A Pile of Stones in the Mountains

 God’s fingerprints never cease to amaze me, and the way He chooses to remind me in the everyday moments of all His grace poured out in my life.  I contemplated the scene before me.  The rugged rock formations, the crags that rose from the red soil and split the sky jagged and uneven with a dusting of powdered sugar snow all about. 

      The frigid wind so very different from the previous week when I had viewed this same vista under clear blue skies warmed by the sunshine.  The place I was standing was the same but the season had changed so quickly.  I could not help but consider how my life, the graces God has given, and my pile of stones is still the same. He has not changed. Snow falls, sunlight warms, and colors change, but God remains the same. The Rock of my salvation; Who He is and what He has done in my life remains.

 Here I stood in the Garden of the gods knowing that the One True God who formed the mountains and the rocks, amidst which I stood, is the God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  He is the God who calls me to remember, to tell of His greatness, to share of His grace and mercy toward me, and to tell of His salvation to the nations.  The seasons of my life may change, and snow may seem to cover over the pile of stones but it still remains waiting for the sun to shine through and melt the covering allowing me to once again see and share.

 

When I can't see the Mountains...

   We stand on the porch waving at the buses as they enter the gates of our home, they pull to a stop and the doors open freeing a stream of old and new friends.  I hear her voice calling and glance to see waving arms coming toward me in an embrace, in her voice is laughter and a unique greeting only someone familiar to my heart would give…

  “Hey there friend, I hear a rumor that there are mountains all around this place."  She climbs the stairs and wraps in me a hug.  She was back once again with a team and I had to smile at her observation, only someone who has lived in China or visited often enough to know that the ever present foggy, hazy smog makes a clear day where you can see further than the buildings across the way a pretty exciting moment.  She has been here so many times and yet has never seen the mountains that surround the valley we live in here at the Big House.  Mountains, huge and unmoving dominating a landscape and yet here they are unseen, clouded, hidden from view.  I promised to show her some pictures.

Later as I scrolled through photos of the blazing red sky, the sun setting, and the jagged black edges of cliffs cutting into the horizon I had to consider the fact that though I have lived here many years now, I actually have very rarely seen these mountains and then those glimpses are only after a very hard storm when the heavy rains and the strong winds clear the air enough to see their forms.  Several times recently I have considered that conversation, So often I cannot see the mountains that stand strong and firm, I cannot see where my strength comes from I must simply take by faith that He who promised is faithful to carry it out.  The days can be long with pressures from every side that threaten to make us loose heart, or give up, or forget that there are things there that we can’t see or understand.  I am reminded of Elisha talking to his servant as the armies of King Aram threatened to capture him…

^“Now when the attendant of the man of God had risen early and gone out, behold, an army with horses and chariots was circling the city. And his servant said to him, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” So he answered, “Do not fear, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”  Then Elisha prayed and said, “O Lord, I pray, open his eyes that he may see.” And the Lord opened the servant’s eyes and he saw; and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.

II Kings 6:15-17

I can show my friend pictures to prove that those mountains really are there, to point her in the direction they can be seen and yet the rest is up to her, she will simply have to take on faith that they are really there.   And I dear ones will have to rest in the command of my Abba,

“The Lord will fight for you, you need only be still.”

Exodus 14:14

Nations, Deserts, Battles, and The Victor!

October 1, 2014

     It is National Holiday time in China a celebration of the founding of a government.  I stand at the window listening to round after round of fireworks going off in rapid succession making all hours sound as if there is a war going on.  My I-Pod shuffles and I hear the strains of the “Desert Song” begin to play.  I listen to that one a lot…

This is my prayer in the desert

When all that’s within me feels dry

This is my prayer in my hunger and need

My God is the God who provides.

  How often this land feels like a spiritual desert with fellowship so sporadic, and the needs of the multitudes so great, I look around at the war raging around me and wonder in my human weakness how and when the “Springs of Living Water” will flow here?

And this is my prayer in the fire

In weakness or trial or pain

There is a faith proved

Of more worth than gold

So refine me Lord in the flames.

  The flames are hot the dross floats to the surface, this place, the work , the hardness of it, the beauty that it brings out from the heat, the reality that it will take flames to burn away the extra, the “me” that wants to get in the way of the Refiner’s work.

And I will bring praise

I will bring praise

No weapon formed against me shall remain

I will rejoice

I will declare

God is my victory and He is here.

And this is my prayer in the battle

When triumph is still on its way

I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ

So firm on His promise I’ll stand.

  So often I am reminded that this is a battle, a war that is being fought, this is the trenches where life and death are a daily reality but He has given us armor, He has given us provision, He Is the victor, He is the One who will topple governments, the One we will listen to for troop movements and care of the wounded, the One who will continue to provide the supply lines so that when we dig in and stand fast, we will stand firm in His promises, in His Victory- the battle has been won, now the world needs to hear it and see it lived out in our lives.

Let the fireworks continue!

A Train Whistle...

Dear Ones, 

  I adjust my arms to comfortably cradle his limp body, his head rests on my shoulder and he is unable to lift it from where it is cradled against my neck.  He chatters on and I smile as he tells me about the others who went to school yesterday, how he has to stay home, and about the DVD that is currently dancing across the screen at the far end of the room.  I turn so that he is better able to see it and pull the child next to me just a little closer.Her pixie hair cut makes her look just like a baby doll, she holds up her hand grasping one of the cookies I baked and smiles wide to show me that there is still some in her mouth.  The little guy in my arms is quick to remind me that tomorrow she will turn two and I smile because he remembers the conversation I had with her ayi this morning that her birthday was coming.  I feel hands searching my other arm up toward my shoulder and I turn so that the fingers can “see” my face.  His blind eyes are searching wondering about the new voice, the new person in his dark world.

I speak to him and he smiles as he lays his hand on my neck and feels the voice that he hears then pushes his way onto an empty knee and snuggles in just for a second before he is off again to explore and move just a little closer to the sound of the video that is playing.  There are little bodies wiggling everywhere, asking for more cookies, squealing when the lamb in the cartoon runs away from the little grey wolf and dancing with delight whenever the music plays.  I feel little guy wiggle his arm just slightly, one of the only movements he is able to muster as he waves a greeting and tells me that others are awake from their naps and have joined our Saturday afternoon activity. 

He wants to make sure they get cookies.  I stand up cradling his body against mine and ask if he wants to help he is delighted and as I hand cookies to the new comers his little mouth runs a mile a minute telling them all about the happenings and finally pauses long enough to ask if I will give him another cookie.  Through the noise I hear a train whistle, it is a frequent sound all hours of the day and night but right now it draws me to the window and I reposition his head on the opposite shoulder and ask if he can see the train, does he hear the whistle?  He is like so many other little boys…He begins asking questions and jabbering on about seeing it moving.  The question he does not ask is, “Where it is going?” He has no concept of the world that moves around him, of going places or there being anywhere but here.  I on the other hand begin to ponder how many places that train will go, the tracks carrying it here and there and all the stops along the way.  I love trains and the fact that you can enjoy the cities and scenes passing by as you whisk through the countryside stopping at big and small stations all along the way.  I think to myself how much this past year has felt like a train ride with all the moving and going, with the stops and starts along the route.  And yes, I am once again in a new city and a new unit for a period of time.  I am currently caring for the children in our Jiaozuo unit. It is a new environment, new kiddos to get to know, and new opportunities for my Heavenly Father to share with me the fact that His graces are new every morning, no matter which train ride He chooses to take me on or what stops He chooses along the route.

His Grace Alone,

Mariah