"JUST" A LITTLE NOSE GUARD

It was finally cooler. so I asked Joyce for a ride out to prayer meeting...it felt like ages since I'd been there. The road looked different too, a little blurrier...oh, that was my glasses.  In my accident, I'd completely lost my left noseguard, and now my glasses kinda shifts to the right.

Sometimes, we think we haven't changed at all, but one little act or attitude--like a little noseguard--can bring about a shift of perspective, and really mess things up, can't it?

Fortunately, there is an optician nearby, and Kinya sez he'll take me as soon as I feel strong enough to go for a visit. We need to be sure "repentance shops" are accessible and regularly frequented.

However, by the same token, we need to remember that sometimes, God can change HUGE obstacles by the smallest means. The tiny helm of a ship is used to turn its course, the Bible says. A spider stung and ended a powerful king's life. A slave girl was the way to reach a strong centurion.

Maybe God would want us to feel weak enough to "regularly and frequently" offer ourselves to Him as living sacrifices for however He'd want to use us. It could be He'd even want to use us, like a nose guard, in introducing us to a new perspective of things. Nah; June, you're stretching the analogy.

REALLY BELIEVE OR JUST DO IT

 "Of course I believe God can take care of anything..."

My cousin's son was coming to visit the island, and a meeting had been planned at a nearby eatery. It was at a Japanese fast-food sushi place, where orders were delivered to customer booths by conveyor belt. I so wanted to go, but I wasn't sure my condition would be well enough by Monday to be able to bend my knee and sit in the car.

In Sun's post, I mentioned how elated I felt to see my knee was getting better, and it looked like Monday's car ride to the sushi store would be no problem!

"Yes Joyce, the Okinawan tombs are very different from the ones in the U.S., and it would be nice to show the tomb where Mommy and Daddy, Grampa and Grandma are buried...but it's getting so dark..."

But we talked with the store staff, changed the reservation time, and took off with my cousin for the gravesite.

Unlike Stateside cemeteries, this was completely unlit. I've never been here after dark, but my sister Joyce, who was driving, has--because she turned off the main road into the bush where there was no road seeming to know there was a path there, proceeding up a slope between bushes; and to some relief, arrived at what seemed like a village of cement tombs, the entryway roped and hooked.

Joyce stopped the car, opened her door, unhooked the rope, and moved the car up the incline, saying she didn't want me to walk that much. Actually, I'd told her I wasn't planning to get out of the car!

My sister moved the car right up to where the concrete walk around the tombs began and was level. God knew I wouldn't have been able to manage the uneven ground of the graveyard but could walk around if she got the car up over that incline--so she had!

Doubtless, He had enabled her to do all of this, the same way she amazed us afterwards, the way she could back out down the incline and out of the gravesite without any lighting.

Some of us say we believe. Some of us don't think about if we believe or not and just move while people stand around and marvel at what God does.

LOOK MA; NO HANDS!

I resigned myself to walking with a slight limp.  Both legs were definitely better now, and I could put my weight on them, move about without the walker. But that left knee...it had been almost two weeks, and a spark of pain kept me from shifting on it  freely.

I'd fallen before, I reasoned, but this time, I was in my 60's, and my body probably couldn't fix itself up like it did when I was younger. I wonder what kind of bodies we'll be getting in Glory?

Friday, I decided it was safe to wash my hair--I asked God to please do it for me as I stepped in the shower room and tried to focus my attention on keeping myself safe. A few hours later, I realized I was waking up in my bedroom where I had fallen asleep, exhausted, after strenuous concentration, I suppose, in washing my hair without slipping and hurting myself again. I couldn't remember one bout with pain; rather, I had also been given a headful of clean hair and deep, blissful rest.

"Oh Lord, thank You," I found myself praying, and a silent song of Doxology filled my mind on that bed. I started getting misty-eyed. I shared it with my sisters.

"Praise God from Whom all blessings flow/Praise Him all creatures here below/Praise Him above, ye heavenly host/Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost/A-men"

The body's damage repair seems to take a lot out of you. I lay down for a nap again yesterday...but when I got up, that consternating, ever-present pain-in-the-knee was gone! When my sister came to the door in the afternoon, I met her with,

"Looky!" As I tapped the floor with my left foot, I was wearing a grin that looked like I had just won a gold medal--I knew what it meant--but I was just standing otherwise.

I made Kinya promise not to laugh, then I told him I'd been SURE my knee wasn't going to get any better, 

"But now it looks like it's going to get better after all...um, can I have lunch?"

COMBAT!

"That's the best thing that we've seen in a long time!" But maybe the Church needs to be careful when new ideas are introduced.

"Are you saying Christians ought to become disbelieving, suspicious people, that we can't take people at their word?"

No; I'm not saying that; that is an unfair accusation. But I do say the Church needs to ask God before taking in everything that comes along that looks good or seems to fit needs of the circumstance, assuming, as always, that God's will is always on the side of whatever the Church decides, since we're the good guys.

Remember the fellas who came dressed in rags and carrying molding bread, claiming they were from a far country but had heard about the Israelites so wouldn't they form a treaty of peace with them? Without consulting God about it, well, they felt flattered that people from a distant land would ask for their favor, so they formed a pact with them...and then found out these men were actually close neighbors wearing disguises--Israel had been ready to claim their land but a prayerless pact now held them completely bound and unable to do so.

There is a repeat in history of the Trojan Horse, a gift received, no doubt, with smiles, but leading to the downfall of a previously impregnable city.

In modern times, it is not giants and human enemies we battle, but persistent pests that invade our homes. I was noticing the other day, the most effective way of dealing with them, I've seen, seems to be a similar concept.

It involves leaving something nearby that looks like good, attractive, light, edible stuff...that can be taken, piece by piece, back to the colony. There apparently, when fixed into the form ants fix for ingesting, it becomes highly toxic and wipes out the entire colony. I have rarely seen pests return to places where this trap was set out.

Initially, some six-legged critters may be delighted to think they have found a gold mine, and carry off its treasures to the nest. But they only "return to the dust from whence they came," eventually.

True, an anti-ant spray shot straight at the poor critters renders instant death. But letting them carry off their own death sentence renders life's end for them just as surely; plus, it'll probably be done underground where we won't have to expend electricity afterwards for vacuuming, cleaning the remains.

Followers of God may receive direct antagonism--there is much persecution and martyrdom around the globe today. But governments do have to deal with public reaction afterwards and lasting results of such direct actions.

However, when there is mere infiltration of church institutions and assemblies with worldly lies of the enemy, sugar-coated to look like "Popular Christianity," harmless and even a financial bargain; they can get even regenerate people to bite. And when they decide to take it to the church, take it apart, and use it by scriptural principles; death of the church is guaranteed. (And the government won't have to deal with public relations stuff afterwards.) How many churches' vitality has the enemy succeeded in wiping clean in this way?

It's a little plastic device used to fight ants. You're supposed to put it where you see them, and it's guaranteed to attract then get rid of the life of the entire nest. How many nests have been destroyed this way? The name of the product? Combat.

Fitting, don't you think?

JUST A SILICON-HEMMED PLASTIC STOOL

 You'd think taking a bath was a simple thing.

But now, since I couldn't put my whole strength into my left knee to support my weight, I'd have to think about...what are those things called, "shower chairs"? Wait; maybe the little plastic "ofuro isu" stool Kinya used would suffice. But I tried it once last week, and that one time was enough. That is so low, I was scared to try to get up, also if I tried and managed to tip the stool, it would slip and slide and send me crashing onto the hard, wet tile and hurt myself even worse!

No; that little "ofuro isu" just would not do!

But none of the stores nearby carried shower chairs. WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO who cannot bend their knees enough to use those little plastic stools, I wondered. Kinya showed me. He found "ofuro isu"'s that were almost twice the height of the normal stools. They seemed more stable and you can't see it as well in the photo, but the molding was slightly raised at the back to give back support. Silicon edging around the bottom was provided to prevent slipping.

Doubtless, a westerner would find even this raised stool too close to the floor, but to someone like me with shorter legs, it was fine. And altho' a shower chair's rubber no-slip leg caps and stability was a luxury, for most orientals with smaller bodies, the ofuro isu's silicon rim was sufficient, and for the cost difference, well, it didn't make sense not to get the plastic stool.

Kinya had walked all over creation looking for this, and he was tuckered out. When I told him I wanted it, he had me ask Keima to trot out and get it that night. Thanks so much, fellas! No wonder stores didn't carry shower chairs., I realized; they wouldn't sell!

(Instead, a cheap, plastic stool keeps recuperating/elderly/weak people from hurting themselves while bathing. Hm; you just never know WHAT will be of value, do you?)

"If one therefore, purge himself from these, he will be a vessel to honor, sanctified, and fit for the master's use, and prepared to every good work."   (2 Tim.2:21)

MAN FORGETS, BUT GOD REMEMBERS!

I'd been careful to move around the ice packs keeping the swelling down...but this one slipped like a live fish between my hands and plopped onto my face. I was about to pick it up and put it back into the towel...hey, I realized; that felt GOOD.

Wait a minute. I'd been so concerned with taking care of my knee injury, I completely forgot I FIRST HIT THE PAVEMENT ON THE BRIDGE OF MY NOSE, and that's where I bled from! The hemorrhaging had, of course, stopped quite a while ago. And little by little, the blood clots attesting to the collision had gotten smaller, disappeared, and gradually, been forgotten.

But I felt my left cheeks and brow, the side of my nose...ow. It was still a little tender. And a little hot. I looked in the mirror, it wasn't just age that caused those black lines. I'd forgotten, but God had remembered the damaged tissue there that I ignored.

Like Dan and Naphtali. The boys' fathers had died, and since Jewish geneology was patriarchal, their lines disappeared, and they were pretty much forgotten. Their widowed mothers married in the nation of Tyre, and hundreds of years later, God remembered these families: He chose Naphtali's (I Ki. 7:14) and Dan's descendents (2 Chron. 2:14) to help with the building of Solomon's Temple.

It must've been thrilling find themselves asked to participate in such a great undertaking for the people of God...and they thought they had been forgotten!

Hey, how'd that happen? I was going to tell you about my brow-cheek-need for cooling, not do any kind of Bible Study about Hiram king of Tyre or Huram the head bronze smith!

DOES GOD HEAR ME?

 

After hearing about my nasty spill, the comment was made: "That's why you should always carry your cellphone with you. You never know when you'll need it."

"But I did have my cellphone with me," I said, remembering, "and called as soon as I got up from my fall. It's just that it was so early in the morning, no one heard the phone ringing."

I remembered lowering the cell, seeing the nearby store's shutters were still raised, and all of the lights were still off in the apartments on the other side of the park. I found myself saying out loud, "Well Lord, right now, it really looks like YOU'RE absolutely the Only One I can turn to!"

Perhaps humans couldn't hear the signals emitted by a cellphone; but it seems my Heavenly Father had no trouble hearing me. I told you about the jeans skirt, the vending drink, the sky view, the carrying home after that.

It hit me then: it's not being able to HEAR GOD in the waterfall, or thunderclap, to know a oneness with nature and peace and truth, as some claim. All that is good and fine. But sometimes, what matters is not that I hear Him, but that He hears me.

It would do well to procure a living personal relationship with God in Jesus Christ. You never know when you'll need Him.

"My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, Oh Lord" (Psalm. 5:3)

MISSILE AND FOOTBALL INJURIES

Another thought...

"Just pretend you were hit by a missile," Kinya said; "if you think of it that way; you got off pretty easy, I'd say."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Easy" is NOT the way I'd describe how I feel. It seems every day now, I've been noticing horrible new aches. If you think about it, football players, wearing full protective gear, collide with opponents of meat and bone wearing plastic and metal...and STILL sometimes get injured. It should come as no surprise that an old lady in nightclothes, dashed against concrete in whip-lash fashion, her full body weight behind the impact, could be hurt rather badly, yes?

God really got me home?!

But a veteran I know, hit by a missile, didn't lose his life but had his arm blown off and lived the rest of his life with an artificial limb. If he could trade his experiences for the discomforts I've been tasting, I'm sure he would. I need to stop complaining and THANK YOU for what I have, don't I, Father?

Not a Missile Hit, but I Escaped Unrelenting Torment of HELL!

I heard it raining hard outside, and peeked out the front door, then down the steps. It held me almost paralyzed: that entire day and the next, I could not put any weight on my legs and was completely bedridden. Yet at 5 in the morning God had brought me, all torn apart, up those steps...how in the world did He do it?

Scripture never promises missiles will never hit us. But when they do, our Faithful God promises He will be with us and give us all the strength we need. That's the only explanation I have for how I got home.

REMINDED ME OF INCHY

Would you humor me? It's just that so many things have been coming to me regarding my recent mishap...I realize it might bore you to hear about the same thing time and time again, but I want to share about it, and for the time being, I really can't get out and about; so this is pretty much what's been filling my mind.

Maybe they're not profound, just little thoughts, but for what they're worth...

The scabs formed all over my body, for example, have been healing nicely, and gradually, most get smaller and disappear as unneeded. But one little scab on my right pinky stubbornly hardened, would not dry and fall off like good little scabs but seemed to stand up perpendicularly and get caught on everything I brushed my hand by then attest to having deep roots still living in my finger by the pain I felt whenever it happened. Nothing doing. Sorry Scabby; I had Kinya cut it down as close to my finger as possible with small scissors. 

You might be thinking I might go off on a tangent about how even a pinky is necessary, how the pain in a little finger affects the whole body...well, maybe normal people would think like that. I'm a little loopy. That scab reminded me of a little inchworm I saw at the Iwatsuki Park when he pulled his body up and seemed to peer at me. Have you read the story, "Measure of All Things"?

That inchworm was something else. He plopped down, pulled himself along, reached forward, plopped down, pulled himself along...it amazed me once when I thought he came to the end of the road and there seemed to be a wide chasm in front of him, but he hurtled himself forward anyway to catch the precipice with his front four appendages, then pulled the rest of his body across afterwards.

I was almost sure he turned and looked at me as if to say, "I can do anything. If I can't do it, nobody can."

Well, I had to smile at the little guy. But Inchy would never believe I could run; I mean, he can't locomote that fast. He says it's silly to think that anybody could, right? Huh? C'mon!

But that's what humans do with God! Humans say, "If I can't be born of a virgin, God can't either." And he does the same with the miracles, with dying and being resurrected, creating things from nothing..."It's just silly to think that what homo sapiens cannot do any life form (even a CREATOR) can, right?"

That kind of noise is causing only misery. Can we find a way to cut it off....

GO DO IT NOW

"Go wash your hair," God seemed to prompt me Sat. morning. Why? I wasn't seeing anybody, going out, ... but I knew better than to argue, and just did. How was I to know I'd be taking a nasty spill a little later that would incapacitate me from walking across the hall to use the restroom, much less to the shower to lean over and wash my hair for about the next week or so?

*   *   *

Last week, I told you about Saaya, the Bible School graduate who was going to Bangladesh. Joyce was going to her wedding, but I probably wouldn't be seeing Saaya again for quite a while. Could Joyce have her come to the house?

2019 Jr Hi Inori and June, 2025 Post Hi Sch Inori and Miss'y Saaya

But the real reason was so she could bring a young lady visiting her that week. She'd become good friends with Inori Takagi, one of the girls of a family at the church during her Bible School years who wanted to say goodbye before she went overseas.

I'd taught Inori Takagi for Sunday School when she was in elementary; she has finished high school now. There was possibility of seeing Inori at the Bible School graduation in June, but God worked out other plans for me to stay here in Okinawa. 

However, when I heard Inori was coming to Okinawa to stay with Saaya, I couldn't refrain from asking if...temperatures were too high for my Zonisamide to let me get out to church (and Sunday's mishap prevented my getting out of BED), but couldn't she bring Inori around to the house?

She did. Saaya brought Inori to the house Tues (yes, I was in bed!), and Joyce brought the girls upstairs. The Lord gave me a treat of Christ-aroma filled fellowship.

*   *   *

I guess God knew I'd have to see those girls with one leg propped up on cushions, an ice pack on the knee, in nightclothes, in bed, with bruises and blood clots...at least I could have CLEAN HAIR.  We think we have a strict Father always telling us what to do, but sometimes He's a lot kinder than we realize.

Thoughts Journaled during Memory Work

Here are some excerpts from this morning's journaling:

"And I beheld, when he had opened the sixth seal, and lo, there was a great earthquake, and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became like blood;

And the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind." (Rev.6:12-13)

I had to smile. I wonder what that earthquake will be like? Our family's been through a "Shindo 6" quake in 2011. And Sun., at 4:30 AM it was still black-ish out. But I suppose in an eclipse, it's not even dark-ish, but completely black--I wonder what'll happen then? And the blood I saw wasn't the moon, but a physical filter between my nose and the heaven...will man be living under some sort of dome at the time of the prophecy, a dome which will be spattered red with blood? And when I looked up Sunday, altho' the stars looked small, at least they stayed up there, didn't get tripped up by some crevice as they traveled across the heaven to fall to the earth in spectacular collisions. I tried to envision what it would be like that day in the future when those things happened.

They're not supposed to--are untimely--like figs being shaken from trees. Is that the way I looked when I turned from the vending machine to walk home and flew splat onto the sidewalk? But it was shi-kua-sa, not figs. God can use anything. And even a slight breath from His nostrils can be a mighty wind shaking man senseless. Lord, help us fear You as we ought.

I think what happened Sunday was a Heavenly Daddy's loving spanking. The past few weeks, I was overworking, sometimes pulling all-nighters. I had the idea I could lightly speak of getting my days and nights mixed up but I forgot this body is not mine. When I do not get the sleep I need, I am desecrating the Temple of God, and that is serious sin. 

So He saw what I was doing; patted me on the head; let me go for a little ride through the air before making a crash landing (ouch!); and tucked me in bed to get the rest I so need. I know I "so need" it because I have absolutely no problem falling asleep at night or to stay asleep in the morning.

Father, thank You for your patience with me. Forgive me for not taking care of your Temple; please help me do a better job from now on.

BE AFRAID; it's the way to become UNDAUNTED

Isaiah 41:10? When the Gushikawa Baptist Church began reciting September's worship service memory verse--including the reference--I couldn't help feeling confused. Didn't the plaque on the wall say it was Isaiah 43:5? (My stepmother's Japanese calligraphic scripture decorates the bedroom wall Yup; Isa. 43:5)

"Fear not; for I am with thee." BOTH verses--43:5 AND 41:10--start out the same way. But in the Japanese rendering, the post-position "wa" is used in 41:10, whereas "ga" is used in 43:5, merely emphasizing a different aspect of the statement.  "You don't have to fear because I am with you" seems to be the message of 41:10, whereas "Because I AM with you; you have nothing to fear"; seems to be the emphasis of Isa. 43:5.

BUT, But, but! I think it is 100% okay to be afraid. Courage is when we walk into situations trembling in our boots not knowing what to do or what words to say, perhaps trailing pools of shame and humiliation but wanting to stay in love of our Heavenly Father. It's OK to be afraid as long as that means we find ourselves automatically reaching out for and then resting in the Hand of the Lord Himself. We do not have to be "unafraid, strong, bright, iron, to the end"! Even the Psalmist said, "What time I am AFRAID, I will trust in thee."

In fact, wasn't there a Bible character who displayed just that? He clung to God with all his might BECAUSE HE WAS SCARED TO DEATH? He said, "I don't dare let You go God, unless You promise to bless me". Yeah. Jacob, knew the brother who wanted him dead was just across the river with 400 men.

How does it go: "Desperate times call for desperate measures"? Do I ask for God's protection like I'm desperately afraid, or is it just something I'm supposed to do to be spiritual?  Maybe God will respond in kind.

SHEE KWAH SAH

Sheesh; some people do anything just to get a fun blog!

It finally looked like it would be a cool morning, so I told Kinya I'd step out for a walk at 4:30 a.m., stuffing my pockets with pocket camera & cellphone, coin purse and house key. With a quick brushing of my teeth and hair, I left.

It couldn't have been nicer, wasn't too hot or too cold, and there was just enough movement out to let you know it was the beginning of a new day without being spooky. I'd decided to treat myself to a vending machine pet bottle drink and was turning up the walk to go home when my foot caught on the asphalt crack...

SLAM! I hit myself full face on the concrete, and my nose began to bleed. There was no one around to help that early in the morning--I was walking home around 5 a.m.--I found myself praying out loud for help then saying "excuse me" to no one in particular and whipping off my denim skirt to press against my nose (I wasn't stripping; I'd merely wrapped it on top of my nightwear to have a more presentable silhouette when walking outdoors so was still fully dressed.) The vending machine drink was the perfect temperature to act like an ice pack against my nose. (I'm sure makers of vending machines, when thinking of meeting customers' cooling needs, never had this in mind!)

My glasses--one of the lenses had popped out of the frame on impact--was spattered with blood. I put it all in the pocket and hobbled home, discovering I must've hit my left knee hard, and during the time I tended to my bloodied nose, it seems to have worsened--I could not put weight on it. Perhaps the most maddening part of the whole thing was that when I finally got to the house, I could not even work my way inside! The slightest wrong movement placing weight on the injured knee made me recoil in pain.

My son came to the door when he heard me calling and helped me in. Kinya cleaned my glasses for me, found the aluminum walker my Mom used to use for me to get around in (I didn't think I'd need it for a few more years yet; but now it feels like heaven), and has taken my bloodied jeans skirt to the washing machine, checking all the pockets for me.

"Show me a sign," I prayed, "that You Are Good."  When life hands you lemons, those who do not know God say stiff upper-lipped, "make lemonade;" but I think we know better. WE know the Creator Who made the lemons, the Creator Who made those who hand them out, the Creator Who knows how to make lemons sweet, Who can turn even early morning spills and nasty bloody noses into blessing.  WE know a Creator who makes beauty from ashes. He doeth all things well.

Have a nice day.

P.S.: (This addition is being made several minutes after the above was posted. The vending drink I used as an ice pack held against the bridge of my nose while I hobbled home was made from "Shi-kua-sa", a variety of Okinawan Lime. I guess you could say God had "made lemonade" for me after all!)

THE REALLY IMPORTANT STUFF

The other day, I was acting on an urge to re-read a delightful picture book by Megumi Iwasa, a friend made about 35 years ago.

Behold the Birds of the Sky is a quaint hardcover about the size of a passport and only 40 pages thus easy to read. In it, she has one spread telling the reader about how a couple adopted an Abyssinian Cat pet "Sky", being told not to worry about its care as their Heavenly Father would see to all of it.

A page of a blue shows a large bubble showing a cat's head gazing up longingly at the sky. The sphere can be seen floating up through clouds and met by a dove at the top. The blue page facing it has Matthew 6:26 lettered in white.

Actually, the rest of the book is spent with illustrations of Sky: on the sofa, against the door, snuggled against cushions, playing with the clock, peering into a flower/up into the treetop, looking into starlight or falling snow, etc...; illustrating simple thoughts of spiritual truths.

When Meg first made this book, she also made a bookmark for me out of the Kitty gazing into the sky, and that made me so happy. Later on, she sent me another "card bookmark" from another picture: this one shows the cat resting its head on the Bible and quotes from Jer. 15:16: "Thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart."

I think it's growing on me.

(Incidentally, Megumi doesn't know English, but for readers like myself, she looked up the scripture and had them printed in English too!)

SHE COULDN'T WAIT

"I want to give out the Gospel ON THE FIELD!" some missionary candidates say. But Saaya didn't wait for a starter's gun.

I can't keep up with this girl. I'd posted about visiting my sister's church down in Okinawa, and one of the college students had invited a friend to who he'd had repeated talks with. During my few weeks' stay at Joyce's, Saaya, unsaved at that time, talked with a visiting special speaker who ended up leading her to the Lord. My second week there, she stood and told of becoming a Christian. When I got back home, I heard Saaya grew so much spiritually, she not only got baptized into church membership and became active there but decided to go to Bible School...the one 10 mins.' walk away from my home in mainland Japan!

Joyce Interpreting for Saaya in the U.S.

Last year, Saaya took off for a trip Stateside, and I went along. Saaya, together with Joyce and a close sister in Christ who joined them, gave testimonies to churches in the U.S. (Her name is pronounced, they were told, like the tail end of "Messiah".) Then, when our family moved down to Okinawa in Sept, one of the last things we did was to take some of our unopened things--boxes of tissue, bottles of oil, etc.--to Saaya for her last year of Bible School.

It was during that year, God solidified His leading for her marriage and Bangladesh missions. When Saaya graduated from Bible School this past June, her fiancé was there. But she couldn't wait to get to Bangladesh to do her soulwinning, it seems.

A few days ago, she blurted out to Joyce, "I just have to tell someone!" She'd been witnessing to a friend from years ago and led her to the Lord!

Saaya...Joyce has been telling me about getting her visa and airplane tickets to go to your Bangladesh wedding! 

It sounds like all this has been happening in a short time because it's all in one article, within several paragraphs. But it's actually been YEARS, and much else has happened. That's the Christian's way of living: we walk one step at a time. It's just that some of us plod on straight ahead, while some of us are content to dawdle or skip around in circles or decide to take cat naps by the side of the path...

Anyway, would you pray for our "Messiah Miss'y"?

REALLY FREE

"War's over," the P.O.W.'s were told. "You're free."

Allied guards, expecting euphoria and relief, were shocked by the expressions of dismay. The German prisoners knew on the other side of the barbed wire fence, lay an overrun land--a defeated country--of dirt and rubble; of starvation, deprivation, and danger of degradation for women. Some began begging to be allowed to stay enchained longer!

The above actually happened.

If you've been a prisoner of a nation that's won the war and know you can go home to a peaceful land and waiting loved ones, you might have cause to rejoice. But if your country has lost the war; there may be no house or family left, "emancipation" doesn't look so good. Rather, being a prisoner means daily food, soap, a bed to sleep in every night, and some semblance of dignity.

But those German prisoners weren't allowed to stay at the end of WWII; they had to go back.

INSIDE the Chain Link Fence

There's a small group of us today that DON'T HAVE TO. We've been given new life in the Blood of Christ and can choose to stay captives if we so choose! We can opt to receive daily nutrition; be clothed more beautifully than the lilies of the field; find shelter in His Name; and work out in His harvest field. We DON'T HAVE TO be "free spirits," as some boast, to go back to this dying world, to starve our hearts with spangles and froth that do not satisfy and endanger ourselves with lower standards calling it somehow relevant truth. No one can make us live as we do not want to live.

"If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." (John 8:36)

For Real. Even Captives.