Larimer County Colorado Sheriff Justin Smith will be joining me on The Home Front show Friday, July 7!
Mark it on your calendar: 2:00 p.m. Mountain Time, Friday, July 7!
Go to 1360am.co, wait for the load, then click on “Live Radio” to hear Sheriff Smith’s views on legalization of marijuana in Colorado, and much more.
Please share and forward this – this is an important show! Thanks.
There are potatoes to be chopped and bacon to be crisped to go along with everything else already ready for potato salad. There is a feast to be shared and great and glorious words to be heard this evening at church before the fireworks.
(No, this is not my potato salad, but I thought it looked appetizing. Mine has potatoes, celery, dill pickles, green and sweet white onions, mustard, mayo, sea salt, pepper, apple cider vinegar, and bacon)
As usual, there is much to be done! But first things first, regardless. Communing with my Maker in His beautiful Word, in prayer. in praise and thanksgiving.
“Thank you, God, for America. For freedom. For bringing me from glory to glory, from freedom to freedom.” A nation is only as free as its people, and people are only as free as they allow Jesus to indwell them. Free indeed.
I was free this morning to become upset because my breakfast and git-er-done plans weren’t quite panning out. The raisin bread was generously spread with organic salted butter, the applesauce in the serving bowl, bacon browning nicely in the oven, coffee in the French press, Rooibos in the teapot, milk in the cow creamer and heavy cream in the pitcher.
And then it was time to whip up the eggs for scrambling. But alas! It appears that last night someone ate almost all the remaining eggs in the fridge. Four eggs to feed five people. I asked a daughter to go after more eggs (in another fridge in another building) so we could have breakfast before another daughter had to leave for work.
But the speed of molasses was quite fast compared to the movements of my tribe this morning, and early-morning logic told my daughter that she had to look ready for a photo shoot in order to go after eggs.
Temptation to sabotage breakfast with my stress and upset set in. Temptation to reproach my beloved for scrambling not one, not two, not three, but six eggs last night set in. Temptation was after me, plaguing me – to vent about “slow and lazy” people, to put labels onto my children they need like a hole in the head.
Who has the hole in the head, anyway? Why didn’t I simply invite the daughter who’s leaving early to join me on the balcony with baked peanut butter on raisin bread and a lovely cup of French roast with heavy cream in the cool and birdsong-blessed morning?
I plugged the hole with praise and prayer and DETERMINATION not to gripe or complain or in anyway ruin the joy and beauty of the morning for my beloveds, and all of a sudden they appeared, smiling, hugging, thanking me for breakfast, eager to partake (perhaps the power of the wafting smell of bacon?)..
So I scrambled those four eggs, and the going-to-work daughter (who doesn’t care for eggs anyway) happily put peanut butter and honey on her raisin toast, and had thick and crispy bacon slices with applesauce and tea and was happy as could be. Between the other four of us the eggs were plenty. Where is it written, I asked myself, that we all have to have two or three eggs every morning? No wonder I’m a bit sluggish after breakfast sometimes!
SO GLAD I DIDN’T REPROACH JOHN FOR EATING THOSE EGGS LAST NIGHT. I was less tempted by the lack of eggs, than by my disapproval of late-night eating. Reproach, I know full well, never changed a husband. Conviction by the Holy Spirit of our Creator, perhaps put in motion by my faith-filled prayers, has often worked wonders in the lives of my beloveds.
Reproach, not so much. Reproach is very often also disdain, disapproval, censure, judgment, condemnation, and shaming. Guilt, in other words. Guilt, as we all know from experience, doesn’t lead to repentance, to a true turning in a new direction.
“Do not reproach your husband,” has been ringing through my mind for weeks now. I am coming to see, in my forfeiting my “right” to even the slightest of complaints, that I am setting myself free. I am placing myself in a right position to be in God’s blessing, and out of God’s way!
“No lace, Mrs. Bennett! No lace, I beg you!” Mr. Bennett (Pride and Prejudice)vehemently commanded Mrs. Bennett to spare him, but she blithely ignored him. “Respect, Mrs. Bennett,” was his heart’s cry, and silly and foolish woman that she was, she sought her own amusement at his expense.
“The heart of her husband safely trusts her,” about the Proverbs 31 woman, is a verse of continuing revelation for me. “Lord,” I ask, “Can John safely trust me?” Usually, perhaps because of the following line, “He has no lack of gain,” my thoughts turn to money. “How can I do better in this area?”
But as we pass the years together, I see that more and more what John’s heart needs from mine is simply to love him as he is, even as he changes and grows right along with me, unhindered (I pray) by my interference in his relationship with God.
Oh, Father, I thank you for your patience with me, and for growing patience in me. And I thank you for this wonderful child of yours, John, whose heart you have entrusted to my care. May I be ever more skillful in that sacred trust. Amen.
Hooray! Freedom! Especially on the 4th of July.
I’m enjoying a book called The Rhythm of Family by Amanda and Stephen Soule. As I was reading Amanda’s writings about canning and crafting and all sort of creative and beautiful activities, I was comparing my efforts of past years, when my kids were young.
And I found myself weighed in the balance and found wanting – can you relate? Could we all just stop doing that? I stopped myself with a positive “yeah, but . . .”
Yeah, but my kids made a hammock in the top of a tall oak tree, forts in the woods, ships on the creek, trains in the garage. They made up and wrote stories about the local rabbit family and buried and hunted treasure, caught and lost crawdads and lizards, and slew as well as drew great dragons.
They loved and were loved by an oddity of a dog. He seemed odd to us, that is, but to him his behavior was absolutely normal. I’ll share more about this dog in a moment, but back to my kids’ having a childhood – maybe they didn’t live on the ocean in Maine and maybe their mom wasn’t the craft queen of the universe. But she made them homemade fingerpaints when it was raining, and turned grape juice into popsicles when it was hot, and they know how to make artisan breads, and what a snake smells like when you get too close while you’re picking blackberries.
They still remember reading Timothy Tattercoat on a quilt in the shade with a thermos of iced tea and peanut butter on saltines. And through Timothy, a desire was instilled in their hearts to live where he lived, in the mountains of Colorado.
I mentioned our old dog, Buster, who died by the way, chasing a car, and as we told the kids – he died instantly as his head connected with a fast-moving fender, and it was probably painless.
Buster was better at chasing cows – they and he knew who and what he was.
We were walking in the country a long way from home one day and we came upon a pasture full of cows, in the corner farthest fro m the road. Buster went across the pasture, herded those cows to the opposite end of the field and they did exactly as he bade them. He was the boss of these big and theretofore unknown cows.
Not so Chihuahuas. There was a lady who walked her three chihuahuas past our house every day. Benjamin, age 7 then, called her Mrs. Chawalla. I guess Buster thought her dogs were giant rabies-infested rats – he was terrified and hid under the back porch and cried every day when they went by.
As for snakes, he would step on or over them and not even see them. Amazing. But when it came to doing what he was created to do, he meant business. He knew who he was. He was a cowdog. An Australian Shepherd.
We come to know who we are when we grasp that great truth that we are created in the image of God, who is Love, and we are therefore, when being our true selves, LOVE.
Which means – aha! – that I can rejoice in and admire the strengths and successes of other moms, and perhaps even emulate them in some areas; I can look back with appreciation for what I did right and ABSOLUTELY forget about what I might have done differently; and I can do a great service to my kids now, whatever their ages, by modeling the rest and contentment that comes from knowing who and Whose I am.
What a way to live!
Satan always goes after the best and the brightest, such as powerful ministries who preach and teach and deliver the power of Jesus to heal. Just this morning I saw yet another case of people testifying of God’s miraculous healing power, even as they political-corrected it by saying, “God healed completely and miraculously without chemo, but He might tell you to get chemo.”
God is no respecter of persons, the Word tells us. So, as the old hymn says, “What He’s done for others, He’ll do for you.” The differences are in us, not in Him. In some instances, “Jesus healed ALL.” In others, such as when in His home town, “He could do no mighty works.” So what did He do there? He taught. We must be teachable, searching and seeking out His ways, not man’s way. And don’t try to mix up a faith/fear cocktail, hedging your bets just in case He’s a liar.
Sorry, Charlie, either Jesus heals or doesn’t. Chemo isn’t miraculous healing, chemo is torture and torment. Prayer for healing causes many people to survive chemo, but it is not God’s best. The Bible says “Jesus” healed all, not “chemo” healed a few, sort of. Scripture tells us to “let plants be for medicine” (herbs, essential oils, tisanes, juicing, mushrooms, etc.) not man-made chemical poisons.
There are many fine medical practitioners, both establishment and alternative, who do not agree with the use of chemo. There are many books written suggesting we all have a bit of cancer in our bodies now and again, and that chemo is a part of the “cancer industry” and will one day be looked back on with amazed sorrow and disgust, as we now look at historical practices such as sticking leeches on people, giving babies laudanum, delivering babies with unwashed hands, and so forth.
“Well, I go to the doctor to see what’s wrong, so I’ll know how to pray,” is an oft-repeated Christian excuse for bowing to fear and choosing man’s way over God’s. No, you go to the doctor because you don’t trust God, you aren’t willing to put down your flesh and start taking care of your body and your spirit (you fear the discomfort of change), and you care what other people think. And in many cases, you go to the doctor because your spiritual antennae aren’t picking up God’s channel because you’re walking in unforgiveness.
And you get a curse pronounced over you. Then you take ownership of it and repeat it to any and all. Instead of introducing yourself as, “Hi, I’m Jane Doe and I have cancer,” you may as well say, “Hi, I’m Cancer and I have Jane Doe.” As a man thinketh, so he is. The Word of God admonishes us that there is life and death in the power of the tongue, that we will eat the fruit thereof, that we have what we say. Don’t take my word for it. Get in the Word and teach yourself some truth! Arm yourself! Or, do what most people do and bow to fear.
It’s all fear. All of it. As the Word says, “Fear hath torment.” And fear brings death. The very thing you’re trying so desperately to avoid is the outcome you are guaranteeing.
Just say “No!” to fear. If you die, you die. Newsflash: You’re going to anyway, sooner or later. Might as well go out with your hair on.
FOR MORE ON LIVING BY THE WORD JOIN ME TODAY, FRIDAY THE 23RD, ON THE HOMEFRONT SHOW BY GOING TO 1360am.co and then clicking on “Live Radio”.
THANKS!
“You have the gift of hospitality,” said one of my two houseguests. I thanked her, pleased with her response to my efforts, and immediately began mulling over those words, on one of my mind’s back burners, as we walked into the church.
It was our monthly women’s fellowship, where we were taught about being God’s gardens, and onto another back burner went the words, “We are God’s beautiful gardens.” Ought I not to have a garden, as gardening is so great a thing, such a picture of God, such a living example of His bounty and beauty?” Ought I not? Shouldn’t I? Or was this constant and yet-again thinking of where I’m probably missing something, only OK if done in a spirit of seeking a yet-higher place in Him, a further childish delight in discovery?
After the meeting one of the women, a farmer’s wife, talked to me about how she was expected in the early years of her marriage to have a big garden, and how she did so for years, but without any joy.
So perhaps that’s it. Remove the expectations, the shoulds and the oughts, and recover the joy. Make a garden less like an inlaw-pleasing truck farm, and do what this lady does now, plant what brings her joy – flowers, flowers, flowers. Oh, and tomatoes. More joy.
Joy. This morning I found a guest out in the early morning birdsong on my balcony. There she sat wrapped in blankets and writing in her journal (a gift the Holy Spirit spoke strongly and repeatedly to me about making sure to provide, complete with pens, pencils and beautiful highlighters).
I asked if I could bring her some hot herbal tea with honey, which she gladly accepted as she asked me if I would like to join her. But I wanted her to capture her rapture on paper. She said the air was “divine” and trying to describe the clarity of the golden morning light was something I hoped she could get into her journal, and better done alone.
I told her I might join her in a while, but first I was going to have my Quiet Time. My “divine” time, and my time to capture some Light – the very light of God, shining in my heart when I put Him first, and minister to His beloved garden next.
“You have the Gift of Hospitality.” A compliment, and so much more. During the women’s meeting we all were instructed to give the person to our right compliments. The woman to my left (who just so happened to be my other houseguest) said I was a woman of great faith. I simply said, “Thank you.” But I thought so much more.
What happens when we receive a Holy Spirit-inspired compliment? In my case, inspiration. I receive that. I am a woman of faith. This is no small response. In the space of one hour I was told I have the gift of hospitality and that I am a woman of faith.
In two small moments I was humbled by God taking the care and time to speak to my heart through His daughters, and to thereby bind our hearts. I am grateful to Him and to His messengers.
All gifts. To me. The gift of hospitality is one we give ourselves when we do it not as a duty to gain God’s and our own approval, but when and as led by Him, so that He is the author and the finisher of the entire process.
My two guests are now also my friends, and they have brought their blooms and beauties to my garden, as I invited them in by His goodness and grace.
“You have the gift of hospitality.” Indeed I do. And I receive the gift.
HEAR MORE ABOUT HOSPITALITY, FREEDOM FROM FEAR, HOW A FEARLESS SIBLING SAVED A PRESIDENT, HARRIET BEECHER STOWE’S THOUGHTS ON HOMEMAKING, WHAT FEMINISM AND MAO HAVE IN COMMON, AND MUCH, MUCH, MUCH MORE TODAY , FRIDAY THE 23RD ON THE HOMEFRONT SHOW AT 2:00 PM MOUNTAIN TIME.
GO HERE: 1360am.co
THEN: Click on “Live Radio” and be blessed!
Before every Friday at 2:00 p.m Mountain Time I go through the thoughts: this is dumb, not any good, no one cares, not helping anybody, it’s a waste of time, blah, blah, blah.
After 3:00 every Friday I go through the thoughts: that was great, that was a good show, the Lord showed up and showed off, joy, hallelujah, Amen.
Today’s show will be about joy, among other things. The Holy Spirit is speaking up right and left about joy, and today He’ll be speaking through my special callers, and through me as well.
I’ve got one person who’s on fire about changing your “reality” to a true REALITY via what thoughts you choose to speak, and choosing to speak TRUTH via knowing the truth. Yep, tht truth that sets us free.
FREEDOM. Life. Joy, Hallelujah. Amen.
Do you know anyone who could use a little joy today, who would appreciate the help God’s dealing out today at 2:00 p.m. on the Home Front Show?
Tell them to:
1. Go to 1360am.co
2: Wait for the load.
3. Click on “Live Radio”
4. Be blessed!
Thanks and pass it on, please.
Taking a walk in the cool not-quite-summer breezes the other morning an old question popped into my mind: Which of the senses would you miss the most, were you to lose it?
Loss of sight would mean no more color, no more iridescent, translucent, sparkling, proof-of- God color. No more looking into the eyes of my beloveds, no more laughing at a child’s guileless smile.
Not good.
Loss of smell would mean I couldn’t smell this sage I’m crushing in my fingers and thereby being lifted, transported. Same for the juniper, pine, spruce, fir and cedar on the heavenly breeze.
Loss of smell would mean roast beef and vegetables and gravy and hot buttered homemade bread would be irrelevant. Also not good.
Loss of smell would mean I wouldn’t notice the clove on John’s breath when he kissed me.
A kiss. A touch. Not being able to feel the kissing face, or hugged neck, or the touch of a hand of another of God’s children.
Hearing. A marmot is sounding the alarm because the dogs are busy sniffing out his rock pile, and the spring snowmelt has made the creek practically roar as it rushes out of its banks, but not above my favorite creekside blessing rock.
And I couldn’t hear His praises sung from the depths of the hearts of His children in church this morning, on Pentecost Sunday. This thought makes me catch my breath from the sudden glitch of alarm, the actual physical ache, in my spirit. But, on this day of all days, I am choosing not to think about “what ifs” and possible losses. I am thinking of my utter inability to even begin to grasp the magnitude of the Love of God. This is the sense I want to exercise, increase, develop. This is the realm into which I want to delve more deeply. More richly.
He has given us all things richly to enjoy. I call the dogs off and they happily dash off to the next thrill, all senses alert. He has given us all things richly to enjoy. This thought again wafts into my mind and I think of how all the senses will be alive and blessing me at once if I simply take this walk with a loved one, sit by the creek eating roast beef on homemade bread with also homemade mayo, and watch steam swirl up out of a thermos of tea as we sip and smile at each other. And as we see on each others’ faces peace. How beautiful, how marvelous. Oh, Lord, our Lord, how majestic is Your Name in all the earth.
In all the earth. He has given us so much to enjoy. Let us not, in pursuits of manmade enjoyments and entertainments, forgo, forget, become blind to, the wonderful world He has made. In all of our seeking, with all of our senses, let us tune into Him. Let us daily live a life of Pentecost. Amen.
Tomorrow, Friday June 2 at 2:00 Mountain time! Make a Note and tune in:
Go to 1360am.co
Wait for it, and
Click on the “Live Radio” button.
I’ll have a special guest, purple Cadillac thoughts, nuclear-powered forgiveness, ten ways to build your faith – things that just plain build everything, so that life is an ADVENTURE – and more, much more!
It’s a non-stop hour of information and inspiration and just plain good stuff.
Thanks for listening!
Today on the Home Front Show we’re gonna rant happy, give God glory, get in the face (gently) of those “Christian” conservatives who can only see the negative, who give what Satan’s up to way more facetime than the new mercies of God in this new day!
We’ll begin with Helen Keller’s assertion that, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing,” then discuss the adventure of home schooling, and end with John Parker’s thoughts on the adventure of turning what Satan intends for evil to good via instantaneous, weapons-grade forgiveness.
And of course, much more, like the Domestic Bliss of becoming a Fermentista, and the Three P’s of Power, and a really tough Challenge of the Week for us all.
Make a plan and call a friend – and be blessed.
Go to: 1360am.co and click on “Live Radio”
2:00 PM Mountain Time, Friday, May 19!
I was wide awake at 4:00 a.m., and began praying for my children. Then I got out my Bible and prayed Psalm 91 over them. Next I turned on the radio to hear someone say, “I don’t know if he can overcome this or not.” I assumed they were talking about Trump and turned it OFF.
What rot! What, God heard our cry and got Trump in office, but He can’t keep him there?
Time to pray Psalm 91 over Trump, Pence, their families, the entire administration, the entire Body of Christ, and over America.
Trump is not our answer, our source, our solution, but he was put in office because of God’s people crying out for mercy, and we are to pray for him and all other “leaders” that we may “lead quiet and peaceable lives.” And because people getting beaten up and eaten up need prayer! “Pray for us, brethren,” Paul said to the Church..
We are to be the true leaders, the spiritual leaders., the prayer warriors. We are NOT to be whiners, doubters, naysayers, lily-livered, fearful, nincompoops. We are to take dominion!!!!
We, America, are to be that shining city on a hill, that beacon of hope, and that place wherefrom the Good News of Jesus goes out. And so we have always been, and are, and will always be.
“Let God arise, let His enemies be scattered.”
P.S. Tune in today, Friday the 19th, at 2:00 Mountain Time to hear a positive rant, some homeschooling news from Canada, how you’ll never go higher than your love walk, what to do when family members take you to hell with their lack of all reason, domestic bliss thoughts and much more, including Real Man John Parker’s take on “going there” when the sticky wicket of offense is offered.
Go to: 1360am.co
Click on “Live Radio”
Enjoy!
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