Friday, September 25, 2015

Birth Pangs

"Pangs" is the acceptable word for what we mothers go through to bring a baby into this world. One of my abilities is to remember details about the past. One of my liabilities is to remember details about the past. When our first-born was deciding if he wanted to come out or not, I was contemplating jumping out the delivery room window.  Nobody had told me how much those "pangs" were going to hurt. While I was going through agony Ted was studying for a Greek test down the hall in a room reserved for daddies because in those days when we were "being fruitful and multiplying" daddies were not allowed in delivery rooms.  Why not, for Heaven's sake? Since Adam and Eve daddies had been helping their wives deliver babies under trees, in caves, wilderness tents, Westward Ho prairie schooners, sod houses, row boats, hogans, tee pees, l'il grass shacks,.. I have a bone the size of a mastodon's to pick with "Planned Parenthood",  but I take my hat off to the person who named that organization. It was five years between each of our three.

Y'all know the scripture that tells us the world will feel the "birth pangs" before the Lord pulls the rip cord and opens the parachute just before we crash and burn.  It seems to me that those "pangs" have about reached their max and something either ugly or beautiful is about to happen.

 Here comes another memory: Years ago, in our first California ministry a young fellow named "Brad" came to Christ. Ted asked him shortly after Jesus flipped his life right side up what he had been doing that day. "Oh, I've been sitting up in a tree, reading the "Passums". I'm not about to climb a tree, but I think I will read a few Passums today, flee to the New Covenant and bask in His promises to us, His Church.  I am doing my best to side-step the cow paddies deposited by some of the frantic contemporary prophets-of-doom. The world governments seem to be stuck in the mix of the "iron and the clay": ... that fourth Roman Empire super-power that has never really died.

What's the hope for our kids and our grandkids, anyway? ...the same as it's always been: Christ in you, the Hope of Glory. 

                                 THE SOLID ROCK
                                        
My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus'  blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest  frame  but only trust in Jesus' Name.

His oath, His covenant, His blood support me in my whelming flood.
When all around me souls give way, He then is all my hope and stay.

ON CHRIST THE SOLID ROCK I STAND
ALL OTHER GROUND IS SINKING SAND.
ALL OTHER GROUND IS SINKING SAND. 
                               
Love,  Jo

                         

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