Friday, September 11, 2015

My Father's Lap

Last week I entitled my blog "My Grandmother's Lap",  remembering that I would hide my face in her lap until the storm passed by. Long ago her lap was replaced by Your Holy one. I love this old Gospel song:

This world is not my home; I'm just a passin' through. 
If Heaven's not my Home, then Lord, what would I do? 
The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door 
And I can't be at Home in this world any more.

Thank You that our two remaining children and their spouses were here last weekend to love on each other and on their mom.  Thank you that they brought laughter, encouragement, help with repairs and wisdom regarding some pressing decisions. ...and thank You that son Doug's former foreman sped down the hill the next day to fix my room air conditioner, and all he wanted for payment was a hug. Is my Doug livening up Heaven as he did here on earth from the time he was born?

You know that in my flesh the sin I am the most disgusted about is sex-sin. I suspect this is the reason You send me broken people who are stuck in guilt, shame and blame about their wrong decisions. You are giving me such love and tenderness toward them. Thank You.

...and the other night You sent to the patio outside the Mulligan Room a bunch of people from the foot of our mountain and a bunch of people from up here on top, ...and even some who were visiting from England.  You helped me remember all the tunes they wanted me to play so they could reminisce, laugh, sing and dance. Who or what has hurt that old fellow who wanted me to play hymns, but claims he is an atheist? ...and thank You that our beloveds from "down below" accepted my invitation to come up the mountain to my home, sit on my deck, look up at your stars, pray and worship together. Now that fall and winter are coming, what shall we do with our music, Lord? ...maybe some singalongs here in my living room? ...sounds like a possible plan to me. The hymn-singing atheist said he would come.

Oh, dear Lord, what about all the predictions about a coming famine, financial crash, police state, anarchy? I would rather leave this earth in my sleep than by way of a chopped-off head, ...but it's your call. Oh, dear Abba, bring millions more to You as Billy Graham's Crusades from the past are being broadcast by satellite to the remotest parts of this earth.

Oh, dear Abba, I am rambling as I bury my face in Your Holy Lap, and I think I hear You saying, as once my Grandmother said;   "It's all right, daughter. It's all right." ...but she called me "Tootsie".

                           HYMN: NEAR TO THE HEART OF GOD

There is a place of quiet rest near to the heart of God.
A place where sin cannot molest, near to the heart of God.

There is a place of comfort sweet; near to the heart of God.
A place where we our Saviour meet; near to the heart of God.

There is a place of full release; near to the heart of God.
A place where all is joy and peace, near to the heart of God.


Love, Jo