The Ka-choo-sie........HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

God bless you all as we start 2014!

What a blessing for our family to be all together, a treat we hadn't had for two years!  And we don't know if next Christmas Steve and Debbie will be here or back in the Middle East.  But we thank God for the chance to enjoy each other, and for the cousins to re-connect.  (Miriam and Liliana are Dan and KC's children's {Noe, Micah and Eli } only cousins.) We treasure time spent with our 5 beautiful grandchildren, and our kids.

Steve and Debbie and their girls left for Indiana yesterday, and we leave tomorrow for Ecuador, on the first day of  the new year. We'll sort of "hit the ground running", as Germán is going to officiate at a wedding 2 days after we arrive! Once we get settled in, I'll continue our "saga", and let you glimpse more of our Journey.

During these two weeks of laughter, love and learning, I have thought about those who don't have anyone to laugh, love, and learn with...or are too far away to do so. If you know people who are starting out the new year without the gift of the JOY of having celebrated with their family and friends, will you be their friend and family in 2014?  Be a blessing!!
                                          *************************************

                

P.S. Actually, I was the only one of us 11 who did NOT go in the "ka-choo-sie" as our 3-year-old grandson Eli calls the hot tub.  Personally, the extremely hot water of the jacuzzi makes me feel like I'm going to faint. I don't know if the around-freezing temperature of the air would have made a difference, but a boiled body and a frost-bitten face didn't appeal to me!

P.P.S.  I was going to add a picture of our family, but a minor emergency came up, and it wasn't sent to my computer on time.  But I'll send it either as soon as I get it, or in the next post...I hope...I'm still learning how! Look for it!

Why do we say "every day is Christmas"?

There's a saying in Christian circles:  "Every day is Christmas!"  Yes, all 356 days,every year.  These poems remind us why.  (They were among my late father's favorites.)




                                                 Three Gifts

                               I was given three gifts to open:   

                                      a manger
                                      a cross
                                      a tomb.
                        Each one had fleetingly held in its grasp
                                the Fruit of the Virgin's womb.

     I opened with first one and found it was filled:
          little Baby's first cry,
          a young mother's soft sigh,
          eager shuffling of shepherds around her;
               stable smells, bleat and bray,
               mixed with stray bits of hay,
               echoed murmurs of deep weary wonder...
                                But the manger held Him no longer.

                                       I opened the second one, finding it filled:

                                       bitter bite of the thorn 

                                                                       sound of flesh being torn,                          

     and the echo of nails being driven.

                            faith of soldier and thief,
                             a veil ripped, pitch-black grief,
                             and the plea that this sin be forgiven...
                                    But the cross held Him no longer.

               
    I opened the third gift and it, too, was filled:
         linen shroud laid aside,
         faint aroma of spice,
         stone unsealed; Death's Defeater rejoices!
                                         glory's fierce blinding light,
                                         radiant beings in white,  
                                         and the echo of clear angel voices...                                    

                                   But the tomb holds Him no longer!

Each gift has its place
in the mystery of Grace,
like footprints the Timeless One leaves us to trace,
sacred sequence unfolding Christ's passion for Man...
Peace secured, He now sits at his Father's right hand.
                                  
                                                                                                                                                                                                                          -Becky Rhon
                           ************************************

                          






Gift Exchange
                                                                                                     

                    Not big enough    
                    to wrest the ugly pins from Your wrists,
                    I wrapped my hands
                    around Your wounded feet
                    and clung to them,
                    with the despairing thought,
                    "There's nothing I can do
                     to validate Your pain."

                                            "Yes, my Child, there is.
                                             We'll have a gift exchange."

                               My heart heard Yours
                               but didn't understand.
                               I asked You to explain.

                                            You give to Me
                                            your sorrow, your sickness, your self, your sin;
                                            in return,
                                            I'll break the chains they hold you in."

                                My heart heard Yours
                                and struggled to understand,
                                to say,
                                "At what price, Lord?
                                How must You pay?

                                              "Open your hands."

                                         I pried my fingers
                                         from Your bleeding feet, and stared

                                         at the warm red-velvet agony
                                         that stained my hands, unspared.

                                As liquid Freedom
                                flowed into me from You,
                                my heart heard Yours
                                and understood...I knew!
                                              Your blood!
                                              Your wounds for my wounds,
                                              Your Life for my life...
                                                         Your blood...
                                                          no greater gift!
                                                          no greater Love!
                                                                                                        -Becky Rhon  

A Christmas story-poem about a little angel...

...and what he learned that transformed him.

                                                  Littlest

                   "Hey, wait for me!" the littlest angel cried,
                   his sandal laces caught in Heaven's door.
                   A tear slipped out.  "They're leaving me behind.
                   They pro'bly think, 'What do we need him for?'"

                The other angels soon were out of sight.
                He kicked his sandals, left them where they were.
                He wee bare feet sped down the stairs of clouds;
                he clutched his harp, his eye-sight all a-blur,

                            so on the final step to Earth, he tripped!
                            His harp went clanging off into the night.
                            He got his breath and smoothed his tattered wings,
                            then searched the sky to see the angels' light.

                            "So far away!  I'll get there awfully late.
                            I want to tell the shepherds 'bout my King.
                            I want to peek into the stable, too,
                            and see the Baby...more than anything!"

                            The others all were gone when Littlest came.
                            He tiptoed to the stall...and then he froze.
                            Before him stood an ugly, smirking imp
                            who pointed at his soiled and ragged clothes.

                           "You're going in to Him looking like that?
                            Your halo's coming loose; your feet are bare.
                            You haven't even got your silly harp;
                            and you can't go with dirty hands in there.

                           "Just turn around and trot yourself back home;
                            you're much too insignificant to stay."
                           Then, suddenly, the sneer became a screech!
                           With tail between its legs, it fled away.

                           And Littlest wondered what had scared it so,
                           though he himself was shaking like a leaf.
                           He looked up slowly...saw it was a Who,
                           with loving smile that filled him with relief!

                          Then God held out His hand and said, "Come here,
                           beloved, barefoot, harp-less angel waif.
                           Let's tiptoe in together while He sleeps!
                           I need you, too, in all the plans I've made,

          "for now my Son will be a human child,
           and human children live in danger, too.
           He'll need a guardian angel at His side.

           I think the perfect one for that...is you!"

The Littlest beamed, and very soon forgot
his rags, his tears, and all that he was not,
for God had giv'n this truth to which he'd cling:  
he really was important to the King!


And you, my friend, who think yourself too small,
or unfit, perhaps, for God to use at all,
can live this truth that made the Littlest sing:
You really are important to the King!
                                                                                                    -Becky Rhon 

                         ****************************************


Happy Getting-Ready-for-Christmas!!!

Came Our Joy!

Celebrating Christmas is exciting!  Although we are thankful every day of the year for Christ's incredible gift of Love, Christmas takes on a joyous air for those of us who remember what it's really about. But there are some people, even in "Christian" communities, for whom this time of year lacks that special sparkle.  They may be all alone, with no family or friends with whom to celebrate; it may be the anniversary of the death of a loved one; they may not have the means to provide the traditional gifts for their families; they may be dying with no one at their side...

Thank God for His very UNtraditional gift!!  Have you ever received a package of comfort, healing, refuge, friendship, salvation and eternal JOY? God offers it to us, gift-wrapped in infinite love. So let's share it!!! If you know someone who needs a special touch, remind him/her that this incredible gift has his/her name written on it. 


                                    Came Our Joy

                        Came to us our Seeker and our Savior,
                        gift-wrapped as a little Baby Boy.
                        Came to us our Healer and our Haven,
                        holy incarnation of our joy.

                        Come to us, our courage and our wisdom,
                        with virtue sprung from that once-Baby Boy.
                        Come and be our hope, our inspiration,
                        the continuation of our joy.

                        Coming for our hearts' Love Celebration,
                        your wooing started with that Baby Boy.
                        Coming soon as our triumphant Bridegroom,
                        You'll be the consummation of our joy!
                                                                                               -Becky Rhon

                 ***********************************************************************

                                Fire in the Manger

               The Fire of God's Hope and Life was burning
               "before the foundation of the world",
               never going out,
               just...waiting...waiting...yearning...

              Then, Divine Little Spark,
              You hurtled to Earth
              and set the hay in the manger ablaze!
              You inserted Your timeless Fire of Hope
              into our continuous NOW of days.

              Though Satan fought to stamp them out,
               the flames grew ever more intense, insistent, searing, LOUD,
               till they EXPLODED
                      in filthy conflagration
                      at the deadly confrontation of the Cross.
                            My sin lay as ashes, charred;
                            the Fire-quencher fatally scarred;
               and Your resurrection flames - of Hope and Life!-
                      blasted through the cave
                      that tried to be Your grave...
               Your Fire couldn't die!
                      When the smoke cleared,
                       the air was clean...and so was I.

               NOW, in my heart that seeks Your heat,
               eternal scorching coals You place,
               then bid Your Holy Wind - now gentle, now rushing -
               keep fanning them with power and patient grace.

               Divine Spark,
                   the fire You kindled for me in the manger
                   still burns inside
                   with Your Hope, with Your Life, with Your Love in its flame,
                        yet waiting...waiting...yearning
                        to return to the Fire from whence it came!
                                                                                                  -Becky Rhon
         ***************************************************************************
Hold His love and peace and joy close to your heart as you continue preparing for the holiday...remember that, at its core, it is a HOLY DAY!

Two Thousand Years

                                 To Jesus' mother

                      Mary, was it hard to let Him go?
                      You had to do it over and over again.
                      How many times did you ache to draw Him back to your breast?
                      You knew what the angel had told you,
                      but He was still your little boy...                                                   -Becky Rhon
                              ************************** 

I can't imagine being Mary!  What an honor to be the mother of Jesus...but what an overwhelming responsibility.  And to know as He grew up that she would have to lose Him...until she realized that losing Him as her son was the only way of truly finding Him as her Savior.

                                       Two Thousand Years 



 Two thousand years haven't robbed of meaning the words that the angels spoke.
And two thousand years haven't dimmed the light of the Star that through darkness broke;
                    a beacon to nations both near and far,
                    that cuts through the shadow into the heart,
                    and leads me, my Savior, to where You are.

                               Your Star still shines o'er the only place
                               where a sinner like me can find her King;
                               and the angels still sing of "amazing grace"
                               that kindled the hope that You came to bring.

Two thousand years cannot take from our hearts all the wonder that Simeon felt
when he held in his arms the Messiah and saw the salvation of Israel;
                    the great revelation to Gentile and Jew;
                    the sweet inspiration of those who knew
                    the glad expectation of those who wait for You.

                               Your Star still shines o'er the only place
                               where a sinner like me can find her King.
                               And the angels still tell of "amazing grace"
                               that kindled the hope that You came to bring.

Two thousand years can't erase from our spirit the bittersweet love Mary knew.
Did she almost wish she could turn back time when she saw what You had to go
                                                                                                    through?
                    While her bruised mother's heart felt those angry blows,
                    she might yearn for her baby in swaddling clothes;
                    yet she saw that the Carpenter's cradle must lead to a Cross.

                              I can't kneel at the manger forever;
                             Your Star now shines o'er the Cross,
                             for it's there that I must meet You, Lord,
                                              face-to-face.

                                   Your Star still shines o'er the only place 
                                    where a sinner like me can find her King,
                                    where the angels still sing of "amazing grace"
                                    that gives us the life that You came to earth to bring.                 
                                                                                                                   (song lyrics,
                                                                                                                     Becky Rhon)
                                              ***************************
                                                              
I'm sure that Mary had a life-long memory of singing to her little Baby, rocking Him to sleep.  Now, because He gives us the privilege of being God's children, our Father also holds us... and sings.

                                                    Lullaby

                                  Sing to me the ballad of the Baby.
                                  Sing to me the carol of the Cross,
                                  music laced with echoes of Eternity,
                                  written for me at so great a cost.

                                  Sing to me what angels told the shepherds,
                                  why Your Star is seen and sought by kings.
                                  As Messiah reaches out to woo me,
                                  let me hear the way that Your heart sings.

                                  Let me taste the love that binds me to You.
                                  Let me feel Your hope run true and deep.
                                  Sing to me the ballad of the Baby;
                                  hush my fears and sing Your child to sleep.                  -Becky Rhon
                                               *****************
         
Next week I will share some more Nativity poetry and thoughts. God bless you all!

"I Am Your Peace" /// A Contest

(Sorry about the problems I had last week. It's sort of weird to have those blank posts! The blog was really acting up - once it "published" something when there was nothing there to publish! And I wasn't even touching the keyboard! The trouble apparently lay with the server connections.)

Here are the words to the song I wanted to share with you in the last post.  If you haven't already read it, scroll back to that post and do so, to get an idea of the context.

                             I Am Your Peace

    Whisper in my ear, "My peace I leave with you."
    Jesus, let me hear the words I need from You.
    While in this world, I can't escape its pain nor from its troubles run.
    But then You say, "Take heart!  I am your peace. The world I've overcome."

    Carve it on my heart, your covenant of peace.
    Lord, it cost so much to sign and seal it for me!
    Your nail-torn hands reach out to steady me, to trace the pledge once more.
    And then You say,  "Take heart!  I am your peace, who comes to heal and restore."

    Send its soothing waves, the river of your peace.
    Pump it through my veins with every heartbeat - Peace!
    Your thoughts of love flow out to feed my soul, to lift my head up high.
    And then You say, "Take heart!  I am your peace.  The final victory is mine."

    Forge it in my life, the pathway of your peace.
    Mark it clearly, Lord; cut through the thorns and weeds.
    Oh, Prince of Peace...sometimes my footsteps fail...it's so hard to go on...
    And then You say, "Take heart!  I am your peace, the Way that leads you Home."
                                                                                                                       - Becky Rhon
                               ********************************

One day a close friend came over and told me I should enter a contest!  I hardly ever listened to the radio, so I hadn't heard about it.  There was going to be a missionary convention (run by the Ecuadorian Missionary Association, to get out the concept of nationals also becoming missionaries), and they were holding a contest for song-writers.  They needed a theme song for the convention.  Since I was writing music, my friend urged me to participate.

I was hesitant at first, because my songs tended to just come to me; I couldn't make them appear. I had also never written one in the form of a congregational song.  But those weren't the only things that made me wonder if I could do it.  Remember my feelings about becoming a missionary?  (Last post.)  How could I write a song about it?  So I decided I'd just "tell it like it is".  The lyrics talk about God making us to honor Him by reflecting His love, and the fact that we tend to find excuses!  The name (in English) of the song is "Here Am I". The first verse talks of making oneself ready on a personal level, and the second one on a group level. I wanted to emphasize that in order to work alongside others, first you must have your own readiness and dedication worked out. The song also talks of the example Jesus gave us, leaving everything behind; and it says that God wants more than just our "leftovers"; He wants full surrender.  I may not have been actually feeling that, but the song became a tentative prayer for what I wanted to happen in me.

I was fairly sure I wouldn't win the contest; after all, it was nation-wide!  So I didn't tell many people, only those who helped make a recording of the song to send in.  I had pretty much forgotten it...and then one Sunday night my husband came home from church with a huge ear-to-ear grin.  He just stood there looking at me...."You won!"

People from the organization had come to Shell, and in our church's evening service they announced the winner.  Later, one of the leaders, who was also a friend, asked me why I hadn't told the church I was entering the contest.  He said they would have felt as if everyone was participating through me...which is precisely why I didn't tell them!  I didn't really expect to win, and I didn't want to disappoint anyone.  (I imagined that there would be many, many songs from which to choose...which turned out not to be true. Saying I won a nation-wide contest sounds cool, but there were only nine entries!)

The song was printed in the hand-out packets at the convention, and I oversaw the teaching of it to the people. One thing I remember clearly was being up on the stage, with the background music (I can't remember if it was a track or if I was playing my guitar)...and one young man very "helpfully" came to the front to play along...in a completely different key!

Needless to say, this whole experience was therapeutic.  I was able to focus a little better on possibilities for the future.
                                                  **********************************

During the next month, December, I am going to be sharing Christmas poems that I have written. So please join me!  And have a very Happy Thanksgiving! 

"I Am Your Peace" - Jesus. Help is on the way, but it may not be for a while, so I decided to go ahead and write at least some of what I was planning on writing today, even though it will all come out as a long title!! But for now, that's all I've got! So here goes: After we had been in Shell for about 6 years, Germán schocked me by telling me of a desire that was growing in his heart...one that would completely alter our future. At first it was too much to handle. I was in for a difficult several months as my inner self worried and wondered, "How can we possibly do that?" I really needed God to "whisper in my ear". (I wrote a song called "I Am Your Peace", which I was going to write out for you, but I'll have to leave it until I get this blog setup fixed. But I will give you the first verse: Whisper in my ear, "My peace I leave with you." Jesus, let me hear the words I need from You. While in this world, I can't escape its pain nor from its troubles run. But then You say, "Take heart! I am your peace. The world I've overcome".) What was Germán's vision for the future? We had worked for years as employees of HCJB. Now he wanted us to join the mission as career missionaries. For me, the "proper" response would be have been positive, because that's what would have been "correct". But it wasn't what was inside me. The problem wasn't missionary work, as we had been doing that for years, just not with the official status of "missionaries". My problem was with the whole idea of traveling around to churches and visiting people as we tried to raise our financial support. This was post-collapse, and I didn't think my health would stand up to it. More than that, all the preparation for presentations would have to be in English, which meant it would all fall on me! It seemed like too heavy a burden. In my next post (by which time I pray that my dashboard will be fixed!) I will give you all the words to the song "I Am Your Peace", and tell you how God eased us into our future, little by little. (Thanks for your patience! Please help me pray that I can get this setup fixed!)

Sorry, I'm having trouble with my dashboard! That last bit wasn't supposed to go out at all; don't know why it did. The whole dashboard set-up is off, so when I click to see my statistics, for example, it immediately flashes over to where I'm writing now, and even this isn't the same. It has the place for the title, and then...nothing! The only place it lets me write is on this one line. Anybody know what I can do? room for

"You Chose to Hurt...for Me?"

(If I may, I'd like to suggest that you scroll back to the next-to-last post {title: The Mender} and refresh your memory regarding the topic, because this is the poem that I offered to share then, and it fits in, in continuity with what I wanted to say.)
 

                                     You Chose to Hurt...for Me?

                       My hands and feet hurt...they're sore.
                       Yours hurt, too...but, even more,
                                  as You carried the Cross, they bled.
                                  Look back at the trail You left...dirty red.

                      Though Simon took from You their symbol of hate,
                       there wasn't a lifting of the weight
                       that ripped at Your life and made it bleed.
                                    No, of nails in Your body there was no need.
                                    They shouldn't have used them!...because, from the start,
                                     we'd already pounded them through Your heart.

                       The Love that You bled, spilling death-crushing power,
                        won my life in the vilest of Wars.
                        For me You would choose all that hurt, all that pain?
                        What's my suffering when placed next to Yours?

                        My pain slows me down, keeps my life on a tether.
                        Your pain, my Lord, stopped Your life altogether...
                                        But only for that trillionth of a second
                                         that it took for You
                                         to lay Your empty human body
                                         at Your Father's feet
                                         and cry, "Victory!
                                        "The Lion of Judah will roar!
                                         You can look at Me again, Father;
                                         I am sin no more!"

                         When I'm sore and I hurt, there are tears - I cry, too,
                          "Look at me, Lord...I can't do it...will You?"
                          It's not always easy to cry, as You do, "Victory!"
                          ...but always You've known that it wouldn't be;
                          that's one of the reasons You did it for me.
                                                                                            - Becky Rhon

***************************************************************************
 Another thing that I often wonder about is that God knew very well that we would betray Him, that in breaking His laws, we would break His Heart...and yet He still created us! He knew that the only way His soon-to-be-created creatures would be able to be His beloved children was through the death of His Son.  And Jesus came to earth willing to do that, eager to play His part in giving us an Eternity in His Father's presence. He would have saved Himself a lot of heartache if He just hadn't made us! But His love was so infinite and intense that He took the risk of having us "spit in His face", in order to have the joy of being Almighty Father and Friend to all of us who, because of Jesus, are allowed - even encouraged - to run into His arms and find everything we need!
          

MY music? He made me believe it could be done.

I had never dreamed that I would write songs...but they happened.  I also had never dreamed that I would record an album...but it happened!  The most I ever wondered was whether or not some recording artist would want to use one of my songs.

I had sung many times in churches, at a wedding, etc.  When we were in Australia, one of my friends and I would sing duets at church. We had voices that blended really well. She sang the melodies and I did the harmony, both high and low.  Before we left to come back to Ecuador, she and I filled a cassette with our duets, using a piano, my guitar, and just a regular cassette recorder.  It wasn't for commercial purposes (obviously!), but rather as a special keepsake, as we knew we'd probably never see each other again...at least on this earth.  One day, in Shell, the tape came loose and I couldn't play it anymore.

Then I had an idea.  A missionary friend had built a small recording studio in Shell.  I was sure he'd have the equipment to mend the tape in my cassette...which he did. At some point I asked him about helping me record a few of my songs, to make a few copies and give them to family members.  But he had another idea. Why not go ahead and record a complete album and have it published?  He had produced a number of albums for different people there, and had the experience and know-how.  As far as financing it, I would only have to pay him for the master tape, nothing more.  And later the sales would recuperate the publishing house expenses.

My mind was a-whirl. Could I actually do it? Our friend made me believe I could.  I would have to re-notate the songs I selected to record (all in Spanish), so he could work with the arrangements.  But that was no problem, given my musical background. Germán was all in favor of the project, too, and gave me his full support.

Once we had the tracks for the songs, I practiced and practiced at home, nervous yet looking forward to...well, I can't say looking forward to seeing a dream come into being, because I'd never dreamed it could happen!  The hours spent in the studio were exhausting (this was post-collapse, so I wasn't in the best of health!) and at the same time invigorating.  My producer was a great musician and a kind, helpful friend, so the project went quite smoothly.  He was easy to work with, and made what was a rather daunting goal into an uplifting, stretching experience.  I learned a lot!

I didn't expect to sell many copies, so we ordered only 250, the smallest amount the publisher would work with.  I soon realized I should have had 500 copies made!  Some time later, after they were all sold, I would occasionally just use a regular cassette recorder to copy the album to give to someone who was wanting it.  Some years ago we had it copied onto CD's. It's been 25 years or so, but I still get an encouraging comment now and then...like from a dear, dear friend in Australia who recently told me that my album is one of her favorites, and it's wearing out, and could I please figure how to send her a CD?

I have been asked numerous times when I was going to record an album of my songs written in English, but for now the two main obstacles are financing (our friend isn't here anymore) and my health.  I don't know if I could hold up through all the sessions here in Quito.  (In Shell the studio was in walking distance, and schedules much more flexible.)  But that's OK.  I still have a channel for working with words via my poetry, which reaches more people than an album might.

Over the years, I've learned that we don't need to use all of our God-given talents all of the time!  He will bring out the ones that are needed in each phase of our lives.  We don't lose the other ones; they just go into hibernation, to be awakened when He needs us to use them again. Or He might give us a gift that will only be used in one phase, and never again. If you're wondering about this in your own life right now, don't be discouraged! Do your best with whichever gifts God wants you to use right now, and trust that when He needs you to use the others, He'll let you know.

God bless you all!  See you next time.   (And hopefully I'll remember the poem I offered to share in the last post!)

The Mender

When we hurt, God doesn't just leave us off in a corner till we get over it. (He cares very much about YOU and YOUR pain!)  And He wants so very much for us to run to Him and allow Him to be all that we need.  He is the One who made us.  Who best to take care of us?


                                        Gently...gently

                        Pain, weariness, wounds...
                        Their threads, strands and shards start to gather, and soon
                        form a mass that spins round me
                        like a personal moon.

                       Creator and Center of my soul-er system,
                       break into the dazing orbit,
                       eclipsing this and any satellite
                       that draws away from You my sight.

                       Stretch out Your Hand, that also knew pain's wrath,
                       and pluck the hurt-soaked ball from out its path.

                                    Then...Lead me to a quiet place.
                                               Restore my soul.
                                               Concede Your grace.

                       You might open Your fingers and throw away the pain,
                       or choose to close them and let the hurting stay
                               for reasons I must trust
                               though understanding little or not at all...
                               for sometimes, thus hidden and held
                               in Your gently-strong Hand,
                               pain can seem so immensely small!

                       Yet even when it appears to dwindle not at all,
                        I can cling to the remedy by far the best:
                        Knowing that the One whose Hand holds my pain
                        is the very One Who rocks the cradle of love in which I rest...
                                               rocks it gently...gently,
                                    as He gathers up and puts my tears away;
                                               gently...gently...
                                    as He stoops to mend this fragile jar of clay.
                                                                                                                  -Becky Rhon


I'm sure that you didn't ask for the difficult times you're going through, did you?  I certainly didn't!  But I know Someone Who CHOSE to experience horrible human and spiritual violence.  He knew it was the only way He could rescue us, take us into His arms...and mend us. His love for us left Him no other option...so He CHOSE to hurt...for us.  In a future post, I'll share a poem with this theme.

Remember that God loves you!

"Ready for Battle?" - a poem

I've been thinking about spiritual warfare (after writing the last post) and how we human beings don't always quite "get it". We try to do too many things by ourselves, on our own, for one reason or another (like maybe to show God and others -and ourselves- how well we're doing or how "spiritual" we are!)  Doing that is dangerous, especially when it comes to battle.  If we don't have the proper equipment, and learn to use it well, we enter the battle with a huge disadvantage that may lead to a heavy loss.

In this poem, God is speaking...

                                              READY FOR BATTLE?

                            Ready for battle?  You want to take part,
                            so you muster your skills and your tools and your art.
                           Your kit piles up as you saw, paste and hone,
                            pleased that you're gathering it all on your own.

             But how much protection will they really afford,
             your tinfoil helmet and rough wooden sword,
             your unshod feet and your poster-board shield?
             Is that how you go to the battlefield?

    I offer you all you must use for defense,
    guaranteed to hold up when the war's most intense.
    Don't rely on your own hand-made weapons, your "might".
    It's only MY armor that lasts through the fight:

                           my righteousness, truth, and my Gospel well-heard,
                           salvation and faith and the Sword of my Word.
                           Ready for battle?  All you need's been supplied,
                           so gear up, brave soldier! We'll fight side-by-side.
                                                                                                                       -Becky Rhon
                                                                                                             (see Eph.6:10-18)
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 Many writings ago, I mentioned that there was more than one factor involved in my collapse. It wasn't the "burnout" alone.  Another factor was  that I was found to have a hormonal imbalance.  Yet another was what we all suspected was our Foe trying to get at us by breaking our health.  Why did we arrive at that conclusion?  Because there were several of us women in the community who all started to suffer from  kind-of-hard-to-pin-down symptoms, with only tentative - even vague- diagnoses, at best.  When one after another of us ended up "sickly", it didn't seem a coincidence.

As far as I know, none of us ever regained complete health.  BUT...that didn't mean that our Enemy got the best of it!  I know that in my case, I have learned such valuable lessons and gained so much that I am stronger inside than before.  Outside doesn't matter as much.

(My health has actually gotten worse over the years, even after leaving Shell.   In case you're wondering, I have fibromyalgia, osteoarthritis, a couple of heart arrhythmias, with a dis-functional sacroiliac thrown in, along with a couple of other bothersome things. Pain is my daily companion. It's usually not too bad, and doesn't interfere too much with what I do. I take medicines, but every so often the pain is so bad it makes me weep.  But I am so thankful that I can still do housework, play the piano, write, cook - one of my hobbies -... and all my senses work!  So many people can't walk, or talk, or see, or hear...)

If YOU, who are reading this, are going through tough times, especially with discomforts and pain, don't let our spiritual Enemy get you down!...or if he manages that, don't let him keep you from reaching out for Jesus' hand to pull you right back up again!

God loves you so very much!  

I TOLD you there was Evil! / "Other Gods", a poem

In an early post, entitled "If I may interrupt myself?" I told you about a dream I had before going to Shell. In the dream, there seemed to be evil trying to find its way in. (Look up that post and see the context.)  I want to tell you a bit about a day - just one day - in which Evil's troops decided to make their presence felt in the missionary community in Shell in an unforgettable way.

I don't remember the order in which these things occurred, and I don't think I've remembered them all, but they were out-of-the-ordinary events, things which pretty much "never happened", especially all on one day!

1) A missionary man somehow oddly got his head whacked really hard with a piece of lumber.
2) A missionary youth fell from his bike and really scraped up his arm badly crossing a little bridge...that was only a few feet long and took only a second or two to cross!
3) Another missionary youth broke his leg. But who breaks his leg playing ping-pong?
4) Germán's maintenance team found a mother snake - very venomous fer-de-lance - actually on the compound grounds, along with something like 18 little very-alive babies. Even babies are dangerous.  They very rarely come out into the clearings, much preferring the familiar terrain of the jungle. And suddenly there were 19 of them in our back yard!

 I'm sure anyone who was living there at the time remembers these things well.  Our whole community was on the alert, since this wasn't normal. We wondered at these things happening all on the same day, one right after another.  Then we found out why...

One of the missionary colleagues was holding a workshop on spiritual warfare with some of the indigenous people who had come in from the jungle. Witchcraft is rampant in the indigenous tribes, and doesn't appreciate being countered...especially by teachings from the Word of God on how to defeat them! No, Satan's minions couldn't let that go by, so they decided to throw a tantrum and "strut their stuff" for us! Of course, they only made us pray all the more for the workshop in progress!

One of our Enemy's favorite activities is trying to mess up believers' lives, by whatever method works.  What we witnessed in Shell that day was out in the open. But we have to keep alert to the fact that most of his work is "undercover", and much more difficult to pin down, but it's a constant, and his purpose is always to do what he can to lure you away from God. So keep your Sword sharp, you armor rust-free, and your Shield in good repair.

                                                 Other Gods

                            Other gods around me whisper, "Feed on me!"
                            They're stirring up a double batch of devil's-food puree.
                            They offer crisp confusion served with insincerity,
                            the sweet-and-sour promises
                            of things that will not be.

                           Other gods around me whisper, "Drink of me!"
                           They dip into their potion spiked with chilled adversity.
                           They're brewing up a pot of irresponsibility,
                           with sweet-and-sour promises
                           that curdle and deceive.

                           Other gods around me whisper, "Live for me!"
                           They're offering their masterpiece of inconsistency:
                            the mystic, mindless methods of their mediocrity,
                            the sweet-and-sour promises
                            of chains that have no key.

                            But You, Lord - You alone - must feed my creativity,
                            for other gods would cost my heart its receptivity
                            to love and laughter, light and life, to authenticity,
                            to never-broken promises
                            that keep my spirit free.

                            You alone must always be my heart's security,
                            my fortress when bombarded by these "cool commodities",
                            the soul-spring of this headiness of unrestricted glee
                            that joys away the other gods
                            till only You I see!
                                                                                        -Becky Rhon
                                                                            ("for the joy of the Lord is your strength" -
                                                                                        Nehemiah 8:10)
                                                                           

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May God be the One that "feeds" you always!  Stay alert!  See you next time.
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(By the way, this poem has an alternative title: The Menu.
If you would like to use my poetry, PLEASE let me know!  Thanks!)