Jaye Lewis Blog - Inspirational Author Entertaining Angels Encouraging Words

Encouraging Words for Teachers by Jaye Lewis

2012-01-26T10:22:00.000-05:00

The Difference a Teacher Can Make by Jaye Lewis

Steve,a twelve year old boy, with barely, literate, alcoholic parents, was about tobe lost, forever, by the

U.S.

education system. Remarkably,he could read, yet, in spite of his reading skills, Steve was failing. Hehad been failing since first grade, as he was passed on from grade tograde. Big as he was, looking more like a teenager than a twelveyear old, Steve went unnoticed...until Ms. White.

Ms.White was a smiling, young, beautiful redhead, and Steve was in love! Forthe first time in his young life, he couldn't take his eyes off his teacher; yet,still he failed. He did no homework, and he was always introuble with Ms. White. His heart would break, under her sharpwords, and when he was punished for failing to turn in his homework, he feltjust miserable!

Inthe middle of the first semester of school, all the seventh grade was testedfor reading and math. Steve hurried through his tests, and continuedto dream of other things, as the days wore on. His heart was not inschool, but in the woods, where he often escaped alone, trying to shut out thesights, sounds and smells of his alcoholic parents. No one checkedon him to see if he was safe. No one knew he was gone, because noone was sober enough to care. Oddly, Steve never missed a day ofschool.

Oneday, "Steve!" Ms. White's impatient voice broke into hisdaydreams. Startled, he turned to look at her. "Payattention!" So, Steve gazed at Ms. White, with adolescent adoration, asshe began to go over the test results for the seventh grade.

Ms.White pinned Steve to his seat with a sharp stare, then her eyes searched hisface. With a sigh, she said to the class, "You all did fair,except for one, and it breaks my heart to tell you this, but..." Shehesitated.

Ms.White, again, fixed her eyes on Steve. "...the smartest boy in the seventhgrade is failing my class!" She just stared at Steve, as theclass looked around at him, and Steve dropped his eyes, and examined his hands.

Afterthat, it was war!! Steve still never did his homework, but thepunishments and the lectures, became more severe, and the pleadings tookover. "Just try it...ONE WEEK! Give yourselfa chance! Don't give up on your life! Steve! Please! Icare about you!"

Wow! Steve'sattention was immediately captured! Someone cared about him? Someoneyoung and beautiful! Someone, totally, unattainable, and perfect,CARED ABOUT HIM!!!

Stevewent home that night, taking one look around the slovenly hovel. Bothparents passed out, in various stages of undress, and the stench wasoverpowering!! He, quickly gathered up his camping gear, a jar ofpeanut butter, a loaf of bread, a bottle of water, and this time, his schoolbooks. Then he headed for the woods.

Nextday, he was at school, on time, and he waited for Ms. White to enter theclassroom. Here she came, all sparkle and smiles! God! Shewas BEAUTIFUL to the adolescent boy, as he yearned for her smile to turn on him. Itdid not.

Ms.White, immediately, gave a quiz on the homework of the night before. Steve hurried through the test and was the first to hand in his paper. Witha look of surprise, Ms. White took his paper. Then, obviously puzzled, shebegan to look over it. Steve walked back to his desk, his heartpounding within his chest. As he sat down, he couldn't resist another look atthe lovely woman.

There,on Ms. White's face, was a look of total shock! She glanced up atSteve, then down, then up. Suddenly, her face broke into a radiantsmile. In his first seven years of school, Steve had just passed his first test! And he had gotten every answer right!

Fromthat moment, life changed for Steve. Life at home, never got better,but life still changed. The change that took place was withinSteve's heart, all because of ONE teacher, who cared.

This is a true story. I know it, because Steve is my husband, and I am the love of his life, as he is mine. Steve is a wonderful husband and a loving father. He has excelled in life, having three careers, and now embarking on a fourth. There has been no seed money. He came from nothing, and so did I. Everything he has is because of the grace of a Merciful God. Steve has worked hard, every day of his life, since Ms. White inspired and encouraged him. I will always be grateful to her.

Encouraging Words for Those Who Feel Lost by Jaye Lewis

2012-01-24T10:55:00.002-05:00

Hello friends,

On January 24, 1988, I was a resident in a psychiatricward. No, I was not a nurse or a nurse's aid. I was a patient. On January 10, 1988, I had a complete nervous breakdown. You might say that I was at the bottom of mylife, and you would be right. But I wasalso at the beginning. In thatpsychiatric ward I learned about a deeper part of myself, perhaps a better partof myself, which began to understand just how alike we are as human beings.

The hospital was in the midst of anexperiment, and you might say that we were the lab rats. In that hospital the young were mixed withthe old. The sad and anxious were mixedwith the truly crazy, and the violent were included with the nonviolent. What were they thinking? It makes you wonder who were truly the crazyones.

I disclose this with gratitude,because I learned more in that six weeks, about love, sacrifice, understanding,and acceptance, than I had ever learned in my entire life. I learned that in the eternal scheme ofthings, I am no better than anyone. I’mno better than that sweet soul who had lost her mind long ago, who believedthat she was inhabited by a well-known Country singer, whom she believed livedin her stomach. She argued with himconstantly, often shouting orders to “Get out!”

Yes, it was funny and alarming, butI made up my mind to get to know her, to find out what made her who shewas. In a strange sort of “we-come-from-different-worlds”friendship, we got to know one another as well as we could. I learned that something terrible hadhappened to her when she was young, and she learned that I was safe, that I didnot judge her, and that I would not betray her.

I was also no better than the youngman who shouted and threatened, and chased people around the room, including mynew, friend and me. We heard his shout,and when we saw him racing at us. Weleaped up and ran, around and around the room, hoping he would not catchus. When he finally was tackled and calmed down, westopped running, and we just looked at one another. Then I shouted that a violent man like heshould be removed from our ward. Thenurse replied that he had never harmed a living soul.

“YET!” My friend and I retorted together.

We, suddenly, looked at each other,laughing hysterically, and for one brief moment, the scales of confusion fellfrom her eyes, and she knew me. Then,her reason clouded over again, and we were strangers, but I’d seen her soul,and I knew that somewhere in the great hereafter, we would meet again. Then, we will know one another. We will remember, and we will be friends, andwe will not be ashamed.

There is so much tragedy in thisworld. I was one of the blessedones. I have a strong, lovingfamily. I had good medical care, a strongwill, and a determination to get well. In March, 1988, I left the hospital with a clean bill of health, and Inever returned. However, I will neverforget the unusual, hurting people within. I think of them all the time. Itell their stories, as I am telling you, and I will miss them and wonder aboutthem all the days of my life — those tragic, suffering souls, who will neverknow the impact they had on this single life, forever.

We are the same, all of us, nomatter how we protest that we are not. Nomatter the color of our skin, or our religion, or our lack of faith, or ourpolitical beliefs. Our petty grievancesand prejudices are like so much chaff, blown by the wind. None of these things will matter, when we standbefore God, judged for the works we have done on this earth, whether good orill.

Jesus said that He will gather allof us together, and He will separate us, as a shepherd separates his sheep fromhis goats. We will not escape Hisnotice, anymore than our bigotry, our jealousy, our rage, or our evil intents and actions will remain hidden. And yes, my friends,we are, each of us, guilty of these things.

The wife beater — youwill no longer be able to hide. The wifewho betrays her husband — you will be found out. The gossip, the liar, the proud, and thosewho do their evil works in secret, you will be made known.

Can anyone escape their shame? Yes you can. Yes I can. I can repent. Every day. Every hour. Every moment, ifnecessary, and I can live my life reaching for the compassion within me,looking for new ways to convey my respect and love for each individual I meet. I will fail. I will fail today. But that iswhat repentance is all about. Going backbefore the only perfect person who ever walked the earth. Going to the Only, One, True God, asking Hisforgiveness. Humbly, before Him, I canrepeat my sins of the day, and cast them at His feet.

Oh, it may seem simplistic, but itis not. It is simple. It is the easiest thing in the world, and thesafest place to be. All I need to do isthrow off the mantle of pride and self-righteousness, and know that I amforgiven by His grace.

These are the thoughts that are onmy heart today. Perhaps I am sick of theassault upon repentance that I see in my own American PresidentialPrimary. Of course there is repentance,forgiveness, and redemption, even for Newt Gingrich. And there is condemnation, even for the self-proclaimed, perfectly pure Mitt Romney. But, you know, the self-righteous never see. I have to admitthat I have only this moment realized what irritates me about Romney. It’s his pompous belief that he has never done anything wrong.

I do not say these things in defenseof Newt Gingrich. He has made itabundantly clear that he is perfectly capable of defending himself. I do, however, say these things to defend thefree grace that God gives to us, if we will only accept it and admit that wehave sinned. That grace, for which weare so undeserving, that we can receive freely, if only we ask, comes from theGod of all grace, who deserves to hear us say, “Father, I have sinned.”

I hate when the grace of God ismaligned, as though He has no power, as though His arm is too short tosave. If that were true then I wouldstill be a lost soul, without hope. ButI am no longer lost, because God came to me, and He made me His own, not becauseHe needed me, but because I needed Him.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

https://twitter.com/#!/encouragingjaye

www.entertainingangelsencouragingwords.blogspot.com

Encouraging Words for Those Who Feel Overburdened by American Politics by Jaye Lewis

2012-01-13T11:40:00.001-05:00

Hello friends,

I suppose that I should send a copyof this blog post to each of the candidates in every election in the United States. I doubt they would listen, but then, maybe they would understand justhow much they exhaust us, and sometimes disgust us.

Yes, I, as an American voter, dobecome disgusted with the political sniping, barbs, innuendos, lies, and cruelremarks. I am disgusted with the newdefinition of “truth.” Remember whenyour grandmother, at least my grandmother, said, “If you can’t say somethinggood about someone, then say nothing at all?” Another grandmother of mine used tosay, “There are three sides to every story: yours, mine, and the truth.” Truth would be nice for a change. And when did it become okay to claim truth when facts are twisted, so that truth is no longer truth, but a lie? Billy Graham tells of a woman who came to him and asked, "Dr. Graham, how can I stop exaggerating all the time?" Billy Graham's answer was, "Call it a lie."

A wise teacher once said to me,“Right is right when nothing is right, and wrong is wrong when everything isright.” Meaning, no matter how youflavor it, snipes, barbs, innuendos, lies, and cruel remarks are never thetruth, no matter how blind society becomes.

You know, in the early days of ourCountry, we had real heroes, who risked “their lives, their fortunes, and theirhonor,” all in the defense of liberty. PatrickHenry, a fiery red-head, and true patriot, said, “I care not which courseothers may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!” Where is today’s Patrick Henry? Where is today’s George Washington, who couldhave been, but who refused to be, King? Where are the heroes of our time? Where is honor and truth? We onceknew what that was.

To my friends fromother countries, you know of what I speak. It is written in the hearts of all of us. We long for honor and truth, and when wedon’t have it, we are not fooled by false heroes. We know truth, even if, as it is in some countries, you dare not speak it.

In America,with all our faults and imperfections, I am free to write this blog andcriticize, by name, if I want to, every leader in my country, from thePresident of the United States,down to the smallest clerk in the smallest town. I canspeak my mind, out in the open, and disagree, and most of the time, no one willmolest me. In spite of the many waysthat I am disappointed in my leaders, I’m proud of that right that I have tospeak out, and to have my speech protected.

I may not be thrilled with theselection of people that I have to choose from, in an American election, but ifI want to, I can decline to vote, and stay home. Or I can choose whom I think is the bestcandidate. Or I can even vote for theleast worst candidate. Sometimes we havegreat choices: Ronald Regan; FranklinDelano Roosevelt, Harry Truman, Teddy Roosevelt, Bill Clinton. Great Presidents, not perfect men. Then, there are others who were not so great. I will let you choose the losers.

My mother always said, “The officeof President makes the man, not the other way around.” She, of all people, inspired my interest inthe American political process, and I have never been able to shake the need toknow, “who’s on first.” Now that I havea laptop on my lap, and I have the internet, Google, Facebook, and the WorldWide Web, I have at my fingertips more information in a minute, than my motherhad available in a year. And, still, mymother was more informed than I. Iremember that fondly about her, and the memory always makes my eyes sting andmy heart smile.

To many of my friends overseas, ifyou live in a repressed country, where fear follows every utterance of yourtongue, do not give up in working for change. Change, no matter where you are, comes from within. Small changes within oneself can make bigchanges possible. If you live in a freecountry, the message is the same. Changecomes from within.

In my own country, you don’t have tobe a genius to see the things that are wrong. Read the remarks after every news article on the web:

“The President is perfect,” if youare a Democrat.

“The President is evil,” if you area Republican.

“You must vote for this candidate,or you are not a true Republican,” says the Republican establishment.

“If you don’t vote for thiscandidate, then you are at war with Free Enterprise and Capitalism,” again saysthe Republican establishment.

I don’t know about you, but I don’tlike to be told who I must vote for; and I certainly don’t like to be told that I’msome kind of traitor for not buckling under. If you try to control me, I am likely to do exactly what you do not wantme to do. I’m not easily pushed, andbullying has never worked.

My friends overseas are obviouslyconfused about what they see on our news, so I will let you know, that the veryarguing that you see on TV, while often offensive, is the direct result oftotal freedom. In the end, we are stillfriends. We still love our country, andwe honor our laws. If necessary, whenattacked we fight as a unit. When youharm one of us, you harm all of us.

As Americans, let us rememberthe day of September 11th. While thedust still filled the sky, and our hearts and country was wounded,spontaneously, on the steps of our Capitol, all of our Congress members brokeout into one of our favorite hymns: GodBless American. Let us understand that they are our leaders, flawed though they may be. So, I guess my message todayis as much for me, as it is for you.

We live in a blessed nation, which mostof us believe is “under God.” We careabout one another. Our hearts swell withpride, and our eyes fill with tears, at the first strains of our nationalanthem. In our strange and imperfectway, we love each other. We love ourcountry, and no matter our faith, most of us, love God. We may see Him in different colors, races,and creeds, but we all know in our hearts, that we need not fear that He mightnot know who He is. Because He does.

For whatever strange and wonderfulreason, Americais blessed by God. We know it, and wewonder why, but then, He knows why. Godknows why. Have faith. We are still in His hands.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

www.twitter.com/encouragingjaye

Encouraging Words for Those Who Feel Worthless by Jaye Lewis

2012-01-09T14:31:00.001-05:00

Wonderfully Made by Jaye Lewis

I was supposed to be nothing. That was the plan. At nine years old, my father screamed into myface.

“YOU ARENOTHING BUT A FAILURE! YOU WILL NEVER BEANYTHING! YOU’LL NEVER BE ANYTHING BUT ANOTHING, AS LONG AS YOU LIVE!!!

I believedhim. I forgot that I was created by aGreat Loving God, Who “knit me together in my mother’s womb," as promised in Psalm 139:13

Despairing, because of my father's words, I worked hard at being a “nothing.” I stopped studying for my classes, inschool. I stopped dreaming the dreamsthat often shape our future, and I barely scraped by.

By the time I was in seventh grade,I overheard my parents talking about how wonderful life would be for them if Ihad never been born, because, being the youngest, I would be out of the way,and they could follow their dreams. Ibelieved them, and I forgot what God said about me.

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands." Isaiah 49:15-16a.

By the timeI was fifteen, my final ninth grade report card read, “She has incredible general knowledge, but no specific knowledge. She’ll never become anything continuing on this course.” I believed my teacher, and I continued on my worthless course, reading and studying on my own, everything from historythrough science, and as my teacher said, I began to have much general knowledge.

I read the Bible, which was a forbidden book,according to the religion of my childhood, and I began to know the God of theBible and His great love for me. Yet,still I believed I was a failure, even weird. Somewhere, in the midst of that, I began to write,and I discovered that with no one to talk to, I began to talk to God. I did not understand the truth of Psalm 139:14, which says that “I amfearfully and wonderfully made.”

Years came and went, and darknesswas all around me, but there, in the darkness, I found the light of God’spresence. Always there. Always comforting. Unknowing, as I was, God was always withme. I discovered the truth about the presenceof God in Psalm 139:7-12

"Where can I go from your Spirit? Where canI flee from your presence? If I go up tothe heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If Irise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, eventhere your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me, eventhe darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, fordarkness is as light to you.’”

I discovered that even if I did notknow God, He knew me. There was muchdarkness in my life. I had no one tobelieve in me, but somehow, by the grace of God, I knew that God believed inme. I stumbled through many a dark valley, yet I discovered that I could not run fromGod. He was always with me. I discovered that in being hurt, I could seekto heal others. In being lonely, I couldreach out and erase another’s loneliness. In believing myself to be a failure, I could encourage others tosucceed. I could be a woman ofhonor. A woman of truth. I could change my course. And when I wrote, as I did from an early age,I could give hope to others.

I wish I had known God from thebeginning. I wish that instead of a religious home, that I had grown up in a Godly one. I wish that in my teens there had beensomeone to influence my life, and change my course. However, even though I remember, painfully,my lonely teenage years, I can testify that my present happiness andfulfillment came from no one except God.

You see, it is God who broughtme into the pleasant pasture of my middle years, and on into the beauty of my present day. I can look to no one but Him, for the joysin my life…my wonderful husband, my beautiful daughters, and my preciousfriends.

I am an award winning writer through His grace. I have completed my first book. I don’t expect it to be my last. A lot of people have lent me a hand in this process,but God alone brought me here. So now,in my world that is so filled with His light, I still look for thoseopportunities to be alone with God. Andas I look back, into my teens, I realize what a great gift it was to spendthose lonely nights and days with Him. I have also learned that theugly words that others speak about me, say more about them, than they say aboutme.

So do not listen to negativity. Your Heavenly Father declares in His WORD,that you are “fearfully and wonderfully made.” Believe Him. You arewonderful. Totally unique. God expects great things from you. So now you can expect them from yourself.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for Those Who Are Alone at Christmas by Jaye Lewis

2011-12-27T11:43:00.000-05:00

Hello friends,

The holidays can be a hard time for those who are missing loved ones. There are so many sad feelings that are difficult to share. Thoughts that you might hear, if you listen closely are:

“Christmas is simply not Christmas without Mama’s smile.”

“I miss Daddy’s laugh.”

“My brother always made Christmas special.”

“I miss all of us going caroling and laughing when we hit the sour notes.”

“Midnight Mass as a family.”

“Christmas morning church.”

“My heart will not stop breaking for the loss of the love of my life.”

You may not hear the words spoken from the lips of a friend or loved one, but if you listen with your heart, you will hear.

Christmas is Over by Jaye Lewis

Christmas is over,

The New Year's almost here.

The tree lights are darkened,

I sure do miss you, dear.

The stockings are empty,

As is my aching heart;

Yet I needed to tell you

Before the New Year's start.

I'll always love you;

You're always in my prayer.

If ever you need me,

My thoughts will be right there.

Although there's a distance

Between us, I still smile,

Because I can hold you

In my heart for just awhile.

I realize God gave me,

A gift I know is true.

The gift that he gave me

Is all my love for you.

I don't know the reason

God gives and takes away.

I just know this season

I turn to him and pray.

"Bless all my loved ones,

The ones for whom I care.

Keep them in safety,

Until I can be there."

I know that God loves me,

And He loves you, too.

So in His season,

I shed my tears for you.

With Love to All Those Who Are Alone This Christmas,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for the New Year: A Healthy Life by Jaye Lewis

2011-12-24T17:23:00.000-05:00

I have never been an athlete. I’ve never had much interest in sports, ever since I stopped playing touch-football with the boys. I tried tennis. I hit the ball too high, too long, and way over into left field. I’ve tried softball. I don’t know why it’s called “softball,” because it felt pretty hard when it hit me in the eye. I tried running, but I couldn’t get serious about it unless someone was chasing me. I tried swimming, but even though I float like a cork, and have had numerous lessons, I can’t seem to get over the idea, that I’m really going to drown. Finally, I settled on walking, and for a number of years, I walked three to five miles a day.

I’m never going to be an athlete, but I make do, especially in my mid-life years. Which brings a question to my mind. When did I hit mid-life? I remember that when I hit thirty, I thought my life was over. I remember my fortieth birthday, I was suddenly “over the hill.” However, it was at fifty that I began to discover “me.” I didn’t have to run, jump, play tennis, or prove myself in any athletic way. I could just “be.”

Fifty became the beginning of my age of enlightenment. I figured that as long as I was in fair health, I had another fifty or so years ahead of me. Then came the life threatening asthma attacks. A disease that had been merely an annoyance, was now in control of my life. Within months I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and arthritis. At fifty-five I found out about my diabetes, and I became fascinated with pharmaceuticals, hoping that they could give me quality of life.

One day, when I was least expecting it, I became free. I discovered that God had given me a priceless gift. Time. I began by noticing the sunsets, and I had the time to stop and really wonder, at the beauty and magnitude of it all. I moved on to the sunrises, and I quickly found out that if I wasted the early morning on self-pity, I missed the loveliest part of the day. I began to notice feelings of gratitude. I found myself with time to witness the changing of the seasons: that first whisper of spring, with its tender green shoots; the warmth of summer, with it’s flowers, bees and butterflies; the rustling of copper-colored leaves beneath my feet in the fall; and the hush of that first winter snow.

When illness would hit me, leaving me alone and housebound, I began to enjoy the solitude. I had time to reflect, gather my thoughts, and pray at leisure. I found that I was experiencing this mid-life season, and I was no longer missing every moment, shackled to the chains of worry and what might have been. Worrying about tomorrow only served to make me overlook the blessings of today.

It’s not always easy. A few loads of laundry and a pile of dishes can take an entire day; but then I don’t push myself much. I often neglect to make the bed, as I watch the rosy glow of dawn meet the rising sun. I have time to walk our wooded acre with my little dachshund straining at the leash. I read the signs with him, sniffing the air, and gazing out at whatever takes my fancy. I spend my time by studying the sky with the same intensity that my little dog studies the ground.

I get to meet the day, every day. I get to say good-night to the ever deepening sky. I’ve studied a lot of sunsets, in the last fifteen years, and I’ve never seen two that were exactly alike. I’ve learned to know my Creator as I never have before, and I’ve made my own mind up about the mysteries of life. I am quite certain that all of this creation is no mere accident.

I feed the birds, and I take great delight in their multicolored hues. I drag a chair to stand on, so that I can fill the feeders without help. I say a prayer as I struggle, thankful to be able to do something for someone besides myself. I often chuckle at all the pretensions of my former youth. I take great delight in my life. I thank God for all the precious little things of every day. It has take me many years, but I have finally come to understand what real health is. It is a health of the soul, and when I have real health, then I truly have everything.

© Jaye Lewis, 2000

With Love,
Jaye Lewis

May God Grant You a New Year Filled With Happiness!!!!!

Miracle in a Manger by Jaye Lewis

2011-12-24T12:17:00.000-05:00

Hello friends,

Christmas is for children. Children of all ages. Everyone who is a child at heart. So let us not forget the child who started it all. A little boy, moments old, filled the world with hope and love. I cannot tell the story better than the Gospel of Luke, in the Bible, but I can give you a peek into my heart at Christmas. I see four dogs, keeping their watch by night, peeking into a manger where the Son of God and Savior of the World lies sleeping. I see a night where I would have wanted to be, should I have lived then, just me and my dogs, in a manger.

Miracle in a Manger by Jaye Lewis

Miracle in a manger

On a midnight clear,

Singing filled the universe

From angels far and near.

Shepherds heard the story

Marveling at the words;

Making haste to see the King

They left their grazing herds.

On the climb up to the manger

Deep within a darkened cave,

They could hear the shushing voices

Telling animals to behave.

And then the shepherds saw the cave

Send forth a golden glow.

The light spilled down the mountainside

And filled the valley below.

Stars that twinkled in the night

Shouted out with silent joy.

To celebrate the miracle

Of Mary’s baby boy.

Around the tiny manger

The animals stood in awe,

And something deep within them

Made them celebrate what they saw.

The ox began it’s lowing

As Donkey began to bray.

“Shout out all you creatures!

Christ is born for us this day.”

Then other creatures, great and small,

Moved forth to take a peep

As Mary held her little one,

Who lay there fast asleep.

Mini-dachshund gazed in wonder,

As mini-schnauzer smiled;

Shepherd dog and Pomeranian

Beheld the little child.

“Rejoice!” Sang angel voices.

“Behold a marvelous thing!

In Bethlehem of David

Is born our Christ the King!”

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A BLESSED NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for Those Who Are Searching for Answers by Jaye Lewis

2011-12-06T13:52:00.000-05:00

When I was a little girl I had a very big faith. I loved Jesus with all my heart, and I was willing to fight for him and trust in his goodness. I remember a church service in a cemetery, once, where the soil was so rocky, there was no where to kneel, so I knelt on rocks. I was glad to do it. Proud to do it. And then it started to pour down rain. In my passionate child’s heart, that made the service even better. I loved God, and I wanted to serve Him. That was my way.

As I grew older, especially after being ripped from my childhood home, and everything familiar and loved, that is when the doubts crept in. How could God allow so much heartache in my life? Why did my mother spiral down into depression, and later, manic depression? Why was my father an alcoholic? Why was my family so poor? Why were the nuns, the priests, and children whom I did not know, so cruel? Why did no one like me? And why was I ridiculed because of my faith?

By the time I was fourteen, I began to doubt the very existence of God. If there was a God (note how the word “if” crept in) why would He allow so much sorrow? If there was a God, wouldn’t He have given me a good family? If there was a God, did He love me? And if He loved me, why did He not take me away from the people who on a day to day basis made my life miserable?

From doubt and “if,” I moved to certainty, then back to doubt and “if” again. Then a strange revelation came my way, I began, at the age of fourteen, to read the Ethics of Aristotle. It was there that I was introduced to logic. Logic, said Aristotle, proved the existence of God. Something, or Someone, came first, and that Something or Someone had to have created everything else. That revelation impacted my life in a profound way.

Now, became the real journey. Since there is a God, does He love me? My father often said, “Why should He?” Then, dear old Dad would launch into all the reasons why it was impossible for God to love me. I was a little girl, barely in my teens, and I was offered no hope of God’s love.

When I arrived into adulthood, I still struggled with the question, does God love me? Is there a reason why He could love me? Was I lovable? Was I forgettable? And when I was taught in Sunday School that God loved me as my own father loved me, I thought I had found my answer. No. God didn’t love me, just as my father didn’t love me. I was devastated and cast adrift.

However, instead of leaving me in the dark, God never let go of me. When He seemed farthest away, as I’ve matured, I have found Him closest to me. I only wish that I had clung to Him with a stubborn faith, instead of blaming Him for everything bad that ever happened to me. Through the years — and I have lived quite a few — God has never left me, and He has told me about that whole father/Father confusion:

So, though my mother accused me of incredibly awful things, whether she was in her right mind or not; though my father made it quite clear with his insults and cruelty that he did not love me; though my brother showed contempt for me, holding himself up as an example; whether my sister spread horrible lies about me; whether any of these things, and worse were said about me, God knew me, and He never forgot me. I am so special to Him, that He engraved me on the palms of His hands. God not only tells me that I am special, but He knows me, again I know this from His own words:

“You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue You, LORD, know it completely.” Psalms 139:1-4 NIV

If only I had a Bible teacher when I was young. If only I had been led to understand just how much God loves me. However, I went to Catholic School, in the old Catholic Church, where we were taught that reading the Bible for oneself was dangerous. We were not capable of understanding without the Church’s interpretation, we were told. I hope that times have changed, and that Roman Catholic children today are taught of God’s love through His Word, the Bible. Perhaps if more people had been taught about the love story between God and us, we would live in a different world. God's love for us is the greatest love story of all time.

Searching for Miracles by Jaye Lewis

Before God spoke the universe into existence He knew my name.

Before He created the atmosphere He held me in His heart.

Before He created the oceans, the land, the plants and creeping things He chose the color of my hair.

Before He created the animals and before He created the first man He loved me.

He placed within Adam’s body all of the DNA of every human being who would ever walk the earth, and within him he placed the color of my eyes.

Before He knit me together within my mother’s womb he cherished the sound of my laugh.

Before I shed my first tear he felt my pain.

Before my sins, my sorrow, and my stubborn disobedience, he chose to carry them to the Cross. He hung there His blood pouring out for me.

Why he chose to do this I cannot comprehend. God wanted me to be his own child. How can that be?

With all of my flaws and character defects He wanted me to believe in Him, and He gave me the grace to believe in myself.

God loves me with a fire that can never be quenched. I am special to him, even if I am not special to anyone else, including myself.

I have tried to perfect myself, and I have failed.

I have tried to believe the world’s message, but I have found no answers.

I have followed the paths forged by others only to find disaster at every bend in the road.

Only God has given me the answers that I have sought. Peace. Love. Fulfillment.

The change in my life is not a complicated one.

It’s not about how good I am or how I pray or how often I go to church. It’s not about money or fame or popularity.

I cannot speak for others. They must decide for themselves.

I only know that the world has given me no happiness.

After searching my entire life, I have only been able to find the answers to my questions, on my knees at the foot of the Cross.

© Jaye Lewis, 2003

So, in spite of me, God pursued me, He caught me up in His arms, and He loves me. God. Jesus. My Redeemer. My Messiah. And in this time of Advent, as we prepare for Christmas in so many secular ways, let us not forget to prepare for the celebration of Jesus Christ’s birth. Our lives may not be perfect. We may be alone. We may be surrounded by people who do not love us. Our dreams may seem far away, but 2000 years ago God so loved the world, each of us, that He sent His One and Only Son who showed us how to live, and who died for our sins, that we may have eternal life and live with Him forever. In this time of chaos, that is what I cling to. If that is not an answer, then I don’t know what one is.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

FACEBOOK:

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000296699307

An Intimate Connection With God by Jaye Lewis

2011-11-26T14:04:00.001-05:00

Hello friends,

Yesterday I was able to go outside and garden. That is one of my passions. When we moved into our house, fourteen years ago, we inherited a yard of desolation, nothing but boulders, clay, and weeds. Rescuing the yard has been a slow, tortoise-like experience. If you hurry, or try to garden during drought, you merely break the handles on your tools. It’s been discouraging, to say the least, but thankfully we’ve learned.

At 65, and in poor health, every plant that takes root and flourishes, fills me with the most glorious gratitude that I have a God who cares so much for me. Jesus said, “See the lilies of the field; they neither sow nor reap; yet not even Solomon, in all his glory was arrayed as one of these.” So, to me it is obvious that gardening is, after prayer, the most intimate connection I have with God.

I think of Jesus words, when I see a seedling, that I have planted, take root, grow, and bloom. I know that I only did the easy part. I place the seed into the ground, water it and God does the rest. It is difficult to choose my favorite plants, since I love them all, but if I must choose, then I choose my seedling trees. Eleven years ago, we had two beautiful birch trees, near the house. They were breathtaking, until they died from the bronze birch borer. Then, the dogwood, by the road, gave up the ghost. The only thing left was an overstressed red maple, that we hope to save even this summer.

I began my garden’s rebirth by planting seedling trees from the National Arbor Day Foundation. Quite miraculously they grew and flourished. I was stunned. I felt as though those little trees were shouting “Jaye! I love you!!” Silly, huh? Yet, that experience helped me to see what God wants of all of us. Perhaps with each plant, with each tree, with each bloom (oh, yes, I must have lots of blooms) God is throwing His arms around me, and He is saying, “Jaye, I love you.”

Gardening in my yard has taught me much. I’ve learned that there are things I can plant that will live, and there are things that will die. Tea roses, for instance, will be consumed overnight by silent bugs. Our roses are Knockout roses. Our trees are disease resistant, just in case I’m not the great gardener that I would like to be. In our front yard we have two Prairie Fire Crabapples (very disease resistant and a blood red). Our three Bradford Pears have healthy leathery leaves that turn a deep burgundy in fall. We also have a host of lilies, junipers, and other tough plants that just take my breath away. In our back yard it is much the same. We’re working on water features, and we don’t expect to ever be finished, as long as we live.

Gardening is hard for me. I have balance issues, and it is always painful, but I do joyfully drag myself around. My husband and children are such a blessing, planting trees and shrubs and giving me all the credit. Everything they do is so obviously for my pleasure, whether it is planting seeds or trees or rose bushes. It warms my heart, and when I think about it, tears spring to my eyes.

There is much to learn in a garden. Miracles happen. A lowly seed bursts forth, from the earth. Gentle rain, or sometimes hauling hoses, gives them life, bringing blossoms of every shade and hue. So, why did God bless me? Really, I don’t know. He will bless whom He wishes. In the Bible, God gives us clues. He wants us to seek Him with all our hearts. He wants a relationship, where our first thought is of Him. And He wants to bless us. Now, my own personal clue. God listens with all His heart, to all the longings of our hearts.

My house, for instance, is a mirror image of a house that I longed for, when I was fifteen years old. My family is another miracle for me. Love. Hope. Forgiveness. Happiness. How loving is the God we serve. We have had tough times, especially when we were in the Navy. Poverty was always knocking at our door, but in tough times or abundance, God is still with us, whether we acknowledge Him or not. He is worth the sacrifice, and He does care about our needs. I must say, that without God, we would not have survived the lean times. I do love Him. God is my constant companion; my hero; my sweet provider, and He listens and answers my prayers.

Daily Prayer by Jaye Lewis

I love to watch the drifting clouds,

In the glorious sky, above me.

I love to hold You, in my heart,

And feel how much You love me.

I love to see the breaking day,

With colors rich and true.

I love to hold You in my heart,

And spend the day with You.

I love to see the little birds

That gobble all the seed.

I love to hold You in my heart,

As You see to every need.

I love to, breathlessly, await,

Your answer to my prayer.

I love to hold you in my heart,

And know that You are 'there.'

I love to feel Your sweet caress,

Upon my aching heart.

I love to hold You in my life,

And know we'll never part.

I love to share, with You, my thoughts,

On every, blessed day.

I love to hold You, in my heart,

As You brush my tears away.

And, last of all, I love to share

The way we laugh, together,

Knowing that the day will dawn,

When we will share forever!

With Love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

The Richest Thanksgiving by Jaye Lewis

2011-11-22T14:05:00.000-05:00

It was November, 1976. I had just moved back to Jacksonville Florida, with my three young daughters after many years away. We were struggling, and I wondered what kind of a Thanksgiving I was going to be able to make for my children.

We were living in a small trailer, and I was looking for a job while trying to convince my girls, and myself, that this was all an adventure.

My youngest child, Helen, was barely three years old, but from the beginning of her first lisped words, Helen seemed to have a sense of decency and wisdom way beyond her years. The children were all excited about Thanksgiving. The anticipated feast was all the girls talked about.

Two days before Thanksgiving, there was a flash fire in a nearby home, and a young family lost everything. The entire community became involved in the rescue of the couple and their young daughter. Shelter was donated by a church, and it seemed that everyone was involved in the collection of food, household items, bedding and clothes. I was thankful that even I was able to spare a few things.

Brigades of busy people willingly donated their time, as well as money. I was certain the tragedy was especially hard for the family this close to Thanksgiving, and I was grateful that someone was available to come to our house and pick up our donated items. Helen was very thoughtful for one so young, and I made myself a little crazy imagining what she must be thinking about the fire.

Finally, on the afternoon before Thanksgiving, two lovely women came to our house to collect our donations. How I wished I had more to give, I said, as I helped carry the donations out. They reassured me that the family would be well provided for. The girls and I stood outside chatting, as the ladies climbed back into their station wagon.

All of a sudden Helen shrieked, “ WAIT!! Don’t anybody move!” She streaked into the trailer door, crying aloud, “WE FORGOT SOMETHINGGGG!!!” I looked apologetically at the ladies, but before I could follow her, Helen was back outside, holding onto her favorite teddy bear, the bear that I had made for her birthday, just two months before. Helen held out the bear, her green eyes searching my face.

“Mommy,” Helen implored, “the little girl doesn’t have any toys. She needs this bear! I have to give it to her.” My heart quaked. I thought about the few toys Helen had and how many hours I had spent sewing that little bear. Now she wanted to give it away.

We stood in stunned silence, the ladies staring at me. I struggled with my feelings. All the love I’d put into that bear. All the things we needed and didn’t have. Surely Helen could find another toy. Then I stooped down to face Helen, who was still holding out the bear, worry lines creasing her little forehead. I searched her little heart shaped face, my fingers brushing aside her red-gold hair. My eyes filled as I realized that my heart would never be as big as the heart pounding in that little chest.

My voice broke, as I said, “Of course, Helen, you’re right. We forgot the toy. How thoughtful of you to remember.” Helen, grinning, handed over the beautiful bear.

When the ladies drove away, I took my little girl and held her close. For she had made our Thanksgiving, the richest Thanksgiving of all.

MAY ALL THE BLESSINGS OF THIS THANKSGIVING BE YOURS, NOW AND ALWAYS.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words on Veterans' Day: A Prayer for Peace by Jaye Lewis

2011-11-10T18:09:00.000-05:00

Hello friends,

On this eve of Veterans' Day, 2011, I was just thinking. The child of another mother's heart is fighting over in a strange land, for people who hate us, and everything they think we stand for. At the Thanksgiving meal in 2001, a boy or a girl, eight or nine years old, was starry eyed thinking of future Christmas joys, although we were a country in mourning. They were children, after all, and children are God's messengers of hope for a better tomorrow.

Today, many of those same children are languishing in military hospitals, or lying in well kept cemeteries, and all their mother's hopes are dashed. Others are still fighting overseas, while mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, sweethearts, sons and daughters wait, praying that they will come home from their fifth tour, safe and sound. And then they pray that they will be home for good.

As a Veteran, my heart swells with pride, but as a mother, I weep. I shed tears as I did when my children were at death's door. I pray, as I prayed for them, as I prayed for my husband when he was out to sea. I weep for the mothers. I weep for all those who will not see another Thanksgiving. I weep for those who will be at the Thanksgiving table, only to return to duty and fight another day. I weep, and I pray that these awful wars will end, and each mother's child will come home safe and sound.

God help us! What are we doing over there?! If that thought doesn't make you shudder, because you have not walked the floor in agony, waiting for that next phone call to let you know that your son or daughter is alive and well, then take a look. We live in a precarious world. None of us are truly safe, except by the grace of God.

So, now I ask you, no matter your situation, no matter where your children are, stop now, and pray for their safety. Pray for them, for yourself, and for the mothers who are waiting for this world at war to be at peace. Pray for peace and safety, this night and tomorrow, and may God bring us all a lasting peace, for only He can.

Between Here and Forever by Jaye Lewis

Somewhere between here and forever

Is a place called “hello” and “good-bye.”

My hope dwells somewhere between them

As I brush the tears from my eye.

“Hello, what a pleasure to meet you.”

“Good-bye, I will miss you, my friend.”

My heart breaks with every occurrence.

It always feels like the end.

I am certain, however, that life goes on,

From friendship to friendship, it’s true;

But I carry the memories in my heart

Of all of my moments with you.

You were there from the very beginning.

You were there when I needed you most.

You stayed by my side, just so faithful,

Never leaving your sacred post.

We have been through so much together.

You would never have left my side;

Except that God had to call you away,

My heartbreak has nowhere to hide.

I’m certain I’ll love you forever,

And no one can take your place.

I can never forget all the joy we shared,

And that look on your laughing face.

The distance between “hello" and "good-by,”

Was only a heartbeat or two,

And nothing on earth will make me forget

The love in my heart, for you.

I sat coldly when they told me.

I wanted to keep you, and then,

I remembered your peerless devotion,

So I had to release you from pain.

Good-bye my friend and companion.

I will treasure the moments we’ve shared,

And I’ll know that my last decision

Was the proof that I truly cared.

I’ll see you somewhere in forever,

And I’ll bring a present or two,

Just as I did for you here on earth,

To show my love for you.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for Those Who Are Discouraged by Jaye Lewis

2011-09-30T11:21:00.000-05:00

Hello friends.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand my Mother and Father and why they treated me the way they did. They seemed to live to discourage me. I guess I was an easy target. I was a sensitive child when it came to criticism, but when I was angered, I fought back with a torrent of words. Yet, some cruel things cannot help but discourage.

I remember when I was about twelve years old, and I started to wonder about my looks. I had red-gold hair (as a matter of fact I still do) and amber colored eyes. I had pale skin and lots of freckles. I had blossomed overnight, and I was very developed for my age. This made me feel a little like a freak. I was the only one in my small Catholic School seventh grade, who wore a bra. That was a big no-no, and I was often accused of flaunting my chest, as though I had a choice about those things.

So, feeling very low in my self-esteem, I went to my mother looking for encouragement.

“Mommy, am I pretty?” I asked, somehow knowing that she would encourage me.

I was greeted with total silence, and then my mother looked at the ceiling, then hemming and hawing, she finally gave me an answer.

“Well, you know, Marianne (my sister) was always a beauty, but you have a wonderful personality.” That was her answer. Okay, that told me that I wasn’t pretty. I had this great personality. Sheesh. Just what child needs to hear.

Then, one day, my father and I were sitting at the table. He stared at my hands and he said, “You have a man’s hands.”

I was devastated. I was twelve years old, and I had a man’s hands. That was just perfect. Not only was I not pretty, but now I had a man’s hands. To this day, when I look at my hands, I see a man’s hands. Discouragement. They were experts.

When I was nine, my father screamed at me. “You are a failure! You’ll never be anything! You are nothing! And you will be a failure all your life!”

It took many years to understand that my father, in some kind of conflict with himself, was talking about himself. His hurtful words were more about himself than they were about me. But I was a child, and all it did was hurt.

My mother gave away my meager possessions, a few books that I loved, a doll, pictures, and toys that she said I’d outgrown. I discovered that she had given them to my seven year old cousin, since I didn’t need them, and the clincher, as my aunt and cousin looked on was, “You never wanted them anyway.”

I was stunned and shaken. It felt like ice water entered my veins and my scalp felt prickly. I had no defense, as everyone looked on. Again it was years before I understood just what was going on. My mother wanted to impress my aunt, and since she had nothing to give, she took my things and gave them away, so my aunt would think well of her.

I could sit here and write dozens of strange things that I never understood about my childhood, and of course they affected me my entire life, even into adulthood. Even today, I have a difficult time believing I was ever pretty, and my hands…well, you know. I find it difficult to acquire things for myself, even the house I live in which is my dream home. I felt unworthy, because it was so lovely, with a view of the mountains that I’ve wanted my entire life.

When my pastor heard me say I was unworthy to own this beautiful home, he said, “How dare you tell God how He is allowed to bless you!” That convinced me. This house was and is a blessing, and if God thinks I’m worth it, well then so do I.

These are simple things that tell us who we are, whether good or ill. You probably have similar events in your life, but please don’t let them discourage you. God has a plan for you, and if you turn to Him, He can heal all wounds.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:11-13

God has a plan for each of us. We are his cherished treasures. He wants to prosper us and not to harm us. He gives us hope and a future. However, this is not because we are worthy. It is because He is worthy. He says to us, “Then you will call on me, come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me WHEN you seek me WITH ALL YOUR HEART.”

It could not be more clear to me. God is my Father and He loves me.I am special to Him. I have learned that seeking Him with all my heart is an end in itself. The feeling of connection with God is like no relationship I will ever have. He is my first love. May I never forget that. I am one of God’s favorites, and, my friend, so are you. Just remember that the evil someone says about you, says more about them, than it says about you. God bless and keep you. Do not be discouraged. You have a heavenly Father who loves you with a great passion, and as you turn to Him, your life will change.

My Father’s Heart by Jaye Lewis

There's a feeling deep inside me

That I, somehow, can't express.

It chokes me to my very soul,

With utter loneliness.

How must my Father feel, each day;

As I cast His hand aside?

His gentle hand, that comforts me

Like the gently, rolling tide.

Sometimes I get so busy,

As I race from place to place;

I forget that I can rest in Him

And contemplate His face.

For I see His face in everything,

And in all I hope to do.

I, even, see His precious face,

Each time I look at you.

I wonder how He feels, when I

Spend days without a care,

And does He shed a tear, when I

Forget to kneel in prayer?

Perhaps when I feel lonely,

And I don't know where to start,

I could bend my knees, and bow my head

And learn my Father's heart.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words When Friends Desert You by Jaye Lewis

2011-09-21T09:13:00.000-05:00

Hello friends,

It’s a disappointment. It’s confusing. It’s a heartache. When friends desert you it is like someone has stolen a part of you, and you’ll never get it back. But remember, I said “it is like.” I did not say, “it is.”

When I was young and pregnant with my third child, I belonged to a church which had a very active women’s organization. Of course all these women were my “friends.” Two by two, the ladies were sent out to homes of women who were too ill to go to church. The purpose was to teach and to heal broken hearts. However, many visiting teachers ran through their duties as fast as their legs could carry them. Their hearts were simply not in healing or teaching. Their hearts were in themselves.

I was very pregnant and very ill. I was not expected to make it through the birth of my precious baby. So, I really needed someone to befriend me, and to give me comfort. I needed to hear the words, “God is with you, and so are we. We will help you come through this.” But these ladies were not my friends, as I was soon to find out.

One day, the doorbell rang, and I staggered to the door. Leaning against the door frame, I opened the door.

“Come in!” I cried. “Will you pray with me?”

“Oh no,” they responded in a cheerful tone.

“Please. I really need to talk to someone.”

“Well, there’s always prayer, and we have these pamphlets to give you.”

They pushed the pamphlets through a crack in the door. Then they left. I stood at the door, sobbing. Many years later, I still have to wonder what those women were thinking. I thought, at first, that those ladies were an answer to the prayers of my lonely heart. I was wrong. God was the answer, not them. And they were definitely not my friends. But they did me a favor. Yes, they did. My relationship with God, from that time forth, grew richer and deeper.

I suppose there are people whose close, personal friendships flow from cradle to grave. I just have never known anyone who had that kind of friendship. What I have seen and experienced is what I call “friendship bondage.” There is always the stronger, more overbearing friend. Filled with love bombs in the beginning, and continuing with perfectly timed guilt in the end.

“Give me a call later,” but you receive no calls from them.

“Why didn’t you call me?” They ask later.

“Well, why didn’t you call me, instead?” You may ask.

“I meant to. I thought of you. But I got so busy….”

The bondage is where you are caught up in the life of another, and things are expected of you, such as, lunch on Thursdays, brunch on Sunday, Tuesday night movies. All of which you can never escape. Should you want to read a book on Thursday, take a family trip on Sunday, and just stay home on Tuesday, you immediately are made to feel guilty for letting your friend down. That’s not friendship. That’s bondage.

I cannot count the number of people who have deserted me, because of my health. I have a strong personality. I’m funny, loyal, and easy to confide in. I keep confidences, and you can count on me to “be there,” wherever “be there” might lead.

In church, where most friendships are forged, almost anything can strain the relationship. The death of a spouse or parent or child can leave friends uncomfortable. What should they say? When is grieving too much for them? Will she never stop talking about it? And, should you ever change denominations, or even congregations, well, that means you’ve left your faith. Being a military family, we were often accused of having no faith, simply because we moved.

In friendship, there is always one of the parties who gives, and one who takes. Should the “giver” stop giving, then the “receiver” feels abandoned, and the friendship usually ends. I’ve lost friends, because we moved, or they did. I’ve lost friends, because they found a new friend. I’ve seen that a subtle change or, sometimes, it would be quite blatant.

I’ve lost a friend, because I got a divorce, or they did. I’ve lost friends, because their lifestyle has changed. They’re now single and dating. I’ve lost friends, because their spouse died. Because I no longer showed up at club meetings. And, I’ve lost friends, because I became sick. That’s the loss of a friendship that hurts the most.

Friendship is illusive, fleeting, and disappointing. True friendship is rare. Whether we maintain it or we let it go, it can hurt. Sometimes we pursue it, racing to catch up before it’s gone, and sometimes it goes away, and we never know why. If you are hurting from the loss of a friendship. If your heart aches, and you don’t know where to go, I cannot advise you on how to bring it back.

I can only tell you where I go when my heart aches. I go to the foot of the Cross.I believe that He who calmed the stormy sea can calm the tempest within my heart. Jesus is the rock to which I cling, my hiding place, and my first love. He is the only one who can calm my heart.

God has given me a wise and humble husband, whose love never falters. My husband looks at this sixty-five year old woman, and he sees the girl who stole his heart. Oh, how I could go on about the love of my life. He is the finest man I’ve ever known, and the only man I’ve trusted with all my heart. I have two daughters who are the best friends a mother could have. Their devotion is unequaled, and their sacrificial love is a shining example of what true friendship is. This is not something I’ve done for myself. I’m not that wise. They, my husband and my daughters, are God’s most precious gifts.

Sure, I’d love to have a woman friend who is my age, who remembers bobbysox and saddle shoes. I’d love to share memories of a gentler time and who’d laugh with me over scratchy crinolines that were all the rage, who remembers a time of innocence that is long past. But I can live without that. I can laugh without that. And I can love without that.

This time of aloneness is a time to reflect on the blessings that I do have. Solitude during the day, gives me the opportunity to write on my novel and share with you the things that are on my heart. I have three little dogs, one big dog, and three cats. They need love, food, and protection. I hide them beneath my wings, just as a mother bird hides her chicks. And when this chick needs to hide, I run to my Jesus and hide beneath His wings.

Life is not perfect. In our aloneness, we need not be lonely. How can we reach out, without surrendering our dignity? How can we show God that we are willing to serve, if only to pray for others? Those are questions that only you can answer.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23 Those are the words of King David, whom God called “Beloved friend.” David had every false friend desert him. He had a wife who ridiculed him, because He dared to worship God with abandon. He had a child who betrayed him, and who did evil towards him. So have I, and that was the greatest heartbreak of my life. But, you know what? I survived, and so did David. David turned to His best friend, God.

My friends, I can’t promise you a lifelong friendship that never falters. It will always hurt when friends desert you; however, God will never desert you. Let me repeat that. God will never desert you. He loves you. You are His most precious creation. If you doubt that, read Psalm 139. Then read Isaiah 49: "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands…”

I have been betrayed by my parents, my siblings, and one child who has hated me her whole life, and I never knew why. I have friends desert me for no good reason. But God has given me a wonderful husband and two devoted, selfless daughters. He has given me a faith that I could never have given to myself. He has given me a conviction that even now, as I write, He is here beside me. He walks with me, and when I stumble, He picks me up in His arms and He carries me. If you let Him, He will carry you also.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for People With Type 2 Diabetes and Asthma by Jaye Lewis

2011-09-13T13:39:00.001-05:00

Hello friends,

Sometimes it seems as though all hope is lost, and encouragement is a yesterday thing, especially for people with Type 2 diabetes and asthma. The asthma/diabetes connection is a subject that is rarely addressed by the medical community, because of an unwillingness or ignorance to acknowledge that Type 2 diabetes is often caused by the life saving asthma medicine prednisone. I am one of those lucky people who have prednisone induced Type 2 diabetes. However, there is hope, even for me.

Prednisone induced Type 2 diabetes is not as rare as many believe. One of prednisone's side effects is an elevation in blood sugar. If you are a diabetic, it can raise your blood sugar to life threatening levels. Most people who go on prednisone and experience higher blood sugar levels, find that their glucose returns to normal after their course of prednisone is over. However, for those of us who have a family history of diabetes, or who may be glucose intolerant or borderline diabetics, we will undoubtedly be thrown into full blown diabetes, which is a lifelong battle.

Now, how do I control my blood sugar while on the asthma necessity of prednisone? This is not medical advice. I am not an expert. I'm merely striving to survive myself. Here is what I've discovered works for me.

At the first sign of an imminent asthma attack, e.g. chest tightness, low peak flow, coughing up discolored phlegm in the morning, waking up with difficulty breathing, wheezing...you know those first symptoms...I immediately go on a low dose, seven day course of prednisone. Starting with 5 milligram tablets, on the first day, I take 6 tablets, which equals 30 mg. So, my tablet course goes like this: 6-5-4-4-3-2-1 and then I'm off of prednisone until the next time. This way, I stay off of antibiotics, and I do very well. My husband and I even celebrated our anniversary trip while I was on prednisone, and I had no problem. Other corticosteroids are not as effective as prednisone, and even the short course throws my sugar out of whack, so I'm sticking with prednisone.

Now, how do I control my blood sugar during this time? Well, first day, I go up on my Lantus insulin, 45 to 50 units, then during the day I check my blood sugar up to six times, and I portion my Glumetza out by halves or whole, as my blood sugar rises. I stick to a low carb diet, and when I can breathe pretty well, I get on my incline bike and do about 2 miles, if my blood sugar peaks dramatically. I keep checking my blood glucose to make sure that the exercise, or anything else, does not send me into hypoglycemia. This is not an easy process, in that there are many variables. If diet is not included, then this will not work. As I taper down on prednisone, I must taper down on insulin. I can have very low glucose numbers toward the end of the course, so I test immediately upon waking, and I keep my orange juice close.

I've never fully recovered from H1N1, and recently, due to low sodium, I was admitted to the hospital, through the emergency room in a semi-coma. As a result, I've had four of these low courses of prednisone in the last three months. Any illness can effect the diseases you already have, so make certain your doctor keeps up with your regular blood tests. Low sodium is a life threatening condition, especially for those of us over 65 crowd.

So, my friends, take care of yourself. If you are not getting the care that you need, change your doctor, or check with your hospital for diabetes programs. I'm certain that you will get real medical advice there.

I hope you will continue to diet, carefully, and even if you have gained more weight, as I did through the terrible time with H1N1, you can lose weight, healthfully again. I'm losing weight again, very slowly. Exercise is key, along with reasonable diet, and good check-ups. Diabetes is not a death sentence, and neither is the complication of asthma, if you are smart and know your diseases, and you follow a program. Remember, our lives are in God's hands, but He expects us to honor Him with our obedience in health.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words in Times of Turmoil

2011-08-31T12:38:00.005-05:00

Hello friends,

Sometimes I simply can't find encouraging words. Sometimes I wish someone would speak encouraging words to me. There are so few things to celebrate. We live in a world of conflict, many which go back hundreds of years into the distant past. This is very difficult for people in my country to understand, since our Nation goes back only a little over 200 years. I have difficulty maintaining a grudge for more than twenty minutes, and hatred is just not worth the effort.

I have many other things to concern myself about. In October of 2010, my husband had a heart attack, yet God brought him through, even stronger than before. In that same month, one of our daughters had emergency spinal surgery, from which she is recovering quite well. On June 6, 2011, on the same day that our other daughter was having emergency surgery, I was admitted into the hospital in a semi-coma. All of us survived, and though we all still have medical problems, God brought us through each crisis. In fact, I find it very difficult to be anything except grateful, ecstatic even! GOD BROUGHT US THROUGH!!! THANK YOU GOD!!!

I know what it feels like to have an empty stomach for days at a time. Yet God fed my hunger of both body and soul. I know what it feels like to wear shabby clothes. I remember sifting through the ragbag. It hurts to be hungry. It hurts to be poor. It hurts to be called lazy when you can't find a job. It hurts to be powerless within a world without mercy. All these things, and more, beat down the human spirit and numb the soul, but in all of these things, we must believe that God will bring us through.

With all the things that I have surrendered in life, this is the one thing that I will not surrender. Mercy. A cup of water. A loaf of bread. A kind word. A smile. Encouragement. I will not surrender mercy to a merciless world!

I have no wisdom, my friends. I don't know all the answers. I only know one answer, the only answer that has ever worked for me. I cling to the Cross of Jesus. I tell Him my needs, and then I do all in my power to be obedient to His words, to His example, to be true to Him. I fail. All the time. But I don't stop trying to be like Him. I'm unworthy, but I know that He is worthy, so, for Him, I keep trying, and one day, I know that I will spend an eternity in heaven, with Him. In Him do I place my hope.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words of A Mother's Love by Jaye Lewis

2011-08-01T15:53:00.000-05:00

A Heart So Loved by Jaye Lewis

It was our second winter on the farm. I was a nineteen year old college drop-out, and the only one bringing home a paycheck. Even in 1965 fifty dollars a week did not stretch very far. Between my father’s unemployment and my meager salary, we could barely make our mortgage payments, utilities, and car payment. We struggled valiantly, and to tell you the truth, it was just plain hard.

Thankfully, someone had given us some egg-laying chickens the summer before, and we were able to scrape by with a poorly planned stockpile of home canned and frozen vegetables and eggs. We had plenty of eggs. We had eggs for breakfast. I took eggs for lunch. And, of course, there were eggs for supper. Winter in Michigan begins early, and by mid-February, I was certain I would never see the ground again. I hoped to never see another egg.

I dreaded that first step into the house every evening after work. I dreaded the smell of fried eggs, and I was pretty certain that I would live in bondage, forever, merely existing from paycheck to paycheck. Surely I’d never see a penny to call my own. I could not see the bottom of our poverty, and I could not stand another day of that cold and endless winter.

One evening, at what I perceived was the bottom of my life, I wearily dragged myself from the car, through the snow, and up to the front door of our house. God, would this depression I felt never end? Reluctantly, I opened the front door, and a sudden appetizing smell assaulted my nostrils. What was that delicious odor? Had I died and gone to heaven? Had we killed the fatted calf? Did we even have a fatted calf?

Suddenly, my mother swung into the living room, a brilliant smile lighting up her features. Waltzing up to me, she slipped a clean dish towel around my neck, and she led me to an easy chair, right by the fire. She pulled over the old piano stool, for an impromptu table, and she motioned me to sit down.

“I’ll just bring you your eggs.” Gulp! Eggs! Not again! Mysteriously my mother hurried to the kitchen, insisting that I close my eyes. With eyes tightly shut I tried to imagine just what was going on with this strange and wonderful woman who was my mother. My mouth watered at the tantalizing smells that assaulted my senses.

“Okay. Open! “My mother commanded, merrily. I opened my eyes as my mother placed a giant cheddar cheese soufflé on the makeshift table before me. It was beautiful! Perfect! Heavenly! Happiness and peace flooded through me, as I realized that my mother did this great thing just for me. Just to make me feel appreciated and loved.

We both dove into that luscious cheese soufflé, smiling and sharing moments that shone far greater than wealth or substance. One small kindness. A moving picture that said more than a thousand words.

“I thought that you might be tired of eggs,” my mother grinned, acknowledging my struggle and despair in a way that transcended any ordinary spoken platitudes.

I don’t remember when my father finally found a job or when we ate meat again. After all, it’s been more than forty years since that day. However, I can honestly say that I’ve never tasted any dish that has eclipsed the flavor of my mother’s thoughtful kindness. Bathed in the warmth of her surprise, I doubt that my stomach has since felt so satisfied nor my heart so loved.

Please feel free to share this story with your friends on Facebook or Twitter or any other social network. Please always include Jaye's copyright and other personal information.

Thank you, friends.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words When Tragedy Strikes by Jaye Lewis

2011-05-23T12:11:00.003-05:00

Hello friends,

Tornadoes don't happen in the mountains. Ask anybody. The weather in the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia, where I live, promises to be the safest on earth. Our weather is tempered by the mountains we love, and though we are not as high as the Rockies, when tornadoes infrequently touch down, they are swiftly sent packing up the next slope, and into the sky. That's the way it's always been until now.

It happened late at night, when the powerful tornadoes swept through Alabama, and five other states, my community, in southwest Virginia, was the only thing standing in their way. One. Two. Three. Four tornadoes, raced past the Tennessee/Virginia border and into the small town of Glade Spring. Then they hit Chilhowie, and barreled on. But the greatest destruction remained in Glade Spring, along with a tragic loss of life.

It chills me to realize that we are talking about life and death. Their community, just like ours. Their homes, just like ours. Their families, just like ours. Their hopes and dreams, shattered, just as ours would be. Their grief was so palpable that it tore through my heart, as I realized it could have been me. It could have been my house flattened, as we slumbered in our beds. It could have been my family, and my husband gone.

"No man is an island, entire of itself," wrote the great Churchman and poet, John Donne, "every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main... any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

So, for those of us who fared well, who woke up the following morning and wondered who is going to mow my grass? I hope we remember to thank God that is was not us. I hope we remember well, that a powerful, uncontrollable natural disaster just may come our way, and if it does, I pray that all are living near a town, just like Glade Spring.

Before the night was over, the rescue sirens were blaring, and every volunteer was on his way. That means half of three counties. Betty Blevins was pulled from the wreckage by young hands who wrapped her in their shirts and jackets to keep her from going into shock. While one stayed to comfort, the rest moved on to others and everyone, believe me, everyone showed up.

The next day, people took vacations to help with the clean-up, and it didn't take long, with hundreds of volunteers, to uncover what was left. Nothing. Nothing except prayers, tears, and a hand to hold. FEMA refused aid, because the cleanup was so fast. We couldn't possibly need help, because we had so many volunteers, and it was up to the Churches to move in and rebuild. Wow. So the Churches have stepped in, as they always do, and local aid agencies of every scope, and when donations were requested, empty cupboards and pockets dug deeper still to find enough to share and to heal.

You see, it doesn't take much money to bind the wounds of a small town. It doesn't make much press. It merely takes a heart. So, if in the future it is your life that is wounded, I pray that you are near a town like Glade Spring, as I am, where binding up wounds is not just what they do, but it is who they are.

Be My Rescue by Jaye Lewis

Oh Lord, please be my rescue
Amidst the encircling gloom;
Be my Savior in the nighttime;
In the morning and at noon.

Lord, be with me at evening,
And at the break of day,
In terror and in safety,
Please Lord, show me the way.

Forgive me all my anger
At the injustice of a few,
When many share my sorrow,
May they too, Lord, be with You.

Please help me to remember
The blessings of Your grace,
And when I meet a stranger,
May I then, too, see Your face.

I love You, Lord, I love You.
I'm not worthy of Your love;
As I ponder all my blessings,
I know they're surely from above.

Loving kindness from the Father!
Grace and blessings from the Son.
Peace and mercy from the Spirit;
Each is separate, yet One.

May He always be your rescue,
May His name be on your tongue.
May you know Him as your brother,
May He love you as a son.

Bless each and every person
Who calls upon Your name.

May You light and guide each pathway,
Banish all their fears away.

For those who read this message, I pray that it falls upon compassionate ears. Please give what you can to the suffering. Know that long after you read this, and the cable news has forgotten, that the suffering still goes on. Dig down deep, I pray, for except by the grace of God, it might be you.

To those who are suffering, who have lost homes, loved ones, and yes, pets, please know that countless numbers of souls have stormed heaven with their prayers, reached deep into their pockets, and that you are not, precious ones, alone.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for Giving God the Glory by Jaye Lewis

2011-04-14T13:08:00.000-05:00

Hello friends,

It’ early-thirty on a Thursday morning, and I’m the only one awake. I have my hot cup of coffee to chase the cobwebs from my brain, and my weenie dog snoozes on the bed beside me. My world is pretty sweet right now. I have only this blog to be responsible for – my lifeline to the world – and I am relearning skills that I haven’t done in twenty years.

God has given me these amazing gifts. He has brought about inventions that have made my life more comfortable and safe. I have medications which keep me alive and full of gratitude for those who have allowed their minds to conceive of such wonders. We all have wonderful minds, but do we use them in a way that glorifies the One who gave us this gift?

Do we keep our minds free of evil thoughts? Do we hate people we know nothing about? Do we shame God with our thoughts about who should live or die? Only God can decide such a thing, and to harbor thoughts of harm to another? Well, from such things we should run away, and fill our minds with our love of Him.

That is why a continuous relationship with God is so necessary — not just prayers repeated again and again. A relationship is based upon love, affection, sharing one’s intimate thoughts, laughing at oneself, and looking out upon the beautiful world that He has given to us, and being grateful to Him.

Oh, how I love my time with God. Just God and me. I love gazing at the mountains surrounding my home, and the beautiful smoky blue haze which surround them. I love the sound and sight of the birds which I care for, even and especially in the wildest weather. I love serving Him through them; and I love serving Him, through my sharing with you.

There is a sadness within me, however, especially as we approach the days of Christ's passion. I am mindful that I am unworthy of His sacrifice, especially because of the many gifts and blessings that He has given to me. Thursday of next week is Maundy Thursday, the day that commemorates the Last Supper of Christ, the night that He was betrayed. Strangely enough, it is also my birthday.

In a garden that night, Christ took my sins upon Himself, along with the weight of the sins of the world, both yours and mine. From the time that Adam and Eve ate of the forbidden fruit to the end of the world, Christ carried our sins to the Cross, and we are all forgiven if we place our trust in Him. Wow!

When Jesus cried out with His last breath, "It's finished!" His agony burst through time and eternity, and He bought back what the Devil had stolen in the Garden. I have limited understanding, but I know that Heaven's gate is open wide, and one day I will live with Him. Yet still I sin, as though I do not know any better. I can assure you that I do. So, every day I repent, with every prayer I say. Father forgive me for I know too clearly what I do.

Oh Father Dear by Jaye Lewis

Did You know, Oh Father dear, how painful it would be,

To see Your Son just hanging there, in all His agony?

Did You see ungrateful me running from that sound;

When Jesus groaned his final breath, with silence all around?

Did You know that it would take so long, for my knees to bend

In full surrender to Your love, and so transform my end?

Did You see me long ago, when I was but a child,

Longing for those tender arms from someone meek and mild?

Oh Father, did You see me, when first I knelt in prayer;

When first I felt Your presence and just knew You must be there?

Did You hide Your face in anguish, as I pounded in the nail?

Did You despise my presence when Your Son began to wail?

When I grabbed the whip and beat Him,

Did You hate my presence then?

Was it then that you forgave me, so I could begin again?

I was stubborn, Lord, I surely was, and often I resented!

Why did You seek this stubborn child, and make her so contented?

Oh Father, I can hear Your voice, sweetly calling me.

I long to run into Your arms and feel serenity.

Oh Father, I can feel His pain and every drop of blood,

Washing all my sins away in mercy’s cleansing flood.

To think that You allowed this, embracing every stroke

Of stone, and whip, and curse and lash, before I ever spoke!

It breaks my heart to know that I could cause his blessed face,

To break in utter agony, to save this human race.

So even though my sorrow seems too heavy now to bear,

It helps to know You’re with me here, and You’ll be with me there,

When last I breathe my final breath and see Your glorious smile,

I’ll thrill to hear Your loving words, “Come child and rest awhile.”

With love, and a blessed Passion week,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for the Lonely

2011-04-11T09:56:00.000-05:00

Hello friends,

Sometimes it feels like the darkness is closing in. I know, I've been there. Alone and friendless. I've been there, too. But the darkness can be beautiful, too, much as the picture above, where the bare loveliness of the tree branch breaks up the darkness with hope.

In the darkness of loneliness, I learned that God was very near. I could reach out with my heart and know Him better, not in some superficial way, but in intimate fellowship, where warmth and hope abide.

Sometimes when depression weighs upon me, I often cry out.

"When? When, oh Lord, will it end? How long will I be kept in the dark?"

Then, sometimes as water seeps into the sand, slowly and fully, I will hear a voice in the darkness, telling me I'm not alone. It is an intimate moment that would be eclipsed in a bright and busy world, where the cares of ones heart are often lost in the din.

Eventually, even for the very depressed or the very lonely, without warning, the mist of the dawn will break into the darkest night, and rosy sunshine will begin to burst upon the heart. Wait for it and do something, read, sew, pray, and believe. The dawn will break and the sky will once more be blue again.

Journey to Healing by Jaye Lewis

Each night, I'd lay upon my bed...

The pillow cradling my head...

Then, wearily, I'd 'play my mind'

With all regrets, I'd left behind.

The day before, had left me pale...

The future, where I'd, surely, fail...

The times I could have done so much...

To reach a heart, with just a touch.

I saw each one, the great and small...

The loved ones I'd not loved at all...

The hopes and dreams of all the years...

I'd concentrate upon my fears...

I'd missed each moment that I could

Begin again, and done much good.

I'd see, each picture of my grief,

And 'time' would 'steal me' like a thief.

All the joy, within my soul...

The worship that could make me whole...

And, yet, a 'voice', so deep within...

The Light that shines, to heal my sin...

Calls me forward from the dark...

A small caress...a chance remark...

Remembered kindness from a friend...

Belief that this is not the end...

All, come at once, and I can feel,

That, surely, I've begun to heal!

I find a strength, I've never known,

Beyond myself, like 'coming home.'

I looked into my loved ones' eyes,

And I began to realize...

That through the dark and tortured climb,

God had been there, all the time!

The journey into depression is a dark and lonely place. Devoid of feeling, even those of deep faith have felt hopeless, far from family and friends, and isolated from God. The journey into healing is one that requires of family and friends, compassion, patience, and unconditional love. I was one who had all the blessings. To those who have not, I promise you that, even so, you are not alone!

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

The Little Black Dog by Jaye Lewis

2011-04-06T08:32:00.032-05:00

The Little Black Dog

A Child's Easter Story

The little black dog

By the side of the road,

Watched Him carry

His terrible load.

His tail hung sadly

Where it once was proud.

Who could have guessed

That he'd follow the crowd?

But, then, he'd followed

His Master so long,

Patient and loyal,

His love burning strong.

Just a little black dog,

With no home of his own,

Could not be persuaded

To leave Him alone.

Thirsty and hungry,

He waited to feed

As his Master fulfilled

Every follower's need.

Then the Master would pat

The dog on the head,

And together He'd share

His food and His bed.

Tomorrow the crowds

Would again gather near,

And the dog would raise

An inquisitive ear...

"Happy are those

Who bring peace to others."

"Happy are they

Who treat all men as brothers."

As the Master preached,

He taught them to love;

Then He told them this mystery:

He'd come from above!

This brought accusations;

Some accused Him of fraud;

But the little black dog

Knew He was God.

With love in his eyes

And a faithful heart,

The little black dog

Would never depart.

So, he followed his Master

From place to place,

Always intent on

His wonderful face.

The little black dog,

In a garden one night.

Witnessed in awe,

A terrible sight.

Great drops of blood

Rolled down the kind face.

Never sleeping nor moving

The dog watched in place.

How he wanted to lick

The sweat from His brow,

And give Him some comfort

But didn't know how.

So, he watched and he waited

Patient and still;

And now he was following

Up a great hill.

Not a whine, nor a whimper,

Just a sad pair of eyes,

As he witnessed the pain,

That could not be disguised.

Beneath the Cross On Calvary’s hill,

The little dog watched, submitting his will.

His ears perked up

As he heard a voice.

'Twas the Master,

But, oh, he couldn't rejoice!

"It's finished! Into Thy Hands, My Father!" He cried.

Then the little black dog

Laid down and died.

It was over for him.

His journey was through.

But, he left a message

For me and you.

Follow the Master.

Be faithful and true;

For the Master will always

Be faithful to you.

© Jaye Lewis, 1985

Hello friends: This little poem was written during one of the lowest points in my life. The particulars, now, really don't matter, but I do remember it well. I sat on the floor, sobbing, and I poured my heart out to a God, whom I doubted. My faith had been stripped from me, and I couldn't believe that God really loved me.

Out of my sobs, and my fears, and from a child's heart, this poem was born. I wrote it on a scrap of paper with a dull pencil. In spite of my doubts, and my fear that my doubts just might be truth, a little girl's faith, from long ago, burst forth.

This poem is incomplete, much as my faith was at the time of my writing. I hoped, but I didn't know if I believed. I no longer had the faith of a child. So, to you parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents, or just to the child, still alive within you....

You finish the story. Tell your children about what happens next. Christ died. He was placed in a tomb, and in three days, He arose from the dead, by His own power. Tell them. Tell yourself. Even if you doubt. Christ is alive. He's alive! HE'S ALIVE!!!

I know this is true, not by my own knowledge, but by the grace of God. I asked that day for my child's faith to be restored. My journey was long, and the road often crooked, but God made my path straight before me. He followed me, until I had the strength to follow Him.

The dog in the picture is my own Happy Dog. He has been by my side for thirteen years. His muzzle is gray, and his eyes are dim, but his faithfulness never wavers. He has taught me more about God, than a thousand sermons, and he has taught me more about myself than I could have ever imagined. Happy Dog is the perfect illustration of the little black dog. In spite of my doubts on the day that I sat on the floor sobbing; in spite of my faint and wobbly walk; God placed in my heart that child's faith that I had lost.

I believe.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words in Times of Trouble by Jaye Lewis

2011-03-24T09:59:00.008-05:00

Hello friends,

It is difficult to look at our world, in these later days without a sense of apprehension, fear, and sorrow, even when our personal lives are filled with comfort and peace. We are, after all, brothers and sisters on this earth. Apart from God and His grace, we are all we have. When tragedy strikes others, no matter where, we all feel it. We are the human race, and in spite of catastrophic events, I believe that God is with each of us every step of the way.

I have experienced hunger, beatings, abandonment, and the betrayal of family and false friends, but God has gotten me through. He rescued me, and He has given me a good life, with a kind and loving husband, with two devoted daughters, and the home I never thought that I'd ever have. On the other hand, I have been to God, a false friend who blamed Him for every sorrow. I have abandoned Him, and I have spit in His face, more than once. But through all of that, He has loved me, kept me safe, always been here for me, and my one true friend.

God does not demand perfection, because, well, we're just not perfect. Not even close. He wants nothing from us except our love. Our prayers are the music of His heart. Our obedience is a sweet treasure to Him. When we reach out, He is already there, the perfect Father, the warm arms that hold us close. I have felt those arms encircle me, and I have felt His love filling me. And that, my friends, is what keeps me going back, no matter how far I stray.

He is the peace, in the midst of turmoil, and He is our victory within our defeat. Oh, please, no matter your trouble or sorrow, do not give up on Him, for He will carry you through. I pray for His presence in every aspect of your life. I pray that you will expect Him to be there, and that you will ask Him to give you the victory over your troubles.

Oh please, do not give up. Do not believe that you are alone. For He is closer than your own heartbeat. He has said that He will never forget you, even should your mother forget you. He says, that we are carved on the palms of his hands.

I have walked the weary road of life, with misfortunes every step of the way. I have sought the wisdom of the world, and I have found none. I have sought peace from within and without, and I have found nothing. With every beat of my heart I have searched for meaning in my life, and I have come up empty. The only peace, and wisdom, and meaning in my life, I have found on my knees, at the foot of the Cross of Jesus.

It is true that there are other doctrines, and other faiths, but I cannot speak for them. I can only speak the truth of my own life, my own journey, and it is at the foot of the Cross that my life began to change. Christ is my way. He is my truth. He is my light and my life. And He is my victory.

The Eye of the Storm

Words and Music by Jaye Lewis

Keep me, oh Lord, in the eye of the storm,

Where my heart can beat without fear.

In the silence so deep;

In the warmth of Your love;

I know that Your presence is near.

For though it is dark, and the silence so still,

Your Light still illumines the place.

You are with me, oh Lord;

You surround me with hope;

In the dark I can still see Your face.

In the eye of the storm,

I can hear with my heart;

The beautiful tones of Your voice;

And though I may dread,

The destruction I hear,

In my soul, I still can rejoice.

They surround me, oh Lord, with their visions of hate;

I can see that they've singled out me!

With my hand tucked in yours;

And my hope in Your love,

I know that I truly am free!

So, I wait on the storm, with a joy in my heart,

A gift that I know comes from You.

So, how can I fear? I am safe in Your arms!

In the eye of the storm, You are here!

www.entertainingangels.org

Thank You for the Sunset by Jaye Lewis

2011-03-10T09:29:00.006-05:00

Hello friends,

Every once and awhile, I share a poem with you, that I have written. I would like to share more, because each poem illustrates my relationship with God. He is our Father, after all, and He listens to our prayers. While He doesn't grant our every wish, He loves our prayers. He loves to hear from us, because the desires of our hearts are music to God's ears.

Thank You for the Sunset by Jaye Lewis

Thank You, God, for the sunset

And for the end of day;

When the rosy sky above me

Simply takes my breath away.

Thank You for the mountains

Which fill my every view;

Reminding me of the joy I feel,

When I spend the day with You.

Thank You, God, for the grace You give

Which fills me with delight;

From the early morning sunrise,

And through the darkest night.

Forgive me, Lord, for my faithless heart,

When my soul is filled with grief,

When my body simply fails me

And I pray for swift relief.

It’s hard to face the daylight,

When a soul is wracked with pain.

Yet I cannot resist Your love

So I return again.

Lord, I am blessed with children

And a husband filled with grace.

I can see the love they feel for me,

When I look upon each face.

I wonder why the loneliness

As I struggle through each day?

I pray that You will come to me

And take my pain away.

These are the questions that I have

As I talk to You within;

Yet I am grateful for Your love

Which forgives my every sin.

I pray for those who read this,

For I know their struggle too.

May they be blessed with sweet desire

To spend the day with You.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Doxie of My Heart by Jaye Lewis

2011-02-23T14:05:00.005-05:00

Good-night sweet prince, my little man;

With muzzle now so gray;

I see you racing down the hill

Just like a pup at play.

With every leap your faithful heart

Fills mine with terrible fear.

I know the days are growing short,

And soon you’ll not be here.

You are my little troubadour.

You are my shining knight.

Ferociously you keep your watch

Just aching for a fight.

More than rubies is your worth,

More than silver or gold.

I wouldn’t trade the world for you,

So brave you are, and bold.

Ah, sweet prince, I love you so,

I doubt I can live without you.

When your heart forgets to beat,

I’ll tell stories all about you.

Yet, I’ll go on without your love,

So funny and so wise.

The sweet devotion in your heart,

Shines deep within your eyes.

Has it really been so long,

Since we first fell in love?

A tiny puppy in my hand

Was sent by God above?

I sob my grief before its time

I cannot let you go.

I raise my voice to heaven and ask

Why this must be so.

Good night sweet prince, my little lord,

Doxie of my heart.

I’ll treasure every day with you,

Until we two must part.

Happy Thirteenth Birthday Happy Dog, My Sweet and Loving Prince!!

Who Knows? By Jaye Lewis

2011-01-20T12:59:00.011-05:00

Hello Friends,

This is a subject that has long been on my heart. It has lain heavy, like a great heartache. Who knows the condition of our pet's souls? From those who believe that we all merely melt into the ground, with no hope of any afterlife, to those who believe we can kill a chicken and find wisdom, to those Christian theologians who profess to know the mind of God -- all profess to know the condition of an animal's soul.

I have often said that someone who abuses an animal is just as likely to abuse a human being. The study of human psychology, or abnormal human psychology, has proven it to be the case. However, this is not an intellectual treatise. This is from the heart of a woman who believes the words of Jesus when He gave His sermon about worry.

"Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" Matthew 6:26 KJV

"Therefore do not worry...." Matthew 6:31 KJV

Jesus has given us a perfect example of our worth, compared to the value that our Father in Heaven places upon these little creatures. The significant phrase is "more value than." We have more value in God's eyes, than the value of His precious creatures whom He feeds. God feeds these wonderful creatures, because they have value to Him. He loves them.

Jesus tells us in another part of Matthew, just how precious are these small creatures.

"Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father's will...Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows." Matthew 10:29, 31

A copper coin was not worth very much in Bible times. Yet Jesus was not telling us to have contempt for the little birds. He was holding them up as an example of how precious we are to God. We have value to Him. He loves us.

Let's take a look at that Scripture with today's yardstick. In America, a copper coin would be a penny, which is worth very little. So, perhaps we could say we are worth many pennies. Doesn't make us seem worth very much does it? But that's not what Christ was saying. He was saying that our Father in Heaven has placed great value upon us, though I sometimes wonder why. He was saying to our stubborn, hardened hearts that God loves us, and His love is worth everything.

It's not about us. It's about God. He holds the yardstick, not us. We are not to place value upon ourselves. He is the one who places the value. We are to be as humble as the smallest sparrow who comes to my back deck to feed.

My point is that animals are precious, especially our pets. They are not only precious to us, but they are precious to God, and I don't see why that is not crystal clear. I have heard more than one preacher extol on the worthlessness of animals, citing one of the most misunderstood passages in Scripture.

"Who knows the spirit of the sons of men, which goes upward, and the spirit of the animal, which goes down to the earth?" Ecclesiastes 3:21

That is the single line in Scripture that a Christian preacher will seize upon to teach a doctrine that the Bible doesn't even speak about: the false doctrine of animals without souls. It infuriates me. It makes me angry because that is NOT what that Scripture says. Look at the end of that sentence. There is no period. There is no exclamation point. There is a question mark. And the first two words hold the key. "Who knows...?"

Who knows? You? Me? Them? No. That is why we must not take Scripture out of context. Read the entire passage. Shoot! Read at least a paragraph. How did a question turn into a statement? I don't know, and it makes me heartsick. I am no theologian. I make no claim to be. However, where the Word of God is concerned, I tread lightly. We must not pretend to know it all. We know little, especially when we try to understand the heart and mind of God.

On a very human level, however, I am certain that we have been given these close relationships with God's creatures, who were created before us, so that we might learn from them. They teach us a lot about ourselves. And according to the Son of God, they teach us a lot about God.

Who knows? Only God knows. We can only hope to try.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

A Good Seed by Jaye Lewis

2011-01-19T11:24:00.016-05:00

Hello friends,

When Edmund Branch arrived in China, in 1899, he had such high hopes. The young missionary had dreams of converting all of China to Christianity. Edmond spent twenty years learning the many different dialects of the people, and he gave thousands of sermons. He was well known, and loved, by everyone who knew him.

When "Fa-dil," as the Reverend Father was known, arrived in a town, the whole village turned out, and they shared with him, all that they had. Edmund was often reminded of the "Widow's Mite," the parable that Jesus spoke of, where the rich came to the Temple and offered great wealth, asking for God's favor. Then a widow came and gave a paltry sum, but Jesus said that she gave the greatest gift, because she gave "all that she had." So, were the Chinese people to Father Edmund Branch. They gave him all they had.

In spite of his popularity throughout the villages, Edmund was despondent. In the twenty years that he spent, preaching in China, he had only one convert, a young boy of humble birth. He became Fa-dil's assistant, lighting candles on the altar of the primitive church, and serving as his altar boy. In that time the young man got married, and his wife converted, but no one else converted to Father's faith. They remained Buddhist. Finally Father "Fa-dil" gave up, in despair, and he returned home. He was a failure, and everyone knew it.

For forty-five more years Edmund served in obscure parishes, this humble missionary, who served God without a single convert. Finally, at the age of eighty-five, Edmond retired from the active priesthood. However, he couldn't resist one last trip to China, and to the village where he had baptized that one young boy. Fa-dil stepped out of the Twentieth Century automobile

and into the era of yesterday, when he had first placed his foot on the soil that was China. He had wired ahead, the time of his arrival.

An old man stepped forward to meet him, bowing with respect, and smiling broadly. Then he ran to embrace the Father, his beloved Fa-dil. Tears rolled down Edmund's face, as he embraced his only convert. Soon the entire village emptied out of the huts, and they all lined up to kiss Fa-dil's hand.

"Fa-dil," said the Chinese elder, "will you baptize my family?" For they had all become Christians, because of their saintly grandfather, who had taught them the Gospel.

"Certainly, I will!" Edmund smiled, thinking ironically, that he'd finally made a couple more converts.

"Where is your family?" Edmund asked, puzzled?

In halting, yet very good English, the, now, much older convert of Edmund, grinned his answer.

"Here they are!" He cried.

His arm swept to include all the smiling faces, who waited to kiss Edmund's hand. Hundreds were lined up, maybe a thousand people, lined up to kiss Edmund's hand and request Baptism. Every person baptized in the following days were all the descendants of the young boy whom Edmund had baptized. You see, Edmund had not been a failure after all. He had merely planted a good seed, and just as Jesus said, he had reaped a thousand-fold.

To the end of his days, Edmund never forgot the day he baptized nearly a thousand people. He cherished the lesson that he had learned. Success is not measured in the amount of the harvest, but in the depth that one sows a good seed.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words: Growing Old With Humility by Jaye Lewis

2011-01-07T10:13:00.012-05:00

Hello friends,

It is difficult for me to choose which Book in the Old Testament that I most closely identify with. The Old Testament has taught me many things about God, the Bible, and myself. No Old Testament figure has had more of an influence on my life than David. Hero he may have been, and hero he may remain, but David's heart belonged to God. It was before God that David knelt, not in pride, but with humility.

"This poor man cried out," David acknowledged speaking of himself, "and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles." Psalm 34:6.

David knew who he was. He was no wimp, as we would say today; yet he knew that every victory he ever had, whether against another, or against his own human failings, God was his victory.

I first read about David at the age of twelve. The Bible was forbidden to me, yet I disobeyed and I read it in secret. I must admit that I had backing from my mother. I'll always be thankful for her encouragement.

I was raised in the old Catholic Church, where personal reading of the Bible was forbidden. The Pope was called the vicar of Christ on earth, and the priest represented Christ to us in our own Parishes. Much of the Catholic Church in my childhood, actually stood in the way of a personal relationship with God. David, on the other hand was a shining example of a man whose relationship was so personal, that he willingly and humbly opened himself before God, fully expecting wrath, yet gaining God's mercy and His love.

That is where I want to live my life with God, personal, exposed in His sight, admitting of my sins, and repenting from them. I want to throw myself upon His mercy, knowing that I don't deserve it and cannot earn it.

David danced before God. He celebrated Him in his life, in spite of his sinful ways. David hated his own sin. Once he realized that He hurt God, and hurt Him he did, David humbly repented and begged for forgiveness. Because of this, God not only called David friend, but He called him His beloved. That is what the name David means, "beloved."

This is the relationship I desire to have with God. I try to live my life with humility, and often, I fail. I try to be brave in the face of tragedy, and boy, I really fail at that. But I try, and sometimes, by the grace of God, I am victorious, and when I am, I praise His name.

I know that someone reading this might be confused as to what I mean. I'm so sorry. How difficult it is for me to express what all this means to me. I can only confess that God is as real as my heart beat, which I can feel but cannot see. He is more powerful than a strike of lightning, which can be seen, but little understood.

There are so many things in nature that are as mysterious as faith in God. For instance, gravity is one of the weakest forces in nature, yet it keeps the planets from colliding, and from throwing ourselves into the sun. Why? Science can teach us many things, but only with limitation. Science can tell us how the sky is blue, but they cannot tell us why. There are so many diseases that once were deadly, yet in our understanding of nature which surrounds us, there has been found a cure.

Really? You might say. Name one medicine that has given us a cure which has changed the world, you might demand. Okay. Penicillin. Penicillin changed the world. Where did it come from? Mold. Even when I was a girl, penicillin was so powerful against infection, that one shot was enough to cure you. Now we have so many derivatives, such as Augmentin and Amoxillin, which are made in a laboratory. Science can discover but it cannot create. Science can only imitate that which God has done.

There are so many miracles that God has done, within my own life, which fill me with wonder and humility. Praise His name. In my blog I have enumerated so many of these events. If Science would only consider that there is a God, and that they need Him, what wonders and medical cures could be brought about. If Science would have humility and acknowledge God, many secrets in nature might be understood.

Humility before God is not something that comes easy to me. I like to whine and complain first. I even manage to blame God for many troubles that I have brought about myself. I am a messy, clumsy child of God. I often wonder if He rolls His eyes at me. And, why am I still here? That question I cannot answer I cannot find, but I enjoy every moment that I spend with Him, and loving Him makes my heart smile. He is my first love, and whether I am going to like tomorrow or not, I pray that I will accept it with humility.

The Touch of His Hand by Jaye Lewis

I have been to the top of a mountain

Where the air is crisp and clean.

I have seen the Gulf meet the ocean

In a tempest of blue and green.

I have heard the deepest silence

In the eye of the hurricane;

Yet, in the storm that raged within me,

I found the sweetest Name.

The Name that created the heavens,

And rules them to this day;

The Name that rules, within my heart

Can never be stolen away.

Where ocean greets the gulf stream;

Where shore meets the sunlit sand;

Where mountain meets the heavens;

I can see the touch of His hand.

In awe I seek the distance,

Where galaxies collide;

This God of minute detail,

From Him I cannot hide.

He follows my every footstep.

He's sought me all my days.

He's taken residence in my heart

And teaches me all His ways.

I do not learn that easy.

I struggle as David did.

Yet, He sought me in my darkest place,

Where I thought that I was hid.

And, still, He seeks the corners

Of the soul that is burdened with sin;

He pierces all the secrets,

And spreads His Light within.

Go to Him! Wait no longer!

He desires to save your soul.

Go, now, to your Savior, Jesus!

His Love will make you whole!

And if you already know Him,

Hold Him close within your heart.

Be a guiding light to others

And His love will not depart.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Growing Old With Diabetes by Jaye Lewis

2011-01-04T11:28:00.005-05:00

Hello friends,

It's hard to believe that we're into a new year. I hope that this finds you all well. No, I mean it. Being well does not mean that all sickness is gone and you're ready to hit the snowy slopes. If that is true, than I congratulate you, but to me, being well is a state of mind. Being well means I WILL NOT GIVE UP!!

Having diabetes can mean a lot of depression, especially after the holidays, because during the holidays, we usually gain weight. Here we are, another year older and not much wiser. Diabetes is a diabolical illness. It is a tenuous balance between weight-gain and weight loss. It is especially difficult to lose weight since the loss of a single pound can send your blood glucose levels spiraling downward. Exercise, along with diet, can mean ups and downs that boggle the imagination. I've been doing both, and it is very slow, since a little too much, along with not enough testing could send my blood glucose suddenly down into hypoglycemia and shock. So I'm being careful.

I test about six times a day. I've had doctors who have denied prescriptions for more than three times a day testing. If you have one of those doctors, send them packing. No one should have the right to play God with your life. I'm a great patient, as long as I have a good doctor. I've fired more than one doctor, and I've told off a few others. It's important that you have a doctor who makes you feel confident and cared for. The bottom line, however, is this: you are the only person who cares most about you. You must be your own physician. You must know more and care more for your own body than any doctor you will ever have.

The irony of all this is that when you do take care of yourself, and you must, often the doctor finds you less appealing. Have you ever had a doctor who said, "I have to get off the phone! I have sick people to care for?!" Ah yes, I have had that doctor, more than once.

One of the problems with growing old with diabetes, are the other diseases that also attack your body. It feels, sometimes, as though I'm falling apart bit by bit. Like an automobile, first a fender falls off, then the steering wheel, then the side mirror, then the tires, then the motor... Well, you know. I also have asthma, trigeminal neuralgia, arthritis, high blood pressure, diabetic neuropathy, heart arrhythmia due to my medications, and so forth. You, also, have a host of medical conditions, and the whole package can cause depression and a desire to give up.

I have had friends who gave up. A friend of mine periodically would decide, today I do not have diabetes. Then she would stop her medication, head to the pancake house, and she would order everything on their menu. She would then proceed to eat her way into the emergency room of the hospital. She hurt her friends, her husband, her children, and she hurt herself.

Another friend would simply take the day off from diabetes, stop her medication and head to the bakery or a restaurant and eat whatever was chocolate and available. Why they did this, I never understood. For them it was a way to take control, but they held hostage everyone in their family. We do not have that right. Going off of our medications and deliberately eating everything in sight is NOT taking control. It is letting the disease take control of us. My family is worth more than that. Any sacrifice, any struggle is worth the effort, for myself and for them. We must put our health, and the love of our families, before our selfish desires.

My friends, if I seem as though I'm preaching, I hope that you will forgive me. If I am preaching, it is only to myself. I have been selfish. I have worried my family. And the worst of all things has happened in my life, giving me a frightening wake-up call. My precious husband, the love of my life, has had a heart attack, and he almost died. Praise God, he survived through life changing surgery. Immediately the whole family went on his diet.

Because of this near tragedy, I am eating better than I have in a long, long time. Slowly, I am backing down on my insulin. Slowly, I am taking baby steps with exercise, all the while realizing that every step forward requires an adjustment in my thinking and an adjustment in my medications. It's not easy, but very slowly, I am losing weight, and I am feeling encouraged. I have gone from I can take control to Please God, take control of my life!

So, this new year, I have not, nor am I making new years resolutions, dooming myself to failure. I am reevaluating my life and my choices, and choosing to be all that I can be, through the grace of God, for Him, for my family and for myself. So help me God!

Heavenly Father, I know that there is for me, and each of us, a time when we must say good-by to this world, and enter the eternities. However, for today and tomorrow, I pray that you will grant me the time to glorify you with my life until You come for me, to take me home. I love You, Lord. You know that, because you can see my heart. I have been lazy. I have been willful. And, worst of all, I had given up. Please Lord, light my path, and make it straight before me, as only You can.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Encouraging Words for 2011 by Jaye Lewis

2010-12-27T12:38:00.012-05:00

Hello friends,

My mother believed that giving should always require a cost, not money, but a sacrifice. If you give, and you don't give a piece of yourself with it, than you've really given nothing at all.

When I was young, my mother put her belief into action. She would often reach into her empty pockets, and miraculously, she would bring forth just exactly what the other person needed. It was inspiring to me, while, to my sister, it was cause for scorn. Anything childlike and beautiful in my mother, was effectively stomped out, as though one might snuff out a candle or put out a campfire. I don't know why, because it was at these times that I loved my mother the most.

Why would anyone rather look at a pile of ashes? How could anyone not see, that by casting her down, they were killing her just a bit at a time? It is why I have difficulty forgiving my siblings, for all they did to my mother, and all they failed to do for her. My efforts were never enough for her. My mother wanted them to understand her and to love her. I doubt they ever did. Oh how I loved my mother, but she never accepted it. But still, with all of the pain and heartache of our later lives, I love her still, and I forgive her for not understanding just how much I loved her.

My spirit of giving comes from my mother's example: the day she gave a beggar my father's only suit; the Christmas in which she protected a mother mouse and her naked little newborns from harm, and she fed them until they grew up and left the nest. Birds, kittens, pups, and chicks, all were the same to my mother, God's little children who needed someone to love and look after them, and she did.

My mother was a woman who was filled with a tender heart, and it was broken repeatedly, so much so that she lost her grasp upon reality, and became a bitter old woman. But those were the later years. I focus on the younger ones, and I have tried to become the woman my mother really wanted to be.

I am my own woman, but I remember her with each event, where I am able to give a piece of myself with each act of giving. Others may be logical and say well you can't help everyone. I agree, but when did knowing the "hard" of anything stop me from investing the "heart" of everything? With every act, with every word I write, with every prayer, I leave a piece of myself. The miracle in all of this, is that I've discovered the more that I give of myself, the more that is left over for me to give again. Another saying of my mother's is giving is a reward in itself.

I've often told my children that the only thing that you can take with you when you die, is what you have given away. There are various versions of that saying, and it is nothing new. But it can be new for you, just as it can be new for me. Jesus said, that by giving a cup of water to one of his little ones, it is as though we have given to Him. As we approach this new year, thoughtfully and prayerfully, may it be so for you and for me.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Christmas Blessings and Happy New Year!!! By Jaye Lewis

2010-12-24T17:25:00.008-05:00

Hello friends,

In the Name of Christ for whom we celebrate; In the Spirit of His love, joy, peace, and hope, I wish each of you a joyous Christmas and a New Year filled with promise. My prayer is that all good things happen to you and yours, today and the year to come.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

How Dare I?! By Jaye Lewis

2010-12-07T12:08:00.023-05:00

I’m always amazed to read the scathing blast of a Christian’s self-righteous sermon in print. A couple of Bible passages are always given as a reference to illustrate the point of the sermon. Then the inevitable guilt club is picked up and swung, right at a sinful heart, in perfect judgment.

“How dare you ask God’s forgiveness, when you are not forgiving?!” They shriek.

“How dare you ask for mercy when you are not merciful!” They ask.

The questions and accusations are hurled like darts at a pulsing target, and when they hit the heart, many things can happen. These accusations can make a person, weighed heavy by sin, to feel hopeless, as they suppose that “not even God will forgive my sin.” I have seen this happen, and I have also been that sinner, who gave up before I even tried.

What happened to the Scripture, “Judge not that you be not judged? For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.” Matthew 7:1-2.

Have we forgotten Jesus’ exchange with the woman caught in adultery?

“And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.” John 8:11

We Christians! How we love to judge other Christians. We have so much compassion for the lost, but we seem to have very little compassion for one another. Why is that? Are we beginning to feel a bit holy? We must remember that we are not holy. We are deserving of the same wrath as those who war against Christ. The difference is that we depend on Him to bring us to the Father through His holiness. Except that the Father sees us through Christ’s mercy, His sacrifice, His perfection, then we would have no hope. I cannot say this loud enough. We have no perfection of our own!

So, now, before God and my fellow Christians, I will confess, “How dare I.”

I dare to go to God for mercy, every day, every hour, every minute, because I know that I have no mercy in my heart, except by His grace.

I dare to ask forgiveness, again, and again, and again, because I have no forgiveness in my heart, except by His grace.

I go to Him throughout my day, and into the night, as I sin again,and again, with my heart, with my mind, and with my mouth.

I ask for forgiveness, because of my unforgiveness.

Then I ask Him to grant me the grace to change my heart, so that one day, I will be able to forgive, selflessly and utterly.

I ask for mercy because of my lack of mercy.

I ask Him to forgive me, even as I brood over those who have hurt me.

I ask Him to forgive me, and to forget my sin, even as I remember…remember every hurt and every unkind word that has been hurled at me.

I ask Him, yet again, for forgiveness, for my unforgiveness.

Each time that I repeat myself, begging for God’s presence within my sinful life, He comes to me, if I let Him. He reminds me that David, beloved of God, also cried out in desperation.

“Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight: that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou Judgest.” Psalms 51:1-4

I, too, have cried out just like David:

"Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate thee? And am not I grieved with those that rise up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred: I count them mine enemies.”Psalms 139:21-22

I also cry out, like David:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

Only God can do that, and I am certain that I can trust God to take my old sinful heart and make a new one.

I am certain that when I try to be like Jesus, I am going to fail, utterly and miserably; however I also am confident that God, who searches my heart, knows that my desire is to be like Him, and only Christ can make me so. Jesus knows that when my faith is weakened by anger and outrage, I will stubbornly cling to Him. He knows that I am painfully aware that I cannot change myself. I can only allow Him to change me.

I am a sinner. A forgiven sinner. Not because of my efforts, intent, or goodness. I am not good. I am capable of any sin…except for, and only because of His grace, am I saved. I am helpless to help myself, so I depend on Jesus.

I go to Him in every ugly moment of my life, confessing, then sinning again; but I keep going. And that is how, and that is why I can say, "I dare!"

Father in heaven, Abba, my only God. Please forgive me my unforgiveness, and help me to forgive, even as you have forgiven me. Help me to have mercy, even as you have been merciful to me. Help my faith to be founded, not upon emotionalism, but in the sure, abiding grace of Your love. You are my rock to which I cling, and You are my hiding place, and there is none other who can take your place in my heart.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Doorway of Heaven by Jaye Lewis

2010-11-22T12:34:00.004-05:00

I've been to the doorway of heaven,

Where the sky is a lavender blue,

Where brilliant light surrounded me,

And the warmth of kindness too.

I have seen the people gathered,

Worshiping the King.

Then I heard the angel whisper,

“This is where you enter in.”

He held my hand so gently,

I could barely feel his touch.

In spite of my sins he led me

To the King I love so much.

As we walked into the throne room,

The crowd parted in the mist,

Slowly he led me onward

To the feet I longed to kiss.

Kneeling down before Him

The King smiled as He looked down.

Then gathering us in His loving arms,

I could hear His heartbeat sound.

Like lightening He struck my heart!

Don’t stop! Please give me more!

Then all at once I hurtled back

To the life I’d known before!

“No-o-o-o-o!” I screamed. “Don’t leave me!”

“Please bring me back again!”

But over it was, and He left me

Sobbing out my pain.

It’s hard for me to understand

Why God blessed me in this way.

Perhaps it was because He knew

I’d tell you all today:

He’s alive! He’s real! He loves you!

He wants to bring you home;

To heal each lonely, broken heart,

And leave you not alone.

My words are so inadequate

To tell you what transpired,

And how I felt when lightening

Set my heart on fire.

Please think about the moment

When your soul and body part.

Don’t leave your future all to chance.

Please give Him now your heart.

My friends,

This is a true event that I can't explain. I'm not holy, nor am I more than a sinful woman who happened to be blessed in an extraordinary way. This experience took place thirty-five years ago, when my youngest child was born. I planned never to share this outside my immediate family; however I feel called to share this with you, right now.

On Thanksgiving Day, it will have been a month since my husband's heart attack. Thank God he survived and is doing well. So, I thought, maybe you should know, that God is real. That there is hope. Heaven is a real place where God wants us to be, with Him. If you don't know Him, I hope you seek Him. It's not hard. He'll show you the way. God bless and keep you. I will hold you in my heart.

With love and a Blessed Thanksgiving Day,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Angels Wings by Jaye Lewis

2010-11-17T12:03:00.010-05:00

Hello friends,

On October 25, 2010, my husband had a massive heart attack at work. He suddenly knew he was going to fall, so he lay down on the concrete. One of his co-workers saw him and ran over to help.

"I'm having a heart attack," Louie said.

"John, quick, call 911!" Andy hollered.

John ran like the wind, and the ambulance was there in a flash. All of Louie's closest friends were there to help.

"How can I help?" His boss asked.

"Pray for me." Steve said.

"I will." Said Travis.

"Now!!!" Steve demanded weakly. So Travis prayed.

Before God, with everyone watching, Travis knelt on the cement, and he humbly prayed for Louie's life. God heard, and He answered immediately.

Louie was rushed to our local hospital, where they called for a MedEvac helicopter from a large hospital to our south. Even though there was an electrical storm that whipped our small region, and against all odds, the pilot flew into the storm, and he rescued my husband.

There is a ninety minute window of time between the beginning of a heart attack and the life saving catheter stent. After that, there can be massive heart damage. Ninety minutes. Miraculously, from the time my precious husband was carried into the ambulance, and the heart catheter with its life saving stent opened his artery, it was eighty-eight minutes. Eighty-eight minutes. My husband's heart began to beat normally, and God spared his life.

There is much more to the story, but this is the important part. God is in control and He is always on time. He comes when He chooses, and He often gives his people angel's wings.

So, in His honor, with deepest humility, I share the above pictures, and the poem which goes with them.

The Morning of the Wow

Had I not got up at seven,

I'd have missed a lovely day,

When the mist hung on the mountain,

And took my breath away.

The sun began its journey

With a soft and rosy glow,

That touched the edges of the clouds

Painting all the valley below.

Then all at once the dawn broke

Shooting out with golden light.

It gathered mist up like a ball

And chased away the night.

The birds began their morning feed

At the breaking of the day.

Chirping out their cheerful songs

Chasing all my cares away.

I stood in awe and reverence,

Thanking God for this great gift.

In moments it was over,

And the mist began to lift;

And all around me was the day,

Not much to speak of now;

But I'll remember blissfully,

The morning of the WOW!

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

The above entry is the original work and property of the author. Please feel free to forward the above piece in its entirety to friends and family. Have a blessed Thanksgiving!

A New Dawn by Jaye Lewis

2010-10-14T13:40:00.008-05:00

Hello friends,

For the last ten years, I have spent nearly every day, on the internet, posting stories for books, magazines, websites, and online publications. It was a meaningful and sometimes lucrative endeavor. At the same time, I heard from, and wrote to hundreds of people across the globe. I tried to be a comfort, and I tried to validate their emotions and experiences, in their own lives, in such a way as not to "preach."

I tried to be Christ, meaning love without condition, and bring a sense of hope to their hearts. Sometimes I succeeded, and often I failed. I wonder what Jesus will say to me about that. I've been mocked, ridiculed, and misunderstood, amazingly, seldom. Most readers have hearts with love in their souls. I thank all of them, now.

Now, I feel called to a new work, and labor of love. With so many, at this time, doing without, I feel I must start giving more, in a more tangible way, to those in need. My daughters began a drive for the animal shelters in our area. Throughout the company where they work, people have opened their hearts and their pocket books, to save the animals, by providing funding, food, and supplies for the shelters and families, who cannot afford to feed their pets. It's been successful and a wonderful thing to watch.

So, what can I do? What can a woman shut-in do to help the people in our area. Well, God has made the answer obvious. I can sew dolls, quilts, and other toys for children in need. The quilts are aimed at both girls and boys, targeting their imagination and giving them hope. I'm working on my second quilt now. The quilts are small, more like lap robes, but into each one I will put all the beauty and faith that God has given to me. Next Christmas I, and my daughters, will have spent a year preparing, sewing and stuffing, making dolls and quilts for as many as we can. It's a new dawn, and already a labor of love.

I will continue with this blog, giving you updates on my efforts, and I hope you will pray for me. I will share photos of my progress, as I have always done, keeping in mind that this is for the greater glory of the Lord of my life, Jesus. May He reward and bless you in all that you do.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Keeping Our Families Healthy by Jaye Lewis

2010-09-23T11:20:00.004-05:00

Hello friends,

Have you ever gone to the Doctor's office and wondered if you are the only one who washes your hands? Then you go home again and wash and wash your hands, because you know you've been exposed to something awful? You count down the days, and finally after seven or ten days you feel you're safe; and BAM! you come down with a mystery illness that takes months to cure.

What about the week-end trek to the emergency room? You find yourself sitting in a room full of people who are hacking, coughing, sneezing, and sniffling, and you think, I'm gonna be sicker than I am now in another week. You bring in your alcohol wipes, your big name antiseptic wipes, and still you come down with a mystery disease.

The mystery diseases that I'm speaking of are clinically called Healthcare-Associated Infections or (HAIs). During the H1N1 pandemic, these secondary diseases, which are often unresponsive to antibiotics, were prowling the hospital corridors, by the unwashed hands of caring professionals and the grimy surfaces that we all come in contact with. They are pervasive and insidious illnesses, and they just might kill you.

I was scared to death during the panic of H1N1. Yes, I'm an asthmatic and diabetic, which made me six times more likely to die of the flu, but my biggest fear was HAIs. I wanted to arm myself with a bottle of bleach, and wipe down every surface in my doctor's office and (lucky me) the emergency room. I'm glad that I made it through. However HAIs are still out there, making their rounds from patient to patient, and even though most hospitals FAILED (probably yours) an infectious disease sweep by the CDC, still there are few hospitals that see a need to change.

Well, there is good news. Kimberly Clark is leading the way with a new initiative watch dog group called, of all things, The HAI Watchdog Community, and they invite you to join. It's about time someone watched out for all of us, who want to keep ourselves and our families healthy and safe. This is a good thing. The new website can be found at the following link: http://haiwatchnews.com/

I invite you to check out the HAI website and see for yourselves. Consider joining and become informed. This is an opportunity for all of us to be a part of something that we've all become concerned about: healthcare which actually takes care of us, our families, and our community. I intend to join for a healthier tomorrow for my family. I hope that you will too.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

The Autumn of My Life by Jaye Lewis

2010-08-30T10:51:00.007-05:00

Hello friends,

Time has a way of slipping away from us. We start out in the springtime of our lives. Everything we dream about is far, far away. Christmas will never come, and when it does, it ends so quickly. Summer speeds by us way too fast, and before we know it, summer is over and we are back in school.

Some of us have happy memories of our school days. I don't. School was a constant barrage of moving here and there, and meeting strangers, not friends. Days crawled by, exchanging one humiliation for another, always knowing that when we left, I would be forgotten and never remembered again.

Then comes the summer of our lives. Summer is a time of colorful parties, with ice cream running down our arms. It is a time for playing tag in the wee hours of the evening, while it is still light. At fifteen we lived in Louisville, Kentucky, and the evening was long and just light enough to get me in trouble. I loved to take my tennis racket and ball, and I would go over to the parking lot across the street to bounce my tennis ball against the blank, brick wall. Back and forth I'd go, bouncing away until the sweat dripped into my eyes, and I was tired to the bone. I enjoyed being alone, doing the things I loved. Being alone meant I didn't have to think of something interesting to say, to someone who didn't care. Being alone meant I could do healthy things that were possible simply because I was alone.

Now, I am in the autumn of my life. I'm sixty-four years old. The number, itself, means very little to me. I can't feel a number. Of course, I would love to look into a full length mirror and see a perfect picture of myself. But then, when I was young and beautiful, I would have told you I was plain, and even ugly, because I had been taught that of all those in my family, I was the least attractive of all. It's only now that I can look at a picture of me, long ago, and see what a lovely creature I was.

Now, I must look at myself in a whole new way. I must see my body through the eyes of my heart. Am I beautiful in my thoughts and my actions? Do I love much? Do I laugh more? Do I listen first, and talk last? Okay, I'm still working on that. Is my life so intertwined with the hopes and dreams of those I love, so that our lives, and hopes, and dreams become woven into a tapestry of reds, and greens, and gold? Or are our lives separate, and stingy, and cold?

Life is a tapestry. Much like a tartan plaid, each life is a thread, without which the cloth would be dull, and without beauty. In the autumn of my life, I strive for that tapestry, to be beautiful with warmth, and humor, and love. We cannot be young forever. Our youth will run by in a flash. And if our young lives are shallow, how can we have depth when we are old?

I have seen both sides. I have seen the very old be mean and calculating, having nothing but bitterness and loathing come out of their mouths. And I have seen those whose lives are filled with laughter, generosity, and love. Jesus said that the good man speaks from the goodness of his heart, and the evil man speaks from the evil of his heart, for out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.

Age is a reflection of the youth we have lived, with a life of generosity of spirit or the emptiness of selfishness. I have seen evil destroy itself, but I've also seen goodness live in the remembrance of those whose lives have been blessed with love and unselfishness. An ugly old man was once an ugly young one; and a mean old lady was a selfish young one. We cannot escape what we will become, except by intentional change and the grace of God.

These are the things that I have been mulling over in the autumn of my life. The rosy glow of dawn has been exchanged for the red and purple sky of the evening. However, I have seen sunsets which have lasted long into the purple dark of night. And these sunsets are the most beautiful of all. So, perhaps the autumn of my life will be a long and golden one, where I still have time to be a blessing to others, as I take the time to be thankful for each breath the Lord will give to me, before He comes to take me home. I hope I'll see you there.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangles.org

Friends, feel free to forward this message to friends and acquaintances, however forward in entirety and always include my name and website address. Copyright Jaye Lewis, 2010

Great Health Resource by Jaye Lewis

2010-08-26T21:53:00.003-05:00

Hello Friends,

Sometimes, no matter how big you are, or how small, you discover that you have something in common, something to share. I thought that this picture of our littlest dog, Peanut, and our biggest dog Jessie, is a good example of big and small depending on one another, and sharing a space.

I have something to share with you, that I believe will become a good resource for your questions about health and disease, especially after a year, behind us (thank God) where we were facing a frightening Pandemic. The resource that I'd like to share is http://www.infectionwatch.info/

I hope that you will turn to this new resource and get involved in their community, if that appeals to you. I'm sure that you will find something of interest to you.

God bless and keep you, with love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Moderation In All Things By Jaye Lewis

2010-07-21T14:12:00.003-05:00

Hello friends,

This has been a unique and painful day. I just lost a fight with our local government, over a new water line. I refused to sign an easement over to them, to allow them to dig up my yard. I was given the choice today. Either sign or have no water hook-up. Gee, let me think. Sign? Or no water? Difficult choice, since I have had no shower and my hair looks like a chicken had a bad hair day. So, we’re going to sign. The good news is that the water line is going down the other side of the street, because we resisted signing. Now, the worst they can do – I hope – is make a trench across the road, and cut the roots of a thirty year old maple tree, that was a young sapling when we bought our home. So, there’s gonna be a mess, but the trees that I planted as one-year-old seedlings will be saved. I hope.

The illustration I’m sharing, this inequity, is that life isn’t fair. We are frequently given difficult choices, and often we have to take the hard tumbles, roll over, and get up again. After all, my character hasn’t been assassinated, which has been the case of Shirley Sherrod, the ex-head of the Department of Agriculture’s rural development office in Georgia.

Shirley Sherrod’s true story is one of redemption. A change of heart. The heart we all should have. Having been raised in the south, I understand her story intimately. It is very strange, but I came across the accusation that was made about her, accusing her of racism. Failing to find a video of the snippet of a forty-five minute speech, I, of course, went to YouTube. There I found a longer version of her speech. It was there that I learned about her initial reaction to the plea of a white farmer, twenty years ago, and it was there that I learned the rest of the story and her change of heart. She said “it was revealed” to her that the issue was not about black or white, but the needs of the poor. So, she had a revelation, and there is only One Person who reveals and changes the human heart. God.

Of course, she suffered humiliation, helplessness, and the loss of her job, by a government which reacted without all the facts, leaving Shirley no choice, but to resign on the side of the road, through her Blackberry. Wow. No one has illustrated her plight more poignantly than Glen Beck on Fox News. Yes, Fox News journalists can do the right thing. I’ve never been a fan of Glen Beck, but I am proud of him for telling all of Shirley’s story.

So, here are two unrelated cases, Shirley’s and mine, where the power of the government meets the helplessness of the individual, and serves only itself. My humiliation is very small, while hers is very large, yet they are related when Government overcomes the rights of the individual, simply because they can. As an American, I ask you, what have we become?

The blogger, who released two lines of a speech, without investigating. Who didn’t bother to at least go to YouTube, in search of the whole story – was wrong. I say again, he was wrong. He justified his actions, by explaining away the agony that he was a part of. So, I ask, as human beings, what have we become?

Are we a nation of gossips? Do we accuse and refuse to seek the truth? Are we those whom the Bible speaks of, who have ears, yet refuse to hear? Or do we have eyes to see, yet we refuse to see? Have we become a country divided? Have we thrown away the grace of compassion or fairness? Truth is not truth, when we are satisfied with only half of it. If we believe in a just, as well as a merciful God, then we must – I repeat – we must seek the truth. We will stand before Him, and it will not matter our party affiliation. We will stand before Him whether we believe in Him or not. And if we are believers, and we are asked by Him, how did you spend your time on earth? How much, of the gifts I have given you, have you shared? What then?

I am fatigued by the climate of blame, in our government. I am sick of the corruption. I am sick of the incompetence and the constant finger pointing. I am a conservative; however, as a Christian believer, I must follow the teachings of Paul the Apostle, that we must practice moderation in all things. In all things. So, I will do my best to live by the teachings of Christ – to love others, to reach out with compassion, to forgive, even if I cannot trust, and above all to allow my life to reflect the Savior whom I serve. I fail. All the time. And I failed today.

Father in heaven, I know that I am inadequate in the message I try to give. I pray that You will accept these words by the intentions of my heart, even though I know how insufficient they are. May I live by your word. May I judge others only as I pray that You will judge me. I ask your forgiveness for my impetuous vanity, when I do not know the facts. Lord, please lead me on the paths of righteousness and grant me the grace to follow You.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

God Doesn't Sleep by Jaye Lewis

2010-06-29T09:02:00.009-05:00

Hello friends,

It seems like forever since I’ve written. First, I had an asthma attack, and at sixty-four I don’t have the ability to shake things off so easily, it was really bad. It was my fifth attack since the arrival of the H1N1 virus, last year, which hit us with a vengeance. Was it really just a year ago? I can’t believe it. It seemed like it would never end. Well, we survived, praise God. Only by His grace. I’m better now, able to eat healthfully and bike at least two miles a day, sometimes three to five.

This spring, however, we’ve had other difficulties. Many of us, across the U.S., have had rain, rain, rain. We have fared better, than people in flash flood areas, although we’ve had our share of anxiety, as the river and streams rose to flood stage. Most of us in the higher elevations of Virginia have been blessed with no flooding or rock slides. However, up the road, at the top of our ridge, there’s been some clear cutting. So, we’re beginning to rethink that whole “flood insurance” and rock slide insurance. We don’t want to be insurance poor, but we want to protect our family and our home.

The Blue Ridge Mountains are a beautiful green, atop a granite and sandstone base. It must have been a popular place for Paleo-Indian to hang out, because most people I know can turn over artifacts, simply by putting a shovel in the ground. It can be very exciting, just to peer through the grass and hope. I’m a rock hound. I cannot throw away a rock that looks remotely interesting. Usually I find that I’ve “ooohed and ahhhhhhhhed” over a “road rock,” basically granite. We have occasional rock slides, where the ground has been cut away for a road, but we have been blessed with few casualties. God bless the rescue teams all across this land. They are the unsung heroes. And common citizens have also risked their lives to save others.

I, presently, am laid up with plantar fasciitis, which is an inflammation in the tendon on the arch of my foot, which has made it unbearable to walk, or do my favorite chores. Both my daughters have been afflicted with injuries, too. My youngest daughter twisted her ankle, then fell down the stairs, so she’s on crutches. while my oldest suddenly flared up with two herniated discs. We have all been experiencing excruciating pain. So, in my beautiful garden, tall weeds have taken over, and my house…well, let’s not mention the floors, the laundry, and the dishes.

So what do we do? We are a close family, and we work together. We do what we can, and when we can’t, then we wait until we can again. We love God, and we each have a personal relationship with Him, as well as family worship. God knows us, and He loves us. He’s shown us this in the protected region where we live. He’s shown us in the relationships we have with Him and one another. He’s shown us in great ways and in small. Yet, still he allows us to suffer and fail. Why?

Is it because He is an unjust God? Does He no longer love us? Does He like watching us suffer? Or does He not exist at all? All of these accusations have been thrown in my face from time to time. However they are all lies. Not only do I know that God is just, but I have seen His mercy in my own life, and in my family’s. I know that it pains Him when I suffer; that He comforts me in my sorrow, and He has proven to me time after time, just how much He loves me. But most of all, I confess, GOD IS REAL!! So, we can’t see Him. He lives! The evidence is all around us. No accident gave us the beauty of this land. He loves us, all of us, and He is as close to each of us as is our next heartbeat.

I’m always amazed when a self-professed atheist goes on the attack. There is no God. There is no proof. Prove it. All this and more he accuses. Okay, here is my argument.

Tell me, what is gravity? Can you see it? Can you touch it? Are you willing to accept that gravity cannot be seen? That one can only know it is there, by observing it’s effects? So it is with God.

He is alive and with us, even though we can’t prove it by sight or touch, but we can see his effects. Can you have a relationship with gravity? I doubt it, nor would you want to; however, a relationship with God is constant, growing from grace to grace. He is with you in ways that gravity fails. I don’t know why He is not irresistible to everyone. He is warm and wonderful, and He fills my heart with His love, which I accept with all my heart. God fills me with love for others, even when, and perhaps, because they are different than I.

So, argue away, atheist. Believe in nothing, and when you die, quite frankly, you will receive a reward equal to your beliefs here on earth. I am quite certain that the only thing that you can take with you when you die, are the things you have given to others while you were here on earth: your service, your love, your forgiveness, your time, your energy, your encouragement – all the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Jesus said that even a cup of water to a thirsty soul, is more important than all the gold in the temple. A cup of water. Blessing one another. Respecting His earth, without being ridiculous. There are so many things that I could mention, but each of us must investigate with our own hearts. I Corinthians 13 Chapter is a good place to start.

I’ve thought a lot about the oil spill in the Gulf, I have shed many tears. It is a horror beyond imagining. My heart and my prayers go out to the people in the Gulf, many who have lived there all their lives. Many families go back hundreds of years. Why has this happened, aside from human error? I don’t know. It’s certainly not an Act of God, nor do I lay the blame on those who make their living in the Gulf. Perhaps there was greed. Was the company in a hurry? Were they neglectful regarding safety? Did they disregard the harm they could do? Yes, I believe they were callous, but I also have seen that they are trying to make amends, and, sadly, their efforts may have proven too little, too late.

So it is with all of us thoughtless human beings. We sin. It’s as simple as that. We make excuses, perhaps we repent, but then we sin again. Each person faces his own conscience. Each person to His own God, whether it is a false God or true. I only know that I worship the One, True, Living God, and at His feet I ask forgiveness.

God Doesn’t Sleep

God doesn’t sleep,

I’ve heard it said.

He hears our every cry.

He’s with us through every sorrow

And every last good-bye.

God doesn’t sleep.

His eyes can see

The trace of every tear.

He hears every child’s whisper

That is lisped into His ear.

Once I didn’t know Him,

And, yet, He carried me through

My deepest, darkest valley,

Saying, “Child I’m still with you.”

I’ve heard His voice within my heart,

A caress sent from above,

Saying, “Child, no matter your suffering,

“I command you now to love.”

To love? Where could it come from,

In a life filled with hopeless dreams,

Where hate was my only weapon

To take away the screams?

God made Himself so lovely

That I longed to feel His touch.

How pleasant was my sorrow

With a God who loves so much!

A paradox, I know it is.

How could God fill the dark

And reach inside my terror

To touch my trembling heart?

I don’t know how He did it.

I only know He did.

He opened all my secrets

Where I thought they were safely hid.

He banished all my sadness.

He gave me a life of hope.

He shows me how love triumphs,

When I’m at the end of my rope.

God doesn’t sleep when my eyelids close

In the bleak, uncertain night.

He rocks me in His gentle arms

And turns the dark to light.

I promise you, that God is here

No matter your sorrow or woe.

He’ll open His safe and gentle arms

And give you a place to go.

Run to His arms, He’s waiting.

His arms are big and wide.

He’ll rock you in His certain love

And give you a place to hide.

I should not be here, not at all,

And yet I’m here to say,

That God can take a weary life

And brush the tears away.

Trust His love, no matter what

Life has dealt to you.

He’ll turn your sorrow into joy

Before your journey’s through.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

His Grace is Sufficient by Jaye Lewis

2010-05-07T12:35:00.006-05:00

Hello friends,

It’s two days before Mother’s Day, and I’m spending mine in bed with another asthma attack. I hate these attacks. The feeling of suffocation is overwhelming at times. Since I’m a diabetic, I have to avoid prednisone, and so I’m on another corticosteroid, which usually takes longer, but also helps me control my blood sugar better.

Hospitalization is not on my list of things to do, especially with hourly insulin shots that may or may not work, and which could (improperly applied) bring on coma, insulin shock, or even death. I know, these words seem fatalistic, but that is my other choice. So, I’ll wait this out, be a good girl, and I will get well soon, I’m sure.

I’ve done some thinking about all of this, since my attack began last Thursday. I should NOT have waited until Monday to do a call into my doctor. Earlier treatment might just have nipped this in the bud, a lot sooner. So I have only myself to blame. But still, why this attack? Why did God not simply lift me from this ailment, and deliver me before I even got it? I have the evidence of His intimate caring.

Every day He gives to me. He shows me the sunsets, which He paints across the sky, just for me. And I get it. He shows me the colorful little birds which grace my yard and deck, trustingly knowing they will have water and food. And I get it. He encircles my life with my family, who are filled with sacrificial love, and they see to my every need. I am warm when it is cold outside, and I am cool when it is hot.

Then there are the little ways God gives to me; perhaps they are the biggest of all. I’ve been losing my sight, and it is very difficult at times. When the sun is shining, I can still see my garden, with all the trees that I raised from tiny seedlings. I can see the flowers and the towering maples that graced this yard the day we moved in. It has been a long process, turning this yard into something so breathtaking, yet God has led me on.

Almost daily, I lose things that are right in front of my eyes. When the light is low on a cloudy day, I cannot see the tiny details. So, I look and look, knowing that I’ve just passed each item by. That is when I truly turn to the Lord in trust and expectation.

“Lord,” I pray, “I cannot find this small item, that you know I need. Please lead me to where I may find it. You know I depend upon you.” It is rare for me not to immediately find, a lost prescription pill, that my dogs might eat; or an alcohol wipe so that I may test my sugar. Little things. Necessary things. Often things that might harm someone, even me: a tack or pin or toothpick that could go through my shoe. So many little things. And God takes the time and the care to find them for me. This is the God I worship and love.

So, why am I sitting up in bed, with my hair a mess, and, yet again, with that corticosteroid face beginning to show? Doesn’t God love me in this, too? Doesn’t He want to heal me of this? Doesn’t He want me to find my health, and keep it? I’m sure He does. But that’s not what He told the Apostle Paul.

Paul tells his story like this:

To keep me from becoming conceited because of…surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:7-10

So God has told me today, “Jaye, my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

“But Father, I want to be well and strong. It’s planting time, weeding time, digging up rocks, and transferring worms to other beds, time. I WANT TO BE WELLLL!!”

“Jaye, My grace is sufficient for you .”

“But Father…”

“My power is made perfect in [your] weakness.”

In just a few words, I’ve gone from anger and resentment, to acceptance and willingness. God is helping me find a need that I didn’t know I needed, and certainly didn’t want. But now I understand in my own small way. If I bear this testimony, that I give in my bed, wishing I could be outside and pull those gosh-awful weeds that are taking over my yard…well, His power is made great in my weakness.

For the longest time, in my Christian walk, I didn’t comprehend that illusive meaning of grace. “For it is by grace that we are saved, and not of ourselves,” the Bible tells us. What could this possibly mean? Suddenly one day, while pouring over these verses, the light suddenly dawned. The grace that I sought, had already been given, on a lonely hill called Golgotha, 2000 years ago. I can’t earn it. I can’t buy it. I can’t bribe God or promise Him anything for His great gift of grace. And then for Him to say that His grace is sufficient for me, because His power is made perfect in my weakness…? Tears come to my eyes, and I see so many more things than my eyes can behold.

Shining Star by Jaye Lewis

Shining Star filled with light,

For You, I’ll not give up the fight.

Through fire, cold, or rushing water,

I will be Your faithful daughter.

You are the One Who comes for me,

And pulls me from the raging sea.

You gather me within your arm

And keep me safe from any harm.

Dear Lord, my God, they do not see

The evidence you give to me.

They feel not your fingers brush their hair,

They know you not, yet do not care.

What shall I do? I’m just one voice;

A little one who makes the choice,

That I will serve you all my days,

In unimportant little ways.

Those little ways can change another,

Father, mother, sister, brother,

That all mankind will see in me,

The Shining Star I see in Thee.

Thank you, my friends, for listening today. I needed to write this. I needed to hear it. God’s grace is sufficient for me, just as it is for you.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!

With love, Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

She Stood Alone by Jaye Lewis

2010-03-30T10:50:00.006-05:00

As we come to the week before Easter, we commemorate the crucifixion, death, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. That is my belief, and it is the belief of all true Christians. Without taking away from this sacred tenant of my faith, that I am lost without Him; that He is my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, I tiptoe into another view of that night.

I am no theologian, nor a scholar, nor a traditionalist, nor a Catholic. I aspire to the Evangelical creed that began hundreds of years ago, with the Protestant Reformation. My faith, however, is more compassionate than the originators, but certainly just as passionate.

It is easy, as a Protestant, of any faith, to forget the other “players” in this Divine production: God, Himself, on the Cross, dying so that I might be forgiven, washed by His cleansing blood, alone. But there is one whom we either forget about, or we deify. Both are wrong. She was only a woman; only a mother, and very much alone. This is her story:

She Stood Alone by Jaye Lewis

She stood, alone, with broken heart,

Upon a rocky hill.

The sky was dark, the voices harsh;

Eternity stood still.

She saw His eyes, so full of hurt;

His blood upon her hand;

But, though, He was the Lord of love;

She couldn’t understand.

For wasn’t He just a little boy,

Just a moment before?

Didn’t he cry, when he stumbled and fell,

As she helped him through the door?

Didn’t she wipe away his tears,

And wash away the blood?

Didn’t she lift him safely up,

As he tripped into the mud?

Wasn’t he all the world to her,

Just a baby in her arms?

Cooing and laughing, contentedly,

With all his baby charms?

Didn’t she hold him in the night,

When he ‘woke from terrible dreams?

And didn’t she promise she’d keep him safe,

As she hushed away his screams?

Yet, there she stood, beneath a Cross,

Helpless to ease His pain;

Trusting in God, yet, shuddering so,

As she heard His screams again.

Friendless, alone, abandoned,

Far from His mother’s breast;

A mother’s tears, wet the holy ground,

Where her Son passed His final test.

“It’s FINISHED!” She heard his valiant voice,

As with one, last burst he cried.

His broken body, collapsed on a cross,

She watched as her baby died.

At that moment, the heavens broke,

Redemption had its start;

But the mother remembered tiny hands,

Entwined within her heart.

So, as I await on my own bleak hill,

As my world seems tempest tossed,

I remember a mother, silent and still,

Beneath her “baby’s” Cross.

At the time that I wrote this poem, my own child was very close to death. While sitting on the back deck, looking at the night sky, I had to ask the question that every mother asks. Why? My answer, and my peace, was this poem. In a strange way, with my own motherly fear, I felt connected to another mother, who stood, not at the Cross of the Savior of the World, but beneath the Cross of her baby. Yet, just as she saw her Son restored to her upon His Resurrection, I, also, received back from God, my own child, who was miraculously healed.

Some may call this thought, and this poem, blasphemy, but I call it the compassion of God, who knows and cares about all mothers.

With love, and Happy Easter,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

Leaning On God's Promises By Jaye Lewis

2010-03-15T17:06:00.016-05:00

My hardest job as a person with numerous medical conditions is overcoming my mid-winter blues. Sadness and despondency have haunted me in the last few weeks. It seems like forever since I’ve seen the sun for more than a day. Our climate is changing; that’s obvious, but I don’t think it’s getting warmer. We’ve had three summers in a row, that have been cooler than I ever remember. Last year, it rained all summer, and our garden was trashed so hard, that we now have a greenhouse and garden seedlings in the basement. Winters have been harsh and bitter cold. We can no longer get out into the garden in February, even wearing our warmest snuggies. Digging new beds for spring seems like a distant memory.

Having lived much of my younger days in the deep south, with ocean breezes and sunny days, these winters have been particularly depressing. On top of that, my mobility, due to fibromyalgia and neuropathy, has been marginal, and I fall frequently. So my days of skipping over hills and dales are over, and this, too, makes me sad. Oh, how I long for the sun.

My health has, actually, been pretty good. My asthma has finally come under control. I can now lay down to sleep, instead of nearly sitting up. My diabetes is also under control, due to my Lantus® Insulin, a timed release insulin shot, that I give myself once a day. I can eat normal things without worrying that my blood sugar will shoot up to dangerous levels. This should make me happy, but often I am nearly overcome with sadness.

Probably the hardest thing for me to accept is my lack of normal mobility. I seldom go anywhere, unless I’m taken, and my eyesight is so poor that I would be a danger on the road, to myself and everyone else. So what can I do?

Here we are, you and me – you with your problems, and me with mine. We are much alike. Perhaps you have only a few friends, just like me. It may be for a number of reasons. My reasons for so few friends, is because I can’t do the things that friends do – going here and going there. It’s an old story. “We’d love to have you come along, but…” There is always a “but.” You fill in the blanks.

Each of us, no matter who we are, no matter our position in life, has struggles. Health, whether physical or mental; family, whether loving or hateful; depression, whether temporary, like mine, or enduring like others — all these things, and many more, can be profound burdens, and heavy to bear.

I know of only one way to alleviate my suffering. I throw myself into the arms of the Lord. He is my Savior. He is the healer of my problems. He is the One person who never leaves me. He knows me better than anyone, and He loves me in spite of all the times that I let Him down.

I see myself as a little child, who has slipped into a raging torrent. He comes for me, and He finds me. I’ve been calling, and He’s been coming to solve all that assails me.

“Here I am, Lord. Please take my hand and save me!” Suddenly, I feel His strong hand clasping mine, as He lifts me out of the creek. Sobbing into his shoulder, He wipes away my tears.

“Come, child,” He says. “You are safe with me.” And I am…safe with Him.

Because of You

I walk through this day because of You, Lord.
No personal power of my own gets me out of bed and onto my knees.

You are the One Who gives me the desire to look up,
To open my eyes,
To push myself up off of the floor.
By Your strength, I walk.
By Your grace, I keep going.
When I stumble, You catch me in Your arms,
And when I fall, You carry me.

When I laugh, in the midst of my day,
It is a gift;
For You have shown me the ludicrous
In my situation.

Because of You, when tears come to my eyes,
I know that it is You Who have placed that seed
Of compassion, in my heart, for others.

You are my light,
My strength,
And my shield.

Without you, I have no life;
No peace;
And no joy.

Because of You and Your grace,
And Your love for me,
I take joy in every lovely thing I see.

You hold my breath in Your hand,
nd You own all my ways.
Because of You, I feel no self pity,
And I am thankful beyond words,
Just to be alive!

© Jaye Lewis, 2002

"God who holds [my] breath in His hand and owns all [my] ways." Daniel 5:23 NKJ

"Prayer is weakness leaning on omnipotence." W.S. Bowden

Only God Can Understand by Jaye Lewis

2010-02-12T15:19:00.004-05:00

Only God can understand
The loneliness I feel,
When friendship turns to ashes
And nothing else seems real.

Only God can understand
Every yearning in my soul.
Only God can understand
How to make my spirit whole.

When I cry myself to sleep
Only He can see my tears.
Then I reach out with my heart,
And he banishes my fears.

Only He knows who I am;
Only He knows where I’ve been.
When I stand outside the gate
Then His love invites me in.

Only God can understand
Just how much I long to be
Strong and worthy in His eyes
In a way that I can see.

I cannot see myself
Through another person’s eyes;
For I am neither weak,
Nor am I strong and wise.

Neither view is truly me,
As I face my darkest day,
Begging God to make me well,
And take my pain away.

Only God can understand
The times I’ve given up.
Angry tears came bursting forth,
As I drank each bitter cup.

Only God can see beyond
My rebellious, childish ways.
Only He can take my nights
And turn them into days.

Only God can understand
My desperate whispered prayer.
Only He can touch my heart,
Telling me He’s truly there.

Do I run or do I stay?
That’s the paradox I face,
As I tremble on my knees,
When I now accept His grace.

Only God is with me still
Deep within my healing heart;
May I abide within His Love;
May I nevermore depart.

© Jaye Lewis, February 9, 2010

Celebrate Life by Jaye Lewis

2010-02-03T16:02:00.002-05:00

We’ve lived in our Virginia home for twelve years. It was our dream home when we retired from the Navy, and it still is. It’s cool in summer, and it’s warm in winter. From my deck I can see the mountains all around me. And the sunsets are a glorious celebration of what this world can be. In hushed wonder, I watch the sky turn from rose, to gold, and red. One evening I even caught the images of the heavens on fire. Even the birds were quiet, as though they too were moved by God’s gift to each of us.

Every morning of my life is another celebration of movement and color, as birds from all around flock to my deck for safety, water, and food. Each creature, from the most drab to the most colorful, fills my day with such joy. Even the starlings, who gobble up the suet with glutinous glee, have a place in my heart. In mid-winter, they move themselves in, along with all their relatives, and hog the feeders until the following spring. As soon as the earth begins to warm, they poke their beaks greedily into the earth to eradicate every grub they can find. Because of their ingenuity, army worms no longer march, and web worms build their webs, and suddenly spin no more. This gardener is grateful for the assistance of these unlovely birds.

While most birds shed their colorful feathers, and put on a dull winter coat, so that they are less noticeable against the snow, the cardinal stands out in a brilliant Christmas red. No wonder they are celebrated on clothing, artwork, and greeting cards all season long. After twelve years of certainty that the restaurant is always open at our house, we’ve seen descendants of every bird species gather on our deck. We’ve cared for early and late nestlings, providing every kind of food they need. Even the hummingbirds come here to drink their fill at our nectar rich feeders, all summer long. Birders who study these things tell us that hummingbirds return year after year to the same garden, and often to the same branch of the tree on which they were hatched.

Each spring, my garden reflects the beauty of the sky and birds. Each flower arrays itself in brilliant color. I’m amazed that anyone can see such magnificence and believe that all these gifts are merely an accident. No God, they say, could provide such beauty, nor would He. And I say, they are liars, because the person who beholds such heart and soul, without feeling, must have no soul at all. And it is then that I think, perhaps their ancestors did, after all, climb out of a primordial goop. But mine were created and placed in a garden, where the Creator of the Universe breathed within them, the breath of life.

So, I will celebrate my life, in shades of red, and green, and blue, and gold. I will be thankful for each feather and flower and sunset – a cacophony of sight and sound, sent by God, so that I may fill my life with pure joy.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.entertainingangelsencouragingwords.blogspot.com
www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com www.jayelewisliliesofthefield.blogspot.com

The Golden Door by Jaye Lewis

2010-01-15T13:50:00.003-05:00

Hello friends,

Yesterday I had the honor of being published on Heartwarmers, the original online community of writers and readers on the web. I received some lovely responses to my story, many that truly touched my heart. Until this morning.

My story is basically about my trip to Miami, Florida, years ago, when I was a finalist in the Pillsbury Bake-off. It was thrilling, and I did win one of the prizes. However my greatest gift was the joyful response I received from the Cuban waiters, laundresses, and room cleaners. The only thing I did was speak to them with my rusty high school Spanish, out of respect for their struggles with our language, in their new country.

Well, this morning I received an email, in which a woman told me how un-American I was, since those people should have spoken English, not Spanish. Then she told me that she frequently went to France, where she did NOT speak English. She always TRIED to speak French, because she was in THEIR country! Then she told me that I was a disgrace to this country and a traitor, because I had betrayed those who died to make us free.

I gathered from her email, and her language, that I should have been just as rude and unfeeling as those who sat around me, ignoring the Cuban servers, as though they didn’t exist. So, this thought got me to wondering. Is this woman a Christian? Does she believe in anything, other than her own hatred?

Let’s suppose she is a Christian who warms a bench on Sunday morning. If she is, my guess is that she has heard of Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan. Does the parable make it clear that the Samaritan shook the injured man out of his stupor, then asked him, “can you speak Samaritan?” Did he walk away, because the man wasn’t one of his people? No. As Jesus said, the Samaritan was filled with compassion for the man, neither caring who nor what he was, but merely having mercy upon his plight. Then Jesus said, to all of us, “Go, and do likewise.”

Maybe she does not have faith in anything or anyone, except for her zeal for her country. Maybe her allegiance is grounded in the flag and her unfortunate view of those who take refuge in this country. I wonder if she has forgotten, or ever read, the words of Emma Lazarus’ immortal poem, which is written on a plaque at the base of our Statue of Liberty:

"Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

That is the spirit of America. That is the spirit of the parable of the Good Samaritan. And so, in my limited way, with compassion in my heart for a legal immigrant, remembering that I, too, am the descendent of immigrants, I haltingly spoke the language of their childhood, to make them feel welcome. That is my sin. That is my shame. How horrible.

How does she know the Cubans did not know our language? If she can learn French, speaking another language, instead of English on American soil, then why can’t I or they? If I have learned anything in my life, I have learned this: that she, with a stone for a heart, wrote words in her email, that speak more about her, than they speak about me.

Did it hurt me, that she called me a traitor? Of course it did. I have ancestors that fought in the Revolutionary War for Independence. I have an ancestor who fought in the Civil War and was wounded at the Battle of Antietam. An elderly uncle of mine fought in the First World War. My father and uncles and cousins fought in the Korean War and World War II. I am a veteran of the Vietnam War. I proudly served in the United States Navy. My husband is a U.S. Navy Chief Petty Officer, retired. We have all served our country, honorably. So, when this lady calls someone a traitor, maybe she should learn more about whom she dishonors with her words.

Does she resent the aid given to Haiti? Does she resent the outpouring of the American spirit, so generously given, that phone lines, web sites, phone texting, and every other legitimate form of giving was in a log jam, because Americans would not hesitate to give with their hearts and their pocket books? People who do not have, gave. People who are afraid they will lose all they have, gave. And those of us who have been blessed with abundance, gave.

I’m proud to be an American. I’m proud to stand with those who served, and who serve now, in the U.S. Military, so that everything we love can remain free. In spite of that, I am profoundly aware that the full spirit of America is the compassionate outpouring of generosity from all of us, which has always been the heart and soul of America. That spirit is the power which lifts the Lady’s Lamp above the Golden Door.

God bless you, and thank you all.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com
www.jayelewisliliesofthefield.blogspot.com

In God's Eyes by Jaye Lewis

2010-01-14T12:34:00.003-05:00

God is so big. No one escapes His notice. Not the poorest of the poor. Nor the richest of the rich. Not those in power. Not those with no power. He is in the darkest dungeons. He is in the chambers of death. He is on the battle field, and in the hospitals where the wounded are often pitifully cared for. He weeps over the graves of the fallen, and He never forgets the evil-doer. God cannot abide those who whisper secrets that only He can hear. Those who plot. Those who plan. Everyone is within His sight.

God loves the humble, and He despises the proud. He comforts the broken-hearted. He’s not as interested in confession, as He is moved by the one who hates his own sin. What must He think of the one who boasts of His sin? I would not want to be in that person’s shoes on the day of judgment. I think, maybe, God is displeased with many organized religions of today, no matter their creed. Instead of arrogance behind closed doors, God wants the human heart that is open to Him.

Jesus said, “A time is coming, and has already come, when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth.” I hope that I stand among them. I love God. I’ve loved Him my entire life. I’m not talking about something unseemly. I am talking about being so lit on fire, that it can be read in my eyes and goes straight into my heart. Passionate love requires nothing of another. It simply is.

I see God in everything. In the sunrise and sunset. In the brilliant colors of the birds who crowd my feeders. In the look of trust that I see in my little dogs’ eyes. I can hear God’s pleasure in the purring of my little cat, who knows I will not sleep until I know that she is comfortable. I see God in my husband’s eyes, which light up in a special way that he has only for me. I see Him in the devotion of my daughters, who take care of me, as I used to take care of them.

God’s eyes watch over me and my family. He watches over the little birds that I care for. My pets are under His watchful care. And, my friends, He has His eyes on you. He knows your heart, your thoughts and your dreams, and He cares. He listens to your prayers, and you do pray, even if you do not acknowledge Him.

Have you ever known a contented atheist? Have you ever seen their contented smiles? Me neither, and I have known many. They can’t stop talking about God. They say He doesn’t exist, yet I can see the hatred in their eyes. How is it that someone can hate what they do not believe in? That’s a puzzle to me. I feel sorry for them.

God’s eyes look upon me, and I can feel His love. When I sin, I can feel His hurt. It breaks my heart, when I break His. He thinks I’m funny. I’m quite certain that He laughs at my sense of the ludicrous. I think He created that in me quite deliberately. Certainly Jesus loved a play on words. Didn’t He say, don’t start picking the speck out of your neighbor’s eye, until you’ve removed the board from your own? Now that’s ludicrous!

I love God’s heart. I can imagine the time He took with creation. He saw that it was good. St. Paul said that all creation awaits the coming of Jesus, and the regeneration of all things. The little birds, my pets, and all growing things, are all innocent of sin. They are in bondage for our sins. This little dog, who lies at my feet, is innocent, more than I could possibly be.

So, now you know, with all my faults and imperfections, I have a heart for God. He fills my universe. When I look at any living thing, I see His work, and I see the love in His eyes. He is my first love. He has filled my life with so much love. My husband. My children. My pets. And all things beautiful, that only He could make. God’s eyes. They are beautiful. And in His eyes, so are we.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com
www.jayelewisliliesofthefield.blogspot.com

Searching for Miracles by Jaye Lewis

2009-12-30T13:31:00.003-05:00

Before God spoke the universe into existence He knew my name.

Before He created the atmosphere He held me in His heart.

Before He created the oceans, the land, the plants and creeping things He chose the color of my hair.

Before He created the animals and before He created the first man He loved me.

He placed within Adam’s body all of the DNA of every human being who would ever walk the earth, and within him he placed the color of my eyes.

Before He knit me together within my mother’s womb he cherished the sound of my laugh.

Before I shed my first tear he felt my pain.

Before my sin, my sorrow, and my stubborn disobedience, he chose to carry them to the Cross. He hung there His blood pouring out…for me.

Why he chose to do this I cannot comprehend. God wanted me to be his own child. How can that be? With all of my flaws and character defects He wanted me to believe in Him, and He gave me the grace to believe in myself.

God loves me with a fire that can never be quenched. I am special to him, even if I am not special to anyone else, including myself.

I have tried to perfect myself, and I have failed.

I have tried to believe the world’s message, but I have found no answers.

I have followed the paths forged by others only to find disaster at every bend in the road.

Only God has given me the answers that I have sought. Peace. Love. Fulfillment.

The change in my life is not a complicated one.

It’s not about how good I am or how I pray or how often I go to church. It’s not about money or fame or popularity.

I cannot speak for others. They must decide for themselves.

I only know that the world has given me no happiness.

After searching my entire life, I have only been able to find the answers to my questions, on my knees at the foot of the Cross.

© Jaye Lewis, 2003

Encouraging Words for the New Year by Jaye Lewis

2009-12-29T12:22:00.005-05:00

Hello friends,

I’ve been writing my Encouraging Words blog for nearly three years. I just checked today, and I’ll tell you, it surprised me. Has it really been that long? You’ve gone through a lot with me, and you have changed me. Because of you, little by little, I have begun to understand exactly what it means to give someone encouraging words. Because of you, I now understand that by using words of kindness and forgetting about myself, I am able to uplift and support. You have given that to me. But sometimes I just don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to say it. I try to reach out, yet, my reach is short, and I falter…even fail.

Jesus said, don’t worry about what you will say. The Holy Spirit will give you the right words to say. It is easier to believe that, than to practice it. I often feel inadequate, and the words just do not come. How can I let you down? How can I let God down. What do I do when the heavens seem silent? These are the things that are on my heart today.

We are between Christmas and New Years, either the most joyful or depressing time of the year, depending on the life you live. I can remember what it was like to be under the power of unrighteous human beings. I come from a strange and disturbing family. One never knows what will set them off. It’s impossible to measure the truth of their words, since all of their opinions are tinged with fabrication. I grew up in that atmosphere, and I did not fully escape until I was in my thirties, and my husband came to my rescue.

My husband. Kind. Righteous. Strong. Watchful. And protective. Oh how wonderful it is to hide from evil in his arms. I know I’m blessed by God with this good man. But what about those who do not have someone in their lives? What about those who have chosen to be single? Yes, that is a life-choice, even in this day and age. Well, what about them?

My friends, when I had no human comfort, and I had little girls to protect and defend, I still was not alone. There was God – and still is – and He was my defender in all things. It was within the feathers of His wings that I found my hiding place. Deep in His shadow, I knew I would remain safe. And it was He who gave me the strength to leave my situation, and He continued to defend and protect me, when I was a single mother. I could feel His presence deep into the night. Like a soft, summer breeze was His touch, to me.

So, knowing that words of encouragement come not from the mouth, but from the heart, I stumble. I do my best to listen to the Holy Spirit, and to speak the truth. I understand the needs that others have at this time of the year. I hope to speak to those needs. I understand the loneliness that this season can bring. I believe that God’s commission for me is to be as honest as I can, as clear as I can, as loving and as kind as I can. Lord knows I fail at this, but I’m trying.

Fear not! Scripture tells us. God is not only watching, but He is holding each of us in His arms. He tells us in Isaiah 49:15b,16a “Yet, will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven (written, carved, inscribed) you on the palms of my hands.”(KJV) Wow! He has written me upon the palms of His hands. I am permanently carved in his hands. God cannot stop thinking of me; nor will He throw me away, because I belong to Him.

So, my friends, I hope your Christmas was happy, and I pray that your New Year is filled with hope and possibilities. May you look for those unexpected blessings that we often overlook. Look on the New Year as a new beginning. The old year is past, and all things will be new again.

Lord, Father, this is the time of the year when much seems hopeless. What have we all accomplished? How have we let You and each other down? Help us to see and believe that heaven is not silent, and help us, oh Lord, to joyfully place our hand in Yours and, together, travel the road ahead.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.jayelewisdiabetesdiary.blogspot.com
www.jayelewisliliesofthefield.blogspot.com

The Gift of Life by Jaye Lewis

2009-12-01T12:54:00.003-05:00

One of the most difficult aspects of being a senior diabetic is stabilizing my diabetes. I can’t help but ask myself, which combination of medicines will maintain equilibrium, to help me control my glucose. Which combination will make me sicker, as Byetta did, especially with that whole vomit factor? It’s a delicate balance. I remain very aware that not all my medicines were especially made to go together.

For instance, I have high blood pressure, so I’m on a very effective blood pressure medication, Benecar HCT 40-12.5. This drug, which lowers my blood pressure, includes a mild diuretic that also reduces water weight gain, creating a delicate balance in my system. The down side is that I must intake more salt than I find palatable. This stimulates thirst, and thirst for a diabetic is an unpleasant experience.

Another question I have is which medicine, or combination, destroyed my sense of smell? And my sense of taste is fading also. I miss tasting food. A lot. I miss the smell. And I really miss the anticipation before I take that first bite.

I’m also on Coreg CR, a time-release beta blocker, which controls my heart arrhythmia problem, caused by my asthma drugs. My diabetes drugs are Januvia in the morning with breakfast, and Glumetza in the evening with supper. This does a pretty good job of control, while still allowing me enough blood sugar to get on my treadmill and walk for a mile, without feeling faint.

Coreg and Benecar, together, can be a great blessing. My blood pressure goes down to the level I was at in high school, and my heart-rate remains constant. But there can be a downside. If I do not take in enough salt, my blood pressure can plunge to dangerously low levels. I can faint, get dizzy, groggy, and even fall asleep. The sleep episodes can feel like dying, and if my blood pressure is extremely low, well, only God knows. Very scary.

All of these medications, and a myriad of other drugs, are necessary gifts of life to me. Not only do they promise me a longer life, but they also give me quality of life. I can exercise, work at my favorite chores, particularly gardening – all of the activities that make up my humanity. In the house, I can praise God as I precariously carry a load of towels down to the laundry. I can gaze out the window, at my beautiful mountains, as I wash another plate from breakfast.

I can run on our back deck, with our little dogs. I can play with them without tiring. I can pull weeds from my garden, rake the fallen leaves, and truly put my garden to bed. With my medications and my heart and mind in balance, I can find joy in each new day.

So, in each life, there must be made room for balance. Tears and laughter, clamor and silence, beauty and the commonplace, a walk in the fresh air and reading by a cozy fire ― all these things need balance or life can be unbearable. I have lived an unbearable life, before God gave me this one. I know what it is like to stare into nothingness and believe my life was not worth living. I’m so glad I did not choose that final answer that is so prevalent at this time of year, especially for the chronically ill.

Oh, how I remember, one particular time, when ending my life seemed my only answer. I sat on a kitchen chair, by the phone, alone. I had just called a Catholic priest, a Methodist minister, and some other cleric of another faith. Each was busy. Very busy. Could I please hurry up? Give them the short version? Moving right along. I finally hung up, and I sat in that chair, watching the stairs which led up to my bedroom.

In my hand I clutched a bottle of pills. It wouldn’t take much to swallow them. Just a glass of water. Lying down, it wouldn’t take long. Then I could drift off to sleep. It didn’t matter that I was a woman of faith. It didn’t matter that I had a child who needed me. It didn’t matter that I knew that suicide was spitting in the face of God. I was at the end of my rope, and I and my problems were the most important things in my life.

Pulling the glass of water closer, I began to unscrew the cap on the bottle of pills. Then, something extraordinary took place. I don’t know if it really happened, or if it was a dream. I don’t know if I had a vision, or if I saw only in my minds eye. I only know that it was God given.

Looking at the stairs, ready to take my own life, I suddenly saw my mother moving from the kitchen to the bottom step. Her face looked like sunlight, and on her lips was a smile. She was humming, and all at once a little laugh-bubble burst forth. She was happy. Then, I saw her climb the stairs, heading straight for my room. When she entered my room, playful mischief lit up her features. Inexplicably, I saw myself lying on my bed, an empty bottle laying open on the floor.

I could see my mother’s features change, as she tickled my toes. She could feel they were very cold. Then she felt my arm, then my face. She leaned down, laying her head upon my chest, then checking my pulse, as the full realization dawned upon her features. Her little girl was dead by her own hand.

I could hear her screaming and screaming. Then racking sobs were torn from some place deep within. Sorrow. A sense of helplessness. Questions. What had she done to cause this? How had she failed me? As I lived this hopelessness and felt my mother’s anguish, I lay my face upon the table, in the palms of my hands. I could not do it. I could not bear the thought of her grief and horror.

I immediately got up from my chair. Shaking the bottle of pills and looking at it for the last time, I walked into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and I placed the pills inside. As I closed the cabinet door, I heard the back door slam. My mother had been outside all along. Chills crept up my spine and into my scalp. What had just happened?

“Come out!” my mother called. “There are birds to see and sunshine to feel. Winter is over, and spring is finally here!” I could hear the joy in her voice, a rare delight.

“In a minute, Mom!” I cried. “I’m coming right now.”

My eyes traveled heavenward, and I gave a grateful sigh, for the dream or vision or wild imagination that I had just been given. I could now deal with my mother’s depression, and I could deal with mine. Perhaps I could even be a blessing to her from time to time. As I hurried out to join my mother in her celebration of spring, I thanked God, in my heart, for the realization that I finally understood. Life itself was precious, even mine.

Forty years later, I still cannot say what happened that day. I remember the moments as they happened. I see them clearly, and I believe that God sent that event, strange though it was, for a purpose beyond what I can understand. Perhaps He sent it, so that I might now tell this story to you, to give you hope that He holds your future in the palm of His hand.

Father in heaven, grant us the grace, no matter our situation, to understand that life is your precious gift to us. Help us to celebrate each of our lives, to look for and find the miracles in the day to day. Help us to understand that we have choices. We can reach out of our own suffering and look for those chances to help others, in circumstances more troubling than our own. Perhaps we’ll see the child angels on countless Christmas trees, across our land, who have childhood needs that we can fulfill. Perhaps as we take the microscope off of our own trivialities, we will see the opportunities offered to bring joy to others. For this we pray, this season, and always.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
www.jayelewisliliesofthefield.blogspot.com