A Time for Uncertainty

Hello friends,

My bank card worked today. I held my breath. I reminded myself that the money is there, and I can depend on the FDIC, but I held my breath. These are uncertain times. They're unfair, and they shouldn't have happened, but they did. I think some of us were holding our breath all along. At least I was. Things could not have gone on, like a wild west stampede. With people hiding the truth from their own hearts, and denying the obvious.

We're not the only people who have watched their 401K shrink. We finally moved everything over to bonds. Pray that they don't fail. We're not rich, but we're not poor either, and we've been truly blessed with one another.

I knew that the economy was in trouble when the first "payday cash" places started springing up. They're the people who "hold" your personal check and give you cash, until payday. They're leeches, preying on the poor. I hate them. Oh God, what can I say? Many lives this day are windswept, just like that naked tree in the photo. I'm so sorry.

I wrote a poem seven years ago, about a time of great uncertainty, in my life. Those were dark days for me, just as this day may be dark for you. I promise you that there is One who knows and understands our hearts, even in the midst of shadow. He is the only One whom I can see will carry us through. I wish I could give you more than this.

The Journey

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 look into my loved ones' eyes,
And I, begin to realize;
That, through the dark and, tortured climb,
God has 'been there' all the time!

© Jaye Lewis, 2001

With love,
Jaye Lewis
http://www.entertainingangels.org/

A Time for Peace

Hello friends,

I'm probably the last person who has any right to urge each of us to keep calm (I'm usually the first one to panic). When faced with some new technology, like a laptop or a camera, I'm usually dragged kicking and screaming. I hate Mp3 players, even though I use one when I'm on my treadmill. I'm a side-seat driver on the Interstate, and I have been known to sit on the floor in the back seat, so that I can only hear, not see the trucks go by. I hate people messing with my medicine, especially insurance companies, government agencies, and the substitute Pharmacist.

So, peace is a concept that I am still defining. I know what it's like to hold my puppies and get kisses all over my face. My blood pressure goes down, and I feel relaxed. I know what it feels like to pile on our bed, just our family of people and dogs, and watch our favorite movies and TV shows on DVDs, without commercials. Also relaxing, but that is not peace.

Turmoil. Wow. I practice for that. I'm an expert. I especially go wild when I try to get a hold of my credit card customer service department. You know, the people who used to be from different areas of the U.S. People who speak English. Yesterday, I received a call about my JCPenney card. Someone in very broken English, with an unmistakable Indian accent, attempted to tell me my problem. After twenty minutes of unintelligible conversation, which began to accelerate, I asked why JCPenney was now outsourcing. After a few curses on her part, she screamed at me "JCPenney does NOT outsource!" Then she hung up.

I, then, called JCPenney's customer service number. After taking 15 minutes suggesting I press this, that, and the other number, the automated teller threw me out of the system. Then I did the obviously stupid. I called another number, which was answered by a human being, with, of course, a thick Indian accent.

"Okay, Sir, my first question is this. Why is JCPenney outsourcing it's call center to India?"

"I-am-not-from-India!" He replied in a pronounced Indian accent.

"Oh really." I said. "Then where are you now?"

"Oh-I'm-from-Ohio!" He insisted.

Yeah. Yeah. So, I did some heavy Google searching, and I discovered who is actually hiring these people. They are hired much like day laborers. A call goes out for one position, and maybe a thousand Indians show up to apply. People waiting for these low tech jobs are desperate. They have a script, which they must not deviate from. That's why we never know what they are talking about, much less do they know anything about our country.

I've been insulted, threatened (which is against our laws, which, by the way, they know nothing about). So, that's where the jobs have gone, and that's part of why our country is in a terrible mess. A long list of accumulated idiocy, by our leaders, now has all of us crippled, including we in middle America. We also have 401K's, insurance, bank loans, mortgages, and college loan payments. We've been stretched like rubber bands, and we must not snap.

Strangely enough, I have, in this crisis, more peace than I could imagine. Yes, I have a husband who understands our finances, and a daughter who organizes budgets like a whiz machine. We are all contributing. Even me, with my small pension. And I'm keeping my eye on the news. I do see some panic, but strangely, I feel a peace that passes all my understanding. That peace is knowing that God, not only, is in charge, but that He will, as He always has, set our feet upon His solid path.

The picture above, is of a peaceful garden. My peaceful garden. It took years to grow out of nothing, and the little path was created by my daughter, Jenny, from bits of rock that we collected after our yard was blown up. Long story that I will share at another time. So, we decided for our peaceful garden, to use what was broken to create something beautiful. Perhaps our country can, also.

Without having any financial answers, I am certain, especially at this time, that God is in control; that He has a plan; and His plan is to bless us, and not discourage us. We do have a future!

So, now, I urge you to find that place of peace, in a garden, on a terrace, in a room by yourself, or wherever your private place is. Hold your children in your arms. Love on your pets. Take a deep breath, and let the air out slowly. You have a future, and so do I. I will be praying, not for myself, but for you. With all my heart, I know that God has hope for your future. He holds you in the palm of His hand.

Father in heaven, in a round about way, I have tried to illustrate that peace comes from within. Stumbling in my faith, I have tried to share the Hope that you give. Please let everyone believe that long before the universe exploded into history, You knew their name, and You still do. Forgive me, Lord, if I have failed you, and most of all, forgive me if I have failed those who follow this blog. Thank you, Lord, for a hope and a future, but most of all, thank You for peace in my heart.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

A Time to Serve

Hello friends,

The picture at the left has never been shared, not in the nearly eight years that I have been writing on the web. This was taken during another unpopular war, and I had decided to serve.

The reasons that a person serves, in time of war, are legion, and the incentives, especially in this one, are tempting. Some of the incentives that our government offers are: enlistment bonuses, re-enlistment bonuses, education, life insurance premiums for their family, if the worst should happen. Finally, the most powerful incentive for enlistment is the desire to serve one's country.

My desire, at the height of the Vietnam War, was simply to serve my country and to assist the soldiers and families traveling through San Francisco Airport. I believed that I was given a sacred trust to make their paths less crooked. I was faithful to my pledge, and I've never regretted my time served.

Looking at that picture, it is difficult not to notice just how young I was. At the time, at almost 21, I felt mature indeed. But the truth of the matter was that I was a babe in the woods, filled with the love of my country, and frankly, I would have taken a bullet to save the Flag that I served.

War is seldom the wisest course. Diplomacy, from a position of strength, must be exhausted first. Otherwise, the young men who crossed through my desk, would have spilled their blood for someone else's glory. Glory is never a reason to start a war.

After diplomacy, our leaders must use wisdom, and wisdom dictates that a war that is entered into rashly, will only come back and strike us. The Bible is certainly clear about this.

But, I was not making the decisions for government in 1967, and I'm not now. So, in case you don't understand why we served then, and why others have served, and still serve, now, I will tell you.

A father serves to protect his family from possible harm; a mother serves, so that she can keep her children safe. And there are many other reasons one serves. None serve for the money. Trust me. I was in the military, and I was a military wife. We didn't do it for the money.

For each soldier there are personal reasons to serve, but what is in their hearts, for the most part, is a connection to every soldier who ever fought for his or her country. And, now they are serving for them, for their family, for themselves and one another. The valiant. The protector. The bearer of the torch. All these reasons and more are why we served, and why they still serve.

So, when you see a Soldier, an Airman, a Seaman, a Marine, or anyone else who serves, with your heart in your throat, go up to them and simply say "thank-you," because he or she serves, so that your children don't have to.

War. I hate it. I hate those who sign the proclamation, as though no one will have to pay the price. Certainly not their children! I hate the ones who start keeping a tally on just how much they will make on their war products. I hate the "glory speeches," because they don't speak of the lives lost, and the maimed who will have to go on, while wondering why.

So, now you know. I served. I gave my best. I was a United States Navy WAVE, during the Vietnam War. And history has forgotten me, as so many of the sacrifices made today will be forgotten.

My ultimate belief is that God keeps short accounts. He exposes the lies, and he punishes those who have caused His "little ones to stumble." That is what I comfort myself with in the night. His comfort. His forgiveness. His understanding. His kindness and love.

Thank you, Father, that we have You to cling to. Thank You for keeping us in the shadow of your wings. Lord, we know that we can trust you to expose the lie, and make truth triumphant. These are the things for which I pray.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

A Time to Sift

Hello friends,

Have you ever noticed that there are times one must stop, look at their lives, and take stock of where they are putting their energies. My energies, as with many others, are expended with the ones, and the things, that I love. My family, my dogs, my garden, and my God. Now, what's wrong with that sentence? Seems okay, but looking closely, my relationship with God came last. That's not where my heart is supposed to be. It's not even where I wish to be. So, now, I must sift all the important things in my life, not into the right order, but into the right Spirit.

I've tried living up to the world, and I have to tell you, there's not much out there that changes hearts. The only heart-changer in my life has been God. He must come first, or nothing else has any meaning.

The next most important thing, in my life, is my husband and our personal relationship. Am I jeopardizing it through self-centered ways, pride, self-pity, or unexpressed anger? Louie has taught me how to love without taking; how to receive with a joyful heart; and how to forgive without withholding. These are not lessons that the world teaches.

Then come my daughters: beautiful souls; lovely faces; voices of kindness; and nurturing hearts. These illuminating lights of God's grace have given me devotion that fills me with wonder. It is impossible for me not to marvel at their generosity of spirit.

Now, come my dogs: my big-hearted, stubborn, whale of a dog, more sensitive than his size suggests. He's been known to creep under my feet, and when I lose my balance and stagger near him, he leaps up screaming. This further insures full body contact, that sends me reeling, as Jessie streaks over to his safe spot. It can take days to heal his timid heart.

Happy Dog, my heart, my laughter, my protector, my baby, my friend, he is all of these. Peanut, an adorable fox-like Pomeranian, with Titian gold hair, and a joyful grin. She is my precious girl. Pixel, our newest arrival, full of mischief and a marvelous deductive mind, that is engaging to see.

And then there is me. That would be where gardening comes in. I love my gardens. I love not knowing, and then finding out. I love failing, only to try again. I love getting dirty. I love collecting earthworms from one place and moving them to another. I love the cool morning breeze upon my face, and best of all, watching things grow. Trees, now 20 feet high were grown from seedlings. Dahlias that I planted as seed, are now blooming.

These are the seasons of my life: My God, my husband, my daughters, my pets, and myself. Taking care of myself is the hardest thing I do. But I don't want to risk a shortened life, because I would not make the hard choices for my health.

Today is a time for sifting my behavior into an attitude of God's will. You see, the diabetes that I had so carefully controlled, has changed. Now, it is in control of me. My doctor and I have begun a new treatment, which still includes diet and exercise. I don't like this. I want to be in control. So, today is a time to sift.

Father in heaven, I'm not worthy of your favor, but I thank You for blessing me with it anyway. May You bless those souls who look in on my journey with You.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

A Time for Perspective

Hello friends.

The picture on the left is one that I have been longing to share. This is the little stone knife that I have written about before. Thousands of years ago, this little knife meant something special to its owner. Was it ceremonial? Was it a weapon of war? Did it belong to a boy? Or a woman?

Except for the back end, which obviously went into a handle of some sort, the edges are dull. The point was either broken or the wages of time have taken its toll. So, who owned this knife before I found it in the soil of our property? And where was this person from?

One of the fallacies of our human nature is to imagine that we are first. First to land on the moon. First to buy the land. First in our own imagination, and, of course, we are the best. But, people came before us. If you check in with the National Geographic Society, even the Neanderthal had a gene marker (actually a mutation on the gene) for red hair and green eyes. When I read that, it made history come that much closer, and since I'm a red-head, with amber eyes (also a mutation), I felt a kind of kinship with the beings who came before us, and whom we have so misunderstood.

Now, I have before me, a small, stone knife. Although worn, it is obvious to see that it was fashioned by an artisan. The sophistication with which it was designed, makes it obvious that the designer was an intelligent, gifted human being. Long, long ago, before you and I were born, there were people who loved, hunted, gathered, and cared to design some of the most beautiful artifacts of history.

The one word that I keep repeating, I have just discovered, is the word design and designer. These days, they have become four letter words. So, in my non-scientific mind, let me just make a few comparisons. Have you ever noticed that the most beautiful seashells have a counter-clockwise pattern that resembles a galaxy? Why? Again, have you noticed that hurricanes, tornadoes, dust-devils, and cyclones all have the same pattern? Why?

I have thought about things like this for years. I believe that they are not proof of, but that they present a good argument for a Designer. Do not confuse the argument for a Designer, with the "six-thousand years creation event." I'm not saying it's wrong. I'm just saying, I don't care how long. All I know is, if we were to go on a treasure hunt, and we found my little knife, we would assume that like things would be buried in that same location. However, when we speak of God, as Designer, we get all crazy about it. The atheists go wild, and the "Creationists" get busy.

I believe in God, and I see patterns in the universe, that tell me that He is the Creator of it all. I know He lives, and I know that He loves me. I feel His hand of protection, and I see His Hand of favor. He lives, and He has filled my life with joy, peace, and love.

I also know that He loves all of His creation, even the ones who deny His very existence. He loved the owner of my little stone knife, and He made the connection between the original designer and me. It is simply a matter of perspective.

Father in heaven, forgive us when our perspective buries our understanding of Your presence. Grant us the grace to see this world, and everything in it, through Your eyes. Let us watch the fading shadows of twilight and know that you are there. And when the sun goes down at the end of the day, or at the end of each life, give us that certainty that we may rest safely in Your arms.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org

A Time to Think

Hello friends,

What gives you peace? Some people like to go into their bedroom, find the perfect book, close the door to all and sundry, prop up against fluffy pillows, turn on a lamp and read.

Others like to go for a walk, or a run. Still others find their peace in their favorite chair with their favorite drink. My husband likes to go downstairs and stand outside, looking up at the night sky, and just think. Let go of the day. Let go of things that you have no power to change. Pray. Even if you don't believe.

I had a vision about prayer one time. We almost lost one of our daughters. Miraculously she pulled through two landmark surgeries. In the vision I saw a multitude of people praying for my girl, and musical notes were floating up to heaven in colors of red, blue, yellow, and rose. I could see them in my mind's eye, and all of a sudden I realized what prayer means to God. When we pray to Him, asking, pleading, explaining, agreeing, doubting, but not retreating, He hears music. I believe that prayer is the music of the heart.

My most peaceful places are in numbers of three: (1) encircled in my husband's arms, alone; (2) laying on the bed with my girls, my husband, and our dogs, just watching a DVD of our favorite show, commercial free, and (3) alone with God in my garden. Oh how I love to talk to Him in my garden.

In my garden, alone with God, I can feel his sheltering arms around me. I can see his breath in the crispy night air, as the mist rises from the valley below. I see Him in every perfect flower. And I see His mercy in every twig that grows up into a tree. With me, my relationship with God is deeply personal, and those moments alone are the best part of my day.

A time to think. What does that mean? According to the Family Word Finder, to think means: to use one's mind; to reason; to reflect; to deliberate; to ponder; to contemplate; to plan.

In my garden, to think means to let go and let God. This is not easy for me, in times of crisis, such as we are in right now, in the U.S. I have such a great list of suggestions for God, and I usually go through a struggle, as I try to surrender, and yet hold on to what I think would be the perfect solution. For some reason, God puts up with me in those times. And when I don't have any suggestions, I simply have to surrender, and it is then that He dries my tears.

So, now, wherever you are in your life, you might find it possible, to seek that place alone with your thoughts, and I hope, alone with God. Focus on what really matters. Think about the people in your life, who are most precious to you. Money is not precious; houses are not precious; even jobs (that are necessary) are not precious, but your loved ones are. Your peace of mind is; honor is; truth is; and of course, peace.

Heavenly Father, for those believers who call out to You, and for those who don't, I entreat You to hear their prayers. We are not perfect, Lord. So forgive us when we stumble. Protect us from the greed that has crippled our nation and that has taken the bread from our children. Guide us in the days ahead, and raise up honest leaders to lead us into tomorrow. May You guarantee our children's future, and may you grant them peace in the turmoils of their lives. Forever may we stand in the light of Your grace. Grant us, oh Lord, the peace that only You can give...the peace that passes all understanding. Peace of heart, peace of soul, and peace within our homes.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org

A Time for Honor and Truth

Hello friends,

Is there anything about that beautiful dachshund, on the left, that I do not love? I hate it when I hear someone say, "Well, they're just like a member of the family." What is that? And is that really how people think of their own family? Just one of the members? Or is it that they are really saying, that the heart and soul of my little dog, is "just a dog?" How could they?!

This little dog has never left my side, willingly. He has, throughout his life, lived with honor and truth. I'm his, and that's all there is to it. I am in his care, not the other way around. If he must he will die defending me. That little dog is so inside my heart, that he is present in every beat. I've told you a lot about him, but this story I haven't told.

When Happy was a year old, he came down with a deadly form of mange. It took four insecticide treatments to kill the deadly mites. He was so sick that it looked like he would die. I'll never forget the morning that he sat up, with ears perked, and then came trotting to my side, as if to say, "Mommy, let's run and play."

When Happy Dog was six years old, he "went down" with a protruding spinal disc. Spinal disc disease, common among low, long-backed dogs, especially dachshunds, is deadly if left untreated. It was a nightmare. I knew I would lose him, and I just couldn't bear it!

He has a wonderful veterinarian who moved heaven and earth to get him to the research hospital at Virginia Tech. The surgery was successful, and Happy Dog was allowed to come home. We crated him for four weeks. Then right before his sixth birthday...you guessed it...another surgery. And, you guessed it again, he survived to race and play again.

One evening, I walked Happy Dog in my front yard, being careful where he stepped, since he was still recovering. There was a feral dog in the neighborhood. I saw the dog, but I had stared the dog down before, so I was unafraid. Quickly, I hurried my faithful companion towards the door. I walked in with Happy Dog, and quickly he did an about face. The ruff on his neck and back stood straight up, and he was growling. Next thing I knew, my husband was down the stairs, and the dog high-tailed it away. That vicious dog had followed us into the house. Can you believe that? And he was after Happy Dog.

Crippled or not, Happy Dog, stood his ground to defend me. I swear, if that wild dog had harmed my precious pet, who is so full of honor and truth, I would have hunted that dog down and torn it limb from limb. Hard to believe that a 62 year old crippled woman would make such a remark. Huh?

Approximately two years ago, Happy had minor surgery, along with teeth cleaning. When I went to pick him up, my hand felt moisture on his chest.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Oh, it's just a little fluid. It's normal." What?

By the time we got home and out of the car, my clothing was soaked with Happy's blood. I held him up, and the blood "drip-drip-dripped." Back to the emergency we went, and the same doctor who had saved his life before, saved him again.

Now, Happy Dog is almost ten years old, and I am grateful for every minute. The only thing that keeps me from letting him sleep in the bed with us, is my fear of him injuring his back in the middle of the night.

So, at a time in our Country, when we have a Presidential election staring us in the face, and every mortgage company and insurance company needs a bail-out, things look pretty bleak. These are the times, however, that I look to my little dog. I have never seen him give up. He has fought every set-back with every ounce of his being. He has no trouble recognizing danger, and when the time comes, he's ready to fight.

Today, I consider the blessings in life, that God has already given me. My husband and daughters and my Christian faith. Another one of my greatest gifts is the love of my Happy Dog. If need be I must face my fears with his courage and grit. There is only one way for my little dog in the face of adversity: fight, and when all else fails, then to stand unmoved.

This present crisis, in the United States, smacks of corruption, or at least, lack of oversight. It's downright scary. Yet, I wonder how Happy Dog would handle this situation. Truthfully, I think that Happy Dog would grab hold of the culprits in charge, and he would give them, while growling fiercely, a great big shake.

So, take heart, my friends. Look around you, and in family and friends, you will find true riches beyond compare. You certainly have blessed my life, just by listening to me. I just hope my little metaphor has blessed you.

Father, bring us through this time of desperation. Help us to understand what is honor and truth. Help us to face the storm ahead, knowing that Your loving presence will be there for us, in the eye of the storm.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org

A Time to Be Real

Hello friends,

The picture of Happy Dog says everything I want to say today. Sometimes, you've just got to shout it. Happy Dog has been shouting his opinion all of his life. He is the Police Pup of all four dogs, especially our biggest one.

At birthday celebrations, it is Happy Dog's job to tackle the present and rip the paper off, as though he is ripping into an intruder. When he is tucked safely under the covers, any movement near him, will learn its lesson quickly, as he savagely grabs the blanket and gives it a good shake.

Another job he has is to get my husband's water bottle under control, by grabbing it and running down the hall. Then he tears off the label, with a bark that says, "So there!!!" But that's not all. He also rebukes my husband's slipper. If my husband is wearing the offending felon, Happy will grab a hold and hang on, furiously struggling against the reprobate. Often he wins the battle, by seizing the slipper, deftly removing it from the victim; then he dashes down the hall. First one way; then the other. Up and down the hall he goes. HERE HE COMES!!! THERE HE GOES!!! And the game doesn't stop until Happy is finished.

Happy Dog is the most joyful being I know. He is a clown, a mischief maker, an authoritarian, and the fiercest, most loyal friend I have. He would die for me. No dog is bigger. No object too hard to face down. And he does everything with a kind of joyous vigour. This dog has a lot to teach, and he teaches me every day.

You see, when I brought Happy Dog home, I was suffering from depression. He changed me with his happy heart. That is why his official name is Sir Happy Heart. Of course, I began to, then, call him Happy Dog.

I don't know how long God will give me with my little Happy Dog. I hope a long, long time. A few years back, I expressed my fears about losing my little boy, to my Father in heaven:

Excerpt from Jaye Lewis' Prayer for My Little Boy

I know, Lord, there will come a day,
When I'll have to say "good-bye."
Yet, even then I'll trust in You;
Although it makes me cry.

I trust in You to carry me
Through that dark and lonely place;
And heal my heart, as I recall,
His little, laughing face.

I know that you will be there,
And you'll wipe my tears away;
And perhaps in Your great mercy,
I’ll be with him, there, one day.

The Bible says, in Heaven
We'll be free from every care;
But I can't imagine Heaven
Unless Happy Dog is there.

So, if I am presumptuous,
I trust You'll understand
That I’ll willingly walk the road ahead,
If You'll only hold my hand.

© Jaye Lewis, 2001

There is not a dog that I have ever known, who has captured my heart, the way that Happy has. He is under my skin and in my heart. I would die for him, and he knows it.

So, why am I sharing this with you today? Because I have seen much division and derision in my country, during this election season. The graft and corruption is unspeakable, yet it has been exposed. Sometimes you've just got to scrape out a sore. I've seen so much pretense, and if I hear, one more time, "my friends," I think I will scream. What? Am I stupid? YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND! MY DOG WOULD MAKE A BETTER PRESIDENT!

Happy Dog would take the miscreants by their ankle, and he would shake the daylights out of them. Then he would bark them to attention, and march them off to jail. Then it's bread and water for the lot of them! Happy Dog is tough. He knows the right thing to be. He shouts it to the sky every day. BE REALLLLL!!!!!!! Be real. It's not hard. If you are real, then the citizens who vote for you will shout for joy.

Father in heaven, grant us the grace to recognize what is real within our candidates in this, our election season. May they state their case, without rhetoric. Please, Lord, show us the way, even into the voting booth. Help us to look at the issues and the candidates, and let us see who will understand and tackle those issues with the fervor and courage of my little dog. Help us to see clearly, just which one is real.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

http://www.entertainingangels.org/

A Time for Peace

Hello friends,

The picture on the left is of one of my gardens. It's small; yet it is filled with things that I like. It's right outside of my back door.

The tree trunk that you see, is ten years old. I planted it as a tiny seedling, along with several others. Most of the seedlings did not grow. This one did. It is a healthy tree. Through torrential rains, ice storms, and summer drought, this tree, somehow is anchored to everything that is good about the land.

When we moved into our house, the yard was filled with trees, but the ground was red clay, which turned to concrete under the summer sun, and became a quagmire after days of rain. Our yard sits on a granite shelf, that is two feet down. The dirt (we laughingly call soil) is covered with the ugliest lawn I've ever seen, and it is filled with rocks. From that beginning, we have created gardens. My favorite is the garden that you see in the photo at top left.

The statue is a statue of Francis of Assisi. Francis was a young man, who lived in the Twelfth Century. He gave up a wealthy existence to become poor. He gave up life as a soldier, to become a man of peace. You may remember his poem, which begins:

"Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith...."

It is well worth the Google-search to read the entire poem.

Francis is one of my favorite peace makers. He loved the Lord, and His people. He loved the animals, and he called them "brother" and "sister." It just seemed right to find a statue of Francis to be a part of this garden.

In the world that we live in, there isn't much peace. Yesterday, a young girl in India committed suicide, because of her fear of what is referred to as "the big-bang machine." Billions of dollars have been spent on this giant contraption that "might" bring about new technologies. Or it might blow the world up. The young girl was so terrified, that she took her own life. It breaks my heart.

Never mind that there are people being slaughtered in the Sudan and around the world...people who want nothing more than a future for themselves and their children. Yet, we are a pretty selfish society, and the more able we become in technology, the less able we become as human beings.

We cannot force peace upon strangers who don't want peace, anymore than we can force peace upon certain members of our own families. You know who I mean. You have perverse people in your life who are all about attack, slash and burn, in their relationships. Anything to bring about their own interpretation of victory. Never peace.

Life is not easy in a world like this. In our own community, there is affluence and poverty. It bothers me. I want someone to care about the poor. When we stand before God, what are we going to tell Him about our propensity to invent one more contraction, that we have no idea WHAT it will actually do? And when He asks us, "Did you feed your brother? Did you heal your sister?" What are we going to say?

"Well, we built a lot of stuff?"

So, I'm sadly aware, that we can only do our best to feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty. We cannot dictate what governments should do. We cannot singlehandedly bring about the one thing that we all long for...peace.

So, as in my garden, we must find a place that brings us personal peace. As we reflect upon this tragic anniversary of America's darkest hour. As we contemplate the lives that were lost at the Twin Towers (from every nation) let us find the peace that we seek within our selves.

So, join with me now, in the garden of our hopes and dreams, and let us bring peace to our souls. We can only pray that our world will follow.

Father in heaven, in the words of your servant, Francis, please make of us, instruments of Your peace.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org

A Time to Consider Friendship

Hello friends,

To our left is a picture of three little friends. At the top of the puppy pile is Pixel, who is nine months old. To the right is my weenie dog, Happy Dog. To the left is Peanut, who is nearly four years old. Really? Nearly four, already? Happy Dog, of course, will soon be eleven years old.

He's growing old, but then, so am I. I'm not crazy about growing old. Gravity is not nice to a woman of 62, and muscle-tone is a thing of the past. Even though I garden, including weeds, pulling up sod, and digging out boulders, still I find that my body betrays me. Enough of the pity party.

I've been thinking a lot about friendship lately, and how illusive it is. If you have one close friend in a lifetime, then you are very rich. I'm not talking about popularity. Nor am I talking about that local pub, "where everyone knows your name." I'm talking about friendship where success is celebrated, and faults and imperfections are overlooked. In fact, sometimes those eccentricities are celebrated and considered a virtue.

We have lost, I believe, in modern society the ability to forge true friendships. We choose friends who think as we do; go to the same Church; or who don't go to Church. We want someone to validate us, not give us a different point of view.

I have one friend, outside of my family. She and I were both pushing forty when we met; both military wives; and we spent nearly eight years living across the street from one another. We did things that made us laugh; we shared sorrows; and we watched our kids grow up together. Even though we live thousands of miles a part, now, we still keep in touch. We have shared lives, experiences, and we forgave one another quickly. I can't think of anyone whom I miss, the way I miss her. She will always be my true friend.

My other friends are my daughters and my husband. Oh yes, aside from family, we are all friends, and we have unique relationships with each other. We all live to be together. We can't wait for that first cup of coffee, when everyone is home. We pile on the bed, along with the sleeping pups above, and we toast the day: Tink...go the cups, as we cry, "I love everyone in this room!!" Then we share our experiences, thoughts, and feelings. There's a lot of laughter. A lot of peace. These are my best friends.

The little pups, in their little puppy pile above, are very different. Happy Dog is older, an alpha-male, who still thinks he's the policeman in charge. Pixel, our little miniature Schnauzer is a lover, not a fighter. She adores Happy Dog, and he let's her. Peanut, is a sensitive four year old, filled with anxiety when her Momma is gone, yet when Momma comes home from work, she is a laughing, playful, bundle of joy. These little dogs fill my life with tenderness and love. They are my friends.

As you look at the picture of our puppy pile, above, remember that these little dogs are not naturally friends. They've worked things out, and although they have their idiosyncrasies, they are definitely friends. What an example they are: loving, arguing, vying for their space, laughing, playing, and, by God, telling time, as they have just now. It's time for lunch, and they are telling me.

Gosh, they are looking at me with wide-eyed expectation. I guess I'd best move along or they'll start barking. We wouldn't want lunch to be late.

Father in heaven. Thank you for the creatures you have given us, from the lowliest sparrow to these little pups, who make our lives rich, beyond compare. Grant us the grace, that we will practice wise stewardship. Let us never forget that you created them first.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
jayelewis@comcast.net

A Time for Memories

Hello Friends,

The picture at the left is one that was taken twelve years ago, of my husband and I, half-way up to a place called... Crystal Falls (I believe). Although it was taken with a "point and shoot" camera, and it is a little hazy, it is one of my favorite pictures.

Hazy. That's what memories are often like. The bad memories become dull, the pain more distant. The good ones seem to be bathed in a halo of light, much like this picture to the left. I have memories from my childhood and beyond, that still inflict pain. I have beautiful memories, also, which are intertwined with the bad, yet are still a part of the pattern of the whole.

Nothing fills my heart with more joy, than reminiscing with my husband about our past, especially our first meeting. What did he feel? What did I feel? Then we try to capture the moment of our first discovery and falling in love. Because of how we both were, and still are, our children were included as an integral part of our beautiful whole. Neither my husband nor I took our love lightly. We didn't leap ahead to the finish line without careful thought and mountains of prayer.

I guess prayer, to a lot of people, seems silly these days, but I believe it is the strong thread that was woven through the tapestry of our lives with one another. We've both lost part of our families, by choice, so that our marriage could grow in a healthy, peaceful environment.

So, we have lost some; but what we have gained is worth more than all this world can offer. We have gained a freedom, by God's grace, that we had never known in our pasts, and we have seen our children grow into women of faith, fortitude and happiness. This could never have come about, without the grace of a loving God, who asks only that He be held first in our hearts.

When I met my husband I knew more about what love was not, then I did about what love is. Oh how handsome he was when he walked through the door. I could tell that he was a real man, and I hadn't the slightest idea what that meant. But now I know.

A real man is a gentle man; yet he can fight fiercely for what is right, without using his fists. A real man loves children, and he is not afraid to make a fool of himself, just to make them laugh. My husband taught our girls how to throw a Frisbee. He played on the jungle-gym and merry-go-round. He played cards until his eyes crossed, and he played board games until he could barely remember his name.

A real man speaks his mind and listens with his heart. He knows who he is, what he believes, and why. A real man puts his ego last, and he doesn't confuse pride with self-respect. He is respectful to everyone, especially women, and he can be trusted like no one else.

A real man takes care with his thoughts, his behavior, and his motives. He is cautious, yet he gives willingly. And when he came into my life, at just the right time, he stole my heart with all the goodness that he was and still is.

A real man is faithful, in thought, word, and deed. He laughs readily, almost as though he's been waiting all day for the punch-line. I think I fell in love with this aspect of his personality, first. A real man may be afraid of commitment, but once he gives his word, it is forever.

So, you can see that I am rather fond of the memories that my husband and I have made through the years. I visit them often. And at night, when I gaze over at him as he sleeps, I thank God, simply for the life of this man, who has given so much life to me.

Father in heaven. Thank you for the life of my wonderful man. Thank you for his heart that is so true. Thank you for his deep, green eyes, that crinkle so readily when he smiles. Oh, how I love the way he looks at me, as though, in his whole life, he has never looked upon anyone so lovely. And that is the greatest gift of all.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

www.entertainingangels.org

www.entertainingangelsencouragingwords.blobspot.com

A Time for Happy Dog

Hello friends,

The picture at the left of this screen is of my beloved companion of over ten years. You can see that he is remarkably young looking for his age. I don't think that he looks a day over seven. He's getting white on his paws, and on his muzzle, but he is as beautiful as ever.

I don't know what I would have done without the devotion of this little dog. For ten years he has been at my side in fair weather and in foul. When illness hit me eight years ago, and no one knew if I would live or die, Happy Dog lay by my side. I have a picture of his worried face, and though the picture of me is not flattering, I will keep it always. When I seemed to be getting better, he was the one who brought me the ball to throw, making up a game that he has taught the other little dogs, and one that he still loves to play.

I've thought a lot about what Happy Dog's faithfulness signifies, and I think I know what it means to me. He has taught me that faithfulness never dims when one loves his master.

I have a Master. Yes, I willingly follow Him; wait on Him; and am often impatient with Him. I believe that my Master loves me, much in the way that I love my Happy Dog. I forgive Happy Dog, even when he does the unthinkable, such as lifting his leg on everything in the house that he claims as his own.

I also have a problem with owning things; like the weather. I NEED RAIN!!! SEND IT NOW!!! Uh..oh. I guess I don't own the weather. I must submit. And I repent. Happy Dog does much the same, when he brings me his ball. I NEED TO PLAY!!! He barks, wagging his tail. He is relentless, following me from room to room, no matter what I need to do first. ME FIRST! PLAY WITH MEEEEEE!!!!

So like me, is this little dog. Yet, I have to crate him from time to time. He is a dachshund after all, and he has degenerative disc disease. When he injures himself, it is prednisone and muscle relaxers; and three to six weeks in the crate. I limit his access to play, so that he can get well and live to play another day.

Degenerative disc disease can be life threatening to a dachshund. It can often require delicate spinal surgery. Happy has had two surgeries, back to back, a month a part. Since then I have crated him five or six times, limiting his mobility so that he can heal.

Loving a dog like my Happy Dog requires devotion, a sense of humor, self-discipline, a rigid diet (so that he has no extra weight on his spine), and he doesn't like it at all.

You may wonder -- heck, I wonder -- what my little allegory has to do with me, other than my undying love for this dog. Well, this is very personal to my relationship with Someone other than my dog. You see, my Master is Jesus Christ. My relationship with Him is central to my faith in God.

God doesn't always consult me. He acts, and I have no idea what He is doing. I can't see the result of my discomfort, much as Happy Dog cannot see from his crate, the real health that I am giving him to play again. So, with my Master, Jesus, I can't see the outcome, and, frankly, sometimes it just makes me crazy. LORD, send me a memo, soon!

All of the pondering of my heart, God can hear. He cares. He acts. And, as my husband says, "It has already happened; you just haven't caught up with it in time." So, here I am, understanding more, by simply writing and sharing my thoughts with you. God is here, always, right with me. In the same room. Looking over my shoulder as I write. He's here, even more than I am with Happy Dog.

God makes me wait, when I want what I want, NOW! He hears my prayer and cares. So my prayer should be, LORD, you know what I want; but I know that you know what I really want before I do.

Father, thank you for giving me an understanding that I can hold on to. My understanding is weak, and perhaps shallow; but I do see why this waiting is so important. I may not like the outcome, but I can trust the One who holds the outcome in His hands. With all my heart, I love You.

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

A Time to Hear and See

Hello friends,

Have you ever felt that you are not being heard? You know. You are speaking, and you are not being heard. "I heard you! I heard you!" Someone may say. But you know that you haven't been heard.

Jesus often referred to people "hearing, but not hearing;" and "seeing, but not seeing." It seems like a paradox. How can one hear, but not hear? And how can one see, but not see? Well, I have a few examples from my own life.

When my husband and I celebrated our thirteenth anniversary, he took me to a posh restaurant, which had romantic lighting. The enormous picture windows allowed us to hold hands and watch the sun go down. All at once, my love, pulls a tiny package out of a colorful bag. Then he pulls out a small, handmade velvet pillow, and he kneels upon it, with one knee. I was astounded as he opened the box and showed me the beautiful engagement ring inside.

"Jaye," he said. "I couldn't give you a ring thirteen years ago; so I offer you this one, now. Will you marry me?"

My eyes filled with tears, which spilled down my face, as the server behind me cried, "Oh, my God!" The restaurant patrons broke out in applause, as I replied in a tremulous voice, "Yes!!!"

No one knew that we were an "old married couple." All they saw was a man and a woman deeply in love. Sadly, at the next table, a tragic break-up had been taking place. A young woman pleaded with an angry man.

"Please, see the sun is going down! Look! Look! It's so romantic."

The irritated man quickly glanced out the window and spat out words I'll never forget, "I SAW IT! I SAW IT!" Then he leaped up and left the restaurant, as his partner sobbed. He hadn't seen it, nor had he heard her.

Hearing words, without understanding, is not hearing. Seeing, yet unmoved, is not seeing. I have learned that seeing and hearing is not about the eyes or the ears. Seeing and hearing is about the heart. So, it may seem as though my pondering over these things is irreverent today, but for me, it is everything.

I had an acquaintance once, whom I thought was a close friend. However -- and this was years ago -- when she and I were watching a horrible sight on the news, our paths went different ways.

I was appalled by the story, and the video of an Ethiopian mother and child. Both were emaciated, and the baby had a swollen belly. I couldn't stand it. All I could see was my baby, dying before my eyes. It was so personal, and I was helpless to save them.

All of a sudden, my "friend" spat out a barrage of filth and obscenities. I could see her face filled with hatred and rage. Then she screamed, a racial slur, and cold shock streaked through me. I couldn't believe it. Before our eyes, the baby's eyes went blank. We had watched her die, and my life was forever changed. My "friend?" Well, let's just say, we were no longer friends. She was able to look, without seeing; and her heart was so hard, that even this did not move her. I went home, and I cried so long, that it seemed like forever.

So, what does this have to do with my life today? Well, that day taught me to look, with an open heart; and I've learned to hear, with open ears. Where I cannot reach out and change the circumstance, I allow the circumstance to change me.

One day, not so many Christmases ago, we had decided that we would not exchange presents, because we do not have small children. Instead, we try to look for ways to help others have a happy Christmas. We've been very blessed by our decision. However, that first Christmas, was the best of all for me. I had one of my holiday asthma attacks, and I was standing in line at the Pharmacy.

I had just paid for my medicine, and I was feeling a little uneasy about our Christmas decision. Then, behind me, a young woman stepped forward to pay for her baby's medicine.

"That will be twenty-five dollars," the clerk said.

The woman stood there holding her baby, and she pushed a bag of change onto the counter. The clerk sighed, and she quickly counted the change.

"You're $4.29 short."

Tears sprung to the young mother's eyes. It was a painful sight. What was she going to do???

"I don't have it." She said.

"I'm sorry." The clerk replied, obviously embarrassed.

Suddenly, a light burst forth in my soul.

"Wait! I can pay for it!" I cried. "I have the money!!" I don't think that I have ever felt so filled with joy and understanding, as I wrote a check for the child's medicine.

"Here," said the young woman, as she tried to give me the bag of change.

"No," I replied, as I handed back her change.

"I'll never forget this gift," she said, "nor you."

"Oh, but you don't understand," I barely choked out the words. "You have given me a priceless gift. And the best Christmas I've ever had."

We parted, and I walked out into a Christmas Eve, all at once filled with light. My heart sang. I cried all the way home, just as I am now. I realized that it doesn't matter when we decide to hear and see. It only matters that we do.

Father in heaven, grant us the grace to hear and see, more than we ever have before. Let each day be a new day to allow our hearts to open towards others. I know that I fail in this, and it always amazes me just how blunt my perceptions can be. By Your grace, I can become a more compassionate, seeing, hearing child of God. In Your name, Amen

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

A Time for Compassion

Hello friends,

Compassion. Just what is it? Is it sympathy? Or is it something more. According to the Family Word Finder, a thesaurus, compassion can be defined as "tenderheartedness." Compassion is feeling the pain of others, and going beyond self to try and heal suffering, without judgement. I believe this is a rare virtue. However, our best example of this kind of compassion is Jesus.

When Jesus was faced with a woman taken in the very act of adultery, instead of staring at her or distaining her, He showed compassion.

"Then neither will I condemn you." There stood the Son of God, averting His eyes, so that He would not add to her shame. How can I not love a God like that?

When He was at the well with the Samaritan woman, did He rant and rave a sermon? And tell her what an adulteress she was? No, He did not. He simply told her about her life. He read her soul, and her heart responded. To this day, there are Christians in the Middle East who trace their faith back to the Samaritan woman at the well.

Jesus made it very clear that we are not to judge. And the Apostle Paul stated that he was not concerned with the behavior of the world, but he was concerned with the behavior of the Church. If you are a Christian, that's you and me.

So, why is it that the attitudes of Christians, in this day, are ones of judgement? Why are conservative Christians, as I am, loud, noisy, even rude? I look at some of my fellow evangelicals, and I think, our attitudes are what gives Christianity a bad name. Why is that? Why have we become so shameful?

Where is our compassion? Where is our decision to follow Christ? When were we elected to judge our neighbors? And just who IS my neighbor? Well, Jesus told us the story of the Good Samaritan, a man who was shunned and judged as an outcast from society. So, what is wrong with us, that we look upon the outcasts of today, without pity?

Lord Jesus, grant me the grace to desire no will of my own. Hold up the mirror of your perfect example, and open my heart that I may cast aside my pride. May I love others as you have loved me. May I see myself through your eyes, and may I become a compassionate Christian, just as you desire of me.

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

A Time for Belief

Hello friends,

Once when presented with a request for healing, Jesus asked, "Do you believe?" The petitioner then cried out, "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!"

So much of my life has been filled with this struggle. Lord, I know you'll provide. Help me to last until the tide turns. I waited ten years for a new asthma medication - one that would allow me to go months, even years without an asthma attack. Lord, give me my next breath, and let me see a healthier tomorrow. With asthma, fibromyalgia, arthritis, and neuralgia, I waited years. Lord, give me one more day without pain. Help me to live each day with hope.

Too many years have meant a battle with my health. I hate every pill I take, every single time. Yet, each time that there is a problem with one of my presciptions being filled, the anxiety has been almost unbearable. Lord, help me to believe that this, too, is directed by your hand. I get angry when my medications are messed with. You too? Yeah, you know what I mean.

We have three little dogs: Happy Dog, my little dachshund; Peanut, my youngest daughter's pomeranian; and our newest, Pixel, my older daughter's miniature schnauzer. If I am sitting on the bed, as I am now, they are all around me. Happy Dog on my left, sucking all the heat out of my left hip; Pixel, pushed up against Happy; and Peanut at my feet, because the other dogs have cooties. Each has its own personality. Each has its own personal need. They depend on me. And when they have a request, they sit up and stare expectant holes through me, knowing that I will understand and respond.

If only I had faith in God, with the same measure as they have faith in me. But we humans don't offer faith very easily. We want proof. These little dogs don't need proof. They know. I realize that there is a lesson here. Only when my faith becomes trust, can I be as good as my dogs.

Little dogs are very unique creatures. They are smarter, more observant, and more demanding. They are filled with love, intuitiveness, and courage that is only surpassed by their sense of humor. Each can make your soul spill over with fierce affection, and when they ignore you (as they will if you displease them), it can just about break your heart. Little dogs are also the only animal that Jesus speaks about, in Scripture, with fond affection. How appropos that my Savior should let me know how precious they are. Little dogs.

I don't know how I lived my life, without these little dogs. Each has something precious to give to me. Happy, with his undying devotion, after eleven years, has left his mark on my soul. Peanut, whose tremendous, watchful spirit, has taught me much about loyalty, single-mindedness, and the power of waiting. Pixel, just a little over six months in our family, has taught me the boundless energy of puppyhood, and with her blue-green, human-like eyes, she has given me a look into my own soul.

Each pup gives everything, 100%, always. Can I do that? Can I love with their passion? Can I trust with such capacity. I don't know. But I can try. Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.

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

A Time for Letting Go

Hello friends,

My heart and my mind have been in a turmoil for much of this year. There are many reasons, but here's what it feels like.

Suppose that I am in a burning building, on the 10Th floor. To leap out with no where to go except down is simply impossible. But I don't want to stay where I am, and below me is real safety. When I look down, out the window, I can see a ring of fireman, stoutly holding a net. Do I jump, or do I stay? I sit on the windowsill, and my heart is pounding in my chest. Jumping is simply not going to happen. I clutch the hard wood beneath my fingers, until they almost break. I pray with all my fear, shouting to God. SAVE ME, LORD!!! And then I hear a voice.

"Be at peace. I will save you. All you have to do is let go." Then, I let go.

The rest of the story doesn't matter. It's the letting go that changes my life. Letting go is the first step to surrender. Holding on is defeat. Obviously, I am talking about my relationship with God and my understanding that He knows better than I. We simply don't think the same. My thoughts are selfish, and perhaps, self-serving. God's thoughts are perfect and often contrary to what I want.

So, at that point, I have two choices: to hold onto my desires or to trust in Him and let go. Over and over again I have this struggle. One would think that I would be comfortable with whatever God wants, before I see the outcome. I've practiced being stubborn, and I'm really good at it. Each time, I do repent, and I always wonder why I doubted God's perfect knowledge. Yet, I repeat my pattern of sin again and again.

The Apostle Paul said it best in Romans 7:15-16...For what I am doing, I do not understand. For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do. If, then, I do what I will not to do, I agree with the law that it is good.

Whew!! If that's not confused, I don't know what is! Yet, this passage of Scripture intimately illustrates the struggles of my very human spirit.

I've heard many a fellow Christian say: "Once I was saved, I never looked back, never faltered, never doubted, etc., etc., etc." This always annoys me. Because when they are looking at the perfection of their life, I am looking at the basket case that I often am. Sure, I'm going forward, but I'm stumbling all the way. In fact, I sometimes pick up the stumbling blocks, and with breaking back, I toss them ahead of me in my path, just so I can fall over them! At least so it seems.

Sometimes the way seems so certain. I can see the path that I want so clearly, that I mistake the difference between God's will and mine. I forget that God makes my path straight, as I step forward, trusting only in Him.

I don't know how some people live without God. Without even a desire to know Him. To seek. To find out. I don't understand. But, then, maybe they do look and desire, but they just can't let go of their naked desires. If only I could reach their hearts and tell them:

God reaches for us, as we are; not as we will become. He loves us in spite of, and perhaps in some way, because of our faults and imperfections. And He wants us no matter what. All you have to do is let go of that box of rocks that you carry around on your back.

It's true that letting go is the hard part. After that, letting God is easy. My struggle has been two-fold: my real fear for my country and my even greater fear for my daughters. You see, I've seen what God has done. He has done miracles in their lives, as well as mine. How can I doubt him? Why do I go to Him with my list of instructions? And why does He accept me back in spite of the same sin, again and again?

Today, I stand on the threshold of God's greatest blessing for me. He has fulfilled my dreams for my children, by fulfilling their dreams for themselves. Now, it is time for me to let go, and let Him make their path straight before them.

Father, I'm so sorry that I am so stubborn. I'm not submissive, nor am I the obedient daughter that You deserve. This day, yet again, I place my hopes and my dreams, my joys and my sorrows - past, present, and future - into Your loving hands. I understand that although I don't know the outcome, I can trust the One who does. So, Father, this is me, letting go.

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

A Time for a Relationship

Hello friends,

There was a time in my life when I had no idea what "a relationship" meant. I certainly didn't come from a family where anyone knew or practiced a relationship. We were one of the original dysfunctional families. Some people say that in the dictionary, along with the definition of dysfunctional, there is a picture of their family. If that is true, then my family should have had their own page.

I don't quite understand why we had such terrible strife when I was growing up. Perhaps it was because my mother and father "had" to get married (my mother's words). Perhaps my Dad resented that, and my mother felt that she had sacrificed her youth. I have no answers. I only know that there was a battle, almost daily, and that I was a very unhappy child.

When I was in college, studying psychology, I actually had a private discussion with my professor, and I asked her about families like mine. I brought letters and told her about some of the most volatile arguments. My father was an alcoholic, that much is clear. No normal person can down a case of beer, in a day, and this would go on for weeks.

My mother would have grand periods of brilliant light and low periods when I couldn't get her out of the basement. Since none of these things were ever spoken of, I carried them around like bricks in a sack, and it was years before I could ever let go of them.

Let me not forget my siblings. Wait, let's forget them. Let's just say that there was a big enough age gap, that we never became close. I try not to remember the utter cruelty, twisted lies, and unbelievable lack of kindness, and that is all I will say.

So how could someone like me ever have a relationship? Where would I start? And what did that mean? Well, without knowing, I began seeking God. Then with the birth of my second child, something happened within my spirit. It may have been triggered by a physical event. I almost bled to death. Then, there was the fact that no one wanted my little girl, so that made me want her more. We have had the closest relationship for over 36 years.

By the time my last child came around, she turned out to be a ray of light. And light, my friends, is what a relationship is. It's not sex. It's not games. It's not flirtation. It's about seeking the light that God gives to each of us, that we either accept or reject.

Light cannot be forced upon you. It shines on you, and some people run from the light. I know, because I have run before. But God never gave up on me. He followed me down the dark roads of my life, and wherever I stopped, He met me there. I find the love of God irresistible, even as I found my husband's love irresistible.

When my husband and I met, we had little in common. You might say that he was blue jeans and tennis shoes, and I was more satin and lace. But we both loved books, and, by golly, my two youngest children fell in love with him. They lived to get us together, and they very much succeeded. We fell in love, married, and we just celebrated our 27Th anniversary.

At 62, I have traded the satin and lace for flannel and fleece. I don't move as well as I once did, but his hands holding mine are still warm and strong. He lights my life with a strong, masculine presence, and a sense of decency that still amazes me. He has made me happy, and that is a first class miracle.

So where am I today? I am in a deep, personal relationship with my Creator. I am a Christian who walks in the foot steps of Jesus. I don't deserve His grace, but I can feel His light all around me.

I believe that God held me in His heart from the first second of creation, and He holds me in His heart today. My life is that cool cup of water, with which He quenched my thirst. I was hungry, and He fed me. And He feeds me still. I cannot tell you why God has blessed me. Lord knows that I haven't earned it.

Because of Him, and His grace, I seek to become a better person, a kinder person. It's like this: what do I want to leave behind, when my Father in Heaven calls me home? Kindness. Gentleness. Forgiveness. And love.

Father in Heaven. How can I ever express my gratitude for all of Your mercy and grace? You have changed my heart and my life. You have given me a loving marriage and children who honor and love me. You, Lord, not me. I could not have done this myself. Why, oh why, would You choose me?

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

A Time for Victory

Hello friends,

I want to apologize for my rantings about American politics. This journey that I take with God is no place for confusion, anger, and resentment. There is so much more to my life, with little victories that I cannot take credit for. So, I ask for your forgiveness and for the forgiveness of God.


Politics in America can get pretty raw. Perfectly normal people become wrapped up in ideas, ideals, fears, biases, and (the closer we get to election day) insanity. Entering the election booth can be so intimidating, that my hands become ice-cold and sticky with sweat. Making a wise choice seems absolutely impossible. So, for now, I think it is time to abandon politics, and welcome you to another day.

Every morning is a triumph for me. I wake up before dawn, and I share that first sip of coffee with my husband and daughters. Soon we say our good-byes, and I am now alone. Sometimes I watch the sun rise in the mountains. Sunrises are breathtaking here. You have to watch carefully, so that you don't miss seeing the mist, suddenly, swept away by the heat of the rising sun.

The sun sends rosy streaks across the sky, then the first glint of morning's bright dawn shoots through the trees. The trees around my house are alive with birds who shout their welcome. My heart feels the warmth of a new, sweet day, long before the summer's heat sends me indoors.

There was a time, not that long ago, when I could barely pull myself out of bed. Hitting the floor with my knees was easy. Staying down as I prayed for strength to rise up, was often painful. Pushing myself up was an agony, and staggering into the shower was a major triumph. Later, while looking for answers in the Word of God, I found none. Serious, often life threatening, illnesses ruled my life. I was certain that I would never get well. Surely there would never be medications strong enough to treat my suffering. I was wrong.

I had made a conscious choice, before God, that I would accept physical illness, if He would send healing to my soul. But over the years, my resolve had gotten weaker, and I was very close to giving up. Then, in what seemed like overnight new medications were available to heal my body. I could not believe it. My life changed dramatically. How could I keep my balance now, when a whole new world seemed open to me? So, I keep God with me, within my new found hope.

Now, I race through the early morning dark, so that I can slip outside and dig in the dirt. Earthworms wriggle through my fingers, and plants reach for the sky. Do you have any idea just how triumphant it feels to force a weed to give up its home in the soil? It's as though you are this great giant ripping trees from the earth.

Like a little girl shaking her tousled curls, my garden moves in the wind. The cool morning breeze tickles my skin, and I begin the best part of my day. God walks in my garden in the cool of the day. I can feel his touch upon me. I see His smile in each nodding bloom that greets my heart.

God loves me, and I know it. He delights in what delights me. Oh, how could I look upon the beauty of this earth, that is still evident, even after we have polluted it, and say, "this was an accident?" Such notions are foolish, and the Bible makes it clear that to say there is no God, requires one to be a fool.

So, I believe, even as I have believed in my weakest moment. Despairing though I was, I knew that God loved me then, too. I thank Him for that grace, and it would be a disservice to disbelieve in Him now.

So, I now begin the dawn of my day. I wish you grace and peace no matter who you are. May the Lord light your path and make it straight before you. And may you find yourself safe in the palm of His hand.

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

A Time for Identity

Hello friends,

"You're not from here." I have heard that comment many times, since our retirement from the Navy. People can tell by my voice, immediately, that I'm just not from the southern Appalachians. No, I'm not from here, although I've lived here since 1996, and two years in '92 through '94. I'm not from here, but I love it.

I love the people, whose honesty and kindness are a testimony to the lives they live. Never fear that you'll get stuck on the side of the Interstate if your car breaks down. Someone is going to stop to help. Someone else will contact the State Police, and, quite frankly, you're likely to draw a crowd.

It amazes me, and angers me, when I hear the people of the Appalachian southern states ridiculed or made light of, as though they are too ignorant to come in out of the rain. Let's not forget that this is the birthplace of Country music, which has made stars of guitar pickers from all over the world, including Australia.

When I was a little girl, I spent some wonderful days in the care of a half-Cherokee woman who taught me how to cook, sew, and to love. She was from Johnson City Tennessee, and her last name was...you guessed it...Johnson. You have not lived until you've tasted her fried peach pies. And the thought of her buttered biscuits, dripping with orange blossom honey, still makes my mouth water. Yum.

My point is that much is being made of southern Appalachia in this election year. I've heard these dear people brushed off as "real rednecks," totally unworthy of the smallest modicum of respect. This hurts my heart. You see, my sweet husband is from Tennessee, and his twangy country voice was one of the things that made it easy for me to fall in love with him. The ignorance of many news people, simply boggles my mind. The very idea that intelligence can be determined by your colloquial accent is sheer nonsense.

Who thinks that Henry Kissinger is a low-brow, simply because he speaks with an accent. We all have accents. I have a north Florida accent, which means I sound like I'm from California or Indiana or any other place which has assimilated so many accents that anything original has been wrung out.

I feel deeply for Senator Obama when his speech is referred to as too intellectual. That too is nonsense to me. I understand every word he says. Is he brilliant? You bet he is. He's smart enough to know that he doesn't know everything, so he goes to the brightest of the bright for advice and counsel. I don't very much trust a person who "knows everything." That person is often a "self-made man" who adores his maker.

I can state very positively that with every speech, I wonder about John McCain's ability to guide our country out of the mess his party has given to us. After all, he is the one who has spent nearly 30 years straddling fences and "making deals" across the isle. Making deals does not necessarily mean compromise. It can also mean that you flow where the wind blows. Every word out of his mouth tells me he is not a nice man.

I am not amused with John McCain's political ads. Far from making me question Barack Obama's capacity to lead, McCain's ads make me question his abilities...not to mention his mental capacity. For God's sake, he's arm in arm with Rush Limbaugh, a radio broadcaster, whose army of "ditto-heads" still follow him blindly, in spite of his known drug addictions. It makes me wonder if they all gather together in someone's basement, shaving one another's back and putting their head's together to agree on the next political move.

This is not smart. Do they really think that the American voting public are idiots? Uninformed? In a coma? Believe me, even way back here in the boondocks, where the "real rednecks" live, we have the Internet, and I know very few people who don't have a computer. Oh yes, one of those computer illiterate people is John McCain.

Oh! Will this election cycle never end? I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the carrion picking the bones. Oh, for the days of Walter Cronkite and Edward R. Murrow! When news meant news, and "tabloid journalism" was shunned as not real journalism.

So, this is why I talk about this being a time for identity...a time to know one's heart. Who am I? And where do I belong? I've been asked that a lot, and I can definitely declare: I may not have been from here, but I am now.

I hope and pray that God sees the faithfulness of the people of this region. I hope that they receive the President that they need. This is where I will spend the rest of my life, among God's people, who turn to Him each day. There's a humility here, that touches my heart. I'm from Appalachia. This is my home.

Dearest Father in heaven grant us the wisdom that only comes from you. Hold our hands as we step out in a journey that only Your grace can guide. Help us to know our hearts, and help us to understand who we are, as well as whose we are.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org

A Time for Praise

Hello friends,

I'm sitting here, at my computer, with dirt all over my clothes and face. My hair is plastered to my head, and my face is a rosy red. No, not a sunburn. I stay covered up. I've been gardening since 7:30 in the morning, and now it's time to call it a day.

The sun is now high in the sky, and even shade gives little relief, but I WAS GARDENING!!!! That, my friends, is a miracle. After my relationship with God and my family, there is nothing else I love to do more than gardening. Because of my health, I have not been able to garden in five years! And even when my health was not at stake, I have never been able to garden after the 4th of July. Here it is July 19th, and here I am, covered with dirt. What a blessing it is to play in the dirt and watch the earthworms scurry away.

It's a funny thing about earthworms. They have no idea just how much I love them. I take great care to keep them safe, as I return them to do their job in the soil. But the earthworms are unaware of me. They only know that their lives have been interrupted.

This has gotten me thinking. How often is my life interrupted, and I have no idea why? I can't see the One who is lifting me from the soil and laying me gently in another, safer place. I wiggle and squirm, panic and moan, and I never look up to see His face. Like the earthworms, I have my panic attack, focusing only upon myself.

Now, I am more than an earthworm. Jesus said, that not a single sparrow falls to the ground, that our Heavenly Father does not know. (I know, I've just used double negatives.) Then Jesus tells us: "You (meaning you) are worth more than many sparrows." This is revolutionary! God knows who the sparrow (or the worm) is. He loves each sparrow, but he loves us more...MORE THAN MANY! He loves me. He loves ME!

So, now, that I find myself out in the garden at 7:30 in the morning...weeding, planting, planning, and saving all the worms...I cannot help but praise the One who made this all possible. I know there are those who would say: science, not God, made this possible. My answer, of course, is this: Who made the scientist? From where did the scientists receive their intellect, their need to explore the unseen world, their desire to reach out for a treatment for a certain disease?

I believe that God is the Author of my life. I know with a great certainty that I needed to be sick. I needed to take the time to reach a relationship with God. Oh, how lovely is the gift which comes to us unexpectedly, after much asking! And what about the gift that we receive after we have given up? It is difficult to not feel humbled, when God steps in and fills that gap in our lives with Himself. So, now I praise my Lord and my God.

Father, I stand in awe because of Your mercy and grace. I am humbled by Your love for me. Forgive me Lord for my tremulous faith. I know that You love me, and I can only praise You at the foot of the Cross.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org

A Time for Clearheadedness

Hello friends,

Do you ever feel as though the world is going insane around you? Yeah. Me too. Right and wrong has been eliminated; whereas expediency is now a profound virtue. Expediency: self-serving, self-seeking, conniving, calculating, thinking only of oneself. This is now a virtue? It's okay to cheat when it serves your purpose? And, my word, "TV Hell" has become the thief of inner peace! You know what I'm talking about - the not really reality TV? I believe it is a reflection not of what we have become (or at least I hope not), but it is a reflection of what we allow. Then, there is politics...American politics.

America is suffering from, what we call, an election year. It's kind of like the year of blowing smoke. Politicians say anything to get elected, and then they do little or nothing. But the lunacy does not stop with the politicians. It also rests in the hearts of the voters, many of whom (and I say this without rancor) seem to be out of their minds!

Americans are, by nature, centrists. Usually, if one is a Democrat, one leans a little to the left. Liberal. Those who are Republican, usually lean a bit toward the right. Conservative. Liberal does not mean unpatriotic, and Conservative does not mean salvation. In the middle are Independents, the sort of live and let live voters. Independents swing elections.

In our present election for President of the United States, we have John McCain and Barack Obama. Barack Obama is not a demon, and John McCain is not the answer to our prayers. Barack Obama is a Christian. He has won me over on that. It is obvious, not in his speeches, but in the way he answers questions about his faith in Christ. I was amazed. He is so comfortable in his expression of his faith...thoughtful, and to tell you the truth, with awe and reverence.

Faith is not where you park your body on Sunday morning. It is an expression of where your heart is. Now, I disagree with many of Barack's more left-leaning opinions, but he has made it clear to me that he loves our country more than he would love the power of the Presidency.

Obama was naive in the beginning, and I was fervently for Hillary Clinton. I was offended by the way she was treated, but I was proud of her honor in defeat. Since then, I've seen a change in Obama, a deeper humility that just may be the mark of an outstanding President.


McCain is not the man he was in 2000. Maybe he never was. He has totally disappointed me. He loves to drop insulting remarks, parading as humor. On a personal level, I don't like people who make insulting remarks and call it humor. It's fine for smoke filled rooms, but not in the Presidency. There is something unlikeable about him these days.


There are only two choices for President. McCain or Obama. Obama's campaign with Hillary Clinton served him well. There's nothing like feeling humble to change a heart. Some-where in the midst of the Primary Election, Obama had a heart change. He's suffered shock and loss. I think he's learned. And I believe the greatest gifts a President can give to his country is humility and the desire for change.

So, in spite of myself, Obama has won me over with style and grace. I'm certain that he loves his country as much as I do. I don't know if I care to sit across the table from him and share an arugula salad and latte. Who thought that one up? Some reporter, no doubt. I don't want a coffee buddy; I want a President who loves his country more than he loves the power it gives him.

So, I'm looking closely at this election. I watch everything about the election on T.V. I believe that the world is watching too. I'm amazed at the argument as to who is actually qualified to be President. No one is "qualified" to be President. It is strictly a "place your hand in the hand of God" endeavor. I just pray that God will truly be with us, and that He will choose the best man.


Lord, we have asked for the President whom we need, rather than the President that we deserve. Have mercy on us, please. This is a journey we are taking together, a journey that fills our hearts with much trepidation. Please take our hand, Lord. Remember that we are in the midst of a tempest. The sea, Lord, is so big, and our ship is so small. Have mercy.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
http://www.entertainingangels.org/

A Time to Think

Hello friends,

Do you ever feel as though you don't have time to think? Your mind races, trying to find answers to your life. Why am I unemployed? Why am I in a dead-end job? Why is he or she complaining, when they HAVE a job, and I don't?

Lord, help me to think. Help me to find the time, and grant me the focus to understand what is happening! Slow me down Lord. Let my heart seek you in the troubled sleep of the night. Why, Lord, do I seem to be taking two steps forward and two steps back?

My friends, all these things, and more, may be keeping you awake at night. Or, perhaps your sleep is giving you no rest. I, too, wonder things, and I, also, seek God's guidance while I drift off to sleep.

There are those who will declare that they don't worry. After all, they say, that they are the Captain of their souls. Those were the last words of Timothy McVeigh. What a sad admission.

I believe that it is illogical to believe in no higher power. The evidence is all around us, and yet, there are those who spend most of their time trying to prove that Almighty God does not exist. Why? Why do people fight against what they insist does not exist? This is a mystery to me.

I don't care if others think I'm a fool. I am a fool. I'm a fool for Christ. I love Him. I believe in Him. He is my Savior. He is my Lord.

There once was a famous scientist who proclaimed to the very end of his life, that there is no God. God did not exist. However, he believed in alien life forms. He also believed that asthma was a psychosomatic (imagined) disease, along with other auto-immune diseases. He believed in nothing. Not what he witnessed. Not what he saw. Nothing. He believed in nothing that was greater than himself.

Well, in the early days of space flight, this scientist worked on a project, which would send a rocket ship into space and across the universe. It is probably still beeping back at us. While all this was wonderful to me, I did not mistake an earthly space craft for my higher power. He did. As the primitive ship was blasted into space, the scientist, who believed in nothing greater than himself, stood transfixed, with tears streaming down his cheeks. Surely this effort would reflect back on us should some alien come across it.

Isn't that sad? He didn't believe in God, but he worshipped the work of his own hands. How transitory we all are. I bet that if I gave you the scientist's name you would not know whom I was talking about.

I guess what I am trying to convey, as I invite you for a journey into my own heart, is to take the time. Someone is out there, and if you don't believe in Him, He believes in you. So, take this time to think, as I will, and ask Him where you are going; why you are here; and what is His plan for you.

Lord, in these troubled times, it is easy to doubt, even though you have kept your hand of protection upon each of us. Please forgive me for the times I have forgotten You. And thank You for never forgetting me. Help us through the storms of life, and by your grace, bring us safely to the other side. May we never forget that You have carved us upon the palm of your hand, and that we are a treasure to You.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangles.org