A few nights ago, when God urged me to read and meditate on Psalm 144:1, I spent several hours focusing on that scripture. Those of you who know me well know that I love researching just about anything on the Internet. I like the challenge of seeing how much information I can find.
So, I read various takes on Psalm 144:1 and then came up with my own (see post dated 2/19/10). At that very moment, God sent the exact words that I needed to hear. Like fingers sheathed in a warm, velvety glove, the scripture fit my circumstances perfectly.
Never one to stop searching when I stumble upon something that speaks to me, I continued to explore various Internet sites. I love flipping the pages of my Bible, but if you ever see me carrying it and wonder why the pages aren’t worn and dog-eared, there are two reasons for that:
1) I haven’t had this particular Bible all that long—maybe 3 or 4 years; and
2) I do most of my studying and delving into the scriptures using an Internet site called Bible Gateway.
I looked for Biblical references to “war” and “battle” realizing quickly that the Scriptures are filled with passages that tell us how to do battle over sin and evil—how to wage spiritual warfare. As I read through passage after passage, my thoughts were always on Dustin and how these scriptures would be encouraging to him. I promised myself to either send him one or two verses every day or to write something about these passages in my blog to encourage him--and myself. After jotting down several dozen verses to reference later, I decided it was time for me to finally unwind and get some sleep.
While my trip to Pinehurst gave opportunities for relaxation, it was exhausting! My sister-in-law and I stayed up the first night talking until 3 AM. The second night, I had a crisis with some pictures I was required to take (it was a business trip, after all), and I went to bed after 2 AM that night. Now, well past an hour that any sane person should still be awake, I started another of my rituals.
I find it very hard to go to bed without straightening the kitchen. It doesn’t have to be spotless, but I like to load the dishwasher and go through the clutter—receipts and hardware that Rusty has taken from his pockets and the mail. Since I had been gone for three days, the mail was piled high.
I noticed a package in a brown, padded envelope, but moved it aside to go through the rest of the mail. Thinking it was probably a book I’d ordered, I put it aside and plowed through the catalogs, putting the ones I wanted to glance through later into a stack and walking to the laundry room to drop the others into the recycling bin. Next, I shuffled through the fliers and promotional mailers and tossed most of those in the garbage.
Finally, I picked up the manila envelope trying to recall what I had ordered. I glanced at the return address and didn’t recognize it or the store as any of the online sites I had shopped recently. Now my curiosity was piqued!
I opened the junk drawer for a pair of scissors, but as usual, they had been removed and not returned. Now anxious to see the contents of the mysterious envelope, I shuffled through the silverware drawer and grabbed a steak knife.
Though I was anxious, I was careful as I cut across the top of the envelope. Inside was a beautiful, leather-bound journal with diagonal stitches around the edges and on the front. In the center of the cover was a circle outlined in the same leather stitching. Amidst the leather threads was a pale, brown stone that signified this book was something to be treasured.
I untied the string that held the book closed to reveal a textured paper—the kind that looks handmade. As I opened the first page, a business card fell to the floor. I picked it up and on the back was a handwritten note.
I won’t be able to talk with you often, so I thought
you’d like to write down your thoughts and feelings
so we can share when I return.
Love,
Dustin
My sweet son had taken the time to pick out a gift for me to arrive just before his deployment. I was touched that he had known exactly the right thing to buy and that he had put so much thought into a gift that so suited my character.
You see, Dustin and I have been through a lot together. We know each other well. And during his time in Indiana as he trained to deploy, our conversations had been a bit stilted. I found myself a little sad at the end of each call because the son whom I was able to have warm and wonderful conversations with most of his life seemed very distracted and in a hurry to hang up. In hindsight, I realize that he was pretty stressed and probably was putting a bit of mental distance between himself and the people he loves.
I felt my chest begin to tighten from the sheer effort of quelling my emotions. I walked to the sofa and clutched the journal to my chest. As I closed my eyes, I had a mental slide show running through my head...Dustin as a tow-headed toddler who was always into something, memories of snuggling with him in the recliner and afternoon chats about his day, pictures of him during that gawky phase that all kids go through and snippets of conversations between us about how he would not always be chubby. And finally, images of him as he boarded a bus in Andrews to begin the first aspect of his official deployment.
Then the tears flowed! I cried for joy because my son remembered the things that are important to me. I cried because I wanted to give him a hug and couldn’t. But the tears that flowed most freely were those that came from the speaking of the Holy Spirit to me during this long night of internal conflict.
God's timing is so perfect! For hours I had searched God's Word for comfort and encouragement--for me and my son. But had I discovered the journal before I discovered God's words of comfort, I may have allowed a material possession to interfere with my discovery of the peace that passes all understanding. The peace that can only come from knowing Jesus and what He wants for us.
Even though the scriptures brought a calming, God knew that as a mother, I needed just a little more--a tangible sign that Dustin and I would always have that connection between us despite the great physical distance. I wonder if Dustin knew that God was using him when he bought that journal. I hope he sensed the presence of the Heavenly Father as he thought of his earthly mother and the struggle I would face during his time away. I wonder. . .
So, I read various takes on Psalm 144:1 and then came up with my own (see post dated 2/19/10). At that very moment, God sent the exact words that I needed to hear. Like fingers sheathed in a warm, velvety glove, the scripture fit my circumstances perfectly.
Never one to stop searching when I stumble upon something that speaks to me, I continued to explore various Internet sites. I love flipping the pages of my Bible, but if you ever see me carrying it and wonder why the pages aren’t worn and dog-eared, there are two reasons for that:
1) I haven’t had this particular Bible all that long—maybe 3 or 4 years; and
2) I do most of my studying and delving into the scriptures using an Internet site called Bible Gateway.
I looked for Biblical references to “war” and “battle” realizing quickly that the Scriptures are filled with passages that tell us how to do battle over sin and evil—how to wage spiritual warfare. As I read through passage after passage, my thoughts were always on Dustin and how these scriptures would be encouraging to him. I promised myself to either send him one or two verses every day or to write something about these passages in my blog to encourage him--and myself. After jotting down several dozen verses to reference later, I decided it was time for me to finally unwind and get some sleep.
While my trip to Pinehurst gave opportunities for relaxation, it was exhausting! My sister-in-law and I stayed up the first night talking until 3 AM. The second night, I had a crisis with some pictures I was required to take (it was a business trip, after all), and I went to bed after 2 AM that night. Now, well past an hour that any sane person should still be awake, I started another of my rituals.
I find it very hard to go to bed without straightening the kitchen. It doesn’t have to be spotless, but I like to load the dishwasher and go through the clutter—receipts and hardware that Rusty has taken from his pockets and the mail. Since I had been gone for three days, the mail was piled high.
I noticed a package in a brown, padded envelope, but moved it aside to go through the rest of the mail. Thinking it was probably a book I’d ordered, I put it aside and plowed through the catalogs, putting the ones I wanted to glance through later into a stack and walking to the laundry room to drop the others into the recycling bin. Next, I shuffled through the fliers and promotional mailers and tossed most of those in the garbage.
Finally, I picked up the manila envelope trying to recall what I had ordered. I glanced at the return address and didn’t recognize it or the store as any of the online sites I had shopped recently. Now my curiosity was piqued!
I opened the junk drawer for a pair of scissors, but as usual, they had been removed and not returned. Now anxious to see the contents of the mysterious envelope, I shuffled through the silverware drawer and grabbed a steak knife.
Though I was anxious, I was careful as I cut across the top of the envelope. Inside was a beautiful, leather-bound journal with diagonal stitches around the edges and on the front. In the center of the cover was a circle outlined in the same leather stitching. Amidst the leather threads was a pale, brown stone that signified this book was something to be treasured.
I untied the string that held the book closed to reveal a textured paper—the kind that looks handmade. As I opened the first page, a business card fell to the floor. I picked it up and on the back was a handwritten note.
I won’t be able to talk with you often, so I thought
you’d like to write down your thoughts and feelings
so we can share when I return.
Love,
Dustin
My sweet son had taken the time to pick out a gift for me to arrive just before his deployment. I was touched that he had known exactly the right thing to buy and that he had put so much thought into a gift that so suited my character.
You see, Dustin and I have been through a lot together. We know each other well. And during his time in Indiana as he trained to deploy, our conversations had been a bit stilted. I found myself a little sad at the end of each call because the son whom I was able to have warm and wonderful conversations with most of his life seemed very distracted and in a hurry to hang up. In hindsight, I realize that he was pretty stressed and probably was putting a bit of mental distance between himself and the people he loves.
I felt my chest begin to tighten from the sheer effort of quelling my emotions. I walked to the sofa and clutched the journal to my chest. As I closed my eyes, I had a mental slide show running through my head...Dustin as a tow-headed toddler who was always into something, memories of snuggling with him in the recliner and afternoon chats about his day, pictures of him during that gawky phase that all kids go through and snippets of conversations between us about how he would not always be chubby. And finally, images of him as he boarded a bus in Andrews to begin the first aspect of his official deployment.
Then the tears flowed! I cried for joy because my son remembered the things that are important to me. I cried because I wanted to give him a hug and couldn’t. But the tears that flowed most freely were those that came from the speaking of the Holy Spirit to me during this long night of internal conflict.
God's timing is so perfect! For hours I had searched God's Word for comfort and encouragement--for me and my son. But had I discovered the journal before I discovered God's words of comfort, I may have allowed a material possession to interfere with my discovery of the peace that passes all understanding. The peace that can only come from knowing Jesus and what He wants for us.
Even though the scriptures brought a calming, God knew that as a mother, I needed just a little more--a tangible sign that Dustin and I would always have that connection between us despite the great physical distance. I wonder if Dustin knew that God was using him when he bought that journal. I hope he sensed the presence of the Heavenly Father as he thought of his earthly mother and the struggle I would face during his time away. I wonder. . .
