Drowning in the Desert

There's a short poem I read once, years ago that stuck with me. It was simple. Four lines but so profound to me. I don't even know who wrote it:

"I crawled across the desert
 dragging my tiny cup.
 If I had only known you
 I'd have come running with a bucket."

Like this poem, the song "What Do I Know of Holy?" by Addison Road, makes me think, really think, about who exactly I think is listening to me when I pray...

This past Spring & Summer has been very trying for me, personally.  In just 6 months I have had to handle an seemingly unending onslaught of physical pain, personal pain, 3 deaths, surgery that left my nerve asleep for up to 2 years and has rendered me more handicapped than I have ever been in my 37 years of being an amputee, and just. so. much. more...

I hate to admit this but I really, really wanted to just give up...twice.  I prayed hard for God to just take me home and stop the pain...yet He didn't.  I was angry, scared, hurting, but mostly I just wanted relief.  I know & have always known that He has plans for me.  Of these plans, I know not.  That I am safe within them, I am certain.  I just couldn't stand under the pressure of all this back-to-back-to-back-to-back.  I couldn't catch my breath between gut punches.

I am ashamed of my prayers during these 2 low points, but I know they didn't surprise God.  He held me close and loved me through them as He stood in the better tomorrows that have come & surely will come.  He knows the balm my heart requires because He knit me together.  Just in time, He sent the answers to my prayers.  No it wasn't relief from the pain or an awakened nerve or anything like that, but it was just as miraculous. 

I used to think I was strong, but I know differently now.  I'm as weak as a kitten.  Thankfully, in my weakness He is strong and He will never leave me nor forsake me.  I'm learning to rest again in His more than capable hands. 

I'm so glad I don't have to be "strong" or "tough" anymore.  I wasn't very good at it anyway. 

© 2011 Mary Hughes Walker

Get Organized!

"For though I am absent from you in body, I am present with you in spirit and delight to see how orderly you are and how firm your faith in Christ is."

Colossians 2:5

Today I was thinking about all the things I can't (or don't) do well.  One of those things is to keep my house orderly.  As many of you know, we home educate our children.  The new school year is about to begin (in 3 days) and I still don't have everything my idea of "ready," so I wondered outloud to God.  His answer to me came by way of a devotional buried in the middle of Colossians. 

I haven't written anything on here in over a year but, I thought this would be a perfect addition.  I can't take credit for this though.  God inspired Emilie Barnes to write this years and years ago.  My desire is that it will help you as much as it has helped me.


From 'A Sense of Order', by Emilie Barnes as printed in the Women's Devotional Bible, Volume 2

"A home [filled with a welcoming spirit] has a sense of order about it.  A sense that people, not possessions, are in charge of the household...that life is proceeding with a purpose and according to an overall plan.

Most of us respond positively to that kind of order in our lives because we are made in the image of God, and because God organized the whole universe to proceed in an orderly fashion.  Think of the creation, when God created a beautiful, populated globe out of the darkness and chaos.  He is the ultimate organizer, and the results of his ordering Spirit are always good.  We automatically feel more comfortable and more welcome when we sense his kind of order in our lives.

On a truly welcoming home, organization takes its proper place in the overall scheme of the universe.  The daily chores of maintenance become something we can glory in, partly because they don't overwhelm us or define our whole existence.

Don't let this talk of order and organization make you feel guilty or panicked.  Even if chaos and clutter in your home and life are wearing you down, the solution is not a whirlwind effort to "get organized."  Unless you begin with the heart, the most complete reorganization of house and home will just give you a clean slate for chaos - and may drive you and everyone else crazy in the process.

We humans weren't made to "get organized."  We were made to live as God's children, worshiping him and delighting in him.  As we open our hearts and attitudes to God, putting him first in our lives and looking to him for guidance, he will show us little ways to organize the chaos and lead a more peaceful, ordered existence.

And it doesn't have to happen all at once.  It has taken me thirty years to develop the systems that help me maintain order...in my life - and I'm still learning."

So rest assured, little hearts, God is not finished with us yet...and His plans are timely and beautiful.

© 2011 Mary Hughes Walker

“You will now see…’

The LORD answered Moses, "Is the LORD's arm too short? You will now see whether or not what I say will come true for you." Numbers 11:23 (NIV – emphasis mine)

The chosen people of God that he had brought out with a mighty outstretched hand from slavery in the midst of Egypt, performing signs & wonders & miracles aplenty are grumbling again. The road is too hard. The food is too meager. Things were better when they were in bondage…sound familiar?

Yet the Lord speaks to Moses. He says to him, “Do you really think, after all I have shown you, that THIS is too much for me? A little meat for a few hundred thousand folks?? Really? Have we just met?”

God showed the people that He doesn’t make idle threats or empty promises. His words are true, righteous and dependable. So stand up & listen. Watch the sky because your answer is coming. But be careful how you ask and how often…He hears you each time. He told you that you are never out of His reach and nothing could separate you from His love. Trust that. And if you have already raised your petition to the throne of grace, stand silent unless you have praise upon your lips.

© 2010 Mary Hughes Walker

True Love Doesn't Just Wait...

“And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him.” 1 John 4:16 (NIV)

True love is something we women all dream about from the very earliest days when we hear of the princess in the tower awaiting the kiss that will set her free; free from loneliness, from the dragon and from death. Always, the concept of true love is something we wait for, whether we wait in a physical tower made of stone or an invisible one made from the troubles of life, we wait for Prince Charming to sweep in & slay the dragon…and set us free. Always we wait. We wait. Wait.

But our True Love doesn’t just wait. He prepares, He proceeds, He provides and He produces. “God showed His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Jesus died for us.”Romans 5:8. True Love is always working toward that goal, setting free the trapped object of His desire. He saw His children in need and He prepared the Way by proceeding to the Cross, providing the Sacrifice and producing a harvest of eternal life for all.

Just like the people of Israel waited for their valiant Messiah to ride in and slay the Roman dragon that kept them enslaved, modern Christians wait for Jesus’ glorious return to slay THE Dragon which causes each of us to stumble, fall and at times to be trampled by our own misplaced longings, unshakeable addictions and unfettered desires. But as the children of God wait, Love is working, always working, on our behalf. Always preparing our way, proceeding to the “great and mighty Day of the Lord” when the Dragon will finally & forever be defeated, providing all our needs according to His riches and producing in us that perfection He promised when we first accepted the call.

So what should we ‘do’ while we wait on the Lord? We are to “live in love”. Not a mushy, feelings-based kind of love, but a serious, action-based kind of love.

Are we offering up our lives daily as living sacrifices? Do we put the needs of others before our own or even before our ‘wants’? How many times do you (or I) say, “I’m tired/busy, I think I’ll call so-and-so tomorrow to check on her.” But that phone call never gets made nor the letter written nor the email sent nor the meal prepared nor the whatever, done…because we just don’t ‘feel’ like it? How many fellow soldiers do we let lie on the battlefield suffering alone because we just need to check facebook one more time? How many times have you been the one struggling alone in your fray and wishing for just one person to step in, stand in that gap for you & shield you from the arrows of the enemy long enough that you can catch your breath, but it was Tuesday night so you knew everyone would be watching [insert random television show here] so you didn’t bother to call, text, message or scream for help?

Our comfort is not the reason Christ died and it is not the thing we should be waiting for Him to produce. Our holiness is most important to God. And not only ours, but our neighbor’s too. The love we share with our fellow folks, who are all made in the image of God, is the offering we make to God, especially the inconvenient love – the kind that costs us something. We should never let a day go by where we don’t have some kind of love offering to present before the Lord.

So I challenge you this night, love somebody. DO something that you don’t ‘want’ to do but know you ‘should’. Turn off the tv, shut down the computer and love your family, your friends, your neighbors. PRAY for your sisters in Christ and for those people that don’t know your True Love…then show Him to them.

You are blessed to be a blessing, not a brat. Don’t just wait, DO something.

© 2010 Mary Hughes Walker. All Rights Reserved.

Happy Harvest time

It's Fall, ya'll. Leaves are turning, wind is chilling and fruit is ripening on the vine. Soon we will celebrate Thanksgiving where we give thanks for all which God has blessed us. But for now, we are bringing in our harvest.

The better part of my day today was spent helping at my church's Fall Festival. We had games, crafts and refreshments for all the anxious tricksters & treat-seekers in our nearby community. I really prefer the homemade outfits to store-bought ones. The imagination & ingenuity that goes into a homemade costume is really quite amazing.

As I watched child after child, parent after parent, come through our doors, I wonder, did I really realize the ripe harvest that the Lord has sown before me? Am I just trying to show them a fun time or am I honestly trying to show them that Jesus loves them and has a plan for them? I sure hope its the latter.

I try to spread His love each day, but I'm afraid my humanity gets in the way at times. I forget that it has little to do with me, really. The Father calls to those that will hear His voice & respond. Blessed little me, once in a while, gets to hold their hand & introduce them. What an awesome thing to do.

If you've heard His voice but never met my Father, I'd love to introduce you. Send me an email, leave a comment or facebook message and I will be thrilled to talk with you. You can also click here to learn more about my Saviour, Jesus.

If you have met Him but have never introduced someone else to Him, I ask, what are you waiting for? People are hurting, people are searching, and you hold the key to their peace. How wonderful to be able to give thanks to God this November for letting you bring one more person to the Marriage Supper of the Lamb?

God is moving all around us. Its time to do our part.

Happy Harvest Time, ya'll.

The "What-if" Game

Do you ever have those times in your life where your mind drifts off at night & awakens again in the morning to the same thoughts? Do you ever have the same theme running through your brain all day, in every conceivable scenario? Do you ever play the "What If" Game?

What if my candidate doesn't get elected?
What if the company lays me off?
What if my child gets sick?
What if they lower the price & we buy and then we lose our jobs?
What if ...

It doesn't really matter what you're 'What if'-ing, the point is, do you spend too much time and energy thinking about things you have no control over & probably will never happen - and if it does, will most likely not happen according to any of the scenarios you've planned out in your mind??? If so, sister - pull up a chair & let's chat. I'm in one of those times right now.

Let's think this through together, shall we?

Let me remind myself of a couple of things:
1. No one sees tomorrow clearer than God. He's standing in it right now and it doesn't scare Him one iota.
2. God works all things for my good because I love God & am called according to His purpose.

Maybe the bottom will fall out tomorrow or maybe the day will tick by uneventful or somewhere in between. Either way God is still going to be God. He's still going to love me and call me His child. His ways are higher than my ways so I will hide in His shadow, rest and be refreshed.

Sounds easy, doesn't it? Well, its not. But it is possible. That's all I need to know.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get to sleep. I have some resting and refreshing to get to. Good night.

Farewell to a dream...again...

Have you ever wanted something so badly that you kept asking God for it, even after you felt He had said, "Not now, my child"?

I am in that same boat today. I want something of which it seems that God has told me "just wait". Oh, I've placed it in His hands numerous times. Then I've walked away with eyes-squinted shut so I wouldn't turn around & rush back to grab it up again. Constantly reassuring myself of the truth that "He makes everything beautiful in its time." Only, quite often I seem to find myself crawling into the room and petting the desire from a crouched position, growing more boldly until I've actually taken it back in my hands & danced around the room with it.

So what to do? How do I wait in quiet contentment? Honestly? I don't know. But for now I am going to think on commendable things and know that God never keeps anything from me that is good for me, without a perfect reason - one I, more than likely, could not possible understand.

So if you are in this group with me, beloved, raise your right hand to your heart, close your eyes and as you unclench the fist you've made over your "something", repeat after me: "Father God, I trust Your sovereignty over ___(whatever you're holding onto)_______. Not my will, but Thy will. Be it unto me according to Your will and my faith. In Your perfect timing, make it all beautiful. Amen"

Now join me as I sing, "Blessed Assurance", for what more do we really need but Jesus?

A Snake in the Suburbs

* This is a story I wrote about the experience with a neighbor and her "little problem". Haha, it was so funny, AFTER the fact, that I thought I'd share it with you.

A Snake in the Suburbs

Last Thursday morning, my neighbor, Kelli, called me. She was a little upset & asked if she could borrow a hoe. It seems she & her 2 year-old son, Jackson, were playing in the backyard & she stepped on a snake. Since her husband was out of town, she was scared & not sure what to do. I mean, we live in a suburb, not the frontier so snakes are not common. Before I could stop myself I had offered to shoot it for her. Thankfully, she declined but asked if I had a hoe. I could find neither a hoe nor the key to the shed so I gathered as many tools of destruction as I could locate & headed next door.

Picture this: my 5 foot, 1 inch (in heels) frame lumbering into a fenced-in backyard carrying an iron-headed rake, youth-size softball bat & pair of long-handled pruning loppers…wait – it gets better… Now, Kelli is a tall, slender, blonde-haired, former 1st grade teacher, maybe 25 years old, from a very sheltered, middle-class family in Marion, AL. She has little Jackson with her on the back patio. She’s pacing back & forth, staring worriedly at the back fence. I drag my “Soccer-mom Arsenal” into her yard & lay out all the would-be weapons on her table as we try to decide which would be the best item to begin the assault. We look at the rake & think the snake might slither between the tines so we set it aside…for now. I have the bright idea that one of us could whack it with the bat & the other could chop its neck with the loppers…but neither of us wanted to get as close to that thing to whack it as would be required with the 2 foot bat (remember, it’s a kids bat). What if we missed & it bit us in the eye? YIKES!

So she decided she’d take a swing at it with the 6 foot long metal-ended rake. I was strategically positioned on the back patio…BEHIND the 2 year old…I hadn’t seen this thing & didn’t have a clue how huge this monster might be. I wasn’t taking ANY chances! She picks up the rake & heads toward the back fence then remembers she has on flip-flops. She thinks it might be a good idea to hide the tootsies so she goes in & gets her tennis shoes. Looking back, I think she was stalling…

Properly shod, she again begins the hunt for the monster of the grasses. She goes to the right & cautiously peers around the slide – its last known whereabouts. No snake. Yay! He’s gone! Wait – NO! What if he’s in the house waiting for her? She keeps looking. She sneaks to the left (on tippy-toes the whole time, mind you) – THERE HE IS! She shakes a little from head-to-toe (so do I – from the patio, behind the toddler, remember), but determined to rid her yard of the unwanted intruder & protect her offspring from a potential attack, she moves in for the kill. She swings – she MISSES! She dances around as if struck by something herself. She regains her composure & swings again – CONTACT! She caught his tail & now he’s TICKED! The snake spins around, strikes out at the iron madness & coils up in the spring-loaded position ready to fend for its life. Kelli tippy-toe dances out of striking range & I see the nasty little serpent strike. I dance on the patio, grabbing the child - strictly for his own protection, you understand…

I yell, “Don’t go back in there! We don’t know how far he can strike & he’s MAD…I can shoot it!” (whatever gave me the idea that I could shoot a slithering, injured & half-crazed snake that was MAYBE 1 inch in diameter???)

She yells, “Are you a good shot?”

“I think so” says I. I mean, I’ve only ever shot inanimate objects on a firing range or in the woods but what’s the difference really, right? Insert nervous-laugh… Did I mention, I’m a genius with nerves of steel? Hang on, that becomes blatantly apparent…

“ok…” she seems to whisper as she backs away from the monster, as if trying not to alert him to our newest plan.

I giggle a little as I scamper home to get a gun. Partly from relief that I am away from that place of death & partly at the idiocy of the suggestion that I would shoot this creature. As I get to my back door I wonder, “What should I use on this thing?” The .22 would be perfect, but it’s in the gun cabinet. I hide the key from thieves that might break in while we are away so, naturally, I have no idea where that hiding place might be… The .380 handgun I keep close to me when I’m home alone crossed my mind & I laughed out loud at the thought. Even in the midst of the wild hysteria, I knew that was a silly thing to use on a snake. I decided to call on my cavalry, Todd (who is conveniently at work, the jerk!), and ask him. He confirms my guess that the .22 would be ideal & tells me it’s loaded with lead-tips in the gun cabinet. Somehow I find the key to the cabinet in the hiding place that I forget about most every other day of my life & obtain the cool steel equalizer. With the wooden stock buried in my armpit so tight it makes popping sounds when I move, the huntress returns to the field…

Now Kelli, is standing on the patio, holding little Jackson & staring absentmindedly in the direction of the last encounter. She seems older now…26, maybe? I walk into the yard & must be a menacing sight indeed, as she furrows her brow a bit & bites at her lip. Probably beside herself with relief that I will obviously vanquish this foe…I see the snake at the fence line & begin to walk toward it. Halfway to the battle site I remember I have to chamber the first round. This buys some time…I run back to the patio & yank on the loading thingy. The first round is ready & there’s no turning back. Crap! Ok, here I go into the fray. I see the snake. He taunts me with his wiggliness. I tell myself that I’m not afraid, but I’m not buying it. I pull the gun up to my eye, sight him in and someone pulls the trigger…BAM! I hit him! What the --?? He whips back & forth. Blood spatters the fence. I tippy-toe dance around like a possessed ballerina screaming & flapping my arms – forgetting there’s a loaded gun at the end of one…

Kelli screams “You got him!” Her eyes bulge with equal doses of fear of the snake & fear of me with a loaded gun. “Is he dead?”

I don’t know so of course I shoot blindly in his general direction 2 more times. Dirt flies around but the snake is not moved. I steady myself & aim again. BLAM! I hit him again…more tippy-toe dancing & arm-flapping. I feel sick to my stomach. I shoot 2 more times. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I feel that will calm me…it doesn’t. Kelli says, “It still moving.” There’s fear in her words, but somehow a rational thought breaks into my mind. Snakes’ nerves move the body around after they are dead. Maybe he’s dead & it’s some kind of corporeal response? I mean, his little head is hanging on by a thread…I stand over the writhing carcass, swallowing hard so I don’t pass out. I aim & shoot one last time. The bullet pushes the snakes neck into the ground so its now staring up at us…More tippy-toe dancing but this time I remember the gun – no arm-flapping. Weak in the knees & about to vomit, I stagger back a little. Kelli comes over now with Jackson. Pointing at the body of our enemy, she tells him how nasty snakes are & reminds him never to play with them. The boy is obviously impressed with my shooting ability because his mouth is agape & he looks from me to the snake then back to me.

Still wiggling a little (his head is staying stuck in the ground) the snake opens its mouth repeatedly. Disgusted, I turn & there is Kelli armed with the rake. Kelli is not convinced that he is dead. She wants to pin it down with the rake & cut off its head. By now the head is chin-up but the body is tummy-down. It’s dead. She goes for the loppers…I faint or something because the next thing I remember I’m on the patio with Jackson. Kelli is there with the bloody loppers. She’s mumbling something about how tough that snake’s skin is. I faint again. I come to standing over the body. I need to sit down.

As I dump the rest of the bullets into my hand we discuss disposal. I tell her Todd threw ours over the fence (did I mention that we had a snake in our backyard last year? We did. Todd didn’t kill it. He threw it over the fence…this is probably the same snake…I want to hurt Todd). She wonders if it will smell. I state that something will come & eat it long before it starts to smell. She is horrified at the idea that whatever comes to eat it may be bigger & meaner & I may come back with another gun. She thinks she’ll put it in a bag & take it to another location in our neighborhood where they are building more houses. Rewind! Did you hear that? She is going to PUT IT IN A BAG & PUT THE BAG IN HER CAR - WHAT??!! I just risked life & what’s left of my limbs to kill this thing & now she’s going to take it for a little scenic drive in the country? I get woozy again. I gather my yard implements & sporting gear. I need a drink.

As I walk away, we are laughing uncontrollably by now. About to wet myself from fear, mingled with pride, relief & horror at the whole thing, I head home. Kelli, yells out behind me, “Mary you’re my hero!” Then we break down laughing again…Where is a camcorder when you need one?

© 2008 Mary Hughes Walker

Is Mercy ever wasted?

Today started out poorly. I hadn't slept well the night before & had to get up earlier than I had wanted to in order to run an errand I should've already run, before I had to be at the church for the Prayer Breakfast. Then, beauty maintenance, grocery shopping, baking & icing the cupcakes & cake for Kimber's party - not to mention the filthy house that needed some attention...I was grumpy...and beat down from another week of failing to be the person, wife, mother, daughter, sister & friend I so wanted to be.

Then Dr. Jay Robertson spoke at our prayer breakfast. And something he said, set off the huge storm of pent-up emotions that had been boiling just underneath the surface, casting dark shadows over everything...even my prayer time. He said, "Christ's authority does not depend on who you are." Wow. I don't know why that spoke to me so powerfully but it was the last piece in the puzzle I needed to begin to see the picture that would one day be completed.

It's not about me. Funny, I had thought all my strivings had been for God's glory. In reality though, most were for my own glory, to be recognized by man. And when that didn't happen, I felt I had failed God and I should change something else about me. This cycle left me easily frustrated, critical, grumpy and down-right no-fun-to-be-around most of the time.

"If people don't like me, then how can God?" How many times did I repeat that to myself? So many I lose count. I was gauging my relationship with God on how other people, like my grandmother, my mother, my brother, responded to me. If I could just be what they need me to be then God could use me.

Today that argument shattered on the sanctuary floor in a pool of my own tears. Instead of relief, I was reminded instead of a promise I had made so many years ago, a vow I had made to God and had never fulfilled. I was mortified at the thought that I had kept God waiting on me while I tried to please these people, who are struggling themselves through their own trials. And when I came face-to-face with my own self-absorbed need to be heard and understood, I was sickened.

What do I have of value to say, but Christ and Him crucified? And who am I that people should listen except to hear His words? Why would He have spent so much time on me in such great and mighty ways, for me to wallow in my own self-pity?

So many missed opportunities.

So many misspent years.

So many wasted mercies.

Whatever I do from this day forward will be to take each step as God directs and fulfill that promise that He allowed me to make (because it was He who prompted me to make it). I don't know how, but I know I must.

It is His will. I am His child. And this is my worship.

35 years...wow...

May 8, 1974, an 18 month old girl child climbed onto a boat, pulling on a detached gas line for leverage. Gas ran onto the concrete slab floor & close enough to the gas operated hot-water heater that the flame ignited the fumes. Up went the frail wooden structure with its tiny treasure hidden inside.

The fire raged; everything in its path was consumed. The child screamed. Her father frantically chopped at the wall, stuck his hands into the blazing hole, called her name & held his breath. Somewhere from the depths, the girl child emerged. Her father grabbed her and she rested, no longer afraid.

Rushing from the yard, the man desperately clung to the child, not knowing what to do or where to go. A woman came to him and spoke, "I am a nurse. You have to pack her in ice or her body will explode." Reaching a neighbor's door, he begged for a tub and ice - lots of ice. The streets were lined with neighbors bringing their freezers' contents to the neighbor's yard to pour over the child as requested. The man turned to thank the woman that had spoken the instructions he needed to hear...but she was gone...and no one else had seen her...

At the hospital, a doctor spoke. "We'll keep her comfortable, Mr. Hughes, but she's burned too badly. I'm afraid there's no chance to save your daughter." But what do doctor's really know anyway?

May 8, 2009, the girl child, now a woman, sits at her computer, typing out this blog. She has had a day unremarkable to most but in her heart she has rejoiced. Woman, wife and mother, everything she was never supposed to be, she has become.

So many people have commented on how tough it must have been being burned or crippled. And yet, she knows the secret. The scars, the missing limb, the physical pain really were nothing. What would they say if they knew those scars saved her life? Those years in & out of the hospital were the best part of her young life and when they were gone, she was lost.

Though the years were not kind, scars, amputation, abuse and neglect, by God's sovereign grace...she still stands. As she tucks her own tiny girl children into bed, she brushes back a tear and her heart whispers, "Thank you, God. Thank you for the fire."