“Greeting on a Sunday Morning”

Do you find yourself sometimes yearning to do “BIG things” for God?   I have.  Over the years though, I’ve found that it is never what “we do for God” but rather, “what He longs to do through us.”   This helps me relax a bit, and realize that I’m to just stay close in my walk with the Lord, and allow Him to orchestrate my steps and my circumstances. 

The verse that follows has refreshed my mind and attitude about daily living.   God encourages us to trust Him to where He will orchestrate our steps.  We never need to put ourselves “out there,” nor to manipulate our way into situations or platforms of service.   God is the One who is in charge of all that.   For me it has meant many times that I must relinquish the “driver’s license” of my own life, and get in the back seat of the car (so-to-speak), and allow Him to be in control of my life. 

Years ago when I was teaching a Bible Study I remember encouraging the ladies to relax regarding social situations and gatherings where “you haven’t been invited.”   If God wants us at a particular gathering, we’ll get invited.   Otherwise, we aren’t meant to be at the event.   What peace it is to know that He knows where He wants us to be and when.  May I invite you to spend just fifteen minutes “pondering the verse below” and see how that might look in your day-to-day experience

       Proverbs 4:26   “Ponder the path of your feet and let all your ways be established.” 

At first this real life story begins in such an “ordinary way.”   But with God, He takes our “ordinary” and makes it “extraordinary”.  I love greeting people at church on Sunday.   I mean that.   Every Sunday morning I can’t wait to arrive and stand at the door to welcome anyone and everyone coming through the doors.   On any given Sunday I had the privilege of saying good morning and smiling to about 300 people.  I just LOVED being there at the reception area to welcome each person.  There are a variety of reasons why I personally feel that greeting others is an important ministry.  In fact, I’d even say critical. 

My husband and I have attended many churches through God’s direction, and we’ve been to churches where you can walk in and walk out and never have any personal contact, either verbally,  with a smile, or even eye contact.  Naturally, we are drawn to those we know, and feel comfortable with.  But greeting others brings me out of my comfort zone and into the “moment of relational love” on behalf of our Lord Jesus towards every person that comes through the doors.

Often God encourages me to “Dianne, leave yourself in the car, and go in and represent Me to every heart coming through those doors.” Each handshake can be a prayer for that person.   After people see that we are friendly and available each week to greet them, many people will linger momentarily for a warm handshake, a smile, and an acknowledgement that they are so special to God.  This is a way that He would welcome them, through these little personal ways, letting them know that He is “so glad they have come to worship Him and learn about Him.”

There are two precious encounters I want to share with you.  I woke up this particular Sunday morning in a not-so-good frame of mind.  I just didn’t feel like welcoming that Sunday.  Another way of phrasing this is that I didn’t feel like smiling that morning. 

Ever feel that way yourself?  But, thanks to the prompting of the Lord, I went to church anyway.  There was a widow who arrived and I always feel they need a special touch or hug.  This morning as this lady approached me, I gave her a hug…and then…pulled her close again for a longer embrace.  Afterwards she looked at me and said these words:  “Dianne, I needed that this morning.  You are the only one who touches me all week.”

This has made a real impact on me for life.   Cell phones and texting can be very helpful, but how many times have we been in a restaurant and everyone at the table is firmly gripping their cell phones and not in conversation with anyone at their table.   I want to scream at those times because people are forgetting and neglecting to actually look into the eyes of another person and have real conversation.

Greeting people coming through the doors of our church in a small caring way is an incredible tool for sharing the love of Christ.  We never know the burdens, anxieties, cares and grief that are encased in each person entering the doors.   Let’s stop asking others “How are you?” if we don’t stick around to listen to their response.

The other encounter took place very early one Sunday.  A young Asian woman entered the reception area with her daughter.  She was very friendly and outgoing herself.   She seemed new, so I asked her how long she had been coming on Sundays.  This was her first Sunday at this particular church.  Before long we were in an engaging conversation about Christianity.   I shared that I was delighted to have met her and made a comment about being so friendly, and that perhaps she would enjoy standing with me to welcome others.   To my amazement, she stood across from me and began “helloing” everyone (I know that’s not a word, but it should be!)   She was marvellous in her friendly approach to others.   

Over the weeks we both began feeling very comfortable with each other and as time passed, she began to open up about her life, her hurts, and her struggles.   She shared that she didn’t believe in God.  Each time she shared about her life, the Lord seemed to give me illustrations and stories to share with her that brought another perspective to her struggles and questions.  This woman slowly began to ask questions about why she was born and what was the purpose in living.  These are questions we have all had.

This adventure of the two of us greeting went on for over a year.  We have moved to another church in the area, but we kept in contact with this gal and her daughter.

Another year went by and she phoned to tell me she had given her life to Jesus Christ and was attending a Bible Study to help her learn more about how to have a walk with her Lord.    Several months went by and she phoned to invite my husband and I to attend her baptism.   This baptism was a public declaration of an internal decision to follow the Lord in her life.

To honor her, and God’s work in her life, I want to share just a portion of her testimony.

            “Through daily prayer and having a quiet time with God, I poured out myself to Him.  I then pray, “Dear Father God, You created me.  You will see me through.  You will show me the way to solve all my troubles and grant all my needs in a timely manner.  Such feeling was similar to having a warm and mighty pair of hands upholding me at the back and protecting me.  Thank the Lord that He removed my self-sufficiency, so that I could only depend on Him to solve my problems.  Slowly I’m learning to trust Him and humbly submit myself to Him and forsake my self-righteousness and pride.”

What began on an ordinary Sunday, God used me to introduce her to the personal love of Christ for her.  Greeting each person is a tremendous joy, because in the manner in which we greet each individual, we have the opportunity to express to them that they are “significant to God.”   People need to know that before they ever sit down in the sanctuary, that they’ve been touched by His love and acceptance.

“People may forget what you teach, but they will never forget how you made them feel.”  William Buechner

Whether it’s in a church setting, social gathering or new in the neighborhood, let’s be the first to “say hello” to others and make them feel welcome.

Have you ever been invited to join friends for a lovely late afternoon dinner on an island?   Up to this point, my response would have been no.   Not many of our friends have a boat.  Many have little boats that you play with while soaking in the tub, but most of them would never admit to engaging in this style of yachting. 

We had some dear friends who wanted us to join them “on water” and our destination was to be Orcas Island.  That island paradise is host to a beautiful restaurant and hotel.   Now this was our anticipated destination.

Arrangements were made, and a time all set up to meet them at a particular “dock” location.   We were thrilled to be invited and join them in this adventure.   It’s important to embrace the word “adventure” because this word will be reappearing later in my story.

I’m not exactly thrilled about boats, and even less enthusiastic about water.  I don’t mind the bathtub or water that doesn’t exceed three feet in depth.  My husband assured me of the skill and experience of our friend.  He had owned and operated many a boat in his life, and this water adventure would prove to be a delightful two and a half-hour pleasure-trip to this beautifully landscaped island.  Just the scenic trip in itself would be a thrilling experience, not to mention a delightful early dinner.

As my husband was waxing eloquent about the safety features of this 26 foot Bayliner, and he assured me that the captain (our friend) of this excursion was trustworthy, competent and experienced.   What could go wrong???  My mind immediately went into protective mode.  All that was on my mind was are there sufficient safety jackets, how deep is the water where we would be sailing through, and how long would this “cruise” take?

The long-awaited day arrived and we happily went aboard this beautiful boat.   The wife of this man gave us a grand tour that lasted about two minutes.   I mean how long does it take to locate everything on a 26’ boat?  My only concern was the “ladies room.”  It wasn’t large, but sufficient to meet the needs of all on board.

At this point, I’m very relaxed and enjoying their company, the friendship, and the comforts of this pleasure craft.  Bear in mind, we haven’t left the dock yet, but we are on the water. 

If I remember correctly, our friend assured us that he had checked the gas gauge and everything was in order.   Now, this detail is important to remember.   He had announced that his boat had a full tank of gas!

We’ve now pulled out of the dock and into the waters.   After cruising along on a lovely sunny afternoon, we noticed the island and could now see the restaurant off in the distance.  I’m thinking, this is great!  I can be OFF THIS BOAT in twenty minutes and on LAND.

Now this is where the story begins to unravel!   Do you recognize the sounds that come from an “empty tank?”   It’s like a sputter, oozing of air, and then nothing.   This was our next encounter.  We wondered what in the world happened.  After all, he had a full tank of gas and the route he took us on wouldn’t have used half that amount.  

After a few umms and awws, he announced the apparent condition of the gas tank.  It was empty!

Panic attacks have not been the history of any of my physical challenges, but one was about to emerge before my very eyes.  I remember my eyes enlarging like boulders and my heart beginning to race.    He assured us, all would be well.   I like this guy, but at that moment my faith in his ability went out the window, or more appropriately, it went “overboard.”

Let me give you an idea of our immediate location.  We were in over 600 feet of deep water and there wasn’t a single boat in our area.  You know how a voice travels loudly over water don’t you?   Well, even a scream wouldn’t have drawn attention at this point.

Now, it’s time to call on the Lord!   I grabbed the arm of his wife and we both prayed.  We informed the Lord of our location (as if He didn’t know), we got detailed in the length of time we had been delayed “in this water area,” the depth of the water, and the fact that we were alone in this spot with no one to help or call out to.   I could hardly get an amen out at this point.

I mentally reviewed the scripture that God will meet our every need, and WE WERE IN NEED.    There was nothing we could do but “be still…..and wait.”    I kept rehearsing the dialogue we had with our Lord to keep me focused.   I hadn’t forgot what we were asking of Him, and my little prayer review kept me focused. 

We never know when or how God is going to answer our prayers, but He always responds in the best way and for His glory.  Believe me there would be no taking personal credit for any positive result in this scenario.

About 25 minutes later, the grandest thing happened.  Another boat just appeared from out of nowhere it seemed.   I know it didn’t drop from the sky, but it appeared and our hearts began to pump again.    We yelled out for help and he responded by motoring our way.   He had a great idea to extend a rope to our boat and he would tow us into the harbor.  This didn’t take more than 20 minutes or so.   We just rejoiced!    His wife and I shared how we had talked to the Lord and asked for Him to send help.   And HE DID!

We exited the boat, went to the restaurant for a very late dinner.  But by the time we got back into the area where the boat was moored it was too late to obtain gas.   I can’t explain that, but the facts were that it was too late to purchase gas.  We would now need to spend the night “on this floating hotel.”

I am about to experience a real night on a boat.  This is all new to me.  I’m not even a fan of cruises, I haven’t been on one, and so you’ll know where I’m coming from.   Accommodations for sleeping were great.  We each went to our little bedroom facility and cuddled in for the night.   Then it began…….the lapping of the small waves alongside the boat.   It was like sleeping next to a Big Ben clock.  You know what I mean, you hear every tick of the chimes and the movements of the clock, and then anticipate the quarter hour, half hour and hourly chimes.  I couldn’t sleep as I kept anticipating the next current of waves against the boat.

Somewhere between four and five in the morning I fell asleep, only to be woken early so we could purchase some gas and fill up the tank.    I was so weary that I think they could have pulled me along on a tugboat and I would have slept right through the event, noise and all.

Now there are three morals in the story.   Number one, make sure your gas gauge works properly and accurately reflects the amount of gasoline it can hold, then triple check your tank to make sure it is, in fact full, and most importantly, always remember that if you belong to the Lord, He is the One to “Call on and look to” for help.

It’s time for a huge chuckle.  So set your funny bone in place and prepare for hysterical laughter from this true event.   It’s been a long time since this scenario took place, but I remember it as though it happened last week. 

My husband and I hadn’t been married but a few months.  He was born in Scotland and grew up in New Zealand.   Now those cultures are a bit different from the culture in the United States.  Many times people will use the phrase, “Next time you’re in our area, stop by.”   I’ve found that it is used rather frequently, but not always sincerely spoken. 

My husband travelled extensively in the country of New Zealand and met many lovely people over the years.   He was now married only a few months, but word spread that he and his wife were now living in Canada.  The English and Scottish cultures were accustomed to being very hospitable.   My husband would share with me that he would often be bringing home kids from school at various hours and his Mom always had biscuits or a dinner in-the-making ready to share with anyone.   I would refer to these visitors as “drop ins.”    There were no rules or understanding about calling first and seeing if it was convenient

Knowing him, he would have shared with most all the people he visited that if they were ever in our area, “please come and stay.” 

Well I think this is sufficient information for you prior to reading the following occurences.

We hadn’t been married more than three months when our “drop ins” (I mean visitors) began arriving.    The phone would ring, and it didn’t take an interpreter to ascertain the accents on the other end of the telephone.   It would be a New Zealand accent, for sure.  My general response upon answering the phone was, “Are you at the airport, or bus depot?  Sometimes their response would be “No, but we are leaving for the airport tomorrow and wondered if you would be home for the next week or so?”

This new adventure-call came in the late afternoon.   My husband answered the phone and voila, visitors from New Zealand.    I can’t count the number of couples we had enjoyed having prior to this call, so I was beginning to adjust to on-the-call visitors.    I could surmise by the conversation, that they had already “arrived” and were hoping for transportation from the airport to the local hotel (our home). 

All was going according to plan in response to the recent call-in agenda, and we got into the car and headed for the airport.   There wasn’t much conversation between my husband and I, and I wondered if there was more to this pick-up routine than expected.  Was there ever!!!!!

“There’s something I need to tell you, were my husband’s warning words.”   “What’s wrong, or what do I need to know?” I inquired.   Then the penny dropped, so-to-speak.    My husband proceeded to tell me about our arriving house guests and how I should “properly address” the couple who would be arriving.    The man should be addressed as Sir Peter Tait and his wife would be respond to Lady Tait.   In the last few minutes of our excursion to the airport my husband told me that he had been knighted by Queen Elizabeth II.   This couples’ soon-to-be accommodation was our very small home, three tiny bedrooms and the only red carpet would be a tiny red throw rug. 

Has your chin dropped to the floor yet?   I mean, how would you be feeling with this up-to-the-minute news flash?   At this point, I couldn’t even answer.   And even if I tried to, at this point we were pulling into the airport.  He said they were very nice people and he thought they would be easy to have for a few days.

As I’m recalling this new adventure, I’m smiling from ear to ear as I know how the events took a joyful turn.  As I think about it now, at the time, I thought about having a nervous breakdown on receiving my husband’s instructions, but in that we were on our way to our local airport, there just wasn’t time.   (Laughter!)

We pulled up at the arrivals and it took no time to see a pair of hands waving enthusiastically toward our direction.   They were waiting patiently at curbside for their concierge service.   They were very friendly, and most appreciative that we would be delighted to have them for part of their vacation in Canada, specifically, our home for a week.

Attentive to my on-the-way-to-the-airport instructions about how to greet them…..yes, Sir Peter and Lady Tait.  Got it!     After our hello hugs to greet them, I began addressing them in the proper manner.   Sir Peter and Lady Tait.   It took less than two seconds to  be told to call them Pete and Lil from then on.  That was the etiquette they wanted.

Everything was going well and I was able to throw together an evening dinner and they had an early-to-bed evening.    The following morning, Lady Tait, or Lillian as I began calling her, arose and came out for breakfast.   Her hair wasn’t exactly in perfect location all over her head.   She had a wonderful sense of humor and we laughed at the mountain peaks her hair was in.  As we both laughed, I made the comment that I always enjoyed coiffuring, shall we say, other peoples’ hair.  In other words, I enjoy putting friends’ hair in rollers, parking them under a dryer, and styling their hair.   I felt safe enough to ask her if she wanted me to work with her mountain hair peaks.   She couldn’t blurt out the affirmative fast enough.

So, after breakfast, Lady Tait and her new hairdresser went to work.  We laughed and carried on like two little school girls, and when it was all over (but the shouting), she looked gorgeous and felt grateful.   I was so thrilled that she allowed me this privilege of getting up close and personal to this member of royalty.

This couple visited us on a regular basis throughout the years, and  I remember they stayed in almost every home we lived in for the next number of years.  They even brought other couples with them.  It was a joy and delight to learn the lesson again and again to JUST BE YOURSELF, and to LOVE THOSE GOD BRINGS INTO YOUR HOME.

They are both at home with Jesus now.  But I shall look forward to seeing them in heaven and reuniting with such fun and down-to-earth people.

I think too that we should treat everyone who enters our homes like ROYALTY….because everyone needs to know they “are special”………….. because God Himself designed them.

Now……….when are YOU coming to our home?????

This story will introduce two secret fears I’ve experienced over and over in my life. Prepare yourself for a chuckle on this one even before we get started.   My fear was my sewing machine.   Now I realize that sewing machines are tools.  They don’t speak, they don’t sing and they don’t throw tantrums.  They’re not designed to rip us off.  They are designed to pull fabric together in a beautiful, tight-stitch way that when appropriately sewn, would provide something lovely to wear, adorn a window, or beautify a place in your home.

But in order for a sewing machine to be effective and efficient in operation, it first requires a human agent to lift it out of its case, plug it into the electrical outlet, turn on the switch, and then proceed with material at hand.  

Now, my challenge is not in lifting the machine out of the case, plugging it into the outlet, or turning it on.  My “fear challenge” is not only working with the material in such a way that it proceeds through the needle pathway in a straight direction, but that when I’m finished with interpreting the details indicated on the sheet of directions, that it all comes together in such a way that the finished product can either be worn, or displayed in some fashion.    My experience lacks both accomplishments.

In high school I took a leap of faith and signed up for a “sewing class.”   If it hadn’t been for the teacher working with me step-by-step and moment-by-moment, I never would have never finished the dress.    And for those interested, I never wore that dress in public….ever!   It was navy blue trimmed with a white color, and the only place it adorned later in its life was the trash can.

At this point I need to express my other fear.  It’s the fear of “directions.”    This fear has progressed into other areas of my thinking.   Whenever someone says to me, “just read the directions,” I simply and silently freeze up in my mind.

Before you begin your laughter and finger-pointing, let me ask you….”when was the last time you read instructions on putting together a bicycle, or figuring out computer directions.”   Need I say anything further?   

Let’s be honest, I’d love to meet some of the people who write these, so-called, user-friendly directions.   After reading certain instructions, my first question is “why don’t they just speak plain English?”

Before continuing with my saga…..I must share a dear friend’s attitude about learning skills on the computer.    She feels the same about computer instructions as I do, and to quote her, “She doesn’t have what you’d call a friendship with her computer, but they are at least on speaking terms.”  

I wasn’t even on speaking terms with my sewing machine.    Her husband purchased a nice new sewing machine for her.   As her husband was bringing the machine into the house, their ten year old son noticed the new arrival and blurted out, “Oh Dad, don’t take that in the house, she’ll kill herself with it.”

In that you now are on the same page of understanding with me regarding one of my fears, let me share the other sewing fear that corresponds to this sewing machine story.  This second fear is how to place the material under the needle and move it along in such a way that the finished stitches are in a straight line.    I’ve had many unsuccessful attempts at this; thus, my sewing machine went into retirement (the closet) for a long, long time.

Many years ago I was in the home of three dear friends.  The common “thread” (funny that I should use the word) in each of their homes was the fact that their window coverings were all “handmade” shall we say.   All of them were a gorgeous display around the window casings.

One morning, as I was doing one of my favorite things (sipping tea from a fine china cup), I asked the friend I was with about her drapes (or window coverings as I call them).    She proceeded to share how one would go about making them yourself.   I was keen to take in every instructional detail.   At the end of this “instructional dissertation,” my mind went to tilt.   In other words, everything she shared seemed to evaporate from my head.  

A few weeks later, another friend invited me to her home for tea.  She invited me to her kitchen table as she prepared her luscious and fragrant tea.   There in front of me were some lovely scalloped curtains.   I couldn’t help but notice how straight they hung, and I even got a glimpse of the stitches.   They were lined up like little stringed soldiers….in perfect alignment. 

By now you’ll surmise the conversation that was about to take place.   My friend served the tea and I began complimenting her on her lovely fabric and the design of the window covering before me.    Her immediate response was that she had made them.  

Now I’m thinking, I’ve got some clever friends in my life, and here was another one who was talented in that arena.

I shared my “fear challenge” about directions and she was prompt to tell me that she didn’t use a pattern.    What?  No pattern?  No instructions?   I was now more than interested in what she had to say.   When she finished sharing “her instructions,” I thought to myself, “Hey, I might be willing to try.”

After the tea party in her kitchen I went home, and the first thing I did was pray.   Yes, I spoke with the Lord (who is interested in every detail of our lives) and asked that He would send someone along to help me not only interpret a pattern’s instruction sheet, but help me learn how to sew a straight stitch.

You’re going to love to see how this adventure ends!!!!!!!!!

Within a few weeks, I was in another friend’s home and guess what?    Her window coverings jumped right out at me and told me to take notice and ask questions.   I was prompt to obey my inner admonition.   My friend was fabulous in sharing how she had made the ones I was admiring and told me how I could make them.

Truth time!   I shared my fears with her and she encouraged me that I could learn how to sew, and that if I was willing, she would work with me in the process.    At that point I don’t think she was fully aware of what that process would involve.   It would require a great amount of patience and a sense of humor to get me through.

She was just the “one” God sent my way in answer to my prayer requesting help in walking me through the steps of sewing a beautiful window covering.

This friend was so encouraging and more than on-board with wanting to help me.   We made arrangements to spend an “entire day” buying the fabric, measuring the patio window (that was currently bald of fabric), introducing me to my sewing machine and completing the project of a lovely hunter green window covering.

She realized my fear, so her suggestion was to purchase a flat twin sheet (hunter green in color to go with the color scheme in our home) and make a curtain out of that fabric instead of spending money on an expensive fabric.   Smart choice I thought.  After all, if I ruined it, it would only be a few dollars down the tube.

After a lengthy, but fairly simplistic explanation of what we were going to attempt, I felt enthusiastic about trying.

The trick about sewing a straight stitch was incredible.   I would imagine that most of you reading this story are fully aware of the idea.   But we used a piece of masking tape and placed it in the area to the right of the needle in the location that measured out the width the stitch should be sewn at.   Then all I had to do was place the edge of the material along the tape, and voila…..a straight stitch.

This friend was a “gift” to me from the Lord.   She had four children she had to make arrangements and provide for so she could spend that 8 hours with me.   Yes, we finished the valence.   I called them “poofs” at the time.  They were gorgeous, and I was grateful.

That has been over 20 years ago and since that time, and my sewing has gone from a simple valence, to long and fabric-lined drapes.  I’ve even shown others how to make some elegant window coverings without using a pattern.   For some, reading and interpreting instructions seem easy, for others, it is not.   And I’m in the “not category.”

The lessons I learned from that friend about sewing and creativity with fabric, really isn’t as important as the principles and people behind it all.   Firstly, God!   He is the One who helped me want to deal with my two practical fears; and then, He orchestrated my steps to a dear person who wanted to make herself available to Him to use in another person’s life.

There are two words that bring have shown me about their value.  They are “ordinary” and “availability.”   God loves both and uses both in our lives.  If we are willing to get in line with God’s activity in our life journey, He can bring others along our life’s path and bless “them” through us.

Sewing is an ordinary activity!   But availability on the part of my friend was crucial.   She was sensitive to God and to the fact that one of His kids wanted to learn to sew.   Another quality that expressed itself through her, was not only availability, but that she sacrificed her precious family time for me.

My friend, and you know who you are, thank you for being “my teacher and mentor” in this practical area.   Every time I look at a beautiful drapery fabric, or a twin flat sheet, I think and give thanks to the Lord for using you in my life in such a dear and practical way.   Even to this day, as my eye may catch a glimpse at a pretty window treatment, I give thanks to the Lord and think of you.

Her famous words to me regarding creativity with fabric are:

                   LET ‘ER RIP …and don’t be afraid to create.

My prayer is that God would “help me see” the ordinary opportunities He presents to me, and that I would be available to be used….even when maybe it’s not convenient.  I think that’s called sacrificial.

                       ORDINARY  –  AVAILABLE  –  SACRIFICIAL

Lord, may these qualities be woven by You into my character that my life may be a blessing to others.   Amen

We enjoy having people over for dinner!   It may take place in the backyard, kitchen or dining room, but wherever we’re seated, we can be sure of laughter being part of the experience.

This event turned out so surprisingly that I just had to share what transpired.  I seldom remember what we serve people to eat, but on this occasion I tried a new way to serve vegetables.  Rather than place the various vegetables in separate dishes, I made a platter of them.   I placed the cauliflower, dripping with cheese sauce in the center, and I placed some other veggies around it.  It’s an amazing trick I learned from one of my friends.   It not only looks attractive, it also gives the appearance of an abundance of food.   And on this evening, that was important.   Just for the record, the main entrée was roast pork.

We had invited a couple over for dinner that were visiting in the southern California area.   My husband had done some consulting work for this individual who was the president of a Christian University in Canada, but I had never met he or his wife, so this was our first time socially, and we were anxious to see them and enjoy the evening together.  This evening I had set a lovely table in the dining room.   I was just adding a few touches to the table, when my husband noticed their arrival in front of our home.  All was ready just to pull out of the oven, so I was in good shape.

“There’s more coming, he exclaimed.”  What?  We had invited two, how could there be more than that.   “They brought their three teenage children!”   From the moment those words proceeded out of my husband’s vocal chords, I flew through the kitchen for three more plates and utensils.   I can’t remember the speed in which I rearranged the place settings on the table and shoved three more dishes and cuttlery in place.   

As I’m feverishly moving items in place, my husband is giving me an up-to-the-second arrival schedule.   When the doorbell rang, I was out of breath.   In walked this couple with their three teenage children.   They’re a lovely family and we were pleased to have them all, but how could I have made such a numerical blunder.

Everyone was greeted and made their way to the dining table.  I’m still processing more oxygen to get the roast and veggies out of the oven.   I can honestly say that the new idea of the veggies on the platter was a hit for the unexpected additional arrivals.

The conversation around the table was full of laughter with the update about their lives and ours.   When dessert was served I brought out a pecan pie.   My husband was pouring the tea and I began the slicing event of 7 pieces of pie, one for each guest.   And you’ll never believe it, but there was one piece left.  

I can’t remember how the topic came up, but we finally let the cat out of the bag about not realizing their children would be coming with them to our home.   You could hear the gasps from all of them, but we soon assured them of their welcome.   By this time we were all laughing “uncontrollably” about the situation.   Then I glanced over at the lonely piece of pie remaining.  I lost all sense of appropriateness and grabbed the pie dish, and began passing it to the person on my left indicating that we were all going to get involved in eating this last piece of pie.   We were still laughing about the situation.  

Even today, when I serve a pork roast to guests, my mind goes back to the evening when more came to dinner than were ever expected.   It brings a chuckle to my heart even as I write about it today.

So, I guess the moral of the story is that when you invite guests, it never hurts to have an abundance of veggies and bread and butter just in case more show up as an unexpected, but delightful surprise.

This couple became dear friends through the years and we would often look back with laughter at the wonderful surprise God had in store for my husband and I that evening.   This dinner event taught me to welcome “whoever” walks through the door of our home, and that you can serve crackers and cheese, or a full dinner to them.   It doesn’t matter the cuisine, but the love with which it’s served.    Laughter accompanied our dessert that evening and secured a loving and lasting relationship with them all.

We weren’t able to have children of our own, so we delight in investing our time, hearts and effort into other peoples’ kids.   For some reason I was drawn to a group of boys and girls at church that were in the fifth grade.   They were active and inquisitive, and I loved being around them.

On Sundays, I was invited to teach the Bible to that age group.  All of them were pretty outgoing and bright as buttons.   My passion is sharing not only the truths of the Scriptures, but thinking of ways to bring alive the application into the shoe-leather of living.

I remember the time we were talking about prayer and the privilege of sharing in conversation with the Lord our needs and the needs of others.   There are many aspects of prayer that are so practical.   I’ve discovered that in teaching children, if we can use a variety of ways of sharing truths through objects that touch their five senses (smell, touch, sight, hearing, and taste), they find it much easier to remember the story.

Drawing is not an ability I have, but straight lines I can handle.   I drew a very large ice cream “cone” that was about three feet high, and each week I would put together a 12” circle made from various colors of construction paper.   These round circles represented flavors on the cone.  On each flavor-color, I would write out a different characteristic of prayer. 

On another occasion we studied God’s parting of the Red Sea.   I took an 8 x 13” glass dish lining half of the dish with plastic wrap, and I poured one cup of red liquid jello into one side of the dish, bringing the plastic wrap over to hold it in place.  Then I did the same thing on the other side of the long dish.  After allowing the jello to firm up overnight I took the dish of jello to class the following morning.  Everyone gathered around the jello, I mean my Red Sea, to listen to the details of this event.

Then, we circled around the 8 x l3 glass sea of red jello, and I would pull back the siran wrap and they could see the “jello sea” parting.    In our interaction after the illustration, we cut up the red sea and ate it.    My prayer was that every time they ate red jello, they would be reminded what God did for His people.

Another week we covered the event of God destroying the walls of Jericho for His people.  We would really delve into the details of God’s instructions that He gave His people.  They were to walk around Jericho once a day for six days, with no conversation.  Then on the seventh day, they were to walk around the city seven times, again with no one talking.  Then as they completed their instructions on the seventh round of the city, they observed the miracle of God bringing down those walls with just a shout from the crowd. 

 It was a wonderful teaching tool to show the young people the importance of “obedience,” because there was a time or two in their parade around the room, where some were making comments and I shared that if they wanted to experience the obedience of God’s instructions, they needed to be absolutely quiet.

By now you’re wondering where the popcorn and pancakes comes into this story.   Later that year, I made arrangements with the parents to allow their sons and daughters to come to our home for an overnight “slumber party.”  The event was overwhelmingly chaperoned by my husband and I.   Each child brought their own sleeping bag, pillow and pajamas.   The cuisine that evening consisted of hot dogs and chips. 

Before bedtime, we sat around munching buttered popcorn.  I don’t think I sat down all evening, but the joy and laughter that filled our home that evening was sweet.  Our home was loaded with about nine Red Sea students, boys in the family room and girls in the living room all preparing to get horizontal for a night’s sleep.   To our surprise they calmed down at a decent hour.  I think they were so full of hot dogs they couldn’t move.

I set my alarm for an early hour, and made my way to the kitchen.  The aroma of bacon frying woke everyone up.  They all took turns dressing in the bathroom and promptly joined me in the kitchen.  Paper plates were the best call of the day, and various kids were helping set the table and pouring orange juice as every skillet I owned was being loaded down with pancakes.   They ate every last pancake. 

After breakfast all of the parents arrived to take their children home.  I was ready for another night’s sleep by this time, but we had a wonderful time together.  

About 15 years later, one of the students came to our home in Washington State for a visit.  She was all grown up and in university by now.  We loved sharing and hearing about her life and how God had been weaving the strands of experience to build her into a lovely young woman.   

At one point of the evening she shared with us her memory of the sleepover at our home and the popcorn and pancakes.  It was a wonderful memory for her and the others being loved on in such a fun way.

I had no idea that this event seemed so important to her as well as to the others.   I gravitate to the practical things of life anyway, but this memory holds tender thoughts and the recognition that you don’t have to spend a lot of money to let a child know that they are loved!

Doesn’t life offer numerous opportunities to learn “flexibility?”   My temperament doesn’t adjust rapidly to “go with the flow.”    My system fights that upstream living.   So I’m always in class learning from the Lord how to go with His agenda, instead of mine.   He certainly has surprises in the turns of our journey.

At this particular time of our marriage I was working full-time, so time and energy had to be carefully managed.   I arrived home early this particular evening and about an hour before dinner. Not long after, the telephone rang.   The excited voice on the other end of the line was my husband announcing that we would be hosting a friend for dinner.   Did you notice that he used the word “we?”   I yet find that humorous because he was nowhere within miles of the kitchen in which this dinner would be prepared.

We had met this young single gal at our church and numerous times during our interaction with her, we offered hospitality on a come-as-you-are basis.    I now understand that to mean, you come as you are, and on that basis, we’ll share whatever is the freshest in the fridge.

My husband’s announcement caught me off guard.  My mind immediately went into gear as to what in the world I was going to prepare for this quick invite.   There wasn’t the time or the energy to rustle up a casserole, and steaks were seldom in our freezer zone.

The only delicacy I could come up with was hotdogs, mashed potatoes and peas.  A delicacy?  I can’t even remember if we had dessert.  If we did, it was ice cream.  You can never go wrong with scooping that out, now can you.

My husband arrived home as the mashed potatoes were being whipped into place.   He enjoys his meals, and I know, from experience that he was wondering what in the world could I be dishing up in an hour, other than pancakes or scrambled eggs.

The main entre was simple….hot dogs.   We had a lean financial reservoir in those years, and we enjoyed (did I say enjoy) hot dogs on a rather regular basis.   I’m not Martha Stewart or Betty Crocker, but I learned that you can “dress up” hot dogs by slicing them open down the center and placing cheese in the crevice.    Commit them to the broiler and voila, dinner is served.

This young gal had never been to our home before, but I reminded myself that the most “important ingredient” of the evening was that she felt “welcomed, loved and appreciated.” 

The doorbell rang, and we warmly took her in out of the cold.  It wasn’t but a few moments later and we all sat down to dinner.  I brought out the plates, adorned with three colors, brown, white and green.

She looked down at the presentation of cuisine and smiled.  The evening was full of conversation, laughter and tears as well.   We were so thrilled that she seemed to feel so at home, and so quickly.  

A few hours had passed and she shared that she needed to be on her way.  We all felt as though this friendship would go on for years, and it did.

Later in the evening we chuckled and wondered what in the world she thought at the presentation of such a simple meal.   It didn’t take long to find out.   She phoned us the following evening to tell us how much she appreciated the invitation to our home and hearts.   With a chuckle in her voice, she commented that it was the “hot dogs” that instantly put her at ease and made her feel like part of the family.

I learned then and continue to remind myself that people are so pleased just to be invited into your home; and that they really aren’t as concerned as you are as to what you serve them.

Entertaining focuses on the host and hostess.

Hospitality is focused on “your guest” and making them feel loved and welcome.   This can be done at a card table, with or without a tablecloth.   And yes, a grilled cheese sandwich or a well-adorned hot dog is quite appropriate.

Now, when was it that you were coming over for dinner?

“A PERSONAL CONFESSION”

Dear friends……………..

This morning I wanted to share with you a “site” on “youtube.com” that offers a tranquil inclusion to our life, providing uplift, encouragement, and peace in our “fast-paced” life.

Lately my heart has been challenged to again, “turn down the volume” in my life, and purposely choose some “nourishment” for my heart and soul.  

Yes, I know that culture is in a constant state of change, but much of that change in culture isn’t right, safe, or encouraging or uplifting. 

I must confess that the Lord has been convicting me about my obsession with the cell phone and my response to its every “cry for attention.”   Texting and communicating in short phrases has its “place,” that I realize, but call me old-fashioned if you wish ……. I still prefer to hear the “personal voice” of someone either in person or by phone.  Many have told me they feel the same.

The site I’m referring to on “youtube.com” is called:  “praise with sangah noona.”  She is a gifted communicator with her “fingers on the keyboard.”  She is young, but well-known around the world for her piano skill playing a variety of music. But it is her “praise with sangah noona” that “floods my heart and mind” as she plays hymns and choruses with the lyrics following along on the screen as she plays.

So why not give yourself a “holiday treat” and see what you think.  I watch on my computer and often sing along as the lyrics appear. You may wish to access “YOU TUBE” on your television (if you have that available), or access YOU TUBE on your phone or computer.

I trust that you’ll be refreshed in many ways through this inspirational access to music – music that touches us deep within the soul.

Blessings……..and refreshment,

Dianne

This is a story that, at first, you may not believe, but it’s true nonetheless.   My husband and I were in New Zealand visiting his parents this particular summer.   Often we would gather ourselves in their small, but comfortable Ford Anglia car.   If you were over six feet in height, you would not enjoy the ride.

I remember well our get-away that afternoon.  It was a very warm day and we were sailing along nicely, with all the windows in the down position.   In those days it was referred to as “natural air conditioning.”    We felt like we were the only ones on the road; it was that lonely.   It didn’t matter, we were enjoying our touring in the country that afternoon.  

Suddenly the car began making noises that didn’t appeal to any of the passengers.  It was sputtering as if we were running out of gas.   In a quick glance at the gauges, the tank had plenty of fuel to take us back home, so this wasn’t the problem.

My husband is very handy in car repair, especially if he has You-Tube at his fingertips.   But, alas, no computers were available.  GPS (global positioning systems hadn’t been discovered back then), so even that “talking directional woman” couldn’t give us our location.    We didn’t need anyone to tell us we were in the boon docks, with no one even passing by in another car and something with the mechanics of the car was very wrong; so wrong, that the car just stopped.   My husband steered over to the side of the road and began the search and rescue approach to see if he could determine the cause.

I can’t remember the exact cause or location, perhaps the radiator?   Whatever it was, he removed it from the front end of the car.    He then positioned himself on the side of the road with instructions to his three soon-to-be-alone-in-this-car passengers to stay put, and he would hitch hike to the next town.    We had no idea how far the town would be, but we sat like orphans, lonely but hopeful.

For a while there was silence in the car.   None of us had any ideas or answers to our automotive-dilemma.   My father-in-law and mother-in-law were in the back seat, and I was up front in this wee little automobile.

While we were discussing our dilemma and our helpless state, an incredible idea blossomed from my heart.   Dad, the professional musician in the back seat just “happened” to have his clarinet with him.    I was reminded that when you’re in trouble and belong to the Lord, call on Him, and He is a very present help in trouble.   The more we thought about this, the more determined we got about sharing our cares with the Lord.   We also decided that it would be a great thing to just sing some praise choruses, after all, we had our own professional musician who knew the music by heart to accompany us.

So there, in the tiny little car we told the Lord about our need of a car repair, and the provision of just the right part to be available in whatever little town my husband had been driven to.   Then, we began to sing.    We must have sung five or six choruses from our choral repertoire.   

As we energetically sang we were beginning to get quite warm due to the rising temperature in this remote little area of the country.    Over an hour had passed and no sign of the fix-it man.    We explored our memories for more choruses, and continued to sing and remind ourselves that God knew our exact location and predicament.   We were, as the Bible encourages us to, to encourage yourself in the Lord.   We were doing that, with all our heart and lungs.

All during the time this praise session of choruses and music meandered out the car windows, not one other car went past us.  Then it happened, and we were astonished at its size.   It was a double semi-truck.   You don’t see them very often, but when you do, you are struck at their size, particularly their length.   If anything, it would stir up some air as it passed by our car.

We were surprised that as this HUGE double-semi (did I say double) approached our car, it began to slow down.    What took our breath away is that he actually stopped this rig and pulled to the side of the road.

He was quick to inquire about our situation and we  responded with our “we don’t know what’s wrong, but we hoped that the help who left would soon be returning with the needed part.”

There was really nothing this truck driver could do for us, but we sure appreciated his stopping and caring attitude.   After the introduction he said he had a treat for us.   His question to this “group in the car” was, “do you like ice cream?”   That’s like asking a rabbit if it likes carrots.  

We couldn’t get a YES out quick enough.   He went to the rear of his semi and opened the doors.  Inside this double semi was a truck load of ICE CREAM…..all the flavors in the world you could think of.    His second question was, “name your favorite flavor.”

He pulled out a pint of our “requested favorites” and handed it to each of us…with spoons too.   Did we give thanks to the Lord, or what !!!!

We were thrilled out of our socks, and the truck driver was so pleased to have helped us.   We were gobbling down our ice cream, eating like mad due to the heat, but a thought came to my mind.   My husband would never believe this double semi-truck full of ice cream story.  The only way he would believe is if he could SEE & TASTE the evidence.

Before the ice cream man, I mean the truck driver, could close the semi doors, I inquired if he had the flavor Rocky Road in his ice cream inventory.  HE DID.   And he gave me a pint of it.  I ran over to our over-heated car and wrapped the package in newspaper and placed it in the cooler, hoping it would hold together until my husband returned.

The semi hadn’t been gone more than ten minutes when the fix-it man arrived.   We had just finished our pint each of ice cream, so all the evidence of the Lord’s help was consumed, but thanks to coolers, my husband was about to hear the story of his life.

The repair only took him a couple minutes and we were all standing around, anxiously awaiting the opportunity to share our “show and tell” event.     I wasted no time in telling the story and hurried to the cooler before the “show part” was disappearing into a messy liquid.

You can guess his reaction…..No, I don’t believe you about the big ice cream truck.   I’ve never heard of such a thing.   Well, the proof is in the pudding, or shall I say, ice cream.

We pulled out and unwrapped the pint of Rocky Road (his favorite) and handed him a spoon.   His eyes were like golf balls and full of belief once his taste buds began to enjoy this luscious treat…..all provided by the Lord because we prayed, we praised,and God responded.

To date, I’ve never seen another double-semi truck filled with ice cream.   But I must close with this wee chuckle.   Every once in a while a tiny 4-wheel ice cream truck comes by our neighborhood in the summer with its little gingle inviting prospective customers to buy their ice cream, and my thoughts and heart goes back to the semi-truck loaded with frozen desserts.   I just smile with delight at God’s goodness and sweetness to us that day.

What joy to reach out to our neighbors, for a variety of reasons.  One of them being that neighbors are close by and can often be a wonderful source of help in an emergency. 

In this particular area where we lived in Southern California the homes were situated on a relatively short street.   In that climate people are often outside more than any other area of the country.   We were in the process of learning the names of our neighbors and their children and pets.   We felt very comfortable in this new neighborhood and loved living there.

I pray for our neighbors on Thursdays.  You may wonder if prayer makes a difference.   Yes it does, for many reasons.  But in this little story, God was orchestrating a new adventure on behalf of our neighbors, two doors down.  He wanted to let them know that when you belong to the Lord, He knows and cares and upon our invitation, becomes involved in our daily lives.

Being visible on a regular basis in your front yard offers many open opportunities for a friendship.   A woman who lived a couple of houses away from us appeared at our front door one evening.   After a brief hello, she asked me if I could do her a favor.  I couldn’t imagine where this would take me, but I agreed with the stipulation of “if I could help, I would.”

She began sharing her plight of need.   It was around Christmas time, and she and her husband had purchased a tiny puppy for their two children.   At this point of the conversation, I couldn’t imagine how I could be involved, but it didn’t take long to be included in the dilemma that was before her.

She had made arrangements to pick up the puppy the following evening, and needed a “housing arrangement” with someone who would care for this little furry critter.   You might imagine, if you know me, that I love animals.   And wee puppies are right up my alley of affection.   I thought about the challenge as she was describing his size.   This “hotel arrangement” would be only for a few hours.

I didn’t see this as a problem and after all, I could enjoy this little bundle of enthusiasm for a few hours before he was to be introduced to his new family.   Yes, I could accommodate this new little puppy, but only for a few hours.

The following evening I was ready for his rambunctious arrival in our kitchen.   He remained in my boarding house for about two hours.   This was just enough time for him to get accustomed to my scent and my tone of voice.    The woman picked up this bundle of energy with fur and took him to his new home.   All was well.

This little energizer bunny seemed to enjoy his new family and often they would walk him past my home each morning and evening.   Every time they went past our home and I was visible, his entire body would shake with enthusiasm.  He must have remembered that my kitchen was his first place of settlement upon his arrival in the neighborhood.

One day as I was out front in my garden, this little dog like lightening scurried past me down the street all by himself.   Because of my love for animals, I took notice that he was travelling on his own and this didn’t seem good.  He was so tiny and alone, I was afraid this might not have a good ending.  

I offered up a quick “Help me Lord, to catch this dog.”  I called out his name and he remarkably came running back towards me.  At this I drew a big breath of thanksgiving and proceeded down the street to his own home.   The family had no idea of his disappearance.

This adventure happened over and over in our neighborhood.  This wee furry ball discovered happiness in disappearing and wouldn’t respond to his owners.  But if they were able to locate me, I could call out and he would respond and return to sound of my voice.   I soon became the “fetch that dog lady.”

One day they asked me why the dog would come to me and not to them.   The man of the house said that it seemed like whenever I went looking for the dog and called out his name, their little dog would respond and pounce happily in my direction.   I paused, and shared with him that I had prayed and asked the Lord for His help.   It took several more times of my intervening retrieval before they began to realize that God really cared as I had told them.

A few years later we were moving to another part of the country.  This couple arrived at my front door with a little gift.   I thought it was appropriate to open it immediately as they were standing there and seemingly so excited to see my reaction.

Secretly I thought to myself that this package was too small for a furry surprise, so with curious anticipation I hurriedly opened the gift to see what was in the package.   It was a Willow Tree “Angel of Prayer” figurine. 

They wanted me to have this as a reminder that they remembered that prayer makes a difference, and that God does want to be involved in the tiny details of our lives.    He does indeed, delight in every detail of our lives. 

I think of this family whenever I view the little figurine on my bookcase.   It’s a reminder to me too, that God knows and cares about our every need.