Don't Sell the Harp!

“By the rivers of Babylon,

There we sat down, yea, we wept
When we remembered Zion.
We hung our harps
Upon the willows in the midst of it.
For there those who carried us away captive asked of us a song,
And those who plundered us requested mirth,
Saying, ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’
How shall we sing the Lord’s song
In a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
Let my right hand forget its skill!
If I do not remember you,
Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth—
If I do not exalt Jerusalem
Above my chief joy.”
 
Psalm 137:1-6 nkjv

   

Rivers of Babylon

Jeff & Sheri Easter - Rivers of Babylon [Live] - YouTube

 

Dear Reader,        

          The Psalm above shares the cries of the Jewish people held in captivity. Ripped from their homeland, they sorrowed to the point they couldn’t sing the songs of God that lived in their hearts, so they hung up their harps, not imagining they’d ever use them again.

          To make matters worse, their captors tormented them to sing, knowing full well how distressed they were.

          Yet, in time, the captives hearts were restored, their joy returned, and they took down their harps and lifted their voices to the Lord.

          Have you ever been so hurt you cannot fathom healing? Have you, too, “hung up your harp?”

          Although I may not have been through the same hurt as you and definitely haven’t experienced the level of the hurts our world is enduring now, all grief holds something in common.

          Decades ago, my husband and I hung up our harps. Weighed down by the circumstances of our grief and pain, we literally could not sing. Not a note. I wouldn’t’ve dreamt then that we’d ever sing again when we could barely face the next day.

          But eventually we did. It didn’t happen overnight. In fact, the healing took decades as the Holy Spirit ministered to us in our brokenness and eventually led us to the willow tree where we’d hung our harps.

          There they were. Waiting.

          Reader, your weeping may endure for a night—or countless nights. But Joy does come in the morning! Psalm 30:5 That’s promised!

          So, dear one, please consider these words:

1)     Don’t sell the harp! It’s okay for it to hang in the willow tree for all the time you need to move forward in your healing journey.

2)     When you’re ready, take down that harp. Dust it. Tune it. Run your fingers across the strings. Pluck a few. You may try playing a simple song, most likely hesitate, then try again.

3)     Now add your voice. That takes great courage, but you can do it! Tears will fall, but you also might find you get through a stanza.

4)     The next time, you may yearn to sing more than one verse. Try looking to Heaven as you lift your voice. Tears may still well in your eyes, but you’ll notice you feel some better. Good job!

5)     It might very well catch you unaware when one day you realize mid-song that Joy harmonizes with you, lightening your heart—something you never expected when you hung up that harp so very long ago; something you would’ve never realized if you’d sold it.

          There’s a great secret—maybe not so secret—that some don’t know, but you will learn now. Here it is:

          When a song’s been restored after brokenness—after the incident that made you hang up your harp—it possesses a richness, a depth of purpose it didn’t have before you were hurt. Before you grieved.

          The song lives, and so now will you. Your song will never be the same. It’ll be better.

          And you just may find yourself saying, “I’m so glad I didn’t sell my harp!”

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

Cynthia Clawson - Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus [Live] (youtube.com)

 

 

#captivejews #hangingupharps #lostsong #grief #pain #sadness #music #Godrestores #Joy #sing

 

(Disclaimer: I’m not a professional counselor. My advice simply comes from

what I’ve gleaned during my own grief journey & walk with God.)

 

Photo Credit: creazilla.com

Aurora's "Talking" Rocks

         As summer draws to a close and autumn leaves blanket the landscape, I’d like to share about a girl who gave happiness to our town and a lady who sparked this adventure.

          The girl’s name? Jozie! Her idea? To start a caterpillar downtown but not an ordinary crawly! This one made from painted rocks. “I thought it would be a fun way to bring our city together after seeing how everyone really liked finding Lisa’s painted rocks.”

          Jozie and her folks thought of the perfect place to call “home” for this caterpillar—outside the Chamber of Commerce caboose (who granted permission). It didn’t take long for this to blossom as Jozie came up with ideas for signs, and her dad (a welder by trade) made those to place by the Aurora caterpillar.

          So, who’s this Lisa that Jozie mentioned? One of our resident painted rock-hiders! How ’bout I let her introduce herself!

          “My name is Lisa, but around Aurora lately I’m referred to as ‘the Rock Lady.’ It all began last summer when I learned about painting and hiding rocks. I love artsy things, so I gave it a try.

          A year later, and here we are! Over the past several months I have hidden or given away hundreds of rocks.

          People messaged me to paint them special rocks for various reason—businesses. Also, several individuals contacted me to paint for someone who was in an accident, another for someone … sick, a child and a soldier’s headstones, a memorial rock for an animal that passed away, a special needs child, for autistic children, and more.

          One lady said that I was an angel.

          I said, ‘No, not at all. But the Bible says to be good to people because you might entertain angels unaware.’

          Someone also said I have a unique ministry. I cannot say that I ever considered it a ministry, but you never know what kind of seeds are planted by the smallest acts of kindness.

          If taking 30 minutes or an hour of my time to paint a simple rock brings joy and happiness to all these various people, it was worth it.”

 

          Lisa paints all types of images on her rocks, but I really love seeing the ones that “talk.” No, not out loud, but they do convey a message of hope.

          I confess. I checked our town’s Community Connect online page often to see updates on both Lisa’s “talking” rocks and also how Jozie’s caterpillar was growing. It’s added smiles to long, hot days and given joy, seeing kids in our town so excited to find these special rocks.

          I thought, What a nice activity for the kids! And there isn’t anyone who can’t take part because it’s all free. These kids must feel like they’ve discovered treasure!

          Parents posted photos of their children smiling ear-to-ear, holding the rocks they found.

          One child was so excited to find her rock at a local bank, but she didn’t keep it! Instead, she wished to add it to Jozie’s caterpillar. Other children delighted in finding hidden rocks but re-hid them so others could share in the adventure as well.

Show A Little Bit of Love and Kindness by John W. Peterson (1974)

Show A Little Bit Of Love and Kindness | The Collingsworth Family | Official Performance Video (youtube.com)

 

 

         I love that the painted rocks in our town bringing excitement and happiness to so many through their “talking” message, but what about the possibility of “shouting” rocks!

   

       When Jesus rode through Jerusalem, the crowd praised Him shouting with joy, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!”

          The pharisees rebuked Jesus! (Imagine the gall to do that!) To put it bluntly, these pompous leaders wanted the people to shut up.

          But Jesus had an answer for them. “I tell you that if these should keep silent, the stones would immediately cry out.” Luke 19:40

          Now, have you ever heard rocks speak up? No? Well, Jesus said they would praise Him if all the people were silenced.

         Do I believe this is possible? If God says it, I believe it because with God all things are possible. But I don’t believe God wishes this to happen. Why? Because if rocks are needed to proclaim He is Lord, that means all the people are silent.

          I hope we never reach the day when there are no people praising the Lord. That would be a sad, sad day indeed.

          We are living in difficult times. Thankfully we have those among us who want to show kindness—even through the giving and sharing of rocks—helping to brighten the hearts of those who discovered the hidden ones and to those who added to Jozie’s caterpillar.

          And in these hard days we face, we can ultimately be thankful for the Rock of Ages—Jesus—Who can be found by those who seek Him and can be shared by those who love Him.

          Praise the Lord!

Evangelist Sammy Tippit

The Stones Will Cry Out (youtube.com)

 

#paintedrocks #Auroracaterpillar #childrensactivity #hidingrocks #therocklady #community

 #kindness #angelsunaware #praisingJesus #rockscryout

 

Photo credit: J. Hargus, L. Murphy, J. Garoutte, R. Maravilla, & B. Graham

P.S.--NOT ALL ROCKS PICTURED IN THIS BLOG POST WERE PAINTED BY LISA. OTHERS IN OUR TOWN CONTRIBUTED TO THE HIDDEN ROCK ADVENTURE TOO! HOORAY, ROCK PAINTERS AND HIDERS ALL! YOU INDEED ROCK!

Happy Book Birthday!

          Min, can you believe your memoir is 1 year old this week? Wow! And God has already used it in the lives of so many of your readers.

          Oh, the heartaches and tears, frustrations and anger, laughs and funnies that went into the 2 years I worked with you at our kitchen table!

          I remember Day 1—July 12^th, 2021. We had no clue how or where to begin, so we prayed.

          Then we pulled out letters and mementos of your life. It wrecked me when I shared with you about your abandonment paper from South Korea. That broke your heart too, but it also ignited the spark that began your story.

          First sentence: “I am number 93-89” … and it took off from there.

          But from the moment you first expressed wanting to write your story (January 2021) you desired to use your given name in honor of your birth mother (who likely chose it for you).

          Do you remember the day we laid out Cheerios and colored a very small percentage to help you understand how many South Korean orphans ever find a birth parent?

          Do you recall telling me you thought you’d write much better if we had a handy supply of chocolate candy?

          And how ’bout the Rubik’s cube* to help fidgety you cope with stress? That didn’t even survive Day 1!

          I also remember your agent asking how we planned to tell backstory. I had no clue until one night when I suddenly awoke with my lips actually saying out loud, “Letters!” I thanked God, climbed out of bed, headed into the living room, and jotted down thoughts pouring from my mind and heart.

          In the morning, I shared the letters idea with your dad, and he came onboard.

          No, it wasn’t always a smooth ride, but there were treasured, revealing moments. And you, son, were a brave soul to bear it all for the sake of this book’s birth. Remarkable! Your story and you!

          Being your scribe and chief editor was a privilege. No, not easy—either task, and sometimes I had to be the “tough guy,” making you take time-out walks to regroup, acting out parts of your story you couldn’t piece together, drawing diagrams and time lines. Oh, those pesky timelines!

          And your dad? Key! Our computer genius—the one who got us through the tears and frustration of laying out the book with Ingram Spark, filing for all the needed numbers and permissions, and umpteen other things that went into your story becoming an actual book.

          And it was your dad who was so sure God wanted the audiobook version out there and that Jim Hodges** must be your reader. Jim wasn’t sure until he read your story, then he expressed he had to do it. (Here's an audiobook sample: https://youtu.be/PYQL5T7UQuE)

          You raised the money to hire Jim, just like you raised the funds for a professional editor and cover designer. More than $2,000 worth! In and of itself an amazing feat!

          Min, you’re indeed a masterpiece! So is your story—all known by God before you were born. You had a story worth telling because God shared His. And because of the completed work of Christ, you accepted His gift of salvation, obeyed His command to write your pain and joys, and now offer Hope to all who read A Home for Min Soo~Putting Together the Pieces of My Life.

          Happy book birthday, precious son!          

A Home for Min Soo~Putting Together the Pieces of My Life—

Benjamin Hampshire (a.k.a. Kim, Min Soo) shares about his book

(with Brian & Sarah Hampshire playing I Need Thee Every Hour).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PjCNhRRI93E

I need Thee ev’ry hour, most gracious Lord;

No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.

 

Refrain: I need Thee, oh, I need Thee. Ev’ry hour I need Thee;

Oh, bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee.

 

I need Thee ev’ry hour. Stay Thou nearby;

Temptations lose their pow’r when Thou art nigh. (Refrain)

 

I need Thee ev’ry hour, in joy or pain;

Come quickly and abide, or life is vain. (Refrain)

 

I need Thee ev’ry hour. Teach me Thy will;

And Thy rich promises in me fulfill. (Refrain)

 

(from the hymn I Need Thee Every Hour by Robert Lowry, 1872, public domain)

 

 

Min’s memoir is available through major booksellers online

in paperback, audiobook, and e-book formats.

You can also purchase it at a reduced rate through Ingram Spark—

by using this link:

https://shop.ingramspark.com/b/084...

 

#writingabook #bookbirthday #memoir #orphan #SouthKorea #birthparents

#fostercare #adoption #UnitedStates #neurofibromatosis #Aspergers

#specialneeds #cancer #Godsplan&purpose #Heaven

 

Photo credits:

book cover design owned by author

*needpix.com image

**used with permission

other photos personally owned

What God Did for Katanna

          Who is Katanna? She’s the sweet daughter of our youngest son’s fourth grade teacher. At that time, Katanna was a little girl, but now she’s all grown up!

          Two years ago, Katanna wanted to publicly profess her faith in Jesus Christ by being baptized. Reason for rejoicing in and of itself, but God did something amazing for her, although it would be two more years until that evidenced.

          I’ll turn this telling over to Katanna’s mom who shared this not too long ago:

          “My daughter never met my dad. He passed a few months before she was born.

          Katanna was baptized in the church where my parents and many of my family members on my dad’s side were baptized. She also wanted to be baptized with something that represented her papaw 
Stewart.

          I put a picture my dad in a sandwich bag, and she wore it in her pocket.

          She changed clothes after the ceremony in a back room and forgot to pick up the bag with the photo in it from the shelf where she laid it.

          I meant to go back and get the picture but kept forgetting.

          Then eastern Kentucky experienced extreme flooding, which almost destroyed the church."

(This video clip shows flooding in Neon, August 2022. The building with the reddish roof is the church mentioned above.)

https://www.facebook.com/watch/?mibextid=UalRPS&v=744724960137964&rdid=4meVqGcFMiDmcUzj

          "Everything inside the church had to be replaced. Many people helped rebuild the inside...

          It really hurt to see the pews my grandmother and her sisters sat in completely destroyed. I actually stood outside of the church and helped make grilled hot dogs and hamburgers to give to those who lost their homes after the devastation.

          I thought of the picture a few times and felt just awful that we hadn’t remembered to get it.

          A few weeks ago, however, a gentleman from the church, Frank Fleming, approached my mom after a Sunday service and handed her the picture still inside of the same sandwich bag—totally unharmed. He said it was found in the back. 

          I don’t know how it survived! I do know that faith, love, and hope can’t be destroyed when you hold onto it. It is with faith, love, and hope that—although Dad never got to meet Katanna—he is always with her and is so proud of her. Thank you, Frank, for this tremendous and timely blessing!

          I bought Katanna a music box when she graduated from college this year, and she has it in her first ever classroom. But instead of jewelry, her papaw Stewart’s picture in the sandwich bag has a new home inside of it!” 

                                                            –Sonya Breeding

 

          As it turns out, the school where Katanna begins her teaching career also flooded in the summer of 2022. The students she’ll teach well remember that school year’s opening being delayed by the massive clean-out required for them to return to their classrooms.

          And now, who will “join” them in their class under Katanna’s instruction? Papaw Stewart! For his image is in that jewelry box which has its very special place in her classroom—and in her heart.

 

Dear Lord God,

          Thank you for what you did for Katanna. Nothing is too hard for You!

          First of all, You saved her soul. And, because of that, she wanted to follow Your example by being baptized.

          Despite the devastation caused by the flood waters, You preserved a diamond for her to place in her musical jewelry box. What could have been more precious to her and her family than that gift!

          Thank You, dear Lord, for this very special gem of a young lady who will now be an influence to the young lives you bring to her through her teaching career.

          Lord, help her to know, when the waters of hard times seem like they may drown her, You are there to bring her out of them in the same way you preserved the priceless picture of her papaw.

          Thank You for what you will continue to do for Katanna.

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

 

So precious is Jesus, my Savior, my King, His praise all the day long with rapture I sing;

To Him in my weakness for strength I can cling, for he is so precious to me.

 

(Chorus) For He is so precious to me, for He is so precious to me;

’Tis heaven below, my Redeemer to know, for He is so precious to me.

 

He stood at my heart’s door in sunshine and rain and patiently waited an entrance to gain;

What shame that so long He entreated in vain, for He is so precious to me. (Chorus)

 

I stand on the mountain of blessing at last, no cloud in the heavens a shadow to cast;

His smile is upon me, the valley is past, for He is so precious to me. (Chorus)

 

I praise Him because He appointed a place where, someday, through faith in His wonderful grace,

I know I shall see Him, shall look on His face, for He is so precious to me. (Chorus)

 

(from the hymn He Is So Precious to Me by Charles H. Gabriel, 1902, public domain)

#baptism #church #2022Kentuckyflood #devastation #papawsphoto #Godpreserved #teacher

 

Photo credits: Sonya Breeding, Cayden Fugate, Josh Howard (video)

Kids!

          During my growing up years, we attended an annual family reunion. We made our way around all the tables full of family, specially making sure we greeted the elderly.

          When we reached Great Uncle Dan? Same exchange year after year. He looked at my sister, smiled, and exclaimed as if heaven were shining on him, “Angel child!” Then he eyed me, shook his head, and said with a voice of doom, “Tsk-tsk! Born in the briar patch!”*

          (Our mom agreed with Great Uncle Dan. Our dad remained silent on the subject. Probably because he was also “born in the briar patch.”)

          Siblings (even identical twins) can be so different from one another—like night from day, as the saying goes.

          Our own children differed greatly too, as do their children.

          Let me share with you a little about two of our grandkids. Brothers.

          Not long ago, 5-year-old TJ and 3-year-old JC sent us some of their artwork. The subject matter actually reflected their personalities pretty well (smile). With these paintings, a note from their dad:

“We wanted to send you flowers…

TJ made a flower garden picture.

JC painted what looks like a compost pile!”

          The next time I talked with my sister via Facetime (video phone), I had to show her our grandboys’ artwork along with their dad’s comments. We had a good laugh as her mind went to the same place mine had.

          She piped up with, “Sounds just like Great Uncle Dan! I was the Angel Child!”

          “Yeah, I know,” I said. “And how can I ever forget where I was born!”

          No matter how different our kids are, we love them all dearly. Some require more time invested. You know, those “born in the briar patch.” Those who “create compost.” And sometimes these who challenge us more also wear us to the point of wanting to quit, not to mention exhaustion and tears.

          That’s why our kids, grandkids, great-grands need our commitment to aim them toward God, no matter how easy or difficult they are. Some seek God, some question, some walk away. Oh, how they need to know the love of the One Who created us all—unique every one!

          Parents of those “spirited” kids, though, surely must love them to “survive!”

          Let’s go a step further! How does the Heavenly Father view His children? He certainly knows our differences, gave us a road map to navigate life—His Word, the Bible, and loves us to the nth degree. Because of This Great Love, He never quits on the toughest cases and offers second chances, third, and more. What a Pure Example for us parents to follow when raising our families!

          I admit, I love the angel child’s garden very much, but I as much love the briar patch menace’s compost pile. After all, don’t kids need to bloom where they’re planted? And doesn’t a healthy garden require fertilizer? (Smile.)

I am so glad that our Father in heaven tells of His love in the Book He has given;

Wonderful things in the Bible I see, this is the dearest, that Jesus loves me.

 

(Refrain) I am so glad that Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me;

I am so glad that Jesus loves me, Jesus loves even me.

 

Though I forget Him and wander away, kindly He follows wherever I stray;

Back to His dear loving arms would I flee, when I remember that Jesus loves me. (Refrain)

 

O, if there’s only one song I can sing, when in His beauty I see the great King,

This shall my song in eternity be: O, what a wonder that Jesus loves me! (Refrain)

 

(from the hymn Jesus Loves Even Me by Emily S. Oakey—attributed—author, P.P. Bliss, 1871, public domain)

 

#kids #lovingourchildren #raisingkids #uniquepersonalities #strongwilledchildren #Godslove #Jesuslovesme

 

 

*reference to an Uncle Remus story, popularized by journalist, Joel Chandler Harris

 

Photo credit: M. Tripp for the initial image