Exposed!

“Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed.” John 3:20.

It’s a truth I must face. I tend to be partial to the cloudy, wintry days that arrest the bright sunlight and hold it at bay – only when it comes to the indoors. Let me explain. I’m an outside person – digging in the dirt, raking leaves and debris, planting seeds, trimming shrubs and lugging heavy stones from place to place – it’s the world I love. The inside of our dwelling is an entirely different animal.

I detest housekeeping which I understand to be ridding it of dust, grime, stains, germs and clutter. If I nurture and care for a blooming plant outdoors, the plant rewards me with new life and beautiful blooms. If I “housekeep” our home, it sparkles and gleams for an abbreviated time only to be revisited with dust, grime, stains, germs and clutter. It’s an endless task.

As for the cloudy, wintry days, they camouflage the dust and give me lengthier days between cleaning and dusting. Then here comes spring and summer with its piercing rays that flood through our “need-cleaning” windows onto our furniture and glass table surfaces that wreak of dust. The bright rays expose not only my dust but my poor rating as a proficient housekeeper. There’s no escaping the evidence. The sunlight makes it obvious.

Perhaps that’s why a lot of believers neglect regular Bible reading. Isn’t it amazing that manuscripts written by multiple persons over centuries of time are still so relevant and can actually call our name through the readings? The Word is light and shines that light into any darkness. The Word exposes sin – not just “their” sin but mine!

Prayer works the same way. In the stillness and silence of prayer, we seek audience with a holy God. Sin stands as a wall, separating me from the Father. As I pray, He shines His light into any sin that shrouds my life – touchiness, anger, unforgiving spirit, pride, selfishness, gossip, hate, judgmental attitude . . . The list seems endless, but the Father longs for our fellowship, so He shines His blazing light into our hearts to seek out those separating sins.

His radiant light is pure and as we repent and confess, the Light warms our hearts and reflects His Light into the lives around us. And – when we consider that His Holy Spirit is dwelling in the hearts of all believers, shouldn’t we be vigilant to provide Him a spotless, squeaky clean home?

Spotless Lamb of God, increase our desire to keep our temples clean, free from sin, so that You may be glorified in the way we keep house. In Jesus’ name I ask. Amen.

Daily Perspective

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” Matthew 6:33

How our world near and far has changed. A global pandemic stretched across this giant globe with a vengeance that distances couldn’t affect. It found no barriers. Now COVID is a universal word, recognized and feared by most.

As we swap our calendars for 2022, we linger over the thoughts of what this year holds. Will the pandemic continue to mutate into other challenges and fears? Will cold wars continue to escalate? Will inflation create and demand new lifestyles for families? Will crime continue to rise? Will corruption and immorality become an accepted trend?

The questions could lead us down a tunnel of doom and gloom – especially when we focus on the “what ifs” instead of our Refuge and Protection.

We church-goers are all familiar with the Lord’s model prayer. It’s a routine prayer in some congregations and consists of words that can flow from our lips without sinking into our hearts.

How often I have prayed in unison: “Give us this day our daily bread.” Yet I tend to think in weeks – even months. Jesus told us to observe the birds. Their daily supply never ends. His design is for His children to depend on His care and provision a day at a time.

Just stop and think how much stress would dissipate if our tomorrows didn’t rob us of today’s blessings. We would live today solely in today and depend on our caring Father for these twenty-four hours. After all, tomorrows never actually come.

Lord of all, Your directions for the abundant life aren’t complex. Teach us to live one day at a time with trust and joy to the extent we make the lost long for what we have. Amen.

An Icy Death Threat

  “But I trust in You, O Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in Your hand.”

 Psalm 31:14-15

There’s a mental landmark along Highway 30 between Oxford and New Albany that Othel and I will always remember. It was a 20° early Sunday morning when we were on our way to a visit to church with our children. The fields were frosty white and the highway abandoned

As we hit the straightaway along some large sections of farmland, Othel and I gasped. A pickup truck was overturned in the ditch to our right, and a cloud of steam and smoke billowed from it. Othel hit his brakes and pulled off the highway. We saw a body lying in the frozen field three car lengths from the truck.

Othel sped back onto the highway to a nearby house and shouted to the occupants to call 911. He squealed out of the drive back to the accident. The highway was still deathly quiet. Othel rushed from our vehicle across the ditch to the body. It was a young college student, semiconscious and groaning in pain. Othel grabbed a coat from his truck and covered him. With other clothes, he tried to cushion his body from the frozen mattress of earth. Then he knelt down beside him and told him help was on the way. The wait for the ambulance seemed endless, but Othel continued to assure the young man with his presence.

Last week Othel received a Thanksgiving card from the young man’s family, similar to the one he gets from them each Thanksgiving. They continue to express their gratitude to Othel for stopping, for getting help, and for staying by his side. They thank God for their son’s life being spared in the accident and for Othel’s timely first aid in the icy temperatures.

As we mainstream into the Christmas season I think of what Christ’s birth mean to mankind, and my heart is filled with thanksgiving. He came as a gift to all who would receive Him. What an enormous love and sacrifice!

Too bad the world tends to celebrate this great gift just during the Christmas holidays and with little thought of its true significance. Because of His coming to earth with His salvation plan, we need to express thanksgiving on a daily basis.  

Each year in Othel’s card those parents say, “Thank you for staying with our son.” That was just a tiny picture of what God did for us on that night in Bethlehem. He sent Jesus – Immanuel – God (staying) with us . . . for eternity.

Holy God, prepare our hearts to celebrate the gift of Your Son this Christmas season and for the days that follow. Teach us how to express our gratitude for so great a Gift. I ask in the name of Jesus. Amen.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

• Camille Anding is a child of God since age 12.
• Wife of 53 years to Othel; mother to Tahya and Eli;l grandmother to seven grandchildren and two great-grands.
• Retired from photography business with Othel. Now carry cameras on their travel adventures.
• Freelance writer, regular contributor to Hometown magazines, and dedicated to living “my utmost for His highest.”

On Time

“Then she left him and returned to Mary. She called Mary aside from the mourners and told her, “The Teacher is here and wants to see you.” John 11:28

Sorrow and grief were Mary’s foreboding companions. Her brother was gone. The nearest she could ever be to him again would be at his entombment. Life was stagnant, cold – just steps away from depression. It was good to have Martha with her, but life would be so different without Lazarus. He was more than a brother; he meant protection and security for two females in their male dominated society.

Suddenly Martha broke through Mary’s wall of grief. The Teacher had finally arrived but. . . too late. What could she say to Him now? She was certain that her disappointment in Jesus’ late arrival would be etched on her face.

Yet her dearest friend was here. She rose quickly, wiped her tears and hurried to Him. When she saw those tender eyes meet hers, she fell at His feet. It was her same posture when she had anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair. But that posture was one of worship; this meeting was heavy with grief. “Lord,” she spoke through tears, “If you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

Mary had witnessed and heard of Jesus’ power in restoring sight to the blind and healing the sick. There was no doubt that her LORD would have cast out the sickness. Lazarus would still be alive and well.

Without any words of comfort or regret, Jesus said, “Where have you laid him?”

What was it that brought the next emotion from Jesus? John recorded that He wept. Did the depths of sorrow and despair felt by his sisters and friends engulf Him, also? Did He shed tears over the animosity of others who He was able to discern, or was it the sorrow He felt for all who must deal with sin’s final blow?

In the next unimaginable scene, Jesus orders the stone to the corpse’s tomb be removed. Then among the doubting, the skeptics, and the grieving, He thanked God for hearing Him so all would know that He was sent by God. Then the Creator and Life-Giver shouted for all to hear, “Lazarus, come forth!”

I once heard a preacher say, “If Jesus hadn’t called Lazarus’ name, every dead person would have come forth from their graves.”

There’s never been a reunion like the one in Bethany that day. Mary and Martha now understood why Jesus had delayed. He displayed His ultimate power and in doing so placed a “Just Waiting” sign over every Christian’s grave.

Omnipotent Father, There are no words – only praise for our Savior who conquered death. Let everything that has breath praise the LORD! Amen.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

• Camille Anding is a child of God since age 12.
• Wife of 53 years to Othel; mother to Tahya and Eli;l grandmother to seven grandchildren and two great-grands.
• Retired from photography business with Othel. Now carry cameras on their travel adventures.
• Freelance writer, regular contributor to Hometown magazines, and dedicated to living “my utmost for His highest.”

Timed Memories

‘For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you . . .’” Says the LORD, who has compassion on you.”

On a recent trip to visit our grandchildren and to keep them for an over-nighter for their parents, it was my assignment to check homework and sign worksheets for the day’s work just completed. When I was handed a neat page of addition – rows of them – it catapulted me into my childhood. It screamed: SPEED DRILL!

The memories flooded over me with the same nauseating sensation. I could hear my fourth grade teacher’s voice:  “When I say go, turn over your math sheet and begin.” My hands grew sweaty as I reached for my yellow pencil. The winding of her timer meant there was no time to run and no place to hide. I wanted to tell her that I hated speed drills – that I considered them torture, but we couldn’t speak during tests. I wanted to raise my hand to go to the restroom, but you couldn’t leave your seat during speed drills. I wanted my mother or . . . a power outage . . or a tsunami! Where were those desk-shaking earthquakes when you needed them?

The timer was in place, and the sound of the guillotine crashed on my head. I grabbed my pencil and attacked the first row. Some were easy, but some required fingers. As I descended the rows, I needed fingers AND toes. Surely the timer had to be about to ring, but I wasn’t finished! But at least its ring meant that I could breathe and my heart would stop pounding – that is, until we exchanged papers and began checking our answers. The dreaded check marks could ruin the remainder of my day. Why couldn’t we check the ones we got right or circle the rows of correct answers?

I didn’t realize it them, but the speed drills and tests were just the beginning of life’s cycle of testing and sorting and grouping. Mankind has always found a way to “grade” whether by appearance, clothing labels, income, family tree, or any of an infinite number of classifications.

That’s why my discovery of God’s grace left me dumbfounded. One wonderful day I realized that there’s nothing I would ever do or not do that would make Him love me any more or any less. “But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children’s children.”Psalm 103:17.  A steadfast love – an everlasting love – what a love! He loves ME; He told me so – check marks or no check marks. 

Wonderful, Merciful Father, thank you seems much too small an expression for Your love to me. You see me, not as I am, but as I am to become. How marvelous, how wonderful is my Savior’s love for me!! Amen

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

• Camille Anding is a child of God since age 12.
• Wife of 53 years to Othel; mother to Tahya and Eli;l grandmother to seven grandchildren and two great-grands.
• Retired from photography business with Othel. Now carry cameras on their travel adventures.
• Freelance writer, regular contributor to Hometown magazines, and dedicated to living “my utmost for His highest.”

The Playhouse

“And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ.” Philippians 1:9-10

It’s difficult to remember any time when discernment was more needed. War is being waged mightily against the inerrant word of God. Man is twisting the infallible Word in an attempt to wrap sin in an acceptable light.

>Many of our young are being attacked with brainwashing attempts via school, TV, even as subtleties through children’s books, movies and toys.

War is raging, and the enemy is enlivened – especially when he’s able to convince us that the solution to our nation’s problems is in our political party. “Get out the vote” has become the cry of the concerned citizens. The Church should respond, “Get on your knees! Pray for revival!”

Recently I had a surgery that was a top qualifier to put me in the “seniors” bracket. It was cataract surgery. Prior to the surgery, my physician would check my eyes during my check-ups and say that I had cataracts and I would know when it was time to have them removed. This past July was the time!

Surgery was routine and painless. The results were amazing. Colors were brighter, and night images lost their shadows. Still, I needed some magnification to read small print.

Without thinking I reached for my old set of bifocals. No way could I use them again! Everything was a blur because I had new sight, thanks to a talented physician.

God’s Word is our light and sight since the Great Physician granted us healing salvation. We must use our new sight and mind of Christ to read His Word in order to distinguish truth from lies. Then we must teach those truths to our children and grandchildren and be ready to speak boldly (in love) to the blinded and deceived.

Father, thank you for the gift of discernment and your Word that’s filled with all the how-tos for life. We praise you for giving us all we need to live life in obedience. Amen

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

• Camille Anding is a child of God since age 12.
• Wife of 53 years to Othel; mother to Tahya and Eli;l grandmother to seven grandchildren and two great-grands.
• Retired from photography business with Othel. Now carry cameras on their travel adventures.
• Freelance writer, regular contributor to Hometown magazines, and dedicated to living “my utmost for His highest.”

Day of Conviction

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.”

Mark 12:30

Allow me to share some of my history in the world of college football. It comes with having your son’s name on the game roster.

We rose early Saturday morning to get to campus early – to get a glimpse of the celebrities on Game Day. Excitement flooded the campus. I reflect now that I don’t always rise early on Sundays in anticipation of worshiping the King of Kings – a Being that far surpasses or out-rivals any other.

Even with our early arrival, we had to park over a mile from campus. Would I ever attend a worship service that didn’t have easy access? It caused me to think.

The Grove was insanely congested. Friends and relatives congregated under tents for pre-game visiting, eating, drinking and fellowship. The atmosphere was festive. I passed table after table of crowded palate favorites. Some were delicately detailed and decorated. The servings were mega-size.I thought of church fellowships I have attended. Few were ever congested, and I didn’t ever carry my part in a wagon or have the need of an entire family to haul food for long distances. My heart was not in the church fellowships like it was in the Grove. I was convicted.

Hospitality was at a premium throughout the Grove. Strangers, distant acquaintances and passersby shared food and drink. The adjacent tent to our host tent shared their TV when ours had connection problems. Another tent neighbor stepped into our group with a bowl of candy and offered it to the children. Game day blinded us to color and judging. Backgrounds weren’t relevant; acceptance and friendship ruled. The body of Christ should put to shame the hospitality and acceptance I witnessed in the Grove. I’m part of the reason it doesn’t. I confess my guilt.

Masses filled the stadium long before game time. Will I ever see that enthusiasm of believers thronging sanctuaries? I long to, but am I willing to invest more time in praying – even fasting? The Lord knows.

Everyone stood! Most were screaming and joining cheers and break-out songs. I’ve complained about poor seating in churches, and I probably would complain if I had to stand for a 45 minute worship service. Does my Sunday passion match my Saturday game day passion? I was convicted.

The standing stadium crowd was a sea of blue and navy. It was a great response from the media memo that announced the game day color. I wore navy because I wanted to be a team player.Am I always that willing to be a team player for the Kingdom? Do I always dress in a way that would cause anyone to wonder if I’m a Christ-follower? Does that thought ever enter my mind? The Lord knows.

We beat our fearsome opponent and went home celebrating our hard fought victory, our talented coaches, and the ability to enjoy a sport that can have positive impacts on the players and its fans. Still, it was in the context of the temporal. Even as a sports fan, I must never let the temporal outweigh the spiritual. There is no comparison between the two. Lord, You know. Please help me to know.

LORD of all, You know every detail of each life and every thought. Forgive us for ever losing sight of your majesty and worthiness of all praise. Give us a thirst for righteousness and a desire to keep You enthroned – high and lifted up. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

• Camille Anding is a child of God since age 12.
• Wife of 53 years to Othel; mother to Tahya and Eli;l grandmother to seven grandchildren and two great-grands.
• Retired from photography business with Othel. Now carry cameras on their travel adventures.
• Freelance writer, regular contributor to Hometown magazines, and dedicated to living “my utmost for His highest.”

Lost and Found

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.” John 11:25

The crime rate in Jackson appears to be spilling over into its surrounding municipalities. Thievery is a chosen profession for a growing segment in this crime rate.

With those glaring facts, Othel surveyed our home and felt we needed a tighter security than wooden doors and tiny window latches. A security store advertising metal doors and impregnable windows seemed to have the solution to our vulnerable condition.

We visited their shop and agreed that their solutions could be our solutions. A name on the dotted line and a check put us on their work list for the following week.

The installation process involved several workers with a trailer-load of equipment and noise-makers.

A foreman explained again the safety of the doors and windows and the importance of keeping the door keys near the doors.

“Once you lock these from the inside, no one can get in and you can’t get out without this key. If fire should break out, you better know where to find this key!”

That brought more than a little concern to my thought processes because Othel and I find that we spend a respectable amount of time looking for things. I lose my phone or he misplaces his. The car keys possess retractable legs that they use at night to run and hide from us. His wallet is not the stay-home kind, and my purse likes to visit all over the house.

I try to keep my watch and rings in the same place each night, but try is not in concrete! My drop-off spots vary. If Othel looks for his watch today, he helps me look for mine tomorrow.

With that concerned background, Othel and I resolved and made covenant vows that we would always keep the door keys in the same spot, close to the door. So far, we have not searched a single time for door keys.

It’s because those keys have earned their importance and they also make a perfect reminder of the key to eternal life. Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” John 14:6

I’ve heard people say, “That’s too exclusive; all religions eventually lead to heaven. Sorry for them, but that’s false. If I ever wake to smoke in our home, I will reach for the door key; the car keys won’t work!

Heavenly Father, Thank You that You called my name, and I responded in repentance and faith. Thank You that the Way is open to all who call on your name. Open our hearts, minds, and lips to proclaim that truth. Amen

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

• Camille Anding is a child of God since age 12.
• Wife of 53 years to Othel; mother to Tahya and Eli;l grandmother to seven grandchildren and two great-grands.
• Retired from photography business with Othel. Now carry cameras on their travel adventures.
• Freelance writer, regular contributor to Hometown magazines, and dedicated to living “my utmost for His highest.”

Quiet!

“Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.” Psalm 37:7

“Silence is golden.” We’ve all heard this proverb that dates back as early as the 9th century. I would add that in this generation, “Silence is scarce!”

It’s not unusual for crowds of young or old to be noisy, but I’ve noticed that noise is comfortable among small groups or even individuals. The human race is addicted to sound waves traveling through “i” gadgets, TVs, radios, and intercoms. We’ve become addicted to noise devices that fill a room, a stadium, or a single set of ears.

In my observations of noise versus silence, I’ve noticed that out of all God’s creation, it’s the humans that are the biggest noisemakers. We could take some lessons from the animal kingdom. I suppose all or most animals make some sort of noise, but it’s not constant. Horses and cows graze in silence, ducks swim quietly, and kittens purr softly.

Observe a butterfly – busy gliding from one flower to the next without making a single sound in all of its activity. Bees’ tiny motors hum, but it’s a soft hum. Flowers expend much power in turning from a small bud to an open blossom but never make a sound. The morning glories that have come up volunteer near a backyard trellis will take hold of that trellis, climb it, display a drift of blooms without a single sound. Our Yoshino cherry tree deserves a grand prize blue ribbon each spring for its parade of blooms, but it does it all in total silence – doesn’t even make a whisper.

I’m convinced that we miss a lot by choosing noise over silence in so much of our day. We leave no quiet time to meditate or concentrate. There’s no space left for the still, small voice of God to speak to our hearts. F. B. Meyer said, “God’s best cannot be ours apart from the patient waiting in His holy presence.” My spirit leads me to believe this is a truth that too few Christians understand or realize.

A devotional I read recently had this anonymous statement: “The world’s mighty men have grown in solitude.” Another thought to consider is this one: “Learn the ‘art of stillness.’ It is safety, solace, strength.”

Who knows what we might learn or be inspired to do if we chose silence as a companion for at least a portion of our day? God’s word in Isaiah 30:15 reminds us of His love and concern for His children: “For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, ‘In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.’ But you were unwilling.”

It seems that the weight room is not the only place to acquire strength. A quiet corner emptied of all noise just might hold unlimited power. But are we willing?

Holy God, the One who can thunder over the universe or speak in whispers, teach us the beauty of waiting before You in silence, to meditate silently on your Word. Help us to understand that noise will always drown out a whisper. I ask in the Name of Jesus. Amen.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

• Camille Anding is a child of God since age 12.
• Wife of 53 years to Othel; mother to Tahya and Eli;l grandmother to seven grandchildren and two great-grands.
• Retired from photography business with Othel. Now carry cameras on their travel adventures.
• Freelance writer, regular contributor to Hometown magazines, and dedicated to living “my utmost for His highest.”

A Stuffer

For the word of God is alive and active, sharper than any double-edged sword. Hebrews 4:12

It’s been an on-going saga in my life this year – what to keep and what to discard. The irony in those decisions has been the value placed on the items. It’s been easier to part with a large piece of furniture or family antique than it has an old letter or kindergarten art work.

That box that most mothers stash in the cabinet or under the bed was full of finger paint drawings, get-well cards from Tahya and Eli, and lots of Mother’s Day cards. Call me a nostalgia geek, but even I know I kept way too much stuff.

Even as I tried to discard I spent too much time re-reading them or strolling down memory lane. I would wrestle with what to do, but the question that always turned me toward the garbage can was this: Who will want to keep these when I’m gone?

I knew the answer. No one! Eli’s drawing of our family with its peanut-shaped images on an 11×14 piece of yellowed paper wouldn’t bring any real sentiment to his own little ones. I was only saving things for my children to discard.

However, I dug my heels in on a few items. One was Mother’s address book. It’s a spiral-bound hardback with almost every page covered in names and addresses. One can follow friends and family members’ moves by the list of changes. Phone numbers are jotted on the backs of pages and some old friends are (sadly) crossed through.

Last week I was needing a relative’s address and instead of googling it I turned to Mother’s address book. It caused me to drop on the edge of the bed and read through the names. I lingered – and lingered. It was her handwriting, and I treasured every curve and uniform letter. I remembered her ministry of letter-writing and newspaper-clipping ministry and how many times she had used this catalog of names. She never painted canvasses like her own mother, but she had mailed so many one-of-a-kind treasures in an envelope.

Someday Mother’s address book will be tossed to the garbage, but it will be someone else to do it. For me, it’s one small way I can still touch what she touched.

Sometimes I open God’s Word, and I experience a similar happening. The words I read are God-breathed and God-inspired. No, they’re not the original tablets that Moses held or the scrolls like Isaiah carried, but God’s Spirit is there. It’s a visit with Him each time I read from the Bible’s pages. How we should treasure every word and each visit.

Father, when I think about your word being God-breathed, written to your children, I am in awe. How can we praise You enough? It’s hard to imagine – words to me from the Creator! May our praises never stop! Amen.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

• Camille Anding is a child of God since age 12.
• Wife of 53 years to Othel; mother to Tahya and Eli;l grandmother to seven grandchildren and two great-grands.
• Retired from photography business with Othel. Now carry cameras on their travel adventures.
• Freelance writer, regular contributor to Hometown magazines, and dedicated to living “my utmost for His highest.”