Christian Faith

I Am My Beloved’s

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

HEART RIVER TRQUS BRIGHT“I am my Beloved’s, and His desire is toward me”  

(Song of Solomon 7:10)

Jesus loves you, and His desire is toward you. That word toward is very significant here, because most people who love someone have a desire for them — rather than toward them. And, in truth, Jesus does desire to have you for His own, but that’s only so that He can give you everything He is and everything He’s accomplished for you. He wants you to have everything He has. And He’s already paid the price for you to possess it. You don’t have to do anything to earn all that He has for you. The only requirement on your part is that you receive Him into your own spirit (your own heart) and make Him Lord of your life. Once He’s in that position, He can begin pouring into you all that you need and all that will make your life blessed and successful now — and throughout eternity.

In Ephesians, chapter 1, the Word of God tells us that God accomplished total victory over every force of evil through Jesus’ work of redemption, and when He raised Jesus from the grave, He gave Him absolute, eternal power and authority over every person and thing in the entire universe. Then the Word says that when God did that, He was exercising the “greatness of His power toward us.”  It was all done for us. You see, God’s power is always moving and working to bring us good. It’s always toward us. The truth is that if you become a child of God — by accepting Jesus Christ as your Lord — you just can’t get away from God’s power working good for you.

Men and women for generations have sought high and low for some kind of religion that would satisfy them. They’ve studied one religious system after another and experimented with their various tenets and practices. But not one — not one single religion on the face of the earth — can offer man a total deliverance from his own base nature and from the evil that exudes from that nature. Not one of those religions can offer a fresh start, free of charge, and a nature purified and changed into the nature of the God who created us in the first place. Every religion out there tells us that we, somehow, have to do something, to earn a better life and a better eternity. We have to work at it, and then may not obtain our goal in the end after all.

But Christianity is NOT a religion. True Christianity is simply the Father God loving His own children, and being loved by them. It’s a family, pure and simple. Every parent who is worthy to be called a parent is constantly aware that he loves his child more than his own life, and his constant desire is toward his child — to meet his needs, heal his wounds, and bless him with gifts. And God is no different. That’s His desire as well. And through Jesus, the first Son, He calls all of us into His loving arms, desiring us to receive His love and become sons and daughter as well, so that He can exert His power toward us for good.

If you know this wonderful Father, you know what I’m talking about. But if you do not yet know Him, today can be your day. He already loves you, His desire is already toward you. Call out to Jesus and let His exceeding great power work a total regeneration in you today — and for eternity.

 

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My Darkest Night

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

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My darkest night has come,
The sorrow is so deep.
My grieving heart’s entombed —
So empty it can’t weep.

The storm around me rages,
And uses up my strength.
While memories and images
Besiege my mind at length.

But through the savage gale,
A voice so sweet and clear,
Rings out and then prevails;
Bids me let Him draw near.

For in His lovely presence,
The howling winds of grief
Stand still. His very essence
Is all-consuming peace.

His light condemns the darkness
And forces its retreat.
The night to dawn must hearken,
And death to Life concede.

 

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Killer Storms Are NOT From God

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Clouds & Sky 129The state of Florida, as well as the whole southeastern coast of the United States, has been preparing this week to face one of the most horrendous storms in the century. Our Gulf Coast — particularly Texas — is currently trying to recover from a storm almost as devastating.  I have friends and family in both places, and their well-being is a priority in my heart. I live in the Heartland of the United States. Most years during the spring and fall, when our seasons undergo a major change, our section of the country, along with the section to the south and east of us, experiences frequent occurrences of severe weather. In recent years, there have been some devastating storms that brought hundreds of deaths and destruction to massive portions of the Midwest.

When horrific events like these killer storms develop, there are a number of people who automatically suppose that God is behind those events — or that He deliberately allows them as a way of teaching or punishing the people on earth. Nothing could be further from the truth, and in response to a number of misguided comments on that subject, by both Christians and non-Christians, I am posting this article in an effort to clear the record and bring to light the truth — both about devastating storms and about God.

Jesus said, in John 10:10, “The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy; I came that they might have life, and might have it abundantly.”

And there you have it, friends. Those words say it all. That one statement by Jesus gives us the definitive answer to the question of whether hurricanes, tornadoes,  and other “killer storms” are from God.  Do they kill?  Do they destroy?  Then according to Jesus Christ Himself, they are not from God.  Where do they come from?  They come from an aberration and twisted use of the natural elements that is orchestrated by Satanic power in operation on this earth.

God made all natural elements, including the elements of weather, to be a blessing to man.  And even in Psalm 8, He tells us that man is to rule over “all the works” of God’s hands.  But man rebelled against God and His purposes in the garden, and listened to Satan instead.  His actions in response to Satan put man in a position of subservience to the devil, and that sin opened the door to a curse that would effect all of the created earth. (Gen. 3 / Rom. 8).  When man gave Satan the right to operate in this earth, Satan then moved into a position of being able to take hold of any of the natural elements, adulterate them, twist them, and use them to inflict evil upon mankind — and the planet itself. He operates this way on a regular basis and then tries to convince the world that God causes it all. That’s Satan’s M.O.

However, that is not the last word in the story.  God’s Covenant with man — which He calls a “covenant of peace” (Is.54) — restored man’s right to rule over the elements again — only through that covenant — and to take authority over those demonic powers.  Even in the Old Covenant, the Lord expected His faithful servants to know how to use that authority over the natural elements.  When Jesus is with His disciples in the boat, they are all still living and operating under the Old Covenant with God. But notice that when they are struck by a severe storm (Matt.8), He tells them that they are showing a serious lack of faith in responding in fear rather than authority.  He finally stills the storm for them, but at the same time, He asks them “Where is your faith?”

Please note that He did not say, “God sent this storm as judgement for the evil that’s been going on.”  Nor did He say, “God is sending this storm to test your faith.” We can’t believe two contradictory things at the same time, friends. We either believe these horrible storms are from the hand of God — or we believe Jesus and recognize them as an evil that we are supposed to take authority over.

As part of the New Covenant, Jesus literally bought back man’s right to govern in the earth as He was intended to do.  We as believers are made the Body of Christ, and since the government is now upon His shoulders – His body – us – we are supposed to be “governing.”  (Is. 9).  The devil still has the right that man gave him to operate in this earth, but we now have absolute power and authority to bind his power and activity wherever we will make the effort.

Since the finished work of Jesus, we are now literally in the highest position of authority on this planet.  Philippians 2 says that every created thing — in heaven, on earth, and under the earth — must bow its knee to and obey the name of Jesus Christ.  Do we believe that?   Ephesians 1 says that Jesus reins over all principalities and powers and that He is the head of His body – which is the Church.   If we are His body, and all things are “under His feet,” then all things are under us as well.  Do we believe that?   Jesus made it so clear: “Behold, I have given you authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall injure you.”

We now have the blood-bought spiritual authority living in us to take command over every natural thing.  All natural things were created by a Spirit God, and they will respond to the commands of the Spirit God in us.

What do we do with that authority?  In Mark 11 — as well as several other scriptures in the Gospels — Jesus says that if we will speak to a mountain or a tree and tell it to move, and not doubt in our hearts, but believe that it will come to pass, we will have what we say.  And He clearly demonstrated that the same action works with a storm.  Do we believe Him?

Unfortunately, some Christians seem to think that all natural calamities are some kind of judgment from God.  There will certainly come a time for God’s judgment to be unleashed — at the end — but that time is not now, if we are to believe the commission of Jesus Christ to His church.  Jesus said twice in the Gospel of John that He did NOT come to judge the world, but to save it.  He then told His disciples, and all of those who would become disciples, to follow His specific examples and continue to carry on that work of taking the Gospel to the world.  That being the case, we need to get into agreement with Jesus and say God is not judging right now; He is delivering the grace and mercy of the Gospel of salvation. 

HOWEVER: We do need to be aware that when a nation or a people deliberately throw God’s Word in His face and deliberately take a stand or practice things that God clearly says are against Him and His ways, they are literally opening the door to an attack from demonic power.  When we do those things, we set ourselves up for that attack — even invite it.  God isn’t sending it, but it will come.  But even in that kind of situation, God has repeatedly shown mercy and turned destruction away from people — even in the Old Covenant — because faithful believers prayed and took a stand of faith.

Many times in my own life, I have experienced the power of God’s Word and the name of Jesus Christ taking authority over destructive storms, and as a result, I’ve seen those storms dissipated, turned away, and or destroyed.  Many other believers have experienced the same thing.  And yes, I’m talking about deadly tornadoes and hurricanes as well as severe thunderstorms.

But when you are facing a huge battle, sometimes you need a huge, united front to win.  The need in this nation is for a strong united front of faith on the part of the Christian believers to stand in authority against these deadly storms and weather systems.  This whole massive movement of deadly, destructive weather is nothing but a spiritual war being waged by demonic forces, using natural elements.  We must learn to recognize it as such and command the demonic forces to take their hands off — and command those elements to obey the purposes of God in the name of Jesus Christ.

Come on, Church!  Rise up and take your authority! If true believers in this nation will unite in faith, take a strong stand on God’s Word, and take authority over these destructive storms in the name of Jesus Christ, the storms and elements of weather have no choice but to obey.

Daily Post Prompt: Overcome 

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‘Repaired By Love – Available in Paperback on Amazon

| Sandra Pavloff Conner
A story of the redemption of two men who had given up hope of ever having a life worth living. A story that will warm your heart and inspire your faith in the amazing power of God’s love:
REPAIRED AMAZON COVER - BLUE TEXT - FRONTTall, with handsomely chiseled features and the bronzed skin of his Cherokee ancestors, Lionel Butler has caused more than one girl’s heart to flutter. But he never takes much notice, because he’s convinced he’s destined to be a bad husband and father. He’s also turned his back on the God his mother served, and since her death, he’s convinced he’ll never be a believer. But when he meets Kana Wallace, a devout Christian, his surprising feelings for her force him to stop and re-evaluate his reasons for a lack of faith.
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Kana Wallace never dreamed the day would come when she was faced with the need to choose between a man she loves and her promise to God that she would never commit herself to a relationship with an unbeliever. Will prayer and faith be enough to keep these two troubled people from making the biggest mistake of their lives?
Available in paperback & digital HERE.
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Daily Post Prompt: Heal — ‘Healing Is For You!’

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

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I have much to share about today’s Daily Post prompt: heal. And the best way I know to do that is to share two links. The first is a video reading of Chapter One of my book Healing Is For You! I hope it encourages and lifts all my readers. The second link is to the Amazon page where you can find the book in paperback or digital, in case you’d like your own copy.

Now, have a blessed and healthy day!

You can click on the book to go to the Amazon store and purchase a copy.

HEALING AMAZON BOOK COVER - FRONT ONLY w. shadow

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Epiphany – in Cinquain

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

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Sixth day.
Epiphany:
God manifests His love.
His son has paid the price for sin
For all.

Rejoice!
Emmanuel
Has come to die then rise
Again to give eternal life
To all.

Shout out!
Epiphany
Reveals the joyful news:
The Christ has opened up the way
To God.

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The Rescue: A Christmas Story – Part 3

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Find Part 1 HERE.

boy-praying-1-itense-bronzePART 3

At the end of the program, all the children received bags full of treats to help celebrate the Lord’s birthday, and as Papa and Mama led David out of the church, they turned once more toward the corner where he had spent three lonely, fearful days. “We’ll just sit here a short minute, David, and make sure your Mama isn’t right around here looking for you,” Papa said, and sat down, putting one arm around Mama and the other around David. But after about ten minutes, Papa shifted his position so that he could look right into David’s eyes. Mama looked over Papa’s shoulder, her face registering her pain for the boy’s situation.

“David,” Papa said, clearing his throat a little. “I know you want to believe your mama is coming back here to get you. But you see, son, I believe she was having some big problems and didn’t want you to have to go through them too. I believe she probably knew she couldn’t find another place to live with you, and that’s why she didn’t pack any of your clothes. She packed only her own, because she intended to have you sit here until someone came along who could help you and give you a good place to live. A place like she couldn’t give you.” Papa could see the tears glistening in David’s eyes just before the boy turned his head to look up the street as far as he could see, and then turned to look in the other direction one more time.

“Now, we could let you stay here, of course,” Papa continued. “But Mama and I …” he turned slightly to see his wife’s face, and she smiled at him through her own tears and nodded, so Papa continued. “Mama and I would like to have you come and stay with us as long as you’d want to.” He stopped and waited.

David looked at him and then at Mama. “Please come home with us, David,” Mama said in almost a whisper. “We’ll love you just like we did our own little boys years ago.”

“You can decide, David,” Papa said. “But we need to decide right now, because I don’t want to keep Mama out in this cold any longer. So what do you say?”

Once more David looked up and down the street, and then back at Papa. Suddenly he put his hands to his face and whisked away the tears that tracked down his cheeks. Papa could see decision in his eyes, and he knew the moment the boy faced the truth that his mother was not ever coming back to him. He heard Mama whisper just behind him, “Please help him, Jesus.”

David stood to his feet. “Okay,” he said.

Mama gave a glad cry and jumped up to gather the boy into her arms. Papa forced the tears filling his eyes to stay where they were, and he reached out to rest a hand on David’s shoulder. “You made the decision your Mama would have wanted you to make, Son,” he said. Then he stood up, putting an arm around each of them again. “Now,” he said with authority, “let’s go home and celebrate Christmas!”

Which is exactly what they did. And before David went to sleep, Mama and Papa told him more about the Jesus he’d learned about in the Christmas play. They told him how Jesus took all of people’s sins so that they could become good in God’s sight. They told him about the Father who loved little boys and welcomed them into His own family, and how they’d never have to be alone, no matter what, if they would allow the Father and Jesus to come and live in their hearts. So David made another right decision that night and offered Jesus a home in his own heart.

Just as they were getting into their own bed, Mama said, “Oh, my goodness Papa! We forgot about listening to the Lord about our $700.00!” But Papa reached out to take her hand in his. “Not to worry, Mama. I believe the Lord has shown us where to use the money this year, don’t you?” he asked, nodding toward the bedroom next door to theirs where David slept peacefully.

“Oh, of course!” she said, and giggled as he hadn’t heard her do since their own boys had been toddlers. “Clothes and books and toys and schooling, and so many other things. Isn’t it exciting, Papa? The Lord has trusted us with another little boy to raise for Him!”

So they did. And the days and weeks passed. Mama and Papa simply told friends and acquaintances that David was a friend of the family whose mother had become seriously ill and needed him to stay with the Larsons until she was well. In their own hearts and minds, they believed she would have had to be spiritually and emotionally sick to make the choices she’d made.

Friends were glad to see how much the elderly couple enjoyed giving the boy a safe, loving home, and they approved when Papa and Mama asked a young mother who home-schooled her own three children to add David to her classes. Papa used the $700.00 to help pay for the schooling expenses.

And the months rolled along, into the next year, and on to the next Christmas. That next Christmas Eve, Papa announced after their lunch, “It’s time for us to take a drive.”

So all three of them settled into the car, warm and cozy and ready for some kind of adventure. But as they neared their destination and David saw where they were going, he began to feel a tightness in his throat. His stomach began to ache, and tears burned his eyes.

Sure enough, Papa pulled the car into a parking place right beside the corner where they had first seen David sitting on a bench. And the bench was still there. “Let’s get out,” Papa said. He walked around the car and opened Mama’s door and then the back door for David.

“No … please!” David said, panic in his voice. “I’m sorry! Whatever I did that was wrong, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again! Please don’t leave me here again!” And then the tears that had started coursing down his cheeks became a flood of sobbing. “Please don’t make me stay here. I’ll be good. I promise!”

Papa and Mama were stunned. Mama sat down in the back seat, grabbed the boy, and held him close, “Shhh,” she said. “What’s wrong, dear?”

Papa knelt down in front of the door, reached in, and took David’s hand. “David … David … we’re not going to leave you here! Is that what you thought?”

David nodded his head, sniffing back tears as well as he could and leaning hard into Mama’s shoulder.

“Oh, no, no, no!” Mama said.

“No indeed, David,” Papa added. “We’d never give you up. Not ever! I’ve just brought us all back here so that we could remember how the Lord first brought us together. And I thought it would be good for us to sit here a minute and pray and thank Him for making us a family.”

“Would you like for us to do that, David?” Mama asked.

Sniffing again and trying to get the last of his crying under control, David looked at one and then the other with wide, surprised eyes. “You’re not going to leave me here?”

“Never, Son!” Papa said. “You’re part of our family for as long as you want to be. Just like you’re part of God’s family forever!”

So they got out of the car and sat on the bench together, hand in hand. They prayed and thanked the Lord that Christmas Eve for His love and mercies in their lives. Then the months rolled by again, and the next Christmas Eve found them at the same bench, praying the same prayer. They made the same journey the next Christmas Eve … and the next … and the next ….

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“Pastor McKenzie?” The voice seemed to come from far away. “Pastor McKenzie?” It came again more insistently. David shook himself slightly, realizing that his thoughts had been so concentrated on the testimony he’d been giving that he’d almost forgotten he was on an international Christian television program.

“I’m sorry,” he said, smiling apologetically now. “I was so caught up in remembering.”

“Do you still go back to that same spot every Christmas Eve?” the interviewer asked, her own voice husky with her response to his emotions.

“Yes,” he said, discreetly wiping the dampness from beneath his eyes with two fingers. Releasing a quiet sigh, David McKenzie leaned back in his chair and continued. “Yes, I still go back every year, and … and that’s also why I make sure that I drive one of the buses throughout those neighborhoods every Christmas Eve and pick up all the kids I can personally and take them to our church service.”

“Not many pastors of such a huge inner-city church would drive the bus themselves. It must be a heavy load of work, considering the fact that you have the Sunday School classes for several thousand children every week, plus all of the extra Christmas season services where you serve meals and hand out clothes and gifts to the thousands in need in the city.

“And you’ve begun similar work with children in similar situations in other nations, is that correct?”

“Yes. There are so many hurting children, and we touch only a fraction of them,” he answered.

“I’m sure after almost three decades of serving the Lord, you’ve had opportunities to move into many other areas of ministry. You’re a powerful preacher in your own right, and I’m sure you have connections that would open any number of doors to you. Have you ever thought about doing anything else besides reaching the hurting children in inner cities?”

He paused a long minute before answering. “I can’t do anything else,” he said, looking almost surprised that she had asked the question. “I can’t do anything else!”

“So … you would never consider turning your attention to any other kind of evangelism? Something on a larger scale that would bring you more into the public eye?”

David McKenzie smiled. It was a knowing smile. A smile that spoke of contentment and peace. And he looked directly into the eyes of the young woman asking the question. “No,” he said quietly, shaking his head gently. “No, I’d never considere that alternative even for one minute.”

“That’s interesting. May I ask why?”

“Because it’s only on the streets of New York, and countless cities like it, driving the bus through those ugly neighborhoods of ragged, hungry, frightened, hopeless kids to take them to Jesus … it’s only there that I can rescue the person I’m looking for.”

The interviewer’s eyes grew wide as she asked, “And who is that, Pastor McKenzie?”

“Myself,” he said, smiling at her as another trickle of tears made its way down his weathered cheeks. “Every time I pick up one of those hopeless kids … I’m really picking up myself.”

~ THE END ~

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The Rescue: A Christmas Story – Part 2

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

You can find Part 1 here.

boy-praying-1-itense-bronzePART 2

“He’s been there all morning, do you think, Papa?” Mama asked, her tone beginning to sound worried. Papa looked at the boy as they passed and noticed that he kept looking in both directions, stretching his neck as if looking for someone or something in particular.

“It is peculiar, Mama,” he answered, but traffic was so heavy right at that time, that he had to give his full attention to working through it and getting into the correct lane to make their way back home. Concern nagged at him as he sat down to his noonday meal, and then troubled him off and on as he sat in his recliner and dozed during the afternoon. When the couple retired for the night, they prayed especially for the little boy they’d seen on the bench and his family.

The next morning Papa helped Mama finish her Christmas baking. She always made cranberry nut bread for four of the people in their church and popcorn balls and fudge for all of the children to take home after the Christmas Eve program. They stopped to have a ham sandwich and a cup of hot cider while the treats cooled enough for packaging. Then they began to wrap the gifts in gay paper and tie them with carefully worked bows, adding a candy cane to the top of each package.

When the last of the gifts was finished and set on the kitchen counter to wait for delivery, Mama made a meatloaf, while Papa scrubbed potatoes and prepared them for baking along with the meat.

“You know I can’t help thinking about that little boy we saw yesterday,” Mama said quietly as she worked. “I wonder who he was waiting for.”

“Probably some of his family who were doing last-minute Christmas shopping.”

“But wouldn’t you think they would have taken him with them?”

Papa looked up from the potato he was working on, thinking for a moment before he spoke. “No … not necessarily. Especially not if they were buying his gift.” He laid down his potato absentmindedly. “Still … you’d think they’d be a little hesitant to leave him there alone for so long.”

“You don’t suppose something happened to them do you, Papa?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, of course, Mama, but I’m sure at least one or two police officers must have passed by their yesterday, and if something had been wrong, I’m sure the boy would have told them.”

Mama nodded her head and carried her meatloaf to the oven. “Of course. I hadn’t even thought about that.” She turned to look back at him. “Are the potatoes ready?”

“Yes, here they are,” he said carrying four potatoes over to the stove and laying them on the pan she had ready to slip into the oven beside the meatloaf.

After dinner, Papa read the newspaper to Mama, and then they watched a Christmas program on television. As they retired, they prayed once more for the young boy and his family and asked the Lord to show them by tomorrow what His plan was for the money He had helped them save this year.

First thing the next morning Papa drank hot coffee, wolfed down some of Mama’s gingerbread, and hurried off to the church to turn the heat up for the evening program. He also wanted to make sure that all the different props for the Christmas program were in place so that they would be easy to find at the last minute before the service began. But as he neared the block where the church stood, he was horrified to see that the little boy from two days before was still sitting on that same concrete bench. Papa hurriedly found a parking place close to the church and then walked back to the corner and sat down on the end of the bench opposite the young boy.

He could see that the child was very cold, even though he had on a heavy coat and a knit cap pulled down over his ears. He had his hands in his coat pockets, but once when he pulled a hand from his pocket to wipe his runny nose, Papa saw that he also had on gloves. He didn’t want to frighten the boy, but he felt frightened himself at the thought that this child could possibly have been sitting here for more than two days.

Why hadn’t the police done something about it? He thought about that question for a while, but then decided that there was so much crime and so many people with serious problems that possibly the police officers who were responsible for this area of town were unusually busy this time of year, just trying to take care of all of those other situations.

“Hi there, Son,” Papa said, his voice friendly and encouraging.

The big brown eyes just looked at him for a moment, and Papa saw a shiver run through the little body. “Hi,” the boy answered in little more than a whisper.

“I’m Jules Larson,” Papa said, holding out one gloved hand toward the boy. Slowly, the child pulled a hand from his pocket and reached it over to shake the old man’s hand.

“I’m David,” he said.

Papa nodded, letting go of David’s hand and watching him put it immediately back into his pocket. “Haven’t I seen you here on this corner for that last couple of days?”

David nodded, but didn’t speak. Instead, he just looked up and down the street again, much as he had been doing the other times Papa had passed by this corner.

“Well … you haven’t been sitting here all day and night, though, have you?” he asked.

David looked back at Papa and nodded again. Papa felt a cold wave of fear move through him and called out to Jesus under his breath.

“But …” Papa started to speak again, but then he stopped. He needed to figure out exactly what to say. After another minute, he sighed deeply and tried again. “But what about your family, David? Where are your mom and dad?”

David looked once more down the street and then turned his eyes on Papa. “My mom’s comin’ back for me,” he said, his lips trembling. Papa wasn’t sure if they trembled from the cold or because the boy was on the verge of tears.

“Where did your mom have to go?”

David looked up and down the street again, and then turned to look behind him once. He looked back at Papa and shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. She just said I should wait right here.”

“Do you live close to here?”

David shook his head. “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean? Did you used to live close?”

This time David nodded. “Unhuh,” he said, pointing back down the street. “Over in that other block. We lived in one of the apartments on the very top of that old brown building.”

“Well, why don’t you live there now?”

David shrugged his shoulders again. “Don’t know. Mom just said we couldn’t live there anymore. She put some of her clothes in a bag and told me to put on my coat, and then we left.”

“But did she put some of your clothes in a bag too?”

David shook his head. “I thought maybe she was goin’ to buy me some new clothes.”

Papa sighed, not liking the thoughts that came crowding into his mind with the boy’s last words. “So she took her clothes with her, but not any of yours?”

David nodded. “And when we got to this corner, she told me to sit down here and wait.”

“Is that all she said?”

David nodded. “Sometimes she goes away for a day or two, but then she comes home again, and we have something to eat. So I know she’ll be comin’ back for me,” he said, lifting his chin as if to ward off any rebuttal of that idea from the old man. But just then his lips quivered again and two tears slipped down his chapped cheeks.

Papa sighed inwardly and prayed silently with all of his heart. What was he to do? He couldn’t leave this little boy out here another night, and it was obvious to him that if his mother hadn’t bothered to pack any of his clothes, she had not intended to keep him with her. Should he go to the police? That’s probably what the police would tell him was the right thing. But, somehow in his heart, he just didn’t think he could bring himself to do that just yet. They would turn him over to the authorities, and he might end up in almost any kind of place while the legal aspects of his case were considered.

Papa shook his head silently. No … he couldn’t just turn him over to the police. What would Mama tell him to do?

He sat up straighter. Of course! That was the answer! Mama would say to bring him home and give him some warm food and a warm bed for tonight at least … and then they would pray for the Lord to show them what to do after that. But first, he’d have to do the necessary work at the church. He looked back at David.

“Well, I’ll tell you what, David. I think maybe your mama might have had to go farther than she planned to try to find another place to live. And I don’t think she’ll be able to come back for you for a while. But my wife and I … we used to have two little boys. They died in the war, and we miss them. We’d like to have you come to our house and eat supper with us and maybe sleep in one of the warm beds that we used for our boys. We could always come back here tomorrow and see if your mama is here waiting for you.” He knew that wasn’t a sensible plan, but he was counting on this boy, who looked no more than nine years old, to be too cold and tired and hungry to figure out how improbable it was. David was looking at him with wide eyes, full of indecision. He looked up and down the street again and than back at Papa.

“I’ll tell you what,” Papa continued. “I was going to go into that little coffee shop over there and get me some soup. How about you come with me, and I’ll get both of us some, and we can talk it over.”

David chewed on his bottom lip, and Papa could see the temptation on his face. What must it feel like to sit on this bench for nearly three whole days and have nothing to eat?

“What do you say?” he urged David again.

Finally, the boy nodded his head, and Papa stood and held out his hand to take David’s. Together they walked to the restaurant across the street, and once seated at the table, Papa ordered two steaming bowls of soup and added a glass of milk for David. He would have liked to have ordered him a big, juicy hamburger too, but knowing he probably hadn’t eaten anything in more than two days, he was afraid too much food at once might make the child sick.

Papa sipped his soup slowly, not really hungry yet himself, but David ate as if he were truly starved. “Did you have anything to eat yesterday?” Papa asked the boy.

David only shook his head and kept eating.

“Well, how about the day before?”

David shook his head again and picked up his bowl to drink the rest of the liquid from the soup.

“Well, I’ll tell you what, David. I could sure use some help to do my work at the church down the street. I wonder if you’d help me there for a little while, and then we’ll come back to the corner and sit a minute, just to see if your mama’s coming. Then, if we don’t see her, you come home with me, and we’ll have some more good food to eat. Would you like to do that?”

David thought, his brown eyes dark with the intensity of his concentration as he tried to decide what to do. Finally he nodded. “Okay,” he said, “but just for a little while, and then I gotta go back to the corner.”

“Good enough,” Papa said and rose from the table. They donned their coats and caps once more and made their way back out into the cold and down to the church. A couple of hours work put everything into good shape for the evening festivities. Papa had planned on him and Mama coming to the Christmas program, but he wasn’t sure now just what they would do.

He took David back to the corner, and they sat together for another thirty minutes, while Papa tried to listen to the Lord for instructions. Finally, he looked at David. “Well, now, let’s go home and have supper with Mama,” he said and then chuckled. “That’s what I call my wife, you see. Ever since we had our little boys, I’ve called her Mama, and she’s called me Papa.” For the first time David smiled just slightly, and Papa’s heart was lighter instantly.

“Well, as I was saying, let’s go home and eat some supper with Mama and then we can come to the Christmas program at the church and stop on this corner afterwards, just in case your mama comes along then.”

This time David decided more quickly and got up, reaching out to take Papa’s hand as he did so.

When they arrived home and entered the kitchen, Papa called out. “Mama, I’ve brought a friend home with me. Come and see.”

Mama came scurrying into the kitchen and stopped short as soon as she saw the boy. Her hand flew to her heart as she took in the situation without being told. She had known inside somehow that this little boy had been abandoned on that bench. She just hadn’t been able to shake that feeling, and now as she looked down into his dark, frightened eyes, she knew with certainty that what she’d felt was true. She hurried forward and reached out to shake his hand.

“Why, hello, young man! I’m so glad you’ve come home with Papa.”

“This is David … David McKenzie,” Papa said, “and I invited him to eat with us and then go to see the Christmas program. I even told him we could give him a warm bed to sleep in after the program if his mama hadn’t come back for him yet.”

Mama gave her husband a knowing look and then spoke to David, “We like having boys stay at our house,” she added, looking up at Papa to gauge his response to her use of the word ‘stay.’ He nodded his head in agreement and began helping the boy remove his coat and cap.

“We had a bowl of soup in town, Mama, but we could sure use something else hot,” he told his wife.

“Well, you show David where the bathroom is so he can use the bathroom and wash his hands and face in some warm water, and I’ll see what all I can find.”

After their mid-afternoon snack, Mama tucked David into the bed that her youngest son had used, and the boy had drifted into a deep sleep almost before she left the room. Then she went to an old chest that she kept in the hallway, and digging deep inside, she extracted two sets of clothing just about David’s size. For a moment her eyes clouded with tears, and she held the garments to her chest. But then she braced her shoulders and whispered, “Thank you, Lord, for having me save these garments all these years. You knew that little boy was going to need them.”

After his nap, a warm bath and clean clothes made David feel so much better that he couldn’t keep a smile from sneaking through when he re-entered the kitchen for another snack before they took off for the Christmas program. And during the program, David’s eyes were glued to every single action on the stage. The lights and music fascinated him, and he listened to the words, taking in the story of Jesus’ birth as if he had never heard it before.

(To be continued. Watch for Part 3 on Tuesday)

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‘Healing Is For You!’ On Sale Through November

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

healing-for-you-cover-from-amazon-edited-w-frameIn my country, November is the month of “Thanksgiving.” But since harvest season lasts in many countries from September through November, a lot of people around the world focus on expressing their gratitude for the blessings they have received throughout the year.

One of the things I’m most grateful for is excellent health. It’s probably the most important thing for me personally of all the blessings I enjoy. And the main reason I’m able to enjoy excellent health is because the Lord Jesus Christ has offered me His own health and well-being to take the place of sickness and infirmity in my body — just the way He offers me His own righteousness to take the place of my sinfulness.

I’ve studied God’s Word diligently throughout my lifetime, and I’ve particularly studied what He has to tell us about healing, because the Lord called me into a healing ministry many years ago. As a result of what I’ve learned from His Word — and from 40 years of ministering His healing power to people with all kinds of bodily and mental afflictions — I wrote the book Healing Is For You!  Although I originally wrote it almost 18 years ago, I have updated it three times in the past few years. The book is now in its third edition, and has been purchased and used by churches, Christian schools, and individuals to help stir and strengthen the faith of the sick and help them receive the healing they need from the merciful God who created their bodies and wants them well.

I’ve been blessed many times over by the testimonies of people who have read this book and received their faith so strengthened that they were able to reach out and receive from the Lord miraculous changes in their bodies and another chance at a life of health and wholeness. As a way of expressing my gratitude for my own health and for the health of the many who have received through the ministry of this book, I decided to offer it at a significant sale price throughout the month of November.

So from today, November 3, 2016, through November 30, 2016, Healing Is For You! will be on sale in its e-book format at the Amazon Kindle store for $1.99. That’s a savings of $2.00. You can follow the link to the Kindle store and learn more about the book. It answers a lot of the most common questions concerning healing and how to receive it from the Lord. And it includes many personal testimonies as well as a thorough study of God’s own Word on the subject.

If you do not own a Kindle, that is no problem, because right on the page where you purchase the book, Amazon offers the download of a free Kindle app for any device that you want to use.

If you’re facing illness in your own life, or you  have a loved one who is, think about getting a copy of Healing Is For You!  Because God’s healing really is for you, and He wants to help you receive it from Him today.

 

 

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Daily Post Photo Challenge: Morning

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

I know this is technically a “photo” challenge, but I’m going to stretch it out to a little bit more. To begin with, I’m using a photo from my good friend – and one of my favorite professional photographers – Terry Valley. I’ve posted it previously, but it fits this week’s theme perfectly. I think my story does too.

TERRY'S HORSE # 2 - brightened, new credits

I first saw her just across the ravine that runs through the Morgans’ wooded glen. I’d been walking there since dawn, too restless to lie in bed after hours of being too troubled to sleep. Old Man Morgan’s property bordered ours, and I often walked there, regularly ending up at my favorite spot, where the trees abruptly stopped to open up a small clearing and allow the sun to shine onto it in full power.

That day, as the sun caressed the earth with its warmth, it drew a heavy mist from the ground. A veil of softest silk; a gossamer film that shifted and swirled – light gray and white, but suffused with that iridescent pink that can be found only in the day’s very first kiss of sun.

All was silent except for birdsong, but as anyone who’s walked alone in the woods knows, that song is part of the unique quiet of wooded havens. There was no disturbance of nature from any direction – except within me. I had been besieged for months by a mind that wouldn’t be quiet, and a heart that raged against all that had happened until it sometimes felt as if it would burst from my body, and I would have to die. It raged at me that day. And the thoughts harangued me, until I finally threw myself down on the shallow bank of the ravine and leaned against the tree in exhaustion.

I don’t know for sure how long I sat there, looking out at the open meadow area directly across from me, watching the sun draw the mist and change its color from moment to moment. Finally, my eyes drifted closed. It may have been for a few seconds or for several minutes. Not having worn a watch, I’m still not sure. But suddenly, I opened my eyes and there in the open meadow walked the most beautiful horse I had ever seen. She was white –pure white – from nose to hooves, from mane to tail.

She was just far enough away that for a moment, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t imagined her form as a mirage resulting from the swirling mist. But the longer I watched her, more of the mist began to dissipate, and finally I was convinced of what I was seeing. She moved with stately grace, slowly and easily, but sure of her territory. I was interested to see that she walked the perimeter of the meadow, not stopping to graze, as most horses would, but seeming to delight in just taking the exercise.

I expected her to move out of my line of vision and go back to the stables or the coral where she had came from, but she did not. She came full circle around the meadow and back to the place she had started, right in front of me, just a few feet from the opposite bank of the ravine. She nodded her head a few times, then turned and looked right at me. Blowing softly through her nostrils, she watched me even as I watched her. Then she whinnied quietly, nodded her head at me a second time, turned and walked away, disappearing behind the stand of trees at the edge of the meadow.

I blinked, then closed my eyes. Immediately, I realized that my breathing had changed. My heartbeat had changed. My mind was actually quiet for the first time in months. I took a deep breath and roused myself to look around me more closely. I could see by the changes in the light that the day was well on its way, and some of my responsibilities wouldn’t wait any longer. At the thought of facing what the rest of the day held for me, I started dragging again, but I knew there was something different about me – something fresher and more alive that hadn’t been a part of me when I’d started my walk this morning. I’d need to think about it more later.

The following morning, I woke to realize I had slept five hours. That, in itself seemed a miracle, but I was wide awake at the very first rays of dawn. I threw on my clothes and headed out the door, knowing exactly where I was headed, and wasting no time getting there. I sat, again leaning against the tree, and waited. This time, I heard her before I saw her. She snorted softly a time or two, and I strained my eyes to watch for her. The mist was thick again. It was that time of year, and nearly every day, it took an hour or two for it to burn off completely. Then I saw her – the same as yesterday – walking slowly through the meadow – always within my line of vision. This time, when she was on the back side of the meadow, she stopped and looked across the expanse in my direction. I couldn’t see her eyes up close, of course, but I felt sure she was looking directly at me. And when she whinnied softly the way she had the previous day, I was convinced.

She continued her walk and came back to the edge of the ravine, stopping, blowing softly, looking at me and waiting. Yes, for some reason, she just watched me and waited. Finally, I spoke. “Hello there, Morning Star.” The name flowed out of my mouth without conscious thought on my part. I don’t know why. It just fit. She blew softly again and nodded her head. She liked it. My heart actually skipped a beat, and my breath caught in my throat at the idea that this lovely creature somehow genuinely cared about me and was wanting to communicate that fact to me. It was an amazing experience.

I’d been a Christian believer all my life, and I was firmly convinced that God had personally created every single creature on the earth. I knew that in His Word, He clearly indicated that the human race is responsible for those creatures – not only to bring them into subjection, but also to love them, care for them, meet their needs, and bless them. I had always been a responsible pet owner when I was a boy, and I believed my dogs and cats had always been happy in my care. But this experience was a different thing. This time, it felt as if this animal were taking the responsibility to love me and care for me – even if only for a few moments. I wondered: could God cause these less elevated creatures to know – really know – when humans had needs? And could He — well, admittedly, I believed He could – but would He call on them to help those humans in their times of need?

I didn’t have an answer to that question, but Morning Star, whinnied softly to me again, nodding her head once more, so I started telling her about my life. I poured out more that morning than I had poured out to any other creature under Heaven. Well, in fact, I don’t think I had even said all of those things in so many words to God Himself. He knew them, of course, but there’s a difference.

When I was to the place that I was ready to stop, Morning Star was still watching me intently. Throughout my speech, she had responded with her soft, comforting, blowing sounds and an occasional nod. That was all, but oddly enough, it was all I needed. When I had been quiet for several minutes, she whinnied and turned away, again making her stately way into the copse of trees that evidently held the trail that led to her home.

I went every morning that week, more eager to rise from my bed each day, and realizing when I did so that I had slept more hours each night. By the seventh day, I felt truly rested. I hurried to my place of rendezvous, and, to my delighted surprise, Morning Star, was already there waiting for me. She stood, beautiful in the mist, which held a unique golden-pink glow this morning. “Hello, Morning Star,” I whispered. She greeted me with her familiar soft blowing, nodded her head at me, and began her walk. I wondered at her turning away to walk right after I arrived, but then I realized that she was giving me time to settle in and get quiet enough to receive more help.

When she had come full circle and stopped, looking at me, waiting for me to speak, I realized the I had nothing to pour out to her about my terrible life experiences. My mind was so quiet that I couldn’t even find the haranguing thoughts that had been pounding through it for weeks on end. They were gone. My body felt light, fresh, energized. “Well, Morning Star,” I began, “Believe it or not, I don’t have anything to complain about today. In fact, I’m feeling grateful that I’m alive and well and capable of working.” As I spoke the words, I realized that deep inside I had been experiencing a gentle nudging for the past couple of days — a desire to begin work on projects that I had put off for months. I realized with a thrill to my entire being that I actually wanted to work again! I wanted to live again!

I looked back at my friend. “I’m okay, Morning Star. Really okay! I’m ready to get back into life.”

She whinnied, more forcefully than she had done previously, and nodded her head so energetically that I had to laugh. Then she began to paw the ground and even prance a little. I could never explain to anyone how I knew, but I did know that Morning Star was happy – happy for me! It was one of the most exciting experiences I had ever had. I laughed, and she whinnied, eventually rearing up on her back legs and pawing the air in her own excitement. “Thank you, Morning Sar.” I said, and her response was another excited whinny as she reared up once more and then settled down again.

I rose and slowly made my way across the ravine, thankful that the water merely trickled through it this time of year. She stood still before me, still making her comforting blowing sounds. “Thank you, Morning Star,” I whispered again, reaching up to lay one hand on her nose and the other on her neck. She felt like velvet, and I was not surprised. She turned her head and nuzzled my cheek. I laughed, patting her neck again. “I love you, girl. Thank you for being here.”

After nuzzling my cheek another moment, she stepped away from me and half turned. I glanced upward, knowing the true source of the gift I had been given. I closed my eyes and lifted both hands in the air. “Thank you, Lord,” I whispered.

Opening my eyes, I turned to reach out to Morning Star again, but she was gone. The mist was gone. In its place, glorious sunlight enveloped the meadow and filtered through the trees and shrubs, spreading it’s warm brilliance everywhere. It bathed my face, drying the tears that had begun to course down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold them back, but they were not tears of distress. They were tears of joy and gratitude. I knew Morning Star would not be back. I would miss her sorely for a while, but she had given me a gift that would always be a part of me. I had my life back, and the will to live it.

I have no idea how she came to be in that glen. That she was not a figment of my imagination coupled with the mist, I am quite sure. I touched her with my hands and felt her nuzzle my cheek. But do I believe she actually lived on a segment of land anywhere in that county? Maybe not. Maybe an angel rode her to the glen each morning for that week. Perhaps I’ll never know. But I do know that she is one of God’s creatures, and that He graciously led her to me when I needed her. She loved me when I needed love. I’ll love her for the rest of my life.

 

~~~

 

Celestial Cinquain

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

JUBILANT STARS B & W

I looked
Into the night,
And to my great delight,
I saw a thousand stars begin
To dance.

I heard
No music played,
But could feel the rhythm
Of their pirouetting ‘cross the
Night sky.

Angels
No doubt did sing
And tap their feet in time:
The universe in harmony —
What joy!

 

 

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My Healing Book is Now Digital

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

HEALING COVER FOR KINDLE - RESOLUTION UPJust a note to let my readers know that “Healing Is For You!” is now an e-book. The book (now in its third edition) has been used for years in churches, in Bible and Christian schools, and in personal and group studies. It’s a handbook for anyone who wants help in receiving healing from the Lord — or for those who want to learn more about what God’s Word says concerning healing in order to help others.

The book answers such troubling questions as the following:

Is it always God’s will to heal everybody?
What part does medical science play in God’s healing plan?
Isn’t man promised only 70 or 80 years of life on earth?
Is it God who determines when each person dies?
How can I die if I keep getting healed?
If it’s God’s will to heal, why do so many people fail to receive healing from Him?
If I don’t have faith for healing can I get that faith somehow?

You’ll find the e-book version at the Amazon Kindle Store for $3.99. And if you don’t have  a Kindle, you can download a totally free Kindle app for any device you use.

Check it out. If you don’t need it, purchase one for someone you love who does need it.

 

 

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