Home

I have a quote hanging in my hallway that about sums up my feelings of home,  There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort. - Jane Austen

 Looking back over my life I admit I was the little kid that wanted to go home, sleepovers we're great but only at my home. I loved school but watched the clock for that magical moment when the big hand reached 12 and the little hand reached three. I was going home.

 Even now my friends and family are stunned when I'd rather have a weekend at home than an exotic trip. My heart years for home, when I'm weary or heartsick, content or happy. Home is always my destination.

 What is it about home? From my childhood it was a big old rambling house full of love, good food, my wonderful loud, ever growing family. I never knew who would be at the dinner table that evening, my parents understood community more than anyone I've ever known they made their house a home for so many. Our home was filled with love, prayer, great books, huge pots of warm soup and conversations that fed the soul. My family was extensive and as a child I couldn't differentiate between my blood family and my church family. Both of my parents came from big bustling families so aunts, uncles and cousins were many but my parents never met a need they didn't try to fill, so many young men and women, hungry for faith and family were adopted in. My parents didn't see color; my family was colorful, this was in the turbulent sixties and all around us there were race riots but in the warmth of our home I set on the laps and was sung to and read to by our dearest friend Mother Wells and listened in awe as Brother and Sister Richmond filled our home with their powerful melodic voices. I knew nothing about prejudice, this was my family.  Home was warm, safe, comfortable, peaceful, nourishing to body and soul and filled with love.

 A few years ago our family went through a very hard season and I found myself living in the most beautiful, gracious house of my dreams and nothing I could do would make it feel like home. I remember writing in my journal "I'm so heartsick, I'm homesick but I can't find home." Home is not a house it's a state of mind. I remember packing up and moving away from that grand old home with such joy to move back into a humble little house, full of love and memories.

  I just spent 10 days in a nursing home, it didn't smell good, it wasn't that comfortable, it was heart wrenching but I felt at home...home came to me in old familiar faces from my childhood, faces and voices that have loved me from my crib, holding me, weeping with my brother and I and bringing us casseroles. Home sat up all night with us holding our hands, home sang old songs of heaven with us at our sisters bedside, home held us together, Home held tight to us and wept with us. These same faces and voices held us together two other times as we sent our precious parents home and I knew then as I know now, these were not just my parents but my parents belonged to all of them too, just as I know she may be my blood sister but she was their sister too, my parents made us all family. I knew she felt at home too as crazy as that sounds...she was going home but already home as the sweet faces and voices of our faraway childhood lovingly sang the songs of longing for our real home. One day when we are all fully and wonderfully home will that longing be truly fulfilled I still love home but I know that this is just a foretaste of my real home, I'm so homesick for heaven.....for my real eternal home ...everything here we love is just a shadow of things to come. Jesus understood that longing we have in our soul for home; he said "I go to prepare a place for you." Our heavenly home will bring us the ultimate joy and comfort, it is then, we will find our place in the great heart of God, he is our ultimate longing.


  "I'd Never Miss Heaven for the World"

 Beyond the borders of time  There's a beautiful land
The Word of God, his glory unfurled
And by the grace of God I someday shall call it my home
I'd never miss Heaven for the world

 I'd never miss seeing Jesus
I'd never miss seeing loved ones,  Who've gone on before
I'd never trade forever for a few days down here
I'd never miss Heaven for the world

As for me and my house  We will serve the Lord
Though things of earth may try to allure
For the smile of God means more than sins brief glittering day
I'd never miss Heaven for the world
I'd never miss seeing Jesus  I'd never miss seeing loved ones Who've gone on before
I'd never trade forever for a few days down here
I'd never miss Heaven for the world  No, I'd never trade forever for a few days down here
  I'd never miss Heaven for the world.

Hungry

Today like any other Sunday...I went to worship you.
We worshiped, prayed, read our bulletin and watched the video announcements, hugged our neighbors to the left and to the right, and it was good.

Then settled in to hear your word, a fresh word, a good word and then
I heard the sound of eternity and with it a thousand emotions
and a ripping deep inide my soul, I've missed you like this.. for so long... I've been so hungry for you again like that, for ages it seems. I recognize the sound of revival and holy desperation grips me...I need you or I'm undone! How have we learned to live without your FIRE?

I will remember your wonders, I will tell of your goodness, I was lost in religiosity that day over a decade ago and you changed me forever. I know your voice I recognize your breath I want only you.

I rememeber that day so clear...
The 4 hour ride in the Sopchoppy First Baptist Van. Standing in line for nearly 8 hours, wondering, questioning, anticipation. Cheryl Dunlap, Cindy Wechter and I barely got in the building that night, realizing the main sanctuary was the place to be. We were seperated from our group three unlikely comrads, me; a spirit filled pastor's daughter and wife, Cheryl; a hungry baptist, and a single mom and Cindy; sweet, open and a student of the word. From the first touch of the keys on the keyboard I was gripped. Tears instantly filled my eyes as I watched the whole place erupt in worship. I just couldn't stop crying, I looked at Cindy and Cheryl we were all weeping we just stood there gripping each others hands tears rolling down our faces, we knew this was a holy moment.

The testimonies were alive, the preaching went like arrows to my heart. I had loved God all my life, I prayed, taught a ladies Bible Study, and read the word daily but I was so convicted of my sin and self righteousness that I nearly ran to the alter that night falling on my face, my heart breaking within me, rivers of tears, and a lifetime of misunderstandings from years in ministry washed away, such a strong hatred for my sin, such a passion for purity in my inner heart. forgiveness and love gripped me. I asked God to let me die on the floor that night, My prayer was "never let me be my old self ever again", I was forever changed. I've been to camp meetings and alters all my life, I've experianced the ups and downs, valleys and mountains, I'm no stranger to God's presence but this was different. I was shaking in his presence I was keenly aware of my shame and sin and I was desperate to be cleansed by his blood. It was a holy fear, yet an exilerating awareness that he was here, he was so so real and he was looking at ME. He was searching my heart, finding it full of the world, unforgivness, bitterness, self righteousness and hearbreaking sins that had seperated me from my greatest love. But he wasn't looking at me in disappointment or disgust but in love and the most beautiful merciful way he was holding me bathing me in love and acceptance, cleansing but as the tearss flowed and I heard my voice crying, weeping, sobbing, I knew he was also healing me. Grace and peace like mighty rivers, rushed through me.

Then we made our way back to our seats and looked down from our balcony seats all of us were shaken and in awe yet a bit aprehensive somehow we knew this was unlike anything we had ever experienced before, our lives were shaken to the core.

Home

Home

I have a quote hanging in my hallway that about sums up my feelings of home,
There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort. - Jane Austen


Looking back over my life I admit I was the little kid that wanted to go home, sleepovers we're great but only at my home. I loved school but watched the clock for that magical moment when the big hand reached 12 and the little hand reached 3. I was going home.


Even now my friends and family are stunned when I'd rather have a weekend at home than an exotic trip. My heart years for home, when I'm weary or heartsick, content or happy. Home is always my destination.


What is it about home? From my childhood it was a big old rambling house full of love, good food, my wonderful loud, ever growing family. I never knew who would be at the dinner table that evening, my parents understood community more than anyone I've ever known they made their  house a  home for so many. Our home was filled with love, prayer,  great books, huge pots of warm soup and conversations that fed the soul. My family was extensive and as a child I couldn't differentiate between my blood family and my church family. Both of my parents came from big bustling families so aunts, uncles and cousins were many but my parents never met a need they didn't try to fill, so many young men and women, hungry for faith and family were adopted in. My parents didn't see color; my family was colorful, this was in the turbulent 60's and all around us there were race riots but in the warmth of our home I set on the laps and was sung to and read to by our dearest friend Mother Wells and listened in awe as Brother and Sister Richmond filled our home with their powerful melodic voices. I knew nothing about prejudice, this was my family. Home was warm, safe, comfortable, peaceful, nourishing to body and soul and filled with love.


A few years ago our family went through a very hard season and I found myself living in the most beautiful, gracious house of my dreams and nothing I could do could make it feel like home. I remember writing in my journal "I'm so heartsick, I'm homesick but I can't find home." Home is not a house it's a state of mind. I remember packing up and moving away from that grand old home with such joy to move back into a humble little house, full of love and memories.


I just spent 10 days in a nursing home, it didn't smell good, it wasn't that comfortable, it was heart wrenching but I felt at home...home came to me in old familiar faces from my childhood, faces and voices that have loved me from my crib,  holding my brother and I weeping with us and bringing us casseroles. Home sat up all night with us holding our hands. home sang old songs of heaven with us  at our dear sisters bedside, home held us together,  Home held tight to us and wept with us. These same faces and voices held us together two other times as we sent our parents home and I knew then as I know now these were not just my parents but my parents belonged to all of them too, just as I knew she may be my blood sister but she was their sister too, my parents made us all family.  I knew she felt at home too as crazy as that sounds she was going home but already home as the sweet faces and voices of our faraway childhood lovingly sang the songs of longing for our real home.


I still love home but I know that this is just a foretaste of my real home, I'm so homesick for heaven.....for my real eternal home ...everything here we love is just a shadow of things to come. Jesus understood that longing we have in our soul for home he said "I go to prepare a place for you." Our heavenly home will bring us the ultimate joy and comfort, it's then we will find our place in the great heart of God, he is our ultimate longing.



"I'd Never Miss Heaven for the  World"

Beyond the borders of time
There's a beautiful land
The Word of God, his glory unfurled
And by the grace of God I someday will call it my home
I'd never miss Heaven for the world


And I'd never miss seeing Jesus
I'd never miss seeing loved ones,
Who've gone on before
I'd never trade forever for a few days down here
I'd never miss Heaven for the world


As for me and my house
We will serve the Lord
Though things of earth may try to allure
For the smile of God means more than sins brief glittering day
I'd never miss Heaven for the world


And I'd never miss seeing Jesus
I'd never miss seeing loved ones,
Who've gone on before
I'd never trade forever for a few days down here
I'd never miss Heaven for the world


No, I'd never trade forever for a few days down here
I'd never miss Heaven for the world.

Jesus, keep me near the cross;

Jesus, keep me near the Cross; There a precious fountain, Free to all -- a healing stream -- Flows from Calvary's mountain. In the cross, in the cross, Be my glory ever, Till my raptured soul shall find Rest beyond the river. Near the cross, a trembling soul, Love and mercy found me; There the bright and morning Star Shed its beams around me. In the cross, in the cross, Be my glory ever, Till my raptured soul shall find Rest beyond the river. [ From: http://www.elyrics.net ] Near the cross! O Lamb of God, Bring its scenes before me; Help me walk from day to day With its shadow o'er me. In the cross, in the cross, Be my glory ever, Till my raptured soul shall find Rest beyond the river. Near the cross! I'll watch and wait, Hoping, trusting ever, Till I reach the golden strand Just beyond the river. In the cross, in the cross, Be my glory ever, Till my raptured soul shall find Rest beyond the river.

Closure

Closure

I've always heard that word,

I thought I knew what it meant...the end of a matter.

Something we long for,

the promise that there will be an end to the nightmare......

Today I am numb.. We got the verdict and the jury recommended the death sentence.

What should I feel? Relief? I do feel like justice was served but closure no.

I feel sick inside that there should ever be this trial, I feel sick for my beautiful friend.

She should not have suffered so, she should be here living, loving, serving.

I'm so sorry, so sad and so angry at the injustice of it all.

Cheryl, I never knew I would be able to google your name and see your picture everywhere.

Everyone is talking about you, and I'm left empty.

It's been three years now of all these emotions,

Fear, hope, the desperation of searching for you? Praying and walking through fields and woods calling your name.

holding poor buddy, he bit me he was so scared :(

Hugging Jake and making sure he ate something and seeing the tears in his eyes so much like yours.

Trying to hold the girls together and answer the questions of why? I still don't understand.

I wonder what you would say. You always had an answer for everything.

You have left your mark on us all. Your legacy lives on I see it everyday in my girls, in so many.

Today I remember you, strong, loving, tenacious, pure, holy and determined, so black and white and fun and funny

And helpful.

So who do I call now when the girls have a fever or need stitches :) or prayer and counsel? They always listened to you.
You were always there for us all, how many ice baths did you give Hannah? you held her hand through stitches because I couldn't stomach it.. I remember you taking my blood sugar every day for a month and monitoring what I ate. I was a terrible patient but you we were a saint.

You once jumped into a pool fully clothed after Ashton and you walked Amber through a medical nightmare.
You were the one who led Hannah to Jesus and you prayed, taught, loved and laughed with them all. They still adore you. They can't eat cookie dough without remembering you now. We loved you , we shared our life with you and now we are not sure how to deal with losing you.

I will never forget the weekend that changed our lives forever and bonded us together. Three girls on a road trip to Pensacola in the old white Sopchoppy First Baptist Van. Hoping that the stories we had heard were true and God was moving in a real revival. We were so hungry but a bit skepical. Standing in line all day, sharing our life stories and praying. Fighting for a seat, we ended up in the balcony and as soon as the first note was hit on the keyboard we were crying and holding each other’s hands so tightly. Hanging on to every word we ran to the alter and ended up on the floor all night. We were never the same again. I have no idea how many trips we shared. The next weekend we took Jake and the girls. You fought your way to the front and made sure each of them received prayer. Our lives changed forever.

I'll never forget our praise parties, poppyseed chicken dinners and sleepovers, long talks, bible studies and all night prayer meetings. Every time we all got together, we'd find you in the girls bedroom getting a makeover or laughing and playing with them. No one has ever impacted them or valued them more than you did. You gave your weekends to slumber parties and your Wednesday nights to teaching them and you were there always there to pray or counsel them or just celebrate life with them.

We miss you; our hearts are broken in losing you!

Your memorial was beautiful and your legacy was loudly proclaimed...
We had a huge dinner to celebrate you and yes there was poppyseed chicken!
After it was over Tanya, Cindy W. and I walked down to your resting place and had our last girls night out.. We laughed, we cried, we grieved and remembered and we said goodbye but not forever.

See you soon friend.

The Body of Christ

The Body of Christ






Today....something unusual happened in our community.



I wish I had the words to describe it....



A precious young man shared his struggle,



He was transparent about his sin. Bravely and courageously he barred his heart and asked for help. I was humbled by his simple confession and his hope in Christ.



The student body gathered around him and loved, supported and prayed for him.



It didn't end there several other students also stood and shared, confessed and openly repented, it was beautiful yet I am still so dissatisfied, a grief has consumed me yet I could not put my finger on it until tonight.



My heart was broken, grieved and I felt there was something undone. It wasn't our reaction to him or the others, a very real work was being done in their hearts but it caused me to examine myself and our body.



What sins would bible students confess to? Cheating on a test, staying out past curfew, listening to secular music, and coarse joking. breaking this rule and that rule.



We listened, we forgave but still I'm afraid.



I'm afraid some of us thought “Thank God I don't cheat or break the rules.”



Did we feel a little smug in our seats? Did we feel a wee bit of spiritual pride?



Did this represent what our puritan forefathers felt when they held trials for those who did not conform to their standards, was there a hint of piety ?



It is considered righteous and acceptable to confess such sins. Even heavy sins such as pornography and adultery are more openly confessed now.







But what about our "Christian Bubble sins" the word speaks over and over about sins of the tongue about gossip and biting and devouring one another. How many times do we gossip but it's sandwiched in with "we should pray for this person" or I'm concerned"







Jesus warned against seeking out the best seats at the table, seeking power and popularity. Popularity in the church? Is there such a thing? Look around you. We are admonished to seek out the least of these and do good to them. Do we do this? Really do we? I believe more people are hurt in our churches and communities by these sins than any other.







I've heard it said that the Church is the hope of the world. Are we? When the world comes in as an overweight, unstylish single mother is there a place for her? When a socially awkward teenage boy comes to our youth group, who reaches out to him? When a prodigal young lady returns and shares her deepest, darkest fears and failings, who believes in her again? who refuses to label her? Or are the rumors now justified because who knows what she did while in sin and it's fair game for discussion now?







How many broken, hurting people walk into our churches and leave more wounded than they came? When did being relevant, talented, artsy and cool become our code? What about those who are none of these things? Where do they fit in? When did we start caring so much about dropping names and being in the cool church clique? Are these our Idols now?







We cry for the lost to come but how will they fit into our little "churchy" social classes? Or have they already come and become a project for us so we look spiritual? Or did we miss them altogether because their clothes, size or look was all wrong?



My heart, my prayer is for real repentance. Let us to examine our hearts and our motives. What are we doing here? What are we building? Bring us to a place of true Christian brotherhood. Let us love the way Christ loves, whom he loves (“all men”) Let us feel what his heart feels for his church. When will we confess these sins? Let us truly become the Body of Christ. Think about that… the “Church” is called the Body of Christ! Are we?

I called her Mom

I called her Mom….
She was Sister Murrell to everyone else.
She was strong, yet gentle and loving.
Authoritive but still understanding.
She was a leader with a purpose.
She was tenacious and uncompromising.
Many revered her, a few feared her.
I cuddled with her and held tight to her hands.

Her hands were so smooth, so cool and gentle.
They instantly brought peace to my little soul.
They were always busy, doing the Lords work, Cooking, writing, drawing,
Healing, touching everyone who entered her life.
They made me paper dolls and handkerchief girls during long church services.

She always had a hanky in her purse or hands.
Beautifully embroidered and smelling sweetly of her perfume.
She would wipe her brow as she proclaimed his word,
Boldly and energetically as she stood behind the pulpit
or walked among her congregation. I've seen those hands heal, caress and feed the hungry, sooth a fevered brow and bring deliverance and always submit obediently to her God. Sometimes those hands would stop in motion and a certain stillness would come over her, Then she would point, and the lost would come home and the demons would scream and flee.She was as bold as a lion and walked in total authority no weakness, no fear only Faith. The hairs would rise on the back of my neck and I feared her God.


Her voice was strong, and sure no hesitation, She would sing, preach, pray and prophesy.yet she would still sing me lullabies and read me stories and recite beautiful little poems for me. She would scold me or praise me and that voice would always teach me, always reason with me and always be in my heart and head. I would hear that familiar voice praying, weeping and groaning for me.
Up into my teen years that voice would correct and reveal the secrets of my heart and lay bare my rebellion and that precious voice would lead me to repentance and lead me in the way everlasting. After I was grown and married that voice was still there speaking wisdom, warning and bringing me life.
She would bless, teach and love her grandchildren with the same beautiful songs, poems and stories she had taught me. The law of wisdom was on her tongue and life sprung forth from her speech.

Her feet were steady and steadfast.
Beautiful were they as they proclaimed the gospel. They never wavered to the left or to the right they stayed on the straight and narrow path. They followed her Lord unwaveringly from The ghetto neighborhoods of Akron Ohio, to the hills of Kentucky and the mountains of West Virginia. They danced unashamed before him and strode purposely into his will.
They would grow old and weary and were lost to her in the end but though she may have lost their physical use she would continue to lead others into the paths of righteousness.

She had the heart of a lion, Fierce, loving protective and brave,
She was a loving shepherd to her sheep but would fight the enemy with an unflinching fierceness and pursue with abandon any lost sheep that wondered away, yet her tender heart was broken in humility to her God.


Her mind was quick, sharp and deep, her intellect amazing those much better educated than herself.She had an unexpected whit and sometimes a corny humor. She would pen hundreds of songs, hymns, poems and sermons. Her memory was amazing to me for she had memorized most of them and It seemed to me she knew the whole Bible by heart, there was always a verse on her tongue for any occasion. She would publish a little known paper called the “Way of Holiness Messenger.” It would touch hundreds and cross continents carrying her simple message of holiness and prayer.


Her will was unbreakable and unbending bordering on stubborn.
There was no dream she felt that was unattainable and no challenge she would not meet head on.She was intimidating, yet surprisingly approachable.
This mother of mine was a warrior and yet I never saw fear on her face. She was always waiting, listening and recognizing his voice. She was never confused or confounded.But still she was a lady, Manners were of the utmost importance and she was marked by modesty and holiness.

She lived a life that I have never seen matched.She prayed but not like most.
It was her lifestyle, in a prayer room in her home.
She talked to God and would spend hours listening and then for days furiously writing then teaching and preaching. I look back and that is what marks my memories most prayer, Tearful, broken and heartfelt prayer. She lived in another realm that I could not easily enter so I would wait sometimes for hours, it seemed to me.
She lived wholly for eternity, this world it's wealth, wisdom and entertainment ignored by her.

She suffered, she was disappointed, she was reviled, maligned, misunderstood and she was mistreated but she never blamed her God.She faced the death of her young child from a vicious disease yet she praised her God,She faced sickness, betrayal and loss but still she stood strong.

All this but the most amazing thing of all to me was her submission, to her God, to her husband and to her call. AS powerful of a life she lived, she remained humble, open and loving. She would spend her last days still reaching for the lost, still teaching from her chair, still writing,although her eyes had grown dim then on her death bed as many, many sons and daughters crowded in close she was still touching
with those smooth ageless hands still holding us together, wiping away our tears and soothing our broken hearts.The voice, weak but still clear, prophesying, blessing us and singing and worshiping.A light in her Eyes and excitement in her voice I knew she longed to leave here,she never was of this earth, she had Tapped into eternity long ago and it was only now that she would truly be at home for this world was not her home,She only passed this way....