The music beckons—it draws you near.

The Spirit calls; there is no fear.

His hand is out to take your own

To dance this dance, you’re not alone.

The music begins—its tempo slow.

You’re hesitant about where you’ll go.

But trust your Partner, wherever He leads.

He loves you dearly—He knows your needs.

The beat picks up—a joyous sound.

You smile! You glide, as you dance around.

Safe and secure, you know the steps by heart.

You swirl! You twirl! You gladly do your part.

Then the song changes. Its rhythm is new.

And now you don’t quite know just what to do.

Your Partner takes over. He holds you upright.

As you follow His lead, your dance soon takes flight!

As the song suddenly soars, you step and sway.

Its lyrics are the very words that we pray.

He sweeps you around, up off your feet!

You soar, too, and the dance is complete.

You think, "Oh, it’s over…The song has now ended."

But a new song begins…and His hand is extended.

~ With my love & prayers, Angie





For Dearest Debbie

A Dancing Girl






"Let them praise his name with dancing

And make music to Him with timbrel and harp.

For the Lord takes delight in His people;
He crowns the humble with victory." (PSALM 149:3-4)

E Pluribus Unim - Out of Many, One

As a symbol of the United States, the Latin phrase e pluribus unum means “out of many, one.”[1]

E pluribus unum represents the ideals of the U.S. This phrase represents America, its culture, and its history.

In 1776, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and John Adams sought to identify the United States by creating a Great Seal. Translating the ideals and aspirations of an emerging nation proved to be no small task. It wasn’t until 1782 that the Great Seal was adopted by Congress. On June 20^th of that year, Charles Thomson (who sketched the final design) described the colors, images, and words which would represent the country in this iconic symbol.

• A shield of 13 stripes covers the breast of a majestic eagle. This shield represents the original 13 states joined into one, supporting the chief—or top section of the shield—uniting the whole and representing Congress. The red and white stripes are united by the blue chief and the chief relies on the union’s strength.
• The arrows and olive branch in the eagle’s talons denote war and peace. Following the long struggle for independence, the seal would ratify a peace treaty between America and Britain, recognizing the U.S. as a sovereign nation. In pursuit of peace, the eagle faces its right toward the olive branch, an ancient symbol of peace.
• The 13 silver stars above the eagle’s head breaks through the clouds in a sky of blue glory. This constellation represents a new state taking its place among other sovereign powers.
• In the eagle’s beak unfurls a banner scroll inscribed “E pluribus unum.”

This imagery depicts the Vision Statement for America. Yet “E pluribus unum” is not the official motto of the United States. “Out of the many, one” served only as an unofficial motto for years.  But when the United States began using another phrase on all currency, Congress passed a law making that our nation’s official motto. That phrase is “In God We Trust.”

When we gather as a nation on the National Day of Prayer, we lift our hearts and our voices to heaven … to ask our Sovereign Lord and Savior to once again bless this land and its people. During a time when division and dissension seem to be the order of the day, would you join me in praying “E pluribus unum”? Not just for our nation, but for our world?

For out of the world of many nations, came One who was destined to die in our place, to save us from our sins. The Bible says, “… there is a great difference between Adam’s sin and God’s gracious gift. For the sin of this one man, Adam, brought death to many. But even greater is God’s wonderful grace and his gift of forgiveness to many through this other man, Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:15 NLT).

In Him—in Jesus, we do trust. Let us take the time today to praise and pray … to worship, trust, and obey. May God bless America and may America bless God.

---

[1] Mohn, Elizabeth. 2016. "E Pluribus Unum." Salem Press EncyclopediaTopic Overviews Public Libraries, EBSCOhost (accessed March 31, 2017).

 

 

The Lonesome Dove

by Angela E White

Copyright 2014 (All Rights Reserved)

Perched on a limb,

The mourning dove coos

Her soul mate is gone

She knows not what to do.

 

She preens her feathers

And tends her nest

Her world is shaken.

And she can’t find rest.

 

In the morning dew

She spreads her wings and flies

The music of her song

Echoes sorrowful cries.

 

As the sun begins to rise,

Her head turns to see

The shadow of an eagle

Soaring wild and free.

 

His strength lifts her spirit

Beneath the shadow of his wings

Joy comes into her mourning

And once again she sings.

~aew~

 

Selected Scriptures:

 "I am praying to you because
I know you will answer, O God.
    Bend down and listen as I pray.
Show me your unfailing love
   in wonderful ways.
By your mighty power you rescue
    those who seek refuge….
Guard me as you would guard
  [the apple of your eye.]
Hide me in the shadow of your wings.”[1]

 

“Oh, that I had wings like a dove;
    then I would fly away and rest!
I would fly far away
    to the quiet of the wilderness.”[2]

 

“Those who live in the shelter
of the Most High
    will find rest in the shadow
of the Almighty.
This I declare about the Lord:
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
    he is my God, and I trust him.
For he will rescue you from every trap
    and protect you from deadly disease.
He will cover you with his feathers.
    He will shelter you with his wings.
    His faithful promises
are your armor and protection.
Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night,
    nor the arrow that flies in the day.”[3]

 

 

 “Let the godly rejoice.
    Let them be glad in God’s presence.
    Let them be filled with joy.
Sing praises to God and to his name!
    Sing loud praises to him who rides the clouds.
His name is the Lord—
    rejoice in his presence!

Father to the fatherless, defender of widows—
    this is God, whose dwelling is holy.
God places the lonely in families;
    he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy….
O God, when you led your people out from Egypt,
    when you marched through the dry wasteland, Interlude
 the earth trembled, and the heavens poured down rain
    before you, the God of Sinai,
    before God, the God of Israel.
You sent abundant rain, O God,
    to refresh the weary land.
There your people finally settled,
    and with a bountiful harvest, O God,
    you provided for your needy people….

Even those who lived among the sheepfolds found treasures—
    doves with wings of silver
    and feathers of gold….

Praise the Lord; praise God our savior!
    For each day he carries us in his arms.
Our God is a God who saves!
    The Sovereign Lord rescues us from death….

Sing to God, you kingdoms of the earth.
    Sing praises to the Lord. Interlude
Sing to the one who rides across the ancient heavens,
    his mighty voice thundering from the sky.
Tell everyone about God’s power.
    His majesty shines down on Israel;
    his strength is mighty in the heavens.
God is awesome in his sanctuary.
    The God of Israel gives power and strength to his people.

Praise be to God!”[4]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

[1] Psalm 17:6-8

[2] Psalm 55:6-7

[3] Psalm 91:1-5

[4] Psalm 68:1-10, 13, 19-20, 32-35

 

 

Maddisonshine

After seeing the movie The Shack yesterday, we had a discussion among our family about if it is proper to be angry at God. (More on that later.) As a result of that conversation, I thought I would share again the story of my niece Maddison.

It was ironic because the very day I saw the film and Maddison was so much on my mind and heart, my daughter, Kristen, texted me a photo of a tile she had created for the children's hospital where she works. When she first started there, she and others on the staff painted ceramic tiles. Just yesterday she noticed that the tiles had been hung at the hospital. Hers said Maddi Sunshine with a heart above her name. How perfect is God's timing. I had recently just purchased a gift for my sister that I will give her soon. Again, God's timing is perfect.

This is my tribute to our Maddisonshine ...

My youngest sister, Jackie, had an extremely difficult time getting pregnant.  She and her husband endured the full gamut of fertility treatments and lost one much-wanted baby to a miscarriage.  In January of 1999 their precious daughter, Maddison, was born prematurely...weighing only twelve ounces -- the same hefty weight as a can of soda.  Maddison valiantly wanted to live.  Her parents, doctors, nurses, entire family, and a host of friends did everything they could possibly do for this adorable child.  She was a miracle direct from God and we worried and prayed and then gained hope with each minuscule increase in her weight and every single day she thrived.   In June 1999, after just four months and 25 days, Maddison’s earthly life ended.  Although she was only with us for a short time, this beautiful, precious child had an incredible impact on an amazing number of lives.  Each day she was with us was a treasured gift.

This is how I shared the news with everyone who had hoped and prayed alongside us:

To family & friends close to my heart,

I simply cannot thank you enough for all the love and support you have shown on behalf of my sweet niece, Maddison Renee.  To honor her memory and your love for her from a distance, I wanted to share our final good-bye with you.

When she was born at 12 ounces on January 24, we all prayed diligently that she would survive.  At only 342 grams, any other baby might not have been considered “medically viable” but she has a will of her own and with a “lusty cry” (as one of the doctors who spoke at her funeral said), she announced that she wanted to live.  The staff at the hospital's Neonatal ICU took this precious angel under their wings and loved and cared for her for most of the 4 months and 25 days of her too short life.

She was able to come home on May 19 (which I believe was her original due date or very close to it).  She was only home a few days, but I know those days were precious to Jackie and Mark.  She returned to the pediatric ICU (once she was released from NICU, she wasn’t supposed to be able to go back, but they bent the rules for this special child and she was back in familiar surroundings with faces and hands she knew).  When Covenant’s staff had done all they could for our Maddison-shine, she was transferred to the University Medical Hospital for an experimental treatment.  We thought it was working because all of her “numbers” and stats were improving.  That last Thursday, she seemed much improved.

I had planned on going to Lubbock to “hospital sit” so Jackie and Mark could take turns resting and one or the other could always be there.  My other sister, Pam, had the weekend “shift.”  Late Friday night or into Saturday morning, Maddison took a turn for the worse.

As they had been each and every day of her short life, Jackie and Mark were with Maddison.  The hospital chaplain and several people from the NICU staff spoke at the service and shared their firm belief that God could not have given Maddison a better set of parents.  I whole-heartedly believe that and witnessed it first-hand.  The grace that God has given these two very special people is simply too profound for mere words.

At 5:30 Saturday morning, Pam called with the sad news.  I would not be going to Lubbock to hospital sit with my sister and her husband and my precious niece, but to share a small measure of their grief and sorrow.

The first viewing room at the funeral home was simply too small to hold all of the love (in the form of flowers) for this little angel.  Beautiful pink and white floral arrangements dominated even the larger room and surrounded her tiny body.

I can’t adequately describe how beautiful her physical form was.  It was as if God was showing us on the outside her beautiful spirit.  Wearing a white christening gown and a tiny white bonnet with dainty ribbons and pearls (given to the family by a Lubbock baby store) she was perfect.  She often slept with her hands above her head and her tiny fingers were poised as if she were ready to take flight to heaven (which her spirit had already done).  Many remarked that she looked like a beautiful porcelain doll.  From her upturned nose to her pudgy cheeks, she looked like a little cherub.  But it was her tiny mouth and dainty lashes resting on those pudgy cheeks that made her look peacefully asleep and content.  At any moment, you expected her to sigh in contentment.  I just wanted to pick her up and hold her close.

The service itself was filled with emotion, as you would expect.  Jackie and Mark had carefully picked out songs:  “Angel,” “On Eagles’ Wings” and “The Rose” which touched our hearts and somehow echoed the love we felt for this child of theirs.  The minister spoke about Maddison’s “way” which defied any explanation in terms of her courageous spirit of life.  He did not try to give answers, but acknowledged all of our questions of “why.”

Even in all this sadness, there was a surrounding presence of love and the hopeful promise of distant joy.  Instead of somber black, Jackie and Mark both wore white in tribute to Maddison’s purity and innocence.

 From their own garden, they placed a rose beside her and a vine of honeysuckle formed a halo above her head.

Still, there were many tears.  In fact, Lubbock had received so much rain that parking lots and low-lying fields had become miniature lakes; I think those were tears from heaven.

During the procession to the gravesite, I listened to a favorite song, “It’s Never Easy to Say Good-Bye”.  In this case, it was even harder.  How can we say, “Good-bye” when we’ve barely said, “Hello”?  I don’t know the answer, but I think of all the loved ones we’ve already lost and know they have joyously welcomed Maddison with open arms.  “Good-bye” is said to have originated from the phrase, “God be with you” and I know in my heart that Maddison is with Him and she loves us from paradise.

Throughout the days I was in Lubbock, I was comforted by the number of people who were there to support Jackie and Mark in loving sympathy.  From the neighbors who brought food and hugs and opened their homes and hearts, friends and co-workers of both Jackie and Mark and families from both sides who came together.  Even virtual strangers – the lady from the children’s clothing store who inadvertently asked how old the baby was [for the christening gown] and gave from her heart when she heard the sad news.  The people at the framing store who sent a card after making a beautiful shadow box with a picture of Maddison and her tiny cap and shirt.  Even when I was at DFW airport trying to get to Lubbock, begging for a seat on a non-existent plane, a woman who heard the reason I needed to go sweetly told me with a pat on the back that I could fly with her to Amarillo and she would drive me to Lubbock herself.  These small kindnesses and a multitude of others show that a reflection of God’s love is present here on earth.

In our lifetimes, we touch a limited number of people – soul to soul and heart to heart.  During her short life, Maddison touched more hearts than we can ever know, pointing us all to God.  Perhaps in that small, yet enormous way, her job here on earth was complete, despite our hopes and dreams otherwise.

Again, thank you all for your loving sympathy.  Please keep Jackie and Mark in your prayers and hold all of your loved ones a little bit closer because we can never know how much time we’ll have or when we’ll all be together again.

In loving memory of

Maddison

{\o/}

/     \

~~

The scriptural anthem for Maddison’s life was Psalm 139:13-16

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.  My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.  When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.  All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

The biblical anthem for Maddison’s death is found in John 16:19-22

Jesus saw that they wanted to ask him about this, so he said to them, “Are you asking one another what I meant when I said, ‘In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me’?  I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices.  You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy.  A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world.  So with you:  Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.

How to Remove the Fear of Writing (without Surgery)

HOW TO REMOVE THE FEAR OF WRITING

without surgery

1989 by Angela E. White

Sheer boredom coerced me into action.  How could I possibly spend

another dreary lunch hour vicariously escaping into another writer's pen? Solitude was preferable on days such as that one.  Had it been almost two years since the last time I played matchmaker with my thoughts and paper?

Out of desperation, I rummaged through the magazine rack with its wares proclaiming in vivid imagery, "Buy me!".  Stumbling on a writer's magazine whose headline wailed, "What are you waiting for?", I snatched it up, adroitly defending myself because it was less expensive and more productive than passively reading ingredient labels.

The revelation that I carried motivation to the cashier's counter didn't seep into my idle brain.  At least not until after I felt a reminiscent compulsion to do something more with pen and paper than doodle little stick men in fourteen different colors and poses.

The panic that set in would have driven a saner person to distraction. What was I thinking of?  Sure, I wrote inane satires in high school, a few emotional entries in a journal, and kept notes in an appointment book; but weren't those symptoms of an adolescent amateur?  Was I, a mature adult actually contemplating the thought of exposing myself, exhibiting my mind's meanderings?  No, I just thought I needed to exorcise a whim.

All I had to do, I advised myself, was scribble a few lines of gibberish and I would be cured without withdrawal. 

Only one fault with this diagnosis: I couldn't even attempt to record anything. The obsession grew to a feverish pitch.  Instead of tossing and turning in the blackened night, remedial ideas pranced before my shuttered eyes. Memos at work, textbooks at school were edited and refined within the dusty attic of my brain.  These shadows never made it to the two dimensional world of paper. 

When I opted for self treatment, senility crept in and I couldn't begin to remember what ideas I had prescribed.  My mind reflected the blank pages that accused and confirmed my cowardice.

Never one to relinquish control beyond practical standards, I forced myself to regain my composure and my perspective.  So what if it was merely a whim, a dream beyond the scope of a shimmering horizon?  It was still an inbred bodily function necessary to a peaceful existence, a tumor which had to be removed before it destroyed.

So I wrote.  I wrote letters, I resurrected the old diary/journal.  I took notes and doodled on messages.  I pacified the symptoms but I didn't cure the disease.  I couldn't write for mere self-expression and introspection; I had to write for someone else.  I wanted to create an unbiased reaction to the power of my thoughts, my ideas, my emotions.

I've only just begun to cauterize the wound.  No doubt I'll be afraid and rejected, laughed at, and ridiculed.  But for now, I'm in a blissful state of remission.

Self-Induced Labor

SELF-INDUCED LABOR

1989 by Angela E. White

"Where does this compulsion to write come from?"

asked the novice of the mentor.

The urge comes from within, giving birth to a labor of love.

Words are delivered to a sterile paper sheet;

A thought that was nurtured like an embryo of joy.

Spontaneous phrases disciplined like a recalcitrant child.

Flowing images and scenarios that warm the awed parent.

At times the words balk determinedly

At the ink that feeds them.

Only to emerge enthusiastically

To nourish and relieve the uninspired starvation.

This progeny grows up big and strong.

Demanding independence from the binding apron strings.

This product of love ventures out

Alone.

While the worried and concerned parent

Watches with pride.

Random Acts of Kindness

Random Acts of Kindness

I don't want you, dear reader, to think that I am a veritable 24-hour-a-day shrew who complains incessantly.  I assure you, I am a very positive, up-beat, generally mellow optimist.  I just don't think there's anything wrong with standing up for what's right.

And standing up for what's right also entails acknowledging the good things in life.

I have a variety of jobs -- my current part-time jobs of scriptwriting, newspaper reporting, corporate event planning, mystery shopping, and school carpooling equal out to a more than full-time work and almost full-time pay, so they are all satisfying and somewhat rewarding.

In trying to launch a home-based, freelance writing career, I started my own mystery shopping service and mailed flyers to local businesses offering to evaluate their service performance.  Combining my personal experience as a consumer with my professional expertise in customer service and communicative writing made me an effective evaluator.  Being very detailed, I provided my customers with extensive reports -- the good, the bad, and the ugly -- so they could fix whatever problems they might have as well as reward employees who were doing their jobs well.  (Too bad being in a small town limited my client base).

Often I would send complimentary reports to businesses where I received shoddy treatment.  Sometimes they made improvements, sometimes they simply ignored my recommendations.  But what I really enjoy doing is sharing "atta boys" with as many people as possible.  When I receive great service, I write a letter to the editor of our local paper (and it doesn't matter that I work for him on a part-time basis -- I wrote letters to the paper long before I was assigned the school board beat).  That way, everyone who reads the paper is aware of where to get good service and the business gets a pat on the back as well as an increase in potential business.

But that's not what most people think of as "random acts of kindness".

We think of:

•  the woman who fed expired parking meters (and got a ticket in the process -- which is ludicrous!)

•  the person who lets us merge onto the highway without the threat of a collision.

•  the young man who holds open a door for someone with their hands full

•  the generous motorist who pays another's toll

•  the benefactress who shares her largess with residents devastated by natural disaster.

But what about:

•  the person in line at the grocery check-out who lets a young mother and her toddlers go to the head of the line?

•  the "busy-body" older couple who keeps a watchful eye on our children when they're outside playing and on our property when we're away?

•  the teacher who freely dispenses encouraging words?

•  the doctors who try to find causes rather than just treatment?

•  the pastors, priests, and reverends who lend ears and shoulders to people in need?

•  the friends who share tears and laughter?

•  the co-workers who take up the slack when we're on vacation or sick?

•  the boss who understands when you have a sick child at home or need to go to the dentist?

•  the person who gives to charity out of a heartfelt desire to share rather than a guilty conscience or a misguided sense of obligation?

•  the motorist who signals you to go first at an intersection?

•  the neighbors who wave as you drive past their house?

•  the church member who shares a covered dish, a song, or hope?

•  the dog who wags its tail and licks your hand in return for seeing your face and a pat on the head?

•  the cat that curls up and purrs around your leg?

•  the birds that serenade you in the morning?

•  the people around you who are trying to make a difference, no matter how large or small it may be?

To paraphrase a chili commercial, "Neighbor, when was the last time you performed a random act of kindness or thanked someone for theirs?  Well, that's too long."

Small kindnesses cost so little, yet mean so much.  They are one of the best investment opportunities money can't buy.