Hear my prayer, O Lord,
Give ear to my supplications!
Answer me in Your faithfulness, in Your righteousness!
And do not enter into judgment with Your servant,
For in Your sight no man living is righteous.
For the enemy has persecuted my soul;
He has crushed my life to the ground;
He has made me dwell in dark places, like those who have long been dead.
Therefore my spirit is overwhelmed within me,
My heart is appalled within me.
I remember the days of old;
I meditate on all Your doings;
I muse on the power of Your hands.
I stretch out my hands to You;
My soul longs for You, as a parched land.
Answer me quickly, O Lord my spirit fails;
Do not hide Your face from me,
Or I will become like those who go down to the pit.
Let me hear Your lovingkindness in the morning;
For I trust in You;
Teach me the way in which I should walk;
For to You I life up my soul.
Deliver me, O Lord, from my enemies;
I take refuge in You.
Teach me to do Your will.
For You are my God;
Let Your good Spirit lead me on level ground.
For the sake of Your name, O Lord, revive me.
In Your righteousness bring my soul out of trouble.
And in Your lovingkindness, cut off my enemies
And destroy all those who afflict my soul,
For I am Your servant.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
The Orange Chair
“Kay-kay, it’s almost time to go home.”
“But Momma, I haven’t had my story yet.”
Katie was sitting on the floor surrounded by her paper dolls. Her dolly’s clothes were spread around her on the floor, and the tin can where she kept her fragile treasures was turned upside down.
“Katie, if you want Grandy to read you a story you need to quickly clean up and pick a book,” Momma said.
Grandy was sitting in her usual spot, an orange reclining chair, working on her crossword puzzles. Within a minute, Katie carefully put her toys away and picked her favorite book and ran over to Grandy. She quickly climbed into the giant chair next to her grandmother; both of them small enough to fit snuggly side by side. Katie noticed her Grandy’s fine cursive carefully filled in the blank boxes on the page as she closed the puzzle book.
Like every night before she left Grandy’s house, Grandy took her red plaid blanket and gently tucked Katie and herself in the the chair. Then Grandy asked Katie, “What book the you pick tonight, Katie?”
“Guess, Grandy,” Katie giggled to herself, trying to disguise the cover of the book between her arms.
“Hmm...let me think. Is it...” Grandy was trying to contain her laugh, watching her four-year-old granddaughter trying to wrap her small arms around the orange book cover, “Goodnight Moon?”
“How’d you know” Katie squealed, as she smiled showing her teeth and her eyes turning into sideways crescent moons.
“I’m just a good guesser,” Grandy replied. “Besides, it is your favorite.”
Grandy took the beloved book from the child’s small hands and held the cover equally between them so Katie could see. “Goodnight Moon,” Grandy read, “by Margaret Wise Brown, and Pictures by Clement Hurd” Grandy always read the author of the book and the illustrator.
Katie sighed and snuggled closer to her grandmother. She loved hearing Grandy’s soft animated voice as she looked at every page. Sometimes Katie would even watch the words go by as her grandmother read them aloud. As each page turned, Katie’s eyes grew heavier and heavier. By the end of the bedtime book, Katie was almost asleep, like the bunny in the story.
“The End” Grandy read. “Wasn’t that a nice story?”
“Uh-huh,” Katie yawned.
Grandy put the book on her side table next to the lamp, and then she reached down to get her purse. “Are you awake enough for Hocus Pocus Grandy?”
Katie’s eyes opened. How could she forget about Hocus Pocus Grandy? She tried to shake off the sleepiness, and unsteadily sat straight up.
Grandy put the black purse between them on their laps. She let Katie look into her empty bag. Nothing. Then she placed her hands on the top of the bag, and Katie put her hands on top of Grandy’s. Together they tapped the bag in rhythm:
“Hocus Pocus Grandy,
Hocus Pocus Candy!
Sha-ZAM!”
Grandy pulled out an orange slice. Katie’s favorite! “Oh thank you, Grandy,” she cried out and gave Grandy a giant hug.
“Okay, Katie Bug it’s time to go home,” Momma said.
“Alright, Momma.” Katie slid off of her cozy seat on the orange chair and put on her shoes. Katie gave Grandy and Grandad goodbye kisses. Then Katie and Momma were walking hand-in-hand out the door, and when she looked back, she saw Grandy smiling from her chair back at her.
“But Momma, I haven’t had my story yet.”
Katie was sitting on the floor surrounded by her paper dolls. Her dolly’s clothes were spread around her on the floor, and the tin can where she kept her fragile treasures was turned upside down.
“Katie, if you want Grandy to read you a story you need to quickly clean up and pick a book,” Momma said.
Grandy was sitting in her usual spot, an orange reclining chair, working on her crossword puzzles. Within a minute, Katie carefully put her toys away and picked her favorite book and ran over to Grandy. She quickly climbed into the giant chair next to her grandmother; both of them small enough to fit snuggly side by side. Katie noticed her Grandy’s fine cursive carefully filled in the blank boxes on the page as she closed the puzzle book.
Like every night before she left Grandy’s house, Grandy took her red plaid blanket and gently tucked Katie and herself in the the chair. Then Grandy asked Katie, “What book the you pick tonight, Katie?”
“Guess, Grandy,” Katie giggled to herself, trying to disguise the cover of the book between her arms.
“Hmm...let me think. Is it...” Grandy was trying to contain her laugh, watching her four-year-old granddaughter trying to wrap her small arms around the orange book cover, “Goodnight Moon?”
“How’d you know” Katie squealed, as she smiled showing her teeth and her eyes turning into sideways crescent moons.
“I’m just a good guesser,” Grandy replied. “Besides, it is your favorite.”
Grandy took the beloved book from the child’s small hands and held the cover equally between them so Katie could see. “Goodnight Moon,” Grandy read, “by Margaret Wise Brown, and Pictures by Clement Hurd” Grandy always read the author of the book and the illustrator.
Katie sighed and snuggled closer to her grandmother. She loved hearing Grandy’s soft animated voice as she looked at every page. Sometimes Katie would even watch the words go by as her grandmother read them aloud. As each page turned, Katie’s eyes grew heavier and heavier. By the end of the bedtime book, Katie was almost asleep, like the bunny in the story.
“The End” Grandy read. “Wasn’t that a nice story?”
“Uh-huh,” Katie yawned.
Grandy put the book on her side table next to the lamp, and then she reached down to get her purse. “Are you awake enough for Hocus Pocus Grandy?”
Katie’s eyes opened. How could she forget about Hocus Pocus Grandy? She tried to shake off the sleepiness, and unsteadily sat straight up.
Grandy put the black purse between them on their laps. She let Katie look into her empty bag. Nothing. Then she placed her hands on the top of the bag, and Katie put her hands on top of Grandy’s. Together they tapped the bag in rhythm:
“Hocus Pocus Grandy,
Hocus Pocus Candy!
Sha-ZAM!”
Grandy pulled out an orange slice. Katie’s favorite! “Oh thank you, Grandy,” she cried out and gave Grandy a giant hug.
“Okay, Katie Bug it’s time to go home,” Momma said.
“Alright, Momma.” Katie slid off of her cozy seat on the orange chair and put on her shoes. Katie gave Grandy and Grandad goodbye kisses. Then Katie and Momma were walking hand-in-hand out the door, and when she looked back, she saw Grandy smiling from her chair back at her.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Preschool
For as adolescent as it may seem, I will never be able to give up Jana Alayra. Her children worship songs have left a lasting impression on my heart, forever. After helping with preschool music at North Hills Church for so long, there are some things that I will never forget: how excited the children would get when we'd sing Jump into the Light, watching the children's eyes as I'd teach them sign language to a new song, and the calmness the three year olds would have as we'd sing Mighty is Your Love.
Coming to the Lord as a child is something magical. This place in my heart and mind where I feel so lost and helpless. I don't want to be anywhere but where His loving arms surround me. I become fully dependent on the God of Israel, and my God. My strength for each day comes from Him.
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