Mama’s Christmas Pin

     I remember a certain Christmas when I was a child. I’m not sure just how old I was, maybe six or seven. The holiday was fast approaching and gift giving was on my mind. My older brother and I had trudged through the snow down the big hill to the Five and Dime Store in the small Northern Michigan town I grew up in. I can by imagination visualize the scene from that day. I’m sure I had soggy hand knitted mittens hanging from my pockets, stringy blond hair poking out from under a sock hat and rubber boots with metal latches on my cold feet. I recall that I had to stand on my tip toes to see into the big display at the front of the store full of various trinkets marked down to entice thrifty Christmas shoppers looking for stocking stuffers.

     I sorted through many pieces of cheap costume jewelry hunting for the perfect gift for Mama. I wanted the best one. With about fifty cents to spend it narrowed down the choices. But then after much sorting, there it was. It was so beautiful. I had found it, the best one. How shall I describe it? It was an oval shaped pin that was about an inch by an inch and a half with white plastic petals spraying out from the center. At the end of each petal was a small pink glass jewel. On top of that layer was an inner row of smaller delicate petals (also plastic) and then in the very center was a larger pink jewel surrounded by five more pink jewels all encased in plastic settings. To anyone with any fashion sense at all this pin would probably be described in one word, “cheesy”. But to me it was an absolute treasure and my fifty cents would buy it. It may have even been a toy meant for playing dress up I’m not sure.

     I purchased the pin took it home and wrapped it and couldn’t wait for Mama to open it. Christmas morning came and sure enough Mama oohed and ahhhed over the pin. She liked it as much as I did. But that’s not all she did. She wore it. She wore it often. She even wore it out, to work and to church. She wore it proudly as though the stones were diamonds set in gold instead of glass set in plastic.

     After she passed away the pin came back to me. I'm holding it now in my hand. It is still beautiful to me but for different reasons. To treasure the pin in the way that she did was to treasure me.

     We have a heavenly Father who treasures us. Psalms 29:2 says: Give unto the Lord the glory due unto his name; worship the Lord In the beauty of holiness. My gifts of worship are much like the plastic and glass pin. I have no holiness on my own. But long ago one morning in Bethlehem Town a Savior was born who would carry all my imperfections, all my sin, all my plastic and glass to an old rugged cross and in trade would give to me a robe of righteousness that would turn my plastic and glass worship into the beauty of holiness. God now (because of Jesus Christ) accepts my humble gift of worship as though it were a treasure.




Magnolia Gardens, one of my favorite places.

 

God Hears Our Prayers

2 Chronicles Chapter 6

   A few days ago I was reading in 2 Chronicles and noticed something that warmed my heart. Solomon had finished building the temple and had a dedication celebration for it. He prayed a prayer of dedication to the Lord asking that prayers spoken in this temple be heard. He said: “Yet regard the prayer of Your servant and his supplication, O Lord my God, and listen to the cry and the prayer which Your servant is praying before You: that Your eyes may be open toward this temple day and night, toward the place where You said You would put Your name, that You may hear the prayer which Your servant makes toward this place. And may You hear the supplication of Your servant of Your people Israel, when they pray toward this place. Hear from heaven Your dwelling place, and when You hear, forgive.

   Solomon then goes on bringing up different possibilities, If anyone sins against his neighbor, then hear…if your people are defeated before an enemy, then hear…when the heavens are shut up, then hear…when there is famine, then hear, and on and on asking God to hear in all these instances, then he says, “Now, my God, I pray, let Your eyes be open and let Your ear be attentive to the prayer made in this place.

   Then, reading on into chapter 7 God confirms His acceptance of the temple by way of fire coming down from heaven and consuming the offerings and sacrifices. It says that the glory of the Lord filled the temple. It must have been an overwhelmingly wonderful thing to witness. After this the Lord appeared to Solomon during the night and said this to him: “I have heard your prayer, and have chosen this place for Myself as a house of sacrifice. When I shut up heaven and there is no rain, or command the locusts to devour the land, or send pestilence among My people, if My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.”

   These are verses that are quite familiar.  They are verses that we think about often as we think about the condition of our country, but it is what the Lord said next that warmed my heart. He then said, “Now My eyes will be open and My ears attentive to prayer made in this place.

   Solomon prayed for God’s eyes to be open and His ears attentive. God answered him specifically My eyes will be open and My ears attentive.

   My heart is warmed because I know that God hears the details of my prayers just as he heard Solomon's prayer. This week I have been picking peaches from my two little peach trees. They are loaded with scrumptious sweet peaches. I’ve been canning a few, freezing a few, and sharing a lot.

   There is a story behind these peach trees that reminds me that just like Solomon’s prayer, God hears my prayers also. The first year I planted them they were just large twigs sticking out of the ground with a few branches. I babied them and worried over them like a mother hen.

    It was my husband Vic’s job to weed eat around the house and trees. In the past many of my trees have suffered and died at the hands of a not very careful weed eater. Sure enough, one day there it was... a huge gash from the weed eater line. I just knew that my little tree was going to die like other trees that had suffered from the same fate. Anger doesn’t adequately describe what I was feeling. It was a bit beyond anger. I know Vic felt bad, but I was still angry. I sat down by the trees and prayed. I said something like this, “Lord, I don’t want to be this angry at Vic, but I am. Would you please heal my tree so that I won’t be angry at him?” I then let go of the anger, forgave Vic and trusted that God would take care of my tree. God took very good care of my tree. This is the first year to harvest peaches from my two trees. Both trees have an equal bountiful supply of luscious fruit.

   God’s eyes and ears are open to the concerns of His children. I love being His child. If you are not His child, you can be.  Watching over and healing my tree was a small thing for God.  He also watches over me, my family, my church family, my friends, I have seen His hand of healing in many ways.  I know He hears my prayers.