THE GIFT THAT RETURNED

Thank be unto God for His
unspeakable Gift.
II Corinthians 9:15

It was the summer before Christmas. I was 8 years old and had already started nagging my parents about wanting a bicycle. I didn't care if I got one for Labor Day, Veteran's Day or Christmas day. The kids in my neighborhood all had bikes. If I ever rode one, one of those kids had to let me ride up and own our block a couple of times on their own bike. I was good on a bike, knew how to balance well and work the brakes. I had taken to bike riding the minute I got on one mostly because I had spent so much time on a scooter.

Mother assured me that they just didn't have the money for a bike. Within a few days somewhere in the month of July, she took me to a lady's house, a friend who had lived near my Dad's mother. The lady had a bike Mother wanted me to try for size. It was a little big but I was taller for my age and had long enough legs to make it work. Mother assured me that even though there was no money for a bike, that gave her an idea as to the size I would need.

Christmas day came, and there by our Charlie Brown Christmas tree was parked a beautiful bright red bicycle. As nature would have it, it was a day with snow up to my knees so the ride on the first bike would have to wait. It did give me a lot of time, however, to really give my new bike a good looking over. The paint was fresh....I could tell from the smell of it. I also noticed a couple of little nicks on the handle bars. Looking at the back bottom of the frame was a dig in the metal where the pedal would strike and make a click sound. It was THAT bike I had tried in July. I learned later that my dad had a friend in a body shop paint the bike. It was gorgeous. I don't know of anything in my young life I enjoyed any more than that bike. Even through junior high and high school, I rode that bike all over town, out to the city lake and wherever else I could find to ride. My red bike days, however, came to an end when I went to college, never to return to the family home to live again.

One job I had out of college was for a year at a nearby children's home as a cottage supervisor of girls of varied ages. We tried to do many of the things any family would do. I noticed two or three racks of bicycles near the main building and decided one fall day for me and the girls to venture to a nearby park for a bike ride. I got everyone fixed on a bike their size and then just grabbed one for myself. I led the group and an assistant brought up the back of our group.

As we were riding along, I was suddenly aware of a “click....click....click” sound as I pedaled along. Glancing down, there it was...the small groove in the frame from years of the pedal hitting the frame. I then looked at the handle bars and sure enough, the old familiar nicks were there. I finally noticed the well worn, rusted in places fenders with very little red paint on them. I was, 15 or 16 years later, riding again my precious bike. It was the worse for wear but it still in it's own loving way with every click that we (my bike and I) were again cruising along as if no one else were in the world in those moments. I learned later that my Mother had given the bike to the children's home, but just hadn't thought to tell me anything about it.

We have a lot of Christmas memories in the years we have lived. Gifts have come and gone but many folks have hung onto a few precious things. We may never know, however, where some of those things have gone. Perhaps some things fell into hands that appreciated used things. We'll never know where those things have gone or if they still exist. Memories of those Christmas's have come and gone with fond thoughts. Every now and then, though, some little something might pop up whether found in an attic, trunk or box in a garage or perhaps on a distant bike rack

However, we, today are remembering a Gift that never gets lost. We have accepted Jesus as our own personal Savior He isn't something that gets lost with the years. He never becomes just a memory although we have fond memories of Him. He doesn't disappear for 16 years and then shows up again. He is a Gift once received, that takes up residence through His Holy Spirit in us. As much as we may at times shove our precious gift into the background of our lives, He waits patiently for us to come to our senses. He's not a memorable scratch on handlebars or a click in metal but has His ways of stirring in us the most precious of memories of sweet times with Him we can never ignore or forget.

We may get a little upset with folks who refuse to say, “Merry Christmas” during this season but what are we really doing to acknowledge not just a baby coming from Heaven. We revere everything He has been and continues to be in our lives. He is our King of Kings and Lords and He is and will reign forever and forever. Jesus is our Gift, now and into eternity.

Father, we can't thank You enough for the precious Gift of Jesus You sent to us so long ago. You had promised this precious gift and You always fulfill Your promises. Thank You Jesus for being in our lives every day and not just one day in the year. In Your precious name..Amen

OUR HIDING PLACE

Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt
preserve me from trouble;
thou shalt compass me about
with songs of deliverance. Selah
Psalm 32:7
Thou art my hiding place and my
shield: I hope in thy word.
Psalm 119:114

Last week, I spoke of Corrie ten Boom and her wonderful influence her remaining days after having spent time in a Nazi concentration camp during World War II. I referred to the two above verses in my writing about her. These verses brought to mind some things that bear some thought along those lines.

Maybe you were like me when growing up, I loved making tents in the house with quilts and kitchen chairs. Made other tents out in the back yard when the weather was nice. I even had some places I referred to as my hide outs where no one would know where I was. In younger days, we had a coal shed in our back yard. No one ever went into the coal shed except in the evening when my Dad would go there to fill up the coal bucket. I loved the coal shed...even learned to like crunching on coal. Later in another house we had a basement and found ways to be incognito there even though my Mother knew better.

For a time, behind our house, there was a small field with tall growing weeds. In the Fall and Winter, they would dry and “hideouts” could be made in such a way too lengthy to explain for the time being. It was all a part of my childhood days, days of pretense, the fun of feeling I had hiding places. There really wasn't anything to hide from, but it was fun.

After growing up, there are times when adults would like to find hiding places from the cares of the world. Some would like to hide from bill collectors, troublesome neighbors, physical conditions, phone solicitors, criminal threats, and any other troublesome cares or problems. Corrie ten Boom knew what it was to live from day to day, with very little food, filth, death all around, physical abuse and always living with the threat of death either by shooting or in the gas chambers. For her, there was no place to hide, privacy never available.

The above Scriptures above give us an option we don't think of or take advantage of. The key to the hiding place the Psalmist is talking about is the Word. The hiding place itself is not a particular physical location. With the Father as our hiding place, location means nothing for He is with us everywhere, anytime. We can run to Him, to that intimate place in Him we have developed through a surrendered and deeply abiding relationship.

In our hiding place, we shut out the world. It may mean getting apart for a time where it is quiet. When I used to visit my Mother, I would daily drive either to our city park or the local cemetery just to read the Word and shut things out. I can do this at home or drive into the mountains. The place ceases to be important if my heart isn't prepared to meet my Lord wherever.

Our verses tell us some advantages of being in our hiding place with God

*preserves from trouble
*surrounds me with songs of deliverance
*shields me
All this as we hope in His Word.

I hasten to add that it doesn't mean we will never have a crisis or problem. It does mean no matter our concern, we have a place to run to for comfort and assurance of God's functioning on our behalf. As I read Corrine's story, I saw how in the worst of times, she would speak God's Word either to herself or to others. To do that, it meant she had spent hours in the Word leaning it and claiming it. I again say the key to our hiding place is the Word.

We're in the middle of holiday seasons. God is often left on the fringes of our lives. We should know by now that no matter the days, heartaches and troubles still come our way. It could be one of our written invitations coming from our “Hiding Place” could be:

Come unto me, all ye that labor and
are heavy laden, and I will give
you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn
of me; for I am meek and lowly
in heart: and ye shall find rest
unto your souls.
Matthew 11:28,29

Father, I'm so grateful You are my hiding place and can run to You where I can hide myself in you knowing You comfort and give me a time of rest because You are my security, nothing I have is mine but from You and You will always work for my well being. I love You. In Jesus' precious name....Amen

CAPTIVE FOR CHRIST

Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt
preserve me from trouble;
thou shalt compass me about
with songs of deliverance. Selah
Psalm 32:7
Thou art my hiding place and my
shield: I hope in thy word.
Psalm 119:114

Other than the Word of God, there are two writers who are spiritual heroes of mine. One is A. W. Tozer. He is a former pastor, now in Heaven, who really preached and wrote the Word without hesitation, to the point without hesitation. I read his books over and over again and still learn from him every time I delve into one of his books. The other favorite of mine without a doubt is Corrie Ten Boom, a lovely Dutch lady, a Christian with depth beyond telling who spent too much time in a German concentration camp custody.

I have a film of her adult life with her sister and father, entitled A Hiding Place showing the dedication of this family in hiding Jews in their home and vicinity from the Nazi's during World War II. It is amazing the lengths those three people went through to protect “God's people” as Corrie's father spoke of them. During their time of protecting people, they were probably responsible for keeping at least 80 people from death or death camps. People came and went from their home as needed but all along, no matter who came into his home, Papa Ten Boom shared Jesus with every person in their home. One of his favorite Scriptures was Psalm 91, a favorite of mine. A treacherous neighbor turned this family in to the Nazi's and the three Ten Boom's were arrested. Papa lived only a week or ten days while Corrie and Betsie were sent to the horrible prison camps.

I write right now because of being so convicted as I have read again Corrie's book, A Prisoner and Yet... This book is Corrie's writings that speaks to she and her sister's death camp days. My conviction comes from the fact that I am a spoiled brat Christian compared to Corrie and all she and Betsie lived through, yet with strong faith and reliance upon Jesus for every single need...ladies of praise to the Lord no matter how horrible their circumstances and treatment.

Some things they experienced were:

Bunks 30 inches wide where five women were expected to sleep together.
Standing in freezing weather for morning count sometimes for hours.
Could only go to the hospital if one had a temperature of 104.5 or more.
Turnips in broth was the daily fare.
Each had a blanket that was usually lice infested.
Women could be called for inspection with no notice but often in the nude.
Work was assigned to women prisoners from knitting to building roads.
Clothing in the beginning was a thin dress with an undershirt and torn up shoes.

There were beatings, mistreatment of various types not just from the Nazi's, but even from other captives. Corrie doesn't claim to never know times of distress, fright and even depression. She was in her 50's during this time so everything affected her physically in so many negative ways.

In it all, Corrie, despite Betsie's death in the camp hospital, kept her focus and faith in God. Her prayer life was strengthened as was her influence for the Lord. Sunday's she taught God's Word sometimes 4-5 times a day in her barracks. She ministered to ladies who were in deep distress often giving up what little food she had for someone else in need of it. What was so amazing to me was her recall of Scripture. She had been raised in a home with a father who taught his children God's Word on a daily basis. Her recall of Scripture was always appropriate speaking to a need, recalling verses of praise where she would praise God for the littlest of favors she received. She learned to be grateful for the smallest of things, like a slice of potato on a small piece of bread, blue skies, stars at night, flowers, the voice of a child singing.

In my reading, I look at my life and at Corries. I have to ask myself some question:

Do I have a grateful spirit for God's blessings in my life?
How often do I have a spirit of praise for the big and little things God has given me?
How well do I know the Word of God should I ever be where a Bible isn't available?
What is my prayer life like? Am I comfortable talking to my Father about everything?
Could I be strong under the same circumstances as Corrie had to endure?
Even now, how upset do I become with the least inconvenience in my life?

That last question bothered me even more as there are times I've been very upset when things don't go my way. We live in days right now where we may very well be called on to take stands for Jesus that can bring us persecution. Am I ready should that happen? Are we ready to endure Satan's mistreatment with a Godly spirit? We need to women of prayer, hours spent in the Scripture, and we'd better be looking at our lives with all the possessions and blessings that are ours comparing them with where our focus should be...on Jesus who is with us despite the positive or negatives life brings us.

Father, thank You for Your goodness in my life and forgive my ingratitude for blessing me in so many ways. I understand all I own is temporary and my relationship with You should be my priority. Help me to spend more time with You in prayer and in Your Word. Thank You for the good examples I have from whom I have learned so much. I love you...Amen