At Calvary

As I carried a cup of tea from the kitchen to my digital piano, gentle rays of sunset landed on my hymnal, beckoning me to take this photo. It seems to me that such moments are a fleeting taste of heaven, where the undying light of our Lord Jesus will illuminate all as we sing His praises so lovingly.

I began to play “At Calvary”, a hymn I have always rendered in a slow, gentle manner, but which until tonight had not worked through my fingertips in years. As I read the words I’d sung so many times, really read them, by the second verse I stopped playing, overcome by emotion. I took a sip of tea and read on, but couldn’t swallow for tears.

“It’s about me,” I thought. “Oh, how this song is about me. How did I not see this before?”

I thought about the hour I first believed, back in 1987, reliving my conversion from doomed sinner to saved saint. I finally swallowed my tea and thanked the Lord out loud. 

1. Years I spent in vanity and pride,
Caring not my Lord was crucified,
Knowing not it was for me He died on Calvary.


Mercy there was great, and grace was free;
Pardon there was multiplied to me;
There my burdened soul found liberty at Calvary.

2. By God’s Word at last my sin I learned;
Then I trembled at the law I’d spurned,
Till my guilty soul imploring turned to Calvary.


3. Now I’ve given to Jesus everything,
Now I gladly own Him as my King,
Now my raptured soul can only sing of Calvary!


4. Oh, the love that drew salvation’s plan!
Oh, the grace that brought it down to man!
Oh, the mighty gulf that God did span at Calvary!



You Make Me Happy When You Smile

“You make me happy when you smile.”

That is what my 12-year-old son, CWL, said to me just now.

Those are the sweetest words that have been said to me in a long time.

Dying to Be With You

​As Brennan Manning said, “The Crucified Jesus says: ‘I am dying to be with you.  I am really dying to be with you.'”

How beautiful. How amazing! I don’t go on Brennan Manning’s or anyone else’s words, but I know that when they line up with God’s Word, they are true. 

When I think upon the reality of it, I am moved to tears. Jesus died to be with me. And I am so glad He did not stay dead.

This world is NOT my home.

(Thank You, Lord. Collect these tears – they are all I can give You. They speak of my love for You in words I do not have.)

Gratitude is not always easy

me and charlie
Today I am grateful for:

1.  The colourful hat I have on my head.  It was left here by my third daughter, who had borrowed it from my first daughter.  My first daughter is in long-term rehab and I miss her.  Wearing her hat warms my head and my heart with thoughts of her.

2.  Tears that are flowing from my eyes while I write, to help wash out a smidgen of the pain I have been enduring of late.

3.  Having heard from a friend with whom I had once thought I had lost touch forever, but from whom I now occasionally hear, and he even subscribed to my blog.  (Hola, Señor Heelez).

4.  The sip of Zevia ginger rootbeer that was just brought to me by my eight-year-old son.  He said, “Here’s some fresh Zevia that I just opened.  It’s fresh.”

5.  The smell of lentils and barley cooking in the kitchen, to which I am about to add carrots, onions, garlic, celery, and chopped ham.

And an extra mention of gratitutde to the blogger at Inspirationenergy, who inadvertently prompted me to write this — Inspirationenergy’s Gratitude Page.

Picture 7 (3)-1

me and charlie2 me and charlie3

For more gratitutdes, check out:  my Gratitudes category.

Today’s Twisted Gratitudes

Today I am grateful for:

1.  The dryer in my laundry room, which not only dries our laundry, but today it performed the job of masking the sobs that wrenched from my beaten down heart so the rest of my family didn’t have to hear me cry.
2.  Long sleeves on my shirts to wipe my tears.
3.  Supportive friends in the groups for highly sensitive people where I find a bit of solace.
4.  This blog, where I can let a little bit of my pain bleed out.
5.  My faith that heaven is my final destination.

Come, Lord Jesus.  Quickly.  Please.

How do I stop the music?

Music usually soothes me, but not lately.

What was once my medicine has become my poison.

The only songs I write anymore are sad ones.

I don’t want to write the lyrics, yet they come to mind.

Sometimes I can force them away.

Other times, I write them down through eyes blurred by tears.

Today, while I was at the grocery store, I felt such sadness over hearing music through the speakers, I had to fight crying.

I want the pain to stop, but I am not feeling hopeful that it will.

While driving home, I saw a semi headed towards me.  I was alone in my little car.  I thought, as I’ve thought many times before, about how easy it would be to drive head-on into that semi.  I would die instantly.  The semi would be left with minor damage.

The only thing keeping me alive is the thought that my children might suffer if I am not around.

Tears of love from my 8-year-old son

My dear, precious, eight-year-old son has such a sensitive heart.  Tonight, as I was tucking him into bed, he had tears in his eyes as he said he was worried about the end of the world.

I told him that the Bible says nobody knows the day nor the hour when Jesus is coming back, but that He will be coming back.

I comforted him by reminding him that if Jesus came back even right now, we’d all suddenly be together in heaven – Daddy wouldn’t be at work but he’d be right there in heaven with us, and all his siblings would be there too… except, I’m not sure about my oldest daughter, and we pray for her in that regard.

I told him that all the people who help out at the kids program he goes to in the summertime at the local church would be there, and I named some of them that I know.

He seemed relieved, but then he squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, “What about Gramma?”

I said, “Yes, Gramma will be there. Gramma loves the Lord.”

He asked, “What about Grampa?”

I said, “I don’t know. I’ve not talked to him in a long time. He has his personal problems and doesn’t want to talk to me, but last I knew, he didn’t love the Lord.”

And then my little boy’s tears fell so painfully down his cheeks as he thought about my dad not being in heaven.

I said, “We can pray for him right now.”

I held his hand and we prayed for my dad’s salvation.

When we were done praying, he tried to be strong and said, “OK, I need to stop thinking about this. Let’s talk about something else.”

My dear, tender-hearted little boy has so much love in him and a double-dose of HSP (highly sensitive person), with both parents being that way.

I pray that he will always trust the Lord as innocently as he does now.




What a soothing experience it is to search for a background and font to suit the sentiment I wish to display.

(PS:  After I clicked the button to publish this, I looked at it again and realized it looks small.  Does anyone know a way to allow the picture to be viewed in a larger form?  In my draft, the picture size is 1200 x 755, but what shows up in my public blog is a lot smaller.)