“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty [Whose power no foe can withstand]. I will say of the Lord, He is my Refuge and my Fortress, my God; on Him I lean and rely, and in Him I [confidently] trust! For [then] He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence. [Then] He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings shall you trust and find refuge; His truth and His faithfulness are a shield and a buckler.
You shall not be afraid of the terror of the night, nor of the arrow (the evil plots and slanders of the wicked) that flies by day, Nor of the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor of the destruction and sudden death that surprise and lay waste at noonday. A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you. Only a spectator shall you be [yourself inaccessible in the secret place of the Most High] as you witness the reward of the wicked.
Because you have made the Lord your refuge, and the Most High your dwelling place, There shall no evil befall you, nor any plague or calamity come near your tent. For He will give His angels [especial] charge over you to accompany and defend and preserve you in all your ways [of obedience and service]. They shall bear you up on their hands, lest you dash your foot against a stone. You shall tread upon the lion and adder; the young lion and the serpent shall you trample underfoot.
Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore will I deliver him; I will set him on high, because he knows and understands My name [has a personal knowledge of My mercy, love, and kindness—trusts and relies on Me, knowing I will never forsake him, no, never]. He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him My salvation” Psalm 91 (AMPC).
Billy Graham retells the story of a little girl who was a passenger on a plane in which her daddy was one of the pilots. During the night the stewardess woke the little girl as the plane began to experience turbulence while crossing the Atlantic Ocean, requiring her to put on her seat belt. The little girl asked the stewardess if her daddy was at the controls. Yes, the stewardess responded, he was in the cockpit. The little girl smiled and peacefully returned to her sleeping.
This is what it is to trust in our Heavenly Father through turbulent times in our own lives. This is worry-free faith.
“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths” Proverbs 3:5-6 (KJV).
Photo Credit: Jaymantri
Hope you enjoyed reading this post and will consider sharing your thoughts, following me on social media, and subscribing to my blog.
“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
~~~John 3:16 (KJV)~~~
The Sinner’s Prayer
Dear Lord Jesus, I know I am a sinner. I ask for Your forgiveness. I believe You died for my sins and rose from the dead. I turn from my sins and invite You to come into my heart and life. I want to trust and follow You as my Lord and Savior. Amen.
Photo Credit: Moi
p.s. It is my earnest desire for you, my dear reader, to come to know Jesus as your Lord and Savior, and to grow as a Christian.
Blessings!
This post may contain affiliate links for which I may earn compensation at no additional cost to you.
I really can’t recall ever not having a cat. My first cat, Pepper, a black calico was born when I was three and had litters and litters of kittens over the years. She was a kitten belonging to Fluffy. And, as is the case on many farms, cats run free and reproduce almost as often as rabbits. One of Pepper’s kittens was Caramel, a white calico. And, one of Caramel’s kittens was la petite Caramel, also a white calico. By this time I must have been studying French.
My dad’s mother always had cats, all pure white. I preferred the darker fur, especially tiger stripe. Cats are usually good mousers. I’m certain this is why farmers are often okay with having so many cats on the loose. However, unless there are children, cat lovers by nature, these farm cats are often not accustom to being handled.
Growing up we really weren’t suppose to have animals in the house. We did though. Matter of fact, Caramel gave birth to a litter of kittens while we soundly slept one night, right under my sister’s bed! And even though mother cats keep a pretty close eye on their kittens, especially until the kitten’s eyes are open, our mother cats even occasionally gave birth while we children watched. Absolutely amazing!
I do recall though, watching the mother cat carry her kittens one at a time, her teeth clinched at the nape of their little necks, as she transported them to the south end of the barn. This was a safe place from us and fun training ground for the kittens, a bed of wild lavender, purple and white clover. In no time it seemed, she would lead them back across the drive to the lean-to shed and our anxious, loving little hands.
What I did not realize was Dad “never really cared for cats”. Wow! All those years growing up I never knew this until just a few years ago when he and Mother were visiting us. Two of our cats were rarely ever seen by anyone but us. Trixie, however, was a people cat, very curious and had a calm kind of courage about her. In no time at all she somehow discovered Dad. Brazenly curious she intentionally perched on the edge of the round table, eye level with Dad, as he sat in the Queen Anne wing chair right beside it. I held my breath for a second wondering just what might happen during this encounter. I warned Dad as he put forth his hand to pester her that she was not declawed. Fortunately no altercations; blood or otherwise occurred. Oddly enough this was the first time Dad had ever mentioned his disinterest in cats. Who knew?
A few months later we had opportunity for an extended visit with my parents on the farm. Of course, our three cats came with us. Before we came to visit I discussed our cats with them. I wanted them to understand that our cats never go outdoors and are truly part of our family. I needed to be sure they really would be okay with our cats in their home and that they too would respect our cats’ needs, especially understanding how they were never to be let outside. Two of our cats do not have their front claws. And besides they have always been indoor cats. Especially considering their ages (Trixie being sixteen, Heidi and Megan both nine) it would simply be too much for them to even accidentally be let outside on the farm. Mother and Dad discussed my concerns. Mother said yes, they were fine with the cats just as long as I “take care of them”.
It was fun to observe my parents as they interacted with our cats. With Mother’s vision being severely impaired I sometimes wondered if she only thought she was talking to Trixie and not an inanimate object. It was easy to see she really liked cats which is probably why we were allowed to have so many cats during our childhood, and why it never really was a big deal when they occasionally somehow did end up inside the house.
Dad was the fun one to watch with our cats, especially Trixie. Our son adopted her when he was five and she was only eight weeks old. She very easily fit inside his little Winnie the Pooh ball cap. My husband said our son cried when the adoption agency explained how he could not take her home for another week, surgery and shots, etc.,…To say Trixie was spoiled by all three of us would certainly be a true statement, but a choice we freely made. Our cats have brought us so much joy, it only seems fitting to spoil them a bit.
Trixie has always done whatever she pleases whenever she pleases. And with her advancing in age we really have no business thinking we were going to now begin teaching an old cat new tricks; so to speak. Just the same after years of letting her and her alone demand to be given a drink from the bathroom faucet, we figured this would be a good opportunity to discontinue doing so. The tiny surface area of our bathroom sink in our cape cod was slightly slanted and with her aging, occasionally she would slip and fall. Needless to say Trixie continued to jump up on the bathroom counter at my parents’ home and would patiently wait in hopes someone might oblige her. We didn’t give in, though I’m not so sure about Dad.
One morning I heard her meowing. Thinking she was waiting for me to open the bedroom door, I quickly called out to her. To my surprise Dad answered my call and said she was with him, with him in the bathroom! I have yet to ask just what was going on in there and maybe I won’t ask. At any rate, cats are very independent and will do as they please whenever it pleases them. Their independent behavior is a little baffling to Dad as he often asked me just why my cat is doing what she is doing. Cats are cats and have their own ways just like any other animal. So, Dad would continue to ask me and I would continue to give the same response each time. “Why does your cat drink out of the toilet? Why does your cat drink out of the flower pot? What’s your cat doing in there?” She’s a cat, Dad. This is just what cats do.
Hope you enjoyed reading this post and will consider sharing your thoughts, following me on social media, and subscribing to my blog.
This post may contain affiliate links for which we may earn compensation when you click on the links at no additional cost to you.
Dad grew up on the adjoining farm, another very small farm which included a very small two bedroom farmhouse with a very large family. Grandpa farmed and Grandma did the cooking and cleaning. They worked hard, just as everyone did back then. No modern conveniences. Just the same they reared eleven children. Even though Grandpa thought eleven children was not enough, Grandma certainly did and so eleven it was. She was simply an amazing woman, a God-fearing amazing woman who loved all her children.
Out of those eleven children there were only three girls. Oh My! It has been said that my grandmother could identify each of her sons by the sound of their footsteps as they walked through the kitchen late at night. I venture to say she really did not sleep until she had heard each and every son’s footsteps.
Today, for the first time in about a million years I had the opportunity to visit with the second to youngest uncle. Ornery should have been the middle name given to each of my uncles at birth, each and every one of them! As he was growling about not seeing me in such a very long time, I finally interrupted by saying “If you have missed me so much and would stop growling and instead give me a hug”. He did give me a hug, all the while continuing to growl a bit longer about my being away all these years.
The two youngest uncles are only about ten years older than all of us older cousins and were still living at home for a few years after many of us were born. I will never forget riding in their cars, sitting in the backseat leaning over the front seat as we sped over the gravel roads. seat belts anyone? Were we flying? It certainly felt like we might actually have lifted off the ground a time or two. I do recall the thrill of lifting off the seat on more than one occasion. I’m certain my parents knew we were with them, but did they know just how fast we were traveling, on gravel roads no less.
Spending a few days each summer at Grandpa and Grandma’s always included interesting experiences especially while these two youngest uncles were still living at home, siblings who had to share just about everything, including dress shoes or so it seemed. The youngest uncle was upset with this growling uncle that I speak of. It seems he had borrowed his dress shoes and had failed to mention it. The youngest uncle discovered this while getting ready for a date. Boy, was he mad and boy, did he give this uncle a chewing out!
Whatever girl cousins were staying, along with my sister and me, all shared a hide-a-bed sofa in the living room. Privacy was not considered essential for little girls, pre-puberty as we all were at the time. Taking a bath in a horse trough in the backyard on summer afternoons was just normal. Yes, my grandparent’s house had a bathroom by this time, but maybe Grandma thought it a much more refreshing experience for us to bath in the out of doors. Really I expect the cleaning up was much quicker this way, she certainly had enough to do as it was. The lack of privacy must not have been a concern in her eyes either, as I remember at least one of these two uncles coming into the backyard where we were bathing and having a casual conversation with Grandma while we scrubbed our bare little bodies. This was just the way it was, sort of like stepping back in time a bit, whenever we visited our grandparents.
And this is just the way all my uncles were, and especially this growling uncle. So even though he growled all the way through our short welcoming home encounter, growling is his mode of operation. I already knew this and so also knew how to play along. And I knew he was glad to see me. I also realize he has many fond memories of my childhood, many I am sure I do not even remember. So I am just glad he was glad to see me.
As he left the house he growled his parting comment to me “See you later Ugly”. Yes, that’s my uncle.
Hope you enjoyed reading this post and will consider sharing your thoughts, following me on social media, and subscribing to my blog.
This post may contain affiliate links for which we may earn compensation when you click on the links at no additional cost to you.
