Last night...after a busy day of shopping, baking, wrapping and decorating...I had a bit of quiet time to just sit and think about Christmas and all the hardships and blessings my family has gone through over the years. I thought of the Christmas I moved to PA with my mother and my three children after a divorce from an abusive husband. We had little money, but were able to buy each child one gift and make them each a decorator pillow for their bed. Their stockings were filled with nuts, fruit and one small chocolate treat. We had a small tree and decorated it with popcorn and cranberries (no money for lights) and made paper snowflakes for the windows. I made a straw wreath for the door. I made one too for my sister in California and we sent it along with a cassette tape that Mom, the kids and I made singing Carols by the piano and entertaining each other with a little Christmas skit.
At the time, my mother and I thought it was a disappointing Christmas for the kids. Before that year (1985) Christmas Eve was spent with lots of family and friends at my Aunt Dot's in Southern California and the children usually had quite a few gifts on Christmas morning. That first year in PA was a hard one, but taught us many lessons on life and what was important. Now that they are grown the children remember that Christmas as one of their most memorable holidays ever.
Today I am thinking of my son who is serving in Okinawa. This will be his first Christmas away from home. He is certainly safe and will be coming home in January, but my prayer for him...and for all the servicemen and women who will be spending Christmas away from home... is that they will find comfort in time spent with friends and memories of holidays at home, that they will be able to find a safe, quiet place to rest and reflect on the true meaning of the holiday and that the Lord will protect them and bring them home safely when their tours are over.
This year especially, I pray for the mending of broken family relationships and the strengthening of healthy ones. I pray for the prodigals to come home and for parents to welcome them with open arms and for us all to open our hearts to the possibilities of what can be if we are willing to be Jesus to one another in a dark world.
Have a Blessed Christmas!
Carol
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Passing It On
As Thanksgiving fast approaches, my mind drifts through the many past holidays spent with family and friends. The good memories sometimes escape us as we go through the trials and hardships that come our way on this journey. With that...I would invite you find a way to make sure your family stories are shared and and passed on so that future generations can weave a tapestry of family history that is so important in the transient society of today.
For myself, I keep a journal for each of my children. I don't write in all of them every week...sometimes not every month...but in each one there are glimpes of myself, special memories of them, a history of what is going on in the world around them, my dreams and prayers for each of them, and (yes) a few bits of "wisdom" from their older, wiser mother.
Below you will find a story taken from a wonderful devotional that I think any military family would enjoy..perhaps a lovely Christmas gift or just an "I love you".
Have a Blessed and Peaceful Thanksgiving!
November 7
The Family Line
Tell your children about it in the years to come, and let your children tell their children. Pass the story down from generation to generation. + JOEL 1:3
A genealogical study on the Pace family led us to discover that my husband's ancestors were carpenters and woodworkers. This was especially interesting since his grandfather actually was a furniture maker who passed the business to my husband's uncle, who then passed the family business to his son. My husband himself has always enjoyed working with wood and has built several lovely pieces of cherished furniture that stand in our home. This same pleasure for building and working with his hands is seen in our youngest son. It is fascinating to study these genealogical threads of talent as gifts and interests are passed from generation to generation.
There are some tangible things I hope will pass from generation to generation to generation in our family. I don't have any valuable family heirlooms, but I hope the pieces of furniture built by Pace hands will continue to be treasured when my husband and I are gone. I also hope the journals I have kept over the years and the Bibles my husband has read and written in will be read and valued by my children. My prayer is that they will see the inner thoughts of an authentic faith. I pray that as they read the words behind the actions, they will see the doubts, the fears, and the imperfections but also the confirmation of what they saw us live--that God was always the center of our lives.
A cherished memory for me is walking by my father's bedroom and seeing him on his knees beside his bed. As a child and teenager in my father's home, I knew it wasn't a show on my behalf. It was an action of his authentic faith that helped attract me to making that faith my own.
In a spiritual sense, I can pass on a legacy of faith to my children. I can pass down stories of God answering prayers for our family. I can pass down values based on biblical principles. I can pass down traditions that illuminate our beliefs. The faith that is so important in the lives of me and my husband, however, must be individually accepted by my children and their children. May it be from generation to generation! ...Brenda
* * *
Father, be glorified in my home today. Help me to communicate a genuine faith that will live on long after I am gone. Remind me that I am not responsible for the salvation of others, but I am responsible to live a life that is built on your saving grace. May our family line continue to have the thread of grace flowing through. + Amen.
Taken from The One Year ® Yellow Ribbon Devotional by Brenda Pace and Carol McGlothlin. Copyright © 2008 by Brenda Pace and Carol McGlothlin. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publisher, inc., Carol Stream, IL 60188. All rights reserved.
For myself, I keep a journal for each of my children. I don't write in all of them every week...sometimes not every month...but in each one there are glimpes of myself, special memories of them, a history of what is going on in the world around them, my dreams and prayers for each of them, and (yes) a few bits of "wisdom" from their older, wiser mother.
Below you will find a story taken from a wonderful devotional that I think any military family would enjoy..perhaps a lovely Christmas gift or just an "I love you".
Have a Blessed and Peaceful Thanksgiving!
November 7
The Family Line
Tell your children about it in the years to come, and let your children tell their children. Pass the story down from generation to generation. + JOEL 1:3
A genealogical study on the Pace family led us to discover that my husband's ancestors were carpenters and woodworkers. This was especially interesting since his grandfather actually was a furniture maker who passed the business to my husband's uncle, who then passed the family business to his son. My husband himself has always enjoyed working with wood and has built several lovely pieces of cherished furniture that stand in our home. This same pleasure for building and working with his hands is seen in our youngest son. It is fascinating to study these genealogical threads of talent as gifts and interests are passed from generation to generation.
There are some tangible things I hope will pass from generation to generation to generation in our family. I don't have any valuable family heirlooms, but I hope the pieces of furniture built by Pace hands will continue to be treasured when my husband and I are gone. I also hope the journals I have kept over the years and the Bibles my husband has read and written in will be read and valued by my children. My prayer is that they will see the inner thoughts of an authentic faith. I pray that as they read the words behind the actions, they will see the doubts, the fears, and the imperfections but also the confirmation of what they saw us live--that God was always the center of our lives.
A cherished memory for me is walking by my father's bedroom and seeing him on his knees beside his bed. As a child and teenager in my father's home, I knew it wasn't a show on my behalf. It was an action of his authentic faith that helped attract me to making that faith my own.
In a spiritual sense, I can pass on a legacy of faith to my children. I can pass down stories of God answering prayers for our family. I can pass down values based on biblical principles. I can pass down traditions that illuminate our beliefs. The faith that is so important in the lives of me and my husband, however, must be individually accepted by my children and their children. May it be from generation to generation! ...Brenda
* * *
Father, be glorified in my home today. Help me to communicate a genuine faith that will live on long after I am gone. Remind me that I am not responsible for the salvation of others, but I am responsible to live a life that is built on your saving grace. May our family line continue to have the thread of grace flowing through. + Amen.
Taken from The One Year ® Yellow Ribbon Devotional by Brenda Pace and Carol McGlothlin. Copyright © 2008 by Brenda Pace and Carol McGlothlin. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publisher, inc., Carol Stream, IL 60188. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Reflections from the Summit
If you were blessed to be at the NDP Prayer Summit last week-end, you know what an awesome time we had lifting our nation up to our Lord. The week-end was just an amazing experience from start to finish. However, the speaker that touched my heart the most was Major Jim Lively, USMC.
Major Lively has served 11 years of active duty and much of his time deployed to the Middle East. In sharing a few stories of his service (at times with tears in his eyes), Major Lively was able to give us picture of what he and the other military men and women are going through while serving overseas. He was quick to point out that he truly believes that the prayers of his mother (and others) protected him through very difficult situations and brought him home safely. Major Lively directed us to nine points to keep in mind when lifting our military up in prayer. Please keep them in mind during your quiet time and perhaps share them with your family, friends and churches so that we can provide a blanket of prayer over those who serve us all so well.
Prayer Points
***Courage
***Discipline
***Protection
***Patience
***Endurance
***Integrity
***Reconciliation
***Healing
***Families and Marriages
We invite you to watch the Military Page on this web site for an upcoming opportunity to hear an audio clip of Major Lively’s time with us.
Major Lively has served 11 years of active duty and much of his time deployed to the Middle East. In sharing a few stories of his service (at times with tears in his eyes), Major Lively was able to give us picture of what he and the other military men and women are going through while serving overseas. He was quick to point out that he truly believes that the prayers of his mother (and others) protected him through very difficult situations and brought him home safely. Major Lively directed us to nine points to keep in mind when lifting our military up in prayer. Please keep them in mind during your quiet time and perhaps share them with your family, friends and churches so that we can provide a blanket of prayer over those who serve us all so well.
Prayer Points
***Courage
***Discipline
***Protection
***Patience
***Endurance
***Integrity
***Reconciliation
***Healing
***Families and Marriages
We invite you to watch the Military Page on this web site for an upcoming opportunity to hear an audio clip of Major Lively’s time with us.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Remembering 9/11
On a trip to Western PA last year a friend blessed me with a visit to a small piece of history near Shanksville that I would invite you to see if you are ever traveling through that way. The Flt. 93 Memorial Chapel is dedicated to the passengers and crew that lost their lives there on 9/11/2001. It is a beautiful and inspiring place to visit and lovingly cared for by Father Alphonse Mascherino, the Director and Curator. There are many services at the chapel during the year (one on the first Thursday in May for National Day of Prayer), but there will be a gathering on 9/11 that will be memorable I am sure.
Please visit them at www.flt93memorialchapel.org for more information.
Just a bit down an old country road from the chapel we visited the site of the plane crash. There were two chain link fences groaning from all the mementos left there by a variety of people…first responders (one was a firefighters jacket from Shanksville signed by those who were there that tragic day), license plates and magnets from various states, notes, teddy bears, flags, ball caps, crosses, flowers, and more…all left by people wanting to connect, to remember, to be a part of honoring those quiet heroes.
After walking around the memorial site, we sat on the wooden benches inscribed with the names of the passengers and crew that lost their lives. The sky was a beautiful blue accented by puffy white clouds and we sat quietly…looking at the empty field (the final resting place for so many) marked only by the American flag, standing strong and proud…blowing gently in the breeze. The silence was deafening and it was hard to breathe….harder yet to leave. I prayed and wanted to linger, to remember and yet not remember what happened that day.
There are plans in the works to build a larger…more impressive memorial, but (at least for me) there can be no better place to visit than this people’s tribute to all who lost their lives. These were ordinary people going to work, vacationing with family, traveling for business ….many different reasons for being on a plane that day…or in the Twin Towers or the Pentagon. Yes, planes go down every day because of mechanical failure, pilot error, and weather. However, the planes that went down on 9/11 were used as instruments of terror, meant to destroy our country, and put fear in the hearts of our citizens. I think it had the opposite effect. We became more aware, more caring, stronger, and more willing to stand as one people, one nation…under God.
As the anniversary fast approaches, please remember to keep all those families who lost loved ones on 9/11 in your prayers.
Please visit them at www.flt93memorialchapel.org for more information.
Just a bit down an old country road from the chapel we visited the site of the plane crash. There were two chain link fences groaning from all the mementos left there by a variety of people…first responders (one was a firefighters jacket from Shanksville signed by those who were there that tragic day), license plates and magnets from various states, notes, teddy bears, flags, ball caps, crosses, flowers, and more…all left by people wanting to connect, to remember, to be a part of honoring those quiet heroes.
After walking around the memorial site, we sat on the wooden benches inscribed with the names of the passengers and crew that lost their lives. The sky was a beautiful blue accented by puffy white clouds and we sat quietly…looking at the empty field (the final resting place for so many) marked only by the American flag, standing strong and proud…blowing gently in the breeze. The silence was deafening and it was hard to breathe….harder yet to leave. I prayed and wanted to linger, to remember and yet not remember what happened that day.
There are plans in the works to build a larger…more impressive memorial, but (at least for me) there can be no better place to visit than this people’s tribute to all who lost their lives. These were ordinary people going to work, vacationing with family, traveling for business ….many different reasons for being on a plane that day…or in the Twin Towers or the Pentagon. Yes, planes go down every day because of mechanical failure, pilot error, and weather. However, the planes that went down on 9/11 were used as instruments of terror, meant to destroy our country, and put fear in the hearts of our citizens. I think it had the opposite effect. We became more aware, more caring, stronger, and more willing to stand as one people, one nation…under God.
As the anniversary fast approaches, please remember to keep all those families who lost loved ones on 9/11 in your prayers.
Friday, August 15, 2008
All My Love...All My Life
“All My Love…All My Life”
That is how my father used to sign his cards and letters that he sent to my mother over the years.
They were married in 1939 (my mother was 16, my father 21). They started their married life living in a small apartment over my maternal grandparents’ home, working hard and planning their life together. Then on Dec. 7, 1941 they were gathered around the radio with my grandparents and other extended family members listening to a music/variety show (no TV back then) when a news bulletin came on saying that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. That week my father went to enlist and became a US Navy Seabee. At one point, they were separated for 3 years while my father served in the Pacific Theater. His letters were (of course) sometimes short and a long time in arriving, but always ended with “all my love…all my life”.
When the war ended and he came home, it was with malaria and memories no one should have to carry with them. Some nights the dreams would overcome him and he would grab my mother, shoving her to the floor thinking that they were back in the reality of war and that they were under attack.
Those were hard times for both of them, but my mother never left his side, never thought of giving up.Like all marriages, they had their ups and downs, but never did I doubt their unending love for each other.My mother is still (at the age of 85) the Proverbs 31 woman…always working, helping, and caring for her family. My father has long since gone Home. Still, the memory of him on one knee, following my mother around the room, when she was angry with him, strumming his guitar and singing “What’s The Reason I Ain’t Pleasin’ You” brings a smile to my face.
I often think how that is the kind of love our precious Lord has for us. He gave His only begotten Son to make a bridge back to Heaven where there had been no way. Over and over again He is willing to forgive us for our sins, always walking with us through the fires of life. When we ignore Him, He cries for us and longs for us to return to Him. Even though many of us have been prodigal children at one time or another, He welcomes us back when we ask His forgiveness and repent of our sins… still holding a special place in the kingdom for each one of us…never giving up on us and always…..always…giving us
All His love all our lives.
That is how my father used to sign his cards and letters that he sent to my mother over the years.
They were married in 1939 (my mother was 16, my father 21). They started their married life living in a small apartment over my maternal grandparents’ home, working hard and planning their life together. Then on Dec. 7, 1941 they were gathered around the radio with my grandparents and other extended family members listening to a music/variety show (no TV back then) when a news bulletin came on saying that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. That week my father went to enlist and became a US Navy Seabee. At one point, they were separated for 3 years while my father served in the Pacific Theater. His letters were (of course) sometimes short and a long time in arriving, but always ended with “all my love…all my life”.
When the war ended and he came home, it was with malaria and memories no one should have to carry with them. Some nights the dreams would overcome him and he would grab my mother, shoving her to the floor thinking that they were back in the reality of war and that they were under attack.
Those were hard times for both of them, but my mother never left his side, never thought of giving up.Like all marriages, they had their ups and downs, but never did I doubt their unending love for each other.My mother is still (at the age of 85) the Proverbs 31 woman…always working, helping, and caring for her family. My father has long since gone Home. Still, the memory of him on one knee, following my mother around the room, when she was angry with him, strumming his guitar and singing “What’s The Reason I Ain’t Pleasin’ You” brings a smile to my face.
I often think how that is the kind of love our precious Lord has for us. He gave His only begotten Son to make a bridge back to Heaven where there had been no way. Over and over again He is willing to forgive us for our sins, always walking with us through the fires of life. When we ignore Him, He cries for us and longs for us to return to Him. Even though many of us have been prodigal children at one time or another, He welcomes us back when we ask His forgiveness and repent of our sins… still holding a special place in the kingdom for each one of us…never giving up on us and always…..always…giving us
All His love all our lives.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
In God We Trust
On an old, worn barnboard hanging high on my living room wall are those simple, familiar words that mean so much to me. Beneath it, are 7 photos of my family members.....all in uniform...who have served or are currently serving in our nations military forces. There are 3 generations represented there beginning with my father (a Navy Seabee) and ending, for now, with my youngest son (just leaving on his first deployment as a Marine). Their service years have taken them to New Guinea, Subic Bay, Liberia, Haiti, Bosnia and Guantanamo Bay to name a few...through WWII to Desert Storm and now there will be more of those far off places added to the list. The strength and dedication shown by those represented on the wall leaves me humbled and blessed to call them family.
Once again, our nation has come to a critical time in history. We are no longer as safe on American soil as we once were. The fight against terrorism has cost many lives on all sides and will undoubtedly cost many more. Yet at this very dangerous point, young men and women continue to volunteer to serve. They leave friends and family behind to take up the banner of hope and freedom in strange and often hostile lands. We at home are privileged to be able to lift them up to our heavenly Father in prayer, trusting that His will be done in their lives and ours.
As a military mom, each month I will be sharing a piece of my heart with you. I invite your comments, stories, and prayer requests, as well as your ideas on how we can better support our service men and women and their families while we continue to trust in God.
Once again, our nation has come to a critical time in history. We are no longer as safe on American soil as we once were. The fight against terrorism has cost many lives on all sides and will undoubtedly cost many more. Yet at this very dangerous point, young men and women continue to volunteer to serve. They leave friends and family behind to take up the banner of hope and freedom in strange and often hostile lands. We at home are privileged to be able to lift them up to our heavenly Father in prayer, trusting that His will be done in their lives and ours.
As a military mom, each month I will be sharing a piece of my heart with you. I invite your comments, stories, and prayer requests, as well as your ideas on how we can better support our service men and women and their families while we continue to trust in God.
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