SOUL FOOD

10/19/09 Hungry for the Word? In God’s Word, Christ is revealed as the “Bread of Life” and the “Living Water.” Try to digest a small portion today. For me, great value comes from ingesting bit by bit, line upon line, as it were, rather than a large passage. Don’t get me wrong, context is gained from seeing the larger picture of a chapter or lengthy passage. But I tend to scan longer passages rather hurriedly, looking for words to pop out and speak to me and that’s not always a good thing. In years past I would skim a passage quickly in order to check another thing off of my spiritual “to do” list. Conviction! (Okay so I still do it on occasion.) It’s a faux meditation---a way of appeasing my conscience. Sometimes it’s just a habit----because it’s Monday and that’s what I do on Mondays. Not a bad habit to get washed by the water of the Word. It is cleansing. But God……knows the difference and so does my soul. It is way too easy to nibble at this banquet of spiritual food when I should be feasting.

Just as our physical bodies need “healthy” nourishment so does our soul. Without good food packed with vitamins and minerals we can become susceptible to disease---too weak to be effective in our work. Without our spiritual food, the scenario plays out in much the same way---weak in conviction, susceptible to temptation and unable to be effective in the work God has called us to do.

John 7:37-38

37Now on the last day, the great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. 38"He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, 'From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.'"

Today, my friend, drink fully and joyfully expect the flash flood of love that will flow from you to others.

WEDDING WISHES

10/17/09 Congratulations Kim and Andrew!!

Glowing bride. Proud papa. Beautiful ceremony made all the more special because of family participation. A brother-in-law singing. A cousin singing a song he had written. Sisters as matrons of honor. A brother to escort the radiant mom. An “ordained” brother-in-law to give the charge. Personal accounts of the spiritual heritage of the bride were meaningful and emphasized years of growing up in a devout family----where loving and serving the Lord were a part of the Huff way of life. A fun reception. A niece, nephews and grandparents, married for 61 years, joined in the dancing. Big smiles that covered the newlyweds’ faces throughout the evening.

How blessed I was to be a participant in the celebration of such a godly young lady. She was born June 10, 1981 when her family lived next door at 1162 Longreen. Tonight she carried the “hankie” that I had given her to wear home from the hospital. Sitting in the sanctuary, I had tears from the first notes of Pachelbel’s Cannon in D. Then when I saw the hankie, I puddled.

I have prayed for her all these years and for the spouse that she might someday choose. Maybe that’s why I was so emotional tonight. Her mom and I have prayed our “designated days” for each other all these years as well so I know first hand of her spiritual heritage. As she held her new hubby’s hand and headed toward the waiting limo, her honeymoon and her new life as Mrs. Andrew Carlton Dafferner, she turned to me and said, “I’ll be praying for you and your surgery. The heritage continues!

Lo, children are a heritage of the LORD: (Psalm 127:3a)

ON RETREAT

Off-line for the week-end---women's retreat and time with Molly, family visit at Pickwick and wedding of a dear friend's daughter----so-o-o-o many blessings.

Distractions to Dustractions

10/15/09 …………………a way of moving from a prescribed quiet time into His continual presence to learn life’s lessons.

More insights springing from my encounter with God is Closer Than You Think by John Ortberg kept coming to mind after reading yesterday’s blog. In that Luke passage (10:38-42) I saw Martha as a portrait of panic and her sister, Mary, more as a portrait of peace---a great analogy of the “dusting” going on in their lives. I assume Martha had been in a panic “dusting” the house--- perfectly acceptable in anticipation of welcoming the Lord into her home--but she didn’t leave it at that. She kept on in her busyness after He arrived even asking Him to admonish Mary, who was sitting (in peace) at His feet---in His dust.

Those Hebrews of old, closely following their favorite rabbis from place to place picked up their rabbi's dust, often being covered with the same dust as their master. The more one was with his teacher, the more he wore that dust. “Dust” those very small particles of a substance that accumulate in the form of a deposit---the more of it that is visible, the more evidence of the source. Jesus is my Rabboni---my Master Teacher. The dust of my life should reflect Him as my Source.

I think this blog is God’s way of reminding me, one who lives a distracted life, of just what to do. Ask for a little more “dust” –whether at work, in the grocery line, keeping Mommar, chasing grandboys or tossing in the middle of a sleepless night.

Instead of being distracted by wiping up dust as Martha did, may each of us wallow in His dust as Mary did.

Typos

10/14/09 As I have mentioned before, spell check thinks Dotsy is a misspelling of Ditsy which can certainly seem true if you know me well. Typos are a part of my journaling experience---that’s why I keep white out on my prayer chair table for all those handwritten “typos. ” But God…………often uses typos to teach me life lessons.

Preparing a lesson on Martha and Mary, (Luke 10:38-42) I was typing about the distractions in Martha’s life and providentially typed dustractions. (That “u” is right next to that “i”!) It became the theme of my lesson. In John Ortberg’s book, God is Closer Than You Think, there’s a chapter on sitting at Jesus’ feet. In His time, it was the custom for the Jews to follow their chosen rabbi, walking in His footsteps along those dusty roads of Bethany, Cana and Jerusalem, close enough to not only hear his message but also to observe His lifestyle. Close enough to take on His dust.
Just imagine following Jesus as he traveled, sitting as His feet and listening. Think of all the life lessons that could be garnered just by proximity to His dust!

The lesson then took on a new form---not so much as saying NO to distractions or DON’T DO THIS but a lesson more about substituting dustractions (more of Him) for the distractions of the world. (busyness)

Today, I think I will pull off my shoes and “dance” in my dusty house---pretending that it came from Him. I guess in a way it did because I chose to sit at His feet today rather than to dust my house---preferring His dustractions to the distractions of my house and what others would think if they saw my dust. May they see His “dust” instead of my dustless pride.

Join me in “dusting” every area of life with Jesus!

Papa Haydn

10/13/09 …………..the thoughts continue as people respond to the blog.
As Hoptown folks know, my piano teacher, Mrs. Bell’s house was “catercorner” to ours. I didn’t know that term---I only knew its variants, “catty-corner” and “kitty-corner”---thankfully with no cats involved n the origin, rather quatre or catre, which means four. Now that we’re all more informed with trivia that we will soon forget, let’s move on to Joseph Haydn whose ditty, that kept playing in my mind, brought back those memories.

I “googled” him and found that the rhyming tune which I had learned as a child were the first bars of his "Surprise Symphony" which he preformed in Hanover Square Rooms in London in 1792.

More importantly I found, as God would have it, direct quotes (though somewhat awkward in their semantics) from Haydn published by Billy Graham. Graham states that this great musician wrote cheerful church music. Now that’s worth remembering. Much like praise music lifts my heart today, his works must have lifted the hearts of long ago believers.

Haydn said, “When I think upon God, my heart is so full of joy that the notes dance and leap, as it were from, my pen, and since God has given me a cheerful heart, it will be pardoned me that I serve Him with a cheerful spirit.”

WOW---may that thought linger---not my struggles/trial or even fleeting glimpses of happiness---but as Haydn put it, “When I think upon God”……that’s when the joy comes!!! Makes me want to “dance.” How about you?

May my words DANCE from this computer today to remind you of the joy to be found in Him----after all joy is listed in the fruit of the Spirit.

Today---“Think upon Him” and dance!!!!!!

Lingering Memories ♫ ♫♫ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪

10/12/09 ♫ ♫♫ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♪

Papa Haydn's dead and gone
but his memory lingers on.
When his heart was full of bliss
he wrote merry tunes like this.

After all these many years, I still remember those words and plunking out that little ditty on the big upright piano in our front hall at 2211.

We had a piano. Someone needed to play it. So I was “chosen” for piano lessons.

During WWII, Daddy served as a platoon sergeant in the Philippines where he spent so much time in the jungle that according to him, his boots began to rot off his feet. Once as he led his platoon in pursuit of the enemy, he recalled coming upon an abandoned shack. Inside the dilapidated structure there was a piano. One of his soldiers sat down and played it for them and Daddy said he and all the men cried as their spirits were lifted by familiar music from home. At that point he decided, if and when he was able to return to the states to Mother and baby, Buddy, he would someday get a piano for their home. It was their first big acquisition for our old home place at 2211. I spent several years practicing on it. I must not have advanced too much because that ditty and “Falling Leaves” are the only ones I remember.

I do remember my piano teacher, Mrs. Bell. Her home was across the street so there was no “escape” as Mother would watch from our porch as Mrs. Bell awaited me on hers. She did have fun Christmas parties for us. All of her students got to sit at card tables set up in her living room---just like little grownups. We had candy and played a Cootie® game and another game she created with Mr. Potato Head®. Year after year it never varied but we liked it just the way it was----another lingering memory, I guess.

She also had recitals for us. I don’t remember the music but I remember it was on a stage. I also remember that I got to wear a long dress and had matching bows for my pigtails---my mother loved that part.

I wonder what lingering memories my children and grandchildren will have. Will they know what was important to me? Will they remember that God’s word filled my heart with bliss?

These words, which I am commanding you today, shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your sons and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise up. (Deuteronomy 6:6-7)

Let this scripture linger with you awhile today.

October 7

10/7/09 My grandfather, Robert William Davenport (aka “Dang-Dang”) was born on this day in 1896. I remember his funeral, August 5, 1965. I remember because there were so many flowers and at least ½ the population of Clarksville, TN, or so it seemed. A giant of a man to me with a gravely voice and a generous nature. He let me fill a sack with goodies every time I came to “his” store, Davenport’s Grocery at 3rd and Commerce. As a child, so I’ve been told, I always asked him for a “heavy” sack----the kind that would hold more, I imagine.

My grandmother, Margaret Louise Hooper Davenport, (aka “Mama”) died on this day in 1981. Small, petite and soft spoken, my first spiritual mentor. At her funeral I remember my mother telling me not to cry or I’d get her upset and “we” didn’t do things like that.

My precious niece, Allyson Leigh Adams, died on this day (1995) as well. She was only 18. Tall, slender and absolutely gorgeous. A real dancer too. I’ll never forget that morning walking out of the hospital in Owensboro, Ky---the closest one to where her wreck occurred. I seemed to be in a vacuum screaming for the world to stop and take notice, though no sound came. How could the cars keep driving by and people kept moving as if nothing had happened? It was surreal because something so life altering for all the Adams family had just drastically changed and no one was even taking notice. Our lives would never be the same. You’re probably thinking I should have named this entry, “Morbid Moments.” And it would have been that if that were the end of the story. But God……and the community of faith and family and friends rallied and prayed and fed and soothed. Bus loads of Tri Delts from UK lined the church walkway and sang their love song. Cars pulled over. People came out of their businesses and stood in quiet respect on Virginia Street as the long processional of cars followed the hearse to Riverside Cemetery.
Throughout the years her memory has continued to be honored with memorial services, a playground built at the Methodist church in her name, a stained glass window in the preschool area and a tree on the lawn of the ΔΔΔ house on the UK campus.

Deaths of loved ones can “rock” one’s world. Their funerals become images often recalled for years. How grateful I am for the Rock in my life, the One that is immutable. He offers hope---that blessed assurance shared by believers. If I didn’t have that faith, October 7 would cast a pall over my life each year when it rolled around. But God……..His Word reminds us:

"Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me.
"In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you.
"If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also.” (John 14:1-3)

His Word---It’s what gives us a future and a hope.

Prayer Place

10/5/09 Do you have a prayer place? Mine is a big chair in the corner of the living room. Out of the way and yet obvious, if you get my drift. It’s also beside a window that makes it perfect for seeing my cherry tree, that Josh gave me one Mother’s Day, as it changes with the seasons. Larry hauled the chair all the way from Charlene’s in Halls, TN for me because it was big enough that I could sit in it with my legs crossed under me. I also have a hand-sewn pillow whose fabric has bees embroidered on it----a reminder of Keeper of the Bees, a book loved by me and the two “dancers” in my life. It is also a perfect back support for my old back. The arms of this big old chair have been known to hold, all at once, 2-5 devotional books, a blue blog post-it pad, a box of Kleenix® for weeping Wednesdays (or just a drippy new nose and drooling new mouth) as well as a bowl of oatmeal.

Beside the chair is a decoupage red tray top table embellished with a fleur-de-lis like design that holds my “prizes”---a Bible, topped with my Metropolitan Museum of Art magnifying glass whose handle has carvings of Old Testament scenes, my Canterbury Cathedral mug that holds my assortment of pens, one is from The Cove and is a smooth writing kind with ink that seems to flow, a ballpoint duo which changes to a highlighter with just one turn, and my “extra sharp” sharpened pencils along with an assortment of highlighters differing in color---one comes with post-its in it allowing for page marking ease---and my ever present “Wite-Out.” Obviously not all folks understand my obsession with correctness but this self-professed “journaling junkie” prefers to tidy up mistakes, even in prayer journals. It is a malady that I am working on but have not quite conquered.
There’s also an assortment of perfect gifts on this small table ---a wonderful LUX fragrance candle with a silver cross accent, appropriately named Faith, handmade bookmarks, a MOTTAHEDEH dish that holds my Levenger plastic clips, assorted colored paper clips and sometimes my reading glasses, along with a National Trust leather coaster from Selworthy to hold my morning “cuppa.” The focal point of the table is a framed black and white picture of Daddy sitting in his rocker with his Bible opened and his Upper Room in his hand. The picture was a gift from brother, Buddy, and Charlotte and it is a treasure! The bottom of the table is anchored by my Mama Davenport’s family Bible and a “golf” watch fob that Larry hung there to assist this time compulsive lady who can sometimes let time slip away. Just to the side of this table is a wrought iron magazine rack (until I can afford a Canterbury style one) that is filled with folders of Allen Bible Church info, favorite verses, prayer portions, sermon notes, etc. It also holds a variety of old and new journals, and current reading materials---it really could use an overhaul at the moment.

The corner walls surround my prayer chair with other treasures/gifts. A hand- colored antique (300 years old) book plate, “Palma Dactylifera,” (Palm Sunday), two of Tony Williams antiquarian prints, one of Wells Cathedral and the other of remains of old Castle of Douglas, Larry’s grandmother’s family name. Tony and his wife, Liz, have provided housing for me on a couple of my England treks, from the coast to the most recent one in their Devon farmhouse. An iron cross with an antique patina and fleur-de-lis accents rounds out my prayer place.

So why Have I gone in to all this description of “my prayer place” which many of you have never seen? “My” place draws me! It awaits me! When I’m there, my mind and my spirit know why I’m there. Can you see why? Do you have such a place for prayer and meditation? If not, maybe now is the time to seek out such a place. Make it yours.

Streams in the Desert, (Oct.2) said, “In order to grow in grace we must spend a great deal of time in quiet solitude.” God Calling (Oct. 3) and yesterday’s “Upper Room” both cited the Psalm 46:10 verse.

“Be still and know that I am God;”

“God is the room I rest in.” (Thomas Merton)

Go now and find a place to think on these things.

Gentle Giant

10/1/09 I think it’s time to approach the next to last facet of the fruit of the spirit, gentleness. To do this, I’m sure each of us can conjure up a face, that face of one who comes to mind when we hear the word, gentle. I guarantee you that my face wouldn’t come to anyone’s mind---at least not anyone who knows me well. For me, it wouldn’t be my mother’s face either though her mother was one of the gentlest folks I ever knew. But the face that comes to my mind is that of my daddy. Daddy was and is big in stature and even at age 87, he stands very erect with all his 6’ 2”.
Grandaddy Brud, as my kids call him, has always been a man with a quiet and gentle spirit. I don’t recall him ever even raising his voice at me---or anyone for that matter. Of course, I was his only daughter. As a rambunctious little “tomboy” with skinned knees and lopsided pigtails, I sure earned some “severe” words from Mother, but never Daddy. Harsh words or profanity were just never a part of his vocabulary.
I’m leaving tomorrow to go to Kentucky to visit this gentle giant in my life. I will get to see my brothers as well---two others in my life who have always been gentle toward me. Blessed aren’t I!
I will be off line but I will be collecting THOTS on this fruit quality. I think God has a lot to teach me about gentleness now that I have become aware of my capacity to be “ungentle.” Maybe as Thomas Merton suggests, I’ll begin with small steps by just “closing doors gently” yet with the greater goal in mind. What is that greater goal? The answer is Ephesians 4: 1-2.

".....Walk worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience showing forbearance to one another in love,"