A PLACE OF PRAYER

 Since my episode in hospital, I had found it hard to return to a regular prayer time. I needed help and it was at hand.

After some readings which pointed in the right direction, I found God was using my godly imagination. My upward climb had brought me to a mighty temple and a voice from within assured me that the door was not locked, and that it would always be open to me.

Without a struggle I found myself within and knew I was in the presence of our Almighty God and Father, but he did not look up. He was aware of my presence, but also of my  interest, but what was he doing? He seemed to be at work on some masterpiece. He who created every star and planet, every tiny creature or beautiful plant, was working on something very special. But what, or perhaps who could it be?

It was a few days later that I had the answer. We have been deeply concerned to hear of the trial through which a godly friend has been going through. How could God have allowed such an injustice and seemingly unnecessary suffering to our lovely friend?

God allowed my memory to carry me back to the scene in the temple of God’s holiness, where he had been watching so tenderly over the masterpiece on which he was working. Lovingly he assured me that our friend was in his sight and in his care and that he would only allow that which he could turn to good in her walk with her Saviour.

Wonderful Lord. Help us to trust you in the hardest circumstances and to praise you, even when we cannot understand.

U-Room, D-Day

 The year was 1981 and now, more than thirty years later I am recalling the sweet words of my husband to be, for it was the date of our wedding. Just turned fifty, I had thought marriage had passed me by. How thankful I was that I had not had to wait to be married to find contentment. But now, after a good and fruitful first marriage with his Betty while I fulfilled my calling as ‘the Little Children’s Mother’  first in the highlands of New Guinea and then in Ghana, after

Betty’s sudden and totally unexpected death, Joel and I had been led very clearly to this very different D Day.

‘D for Delight.’ It was. For eight years I was privileged to minister with Joel as a pastor’s wife, then after we settled into retirement in Porthcawl gradually opportunities opened for me in the schools. It was then that God called me to write and Joel and I worked together  to organise the annual South Wales Christian Writers Days.

Joel was great at suggestions and happy for me to do the organising. But now I was learning that special gift of delegating. ‘Godliness with contentment’ was no problem, for I had learned   that lesson after a broken heart When Joel did not recover from the viral infection which had attacked us both it left me bereft but with a full diary of commitments.

The day he died I had taken an early assembly and happily booked in for another in a month’s time. I knew this was a commitment I must keep. Then wonderfully a door opened for  me to train to teach ‘Walk through the Bible.’ While God never told me not to cry, as tears are all part of the healing but now, all too soon it seemed, I was coming up to ninety. By I could no longer drive but God was not speaking to me about retiring. Then very gently, for me, came LOCK DOWN. The decision was made for me

Long, quiet days shut in my Eagle’s Nest for uninterrupted writing. Yes, of course I missed my wonderful husband but it was when I was living above the clouds in the mountains of New Guinea that my heart was broken by my Prince Charming that I had been challenged to speak out the promises of God. I dared to speak out – ‘I am delighting myself in the Lord and he is giving me the desires of my heart.’

 God cannot deny his own word. How I needed to speak this out now – and yes, I still do, and still he is giving me the desires of my heart.

A totally unexpected heart attack and cardiac arrest had prepared me, so I thought for heaven, and I was happy to move from my independent living in my ‘Eagle’s Nest,’ and I was welcomed into Pinehurst, where Joel and I used to go in to take a service many years before and then the Ladies of ‘Grace’ had carried on to visit regularly.

I no longer have the privilege of being an invited visitor and have to earn the right to speak into situations. I find now God is giving me the privilege to write someone a special birthday blessing, and though it is sometimes a struggle to tackle the computer again and it would be easier to join the ‘nodders’ who sit in the lounge and doze, I am so very thankful for those who refuse to let me rust away and who are always available, making sure that I have a lift to church or the help I need to sort out my problems on the computer.

Well, we may not have special dates to help us remember or may even waiting for those longed for dates to recall, but we have the same wonderful God who loves us and is planning for us in love. Let’s say with King David, ‘This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.’(Psalm 118:24)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MIRACLES

Our Pete, has printed out for us an inspiring account of the miracles he has experienced in his life. This got me to wondering. I have had a long and yes, an exciting life, but miracles? There must have been some, and yet?

You may not think of them as miracles and yet I know it is only through divine intervention that I am here, 92 years old and still being published to bless others. Isn’t that miraculous, that I was able to hear and know it was God’s voice calling me to write and giving me a husband who was also into writing and who encouraged me all the way?

I remember the time, years before, when my pastor told me I must give up all thought of being a missionary because I did not have the health. My colleagues who welcomed me onto the remote mission field in the highlands of Papua New Guinea shared his opinion. ‘Give her a few months,’ they had forecast, but I outstayed many of them, and though eventually circumstances forced me to leave, it was to gain further qualification before joining another team in Ghana, Africa, to do the work God had shown me in my early days in Papua New Guinea.

Then there was my wonderful years working with Joel, the miracle of timing that had brought me into  Wales at the time when his lovely Betty had died, so unexpectantly to others but not to God. How God had given me the gift of contentment in my singleness, so that I could be ‘the little children’s mother’ as they has called me, in both Papua New Guinea and Ghana, and now the wife that Joel needed coming up to retirement and on.

Happy, fruitful years. I could write a book.

‘Wings of the Morning,’ was with a publisher when Joel died, and so did the editor who had promised to bring my life story to birth, but as I learned after more than twenty wonderful years of married bliss that this was not the end of my life story, and there were more chapters to be written before my life story was eventually published, with
Bas Evans wonderful painting of an eagle in flight adorning the cover. I believe it is still available to purchase from Amazon, but I no longer have copies available to give away.

At the great age of ninety two,  my siblings, who both made it to university having suffered from dementia before their death I am now pronounced of a sound mind and enjoy keeping in touch with my friends through this blog and still in receipt of the occasional cheque from the publishers of ‘The Upper Room.’

No, I make no claim to miracles, but I do give all the glory to the faithfulness of our God, who ‘so loved the world that he gave his only Son’ that if I would believe in him, would not perish but enjoy life both now and in eternity.

And it is surely God himself who made a way for me receive wonderful nursing care in a care home where Joel and I used to come to take a service so many years ago, and also the love and care of Grace community church who make sure that someone will be sure to transport me to get well fed spiritually and continue to be a well loved member of their community.

Maybe not miracles – but pretty close I would say, and something to talk or write about and give glory to God.

 

  

A Time to Die

Yes, but it had seemed such a convenient time for  me to die. There I was already in hospital and likely to be in need of far more care than I already had.

But here I was, celebrating my nineties, with such thankfulness that God had not
answered my knocking so hard on heaven’s door.

When I was eighty I had carefully selected those who had been of special significance in my life, but now it was a different story. The facilities of The Rest were sadly no longer available, and my financial position was very different since God had wonderfully provided for me to have the nursing care I now needed.

Joel and I used to visit there to take a service, and after his death I was delighted when the ladies of Grace took over this ministry. And so now I have a loving caring family, and have taken on the self-appointed position of birthday poem writer.

Two days before I had been writing a birthday poem for a special twenty year old and then, realising no one was likely to write one  (I was wrong) that I needed to write one for me.

So with deep gratitude to all those who are giving me joy in living in so many ways, and very especially to our wonderful Hyelim who has given me the desire of my heart in letting me hear my favourite hymn sung before my funeral, and who knows but Jesus may have come to surprise us all.

 

NINETY AND STILL CLIMBING

Not yet, not yet to reach God’s mountain peak

Still heights to challenge on His chosen way

Not ours to choose our time for reaching home

So  let’s  cheer each other  in God’s  Pilgrim Way

 

He’s giving us fresh garments to put on

And songs of praise to sound our joy abroad

New strength when ours seems almost gone

Join with God’s church to welcome others home

 

Thank God for every birthday we have passed

And those who walk with us this Pilgrim  way

Reaching old age with all his promises

We’ll joyful know his blessings day by day

                        Pauline Lewis

 

 

WELCOME TO GOD’S TABLE

 I always have a blessing when I come to church, even though I often struggle to remember the message as I am no longer able to take notes to help me to recall what I have heard. I have to wait for Tuesday to arrive when we discuss Sunday’s message. Then it all comes back to me and I am hopefully able to join in the applying of it to our lives.

Not only do I have difficulty in taking notes, but I struggle to make good use of my hearing aid, so my heart leapt when I saw the child-sized table and chairs set out for a party. So - who was to be invited?. Our Laura excels at getting the children involved, and hopefully I too would understand.

We soon had a proud volunteer as the king, while his two equally confident little sisters followed as queen and princess. Then who else should be invited? The Prime minister? Some discussion here. Then, to my surprise, the very busy caring lady beside me rose suddenly, called to represent the people we can’t do without.

Only one more seat to go. Amid much hilarity, a long legged lecturer from the Bible college rose and squeezed himself onto the remaining chair. Failing to hear Laura’s application, I wondered whether it had been open to any of us? Obviously they would not have offered me the privilege. I couldn’t have clambered up the two steps  to the platform, and yet….there were plenty who would have helped me.

I don’t remember what Laura’s application was, but I know what God’s lesson is to me, and that is that none of us are excluded. We are all of us invited. So let’s not wait for someone more important than ourselves to pray or volunteer. No one can be more greatly loved than you are, because ‘He loves us all the best’.

Thank you Laura, for that lesson for a very old lady as well as the very little ones too. So no more excuses. We are all chosen and special. Then let us run, or even limp to take our place at God’s table.            

 

Memories Wakened

 

Few of us in Grace knew Delora Morris in her prime. To us she was one of ‘the old originals’ who had been a members of Hope Chapel, but I am one of the few privileged to have known her in her prime.

Like myself she was married to a minister and when we first came to live in Porthcawl I became involved with Delora who was leading the Women’s World Day of  Prayer. Though she was a Welsh speaker herself, ‘Delora worked hard to get the Welsh to unite with us foreign English on that special day. I admired her for that.

I always knew where Delora lived because of the name of their home. It was ‘Cana’r
aderyn.’ (Sing like the birds)

It was one of her uncles I believe who wrote this beautiful Welsh hymn. When Joel and I were invited to preach in some of the many Welsh chapels now without ministers I would sing this as a solo, and they would lustily join in the chorus.

Our husbands were both theologians and enjoyed many a discussion.’ He became affectionately known by fellow Christians as ‘Rightly dividing the word of truth.’ We became widows around the same time and did our best to support each other, but while Delora had her house crowded out with bardic chairs won by her grandfather, and other members of her family, God was helping me to declutter and leading me into new ministries. Several years her senior, Delora was talking about retirement homes long before I thought of such a thing and even now, believe I am here on a mission. But our hearts were in the same place and our treasure hid in heaven.

I am so sorry that I was unable to attend the funeral of this special lady, and my friend. She had taken me to visit her mother shortly before she died. She was finding it so hard to cope with the thought of parting with this lovely woman who previously would had been such a strength in her life and when I heard so many tributes of the godly life she had lived I longed to bring my own thanksgiving for this, another godly woman who, together with her husband had dedicated her life to live for God, and after going through Bible college together went straight into the ministry.

I remember her reminiscing with Laura, our busy Pastor’s wife of her days as a young pastor’s wife.

A programme I enjoy is ‘Homes under the Hammer.’ Like many others I think her house, cluttered with memories will have to be stripped bare but I do   hope the  inspiration of its name will remain.

 

May we, like Delora, ‘sing for the glory of heaven

                                    Like a sunbeam has swept over my heart;'

Healing by the sea

One of the blessings of moving into a care home was to be living within reach of a walk by the sea. Convalescing after a cataract operation, I seemed to have lost my ability to hear God’s voice. Had I lost my ability to commune with him?

I thought of how Jesus had walked the shores of Galilee and how I too as a young woman had shared the joy of his first disciples who had answered his call to follow him. But now after years of joyful discipleship I felt I had nothing to offer him.

Then, wonderfully, melting in our unusual heat wave, I was advised to rise before breakfast to come for my walk by the sea. There, resting on a bench I was aware of Jesus’ sitting beside me, demanding nothing, just enjoying my presence, and happy that I had come to meet with him.

‘Jesus, I am resting, resting in the joy of what thou art. I am finding out the greatness of thy loving heart.’ My time of the desert was over!

I have longed to put into verse my own wonderful blessing of sitting beside my Saviour in my weakness on the shore, not of Galilee, but of Porthcawl.

I hope this may bring assurance to each of us who may also have times when they need God’s own personal ministry.

 Oh Christ who walked by Galilee

 Have come to walk this shore with me

 And you who called those young and brave

 Call us afresh though old and frail

 Lord, though oftimes I fail to hear

 And know that you are always near

 You never leave us or forsake

And you who called me when so young

Like those you called by Galilee

Are with me here , another shore –

Porthcawl indeed, not Galilee

But near and dear, yes all we need

Come, rest with us each beside the sea.’

I am struggling to share this, to me, very special experience, but pray we may all know his love afresh, whatever our circumstances.