Have a Biscuit

Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates. -Proverbs 31:31


I made biscuits for breakfast this morning.

I have to say that I have just about got it down. Maybe it's that dash of sugar. Or maybe the amount of milk, making the moisture of the dough just right.

Still there is something lacking.

I have often said that one of the things I miss most about Ms. Joycie are her biscuits. The best in the known universe. And it's not just me. Anyone who has ever enjoyed one of those biscuits will tell you the same thing (can I get a witness up in hyere?).

I've also said that one of the reasons God called her home was so she could make biscuits for Him!

Hmmm. So I may have figured out two of the twelve manner of fruits found on the tree of life (Revelation 22:2). Chocolate, of course. And now, Ms. Joycies biscuits!

But the point of this is, I think I have also figured out what made her biscuits so awesome.

Love.

I know it's a cliché that the special ingredient in this, that, or the other thing is love. Hear me out.

The Song of Solomon speaks of the joys of the marriage bed, where a man and a woman bring a dedication, a desire, a love into the relationship.

Proverbs 31 also speaks of the love a godly woman brings to her home and all who live there or visit there. Each verse from v. 10 through v.31 speaks of this love in all its various aspects.

Love seems almost to emanate from the pores of such a woman. So that when she makes biscuits, for example, this love passes from her fingertips and into the texture and substance of the dough.

Oh my!

Uh, pass me a biscuit, will ya?

Why Are You Always Running in Place?

Your hair is in my face, and laughter's in your eyes
And as the memory fades, all that's left is to cry  -Sandy Tolar


I thought my job was to be the strong one. I thought I was pretty good at it, too.

Very strange to realize how much you depended on the one who depended so much on you.

When someone is such a huge part of your life, I guess the tendency is to focus on that. If you're not careful, to focus on that exclusively.

The thing is, there's a great deal of pleasure to be had in dwelling on the good stuff. It's more than gratitude, though there is that.

Maybe it's a forgetfulness of other things that call for your attention. Maybe some of them not so pleasant, but which must nonetheless be attended to.

So when the prop is knocked out from under you, so to speak, there is a necessary redirection or re-ordering of your priorities.

This is good in that (a) it fills the empty place left by loss and (b) it allows you to consider what may have been previously neglected.

To be granted a "re-do," sort of.

It is refreshing to observe the blessings in vocation, to set aside discontentment and see instead the good. Where in the past, I was so jealous of my time, to now have "all the time in the world."

How selfish it is to desire only the good things God has given us and not want to give of ourselves. That time I so zealously guarded to my own ends I may now share outside the walls of my home.

Aren't idols found in the strangest places in our hearts?

Isn't God so merciful to allow His children second (and third?) chances to get it right?

What next I wonder?

I Met Her in Church

She looked at me with eyes of love as the choir sang Hallelujah....
-The Box Tops


I lay in bed, on the near border of Sleepytown, and an image flashed in my mind.

I stood in the aisle at Grace Pres. next to my accustomed pew and glanced over to see my wife, sitting in her accustomed place. She was looking very beautiful in a long black dress, you know, the one with the flower print, and she looked up at me with that little smirky-smile that she had, you know, the one that said, "Come sit next to me and we'll share secrets and enjoy one another's company for a bit."

These brief glances of an image can be quite detailed, it seems.

What a wonderful God we know and love and serve, who can create minds able to store and recall (even at the oddest moments)
memories of amazing intricacy, intimacy and precision.

Who created us for relationships and sent to us people to fill our lives, to bless us and be blessed by us.

Who called us into the ultimate relationship, with Himself, and invites to see these others as He sees them, through eyes of love.

The fact of the matter is, I met my wife someplace other than in church. But I can never ever doubt that the Lord sent her to me just as surely as if we had met in Sunday School.

I thank God for bringing us to the point of cherishing and appreciating each other. And I can say to my Lord as I once said to her:

"Thanks for the dance."