EDITOR'SNOTE BY M ICHELLE GRANADO not build in vain. Psalm 127:1 says "unless the LORD build the house, they labor in vain who build. Unless the LORD guard the city, in vain does the guard keep watch." How many are required to build community? Is it the sole responsibility of the elders, the pastors, the deacons? No; our community is the Temple of God and every one of us as believer is an essential part of that community, that temple.
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s human beings, we were made for community. From Genesis to Revelation, God works in and with a community.
In community, we form relationships. In fact, we cannot fulfill the commandment to love one another as Christ loved us without community. God started with Adam and Eve and built a family? a community was not perfect, yet it was ordained by God. When this community decided to build together, but without God as they did with the Tower of Babel, it was separated. This is what the world looks like now? an attempt to minimize what God has ordained, but without God. It attempts to project love, but without God, who himself is love. Any attempt at building community without God is hollow. Community requires love. What does community look like in the Church, the body of Christ? Well, it does not look like a bunch of people attending service in the same building, who do not know or like each other. Building community is more than tolerance. A foundation of community is commonality; a community is something we have in common. What we have in common as the body of Christ is Jesus Christ himself ? we have all needed a savior and found one in our Lord. We have the foundational belief that the Bible is the word of God and Truth. We have in common that our Lord has taught us in this book that we must not be hearers of this Word only, but doers also. If the Word of God is our guide and if the Lord Jesus is our template, then we build in and through Him. This way, we do
Peter says it like this: "as you come to him, the living stone? rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him. You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ." (1 Peter 2:5) If we are stones in the temple of God, and one of us is missing, do we not leave a gaping hole? Therefore our participation first in the body of Christ is necessary for the community as a whole. Each of us is an important and necessary part of God's temple. But we have to be present in order to participate. We cannot just build for ourselves and by ourselves. Someone else needs us. They need our friendships, they need our encouragement, and our fellowship. If this is needed in the church, how much more is needed in the world? Many Christians have withdrawn from the greater community around us out of fear, out of disgust, withdrawing into our cocoons of peace, quiet, and perfection. Yet Jesus in Mark 16:15 gave us the Great Commission to go into all the world and make disciples. If we are not strong as the body of Christ in the temple of God, we will not feel equipped to go. And we cannot and will not be strong unless the whole body participates. We so often talk about the negative things we see around us in our communities, but what are we doing to turn things around? What kind of positive, God-impact are we leaving in our community? Are you ready to ask God to show you an opportunity to leave a legacy for Him, and good in your community? And are you ready to join with Him to bring it to pass?
OCTOBER
IN THIS ISSUE
PERSONAL REFLECTION
Reapin g in Du e Season
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by Brittany Pannapacker
REFLECTION Vict or y Gar den s
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by Donna Barr
PERSONAL TESTIMONY M y Har vest
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by Sandy McClaury
LIFESTYLE To S.P.L.A.T. or n ot t o S.P.L.A.T.
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by Kim G.
A Woman?s Heart and Soul Magazine Pro31Media LLC Designer: Danya Granado Copyright Š 2017 by Pro31Media All rights to articles reserved by the author of the article. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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BY BRI TTAN Y PAN N APACK ER
5 Have you ever felt yourself growing weary in your current circumstances and wondered when the time will come when you will reap the fruit of your labor? When the hard times come, it's easy to grow discouraged and lose strength to press on when it seems there is no end in sight. Oftentimes it feels like we've planted our "crop" and we've been waiting, what seems like forever, to see some sign of growth. Maybe storms have come and impacted your "crop" and you've had to continually start over. Sometimes life's trials knock us down and it's difficult to rise up once again after feeling so weak, but the strength of our "roots" will lead to a successful crop that can stand against life's storms. Even through the worst of circumstances that we encounter we can rely on God as our source. He is our stronghold in times of despair, and when the storm has passed we will see He was growing us all along. Sometimes we overlook God's blessing of harvest in our lives because we are looking in the wrong places. I have found when God helps me overcome a trial I find it easy to praise and thank Him, but as time goes on I quickly forget all He has done. I focus more on my present circumstances and question where He is now, instead of remembering all the ways He has worked in the past. I fail to remember that He was always working for my best and I easily get discouraged that this time maybe He's not looking out for me and has forgotten me. God never forgets us. We're never put on hold or rejected by Him, and what we've done for Him will certainly never go unnoticed. Sometimes the deep wounds on our hearts seem like they are only ours to bear, but God never said we were in it alone. It is often doing the right thing that leads us down the hardest roads full of pain and suffering. It is during these times that we grow weary in following after God and struggle to trust Him when the world so easily entraps us with temptations of worry, doubt and things we think will satisfy the longing on our hearts (Galatians 6:9). I love how Psalm 1:1-3 states that those who delight in God will be blessed and will yield fruit in due season. God's perfect timing doesn't always make sense to us, but He's always working in our lives. We all have unique seasons of our life to grow in. Some may feel like seasons of waiting, discouragement, silence and frustration, but through each season we can learn something. Nothing we go through is wasted time. Just as God has times to strengthen and grow us, He too will
SOMETIMESWE OVERLOOKGOD'S BLESSINGOF HARVESTINOUR LIVESBECAUSE WEARELOOKING INTHEWRONG PLACES bless us and provide us with blessings of harvest. I have found that following after God brings so much more long-lasting satisfaction than living for myself. Looking back over the past 24 years of my life I can see that there were things I desired, but God had different plans. Although it led to a harder and more painful life, I can see that He had purpose for each circumstance I went through. Our suffering, hard work and determination may feel like it's being overlooked, but God sees every heartbreak and tear we cry. He has been by our side through it all and everything we do for Him is worth it. The very things that felt like they were breaking our heart are the things God is using to strengthen us into amazing instruments for Him. We may not reap our harvest of obedience down here on earth, but we will be recognized for our commitment to Him. Our pain and suffering we are facing never goes unnoticed. God sees it all. He's got you right in His hand, and when you are following after Him, you are right where you need to be.
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I cried out to God and worry and fear, My mind in a tangle, my thinking unclear, Tossing and twisting as "what if's" galore Battered and clamored and beat at my door. Then God in His mercy whispered to me Of His truth and His comfort, His grand majesty. His words were so powerful yet so quietly said That they spoke to my heart and my agony fled. "Am I not able to fulfill every need? Do you not see My work?Have you not felt My lead? Have I ever abandon you, disregarded your prayers? Have My answers surprised you with wonders to share? Do I discount your trust or refuse to prevail? In times when you struggle, do I falter or fail? W hy do you doubt when I think I might not bless You're a child of my heart. Your lips praise and confess. My words and My promises are faithful and strong. Keep Me as your focus and let joy be your song. Don't be swayed by the world, by its evil and lies. For I truly am able, almighty and wise." God's truth spread a balm on my soul-troubled thoughts. My bindings were loosed. I was no longer caught. He put peace in my heart and release from the snare. God gave me His hope and removed my despair.
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BY DONNA BARR
y Dad?s hands were often calloused and stained, evidence of a strong work ethic, and of the giftedness with which he used them. As a skilled welder and instructor, he provided well for his family. The beautiful craftsmanship with which he sculpted treasures from wood repeatedly graced our homes. Common were home and auto repairs, earning him the nickname ?MacGyver ? for his resourcefulness. His hands were extensions of his heart, motivated by love, driven by standards of excellence. Hunting and fishing were favorite pastimes, and he was never without a garden. With farmers for ancestors, it was in his genes.
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?During World War II, we called them Victory Gardens,? he would say. These gardens were planted on private and public land to reduce the pressure on the public food supply brought on by the war effort. ?Sow the seeds of victory!? read one poster slogan. As my girls approach independent adulthood, I grow more aware of the seeds I am sowing. It remains to be seen how ?victorious? their father and I have been. The clock ticks louder with each passing stroke. Will they remember all we have taught them? Bong. Did we do enough? Bong. What if they make mistakes? Bong! Bong! Bong!
Silence. A still, small voice. ?Do not grow weary in doing good...?
WWII-era victory posters
The words come as a gentle, refreshing breeze as I lift my face to this familiar Love. I close my eyes as soft, resplendent light wraps me in its warm embrace. ?Breathe.? I inhale slowly, deeply as memories flow to the forefront. Togetherness. Voices
9 sharing. Smiles. Laughter. Family dinners. Occasional tears. Hugs. Prayers. Kisses goodnight. Then, seeds, as teachable moments, arise. Integrity. A good God. Obedient living. Thoughtfulness. Friendliness. Squelching gossip. Responsible study habits. Praise and encouragement. Admiring these plentiful varieties with pride, I pause as something unfamiliar captures my attention. I don?t remember planting those. Assumptions. Wasted time. Impatience. Complaining. Uncomfortable recollections slowly emerge. Repeating myself... often. Resentful rants when no one listened. Open windows. A neighbor walking by. I cringe. The weeds. They are mine. Gray clouds encroach. A chill shudders my spine. Thunder claps in the distance. I glance at the clock seemingly closer, louder. BONG!
?...For in due season you will reap....? I kneel, rubbing my hand along the ground. The once soft earth cracks, caked in the drying heat. The weeds, taking root, reach for the obscured rays while my prized flowers brown and wilt. The skies darken. Selfishness. Indifference. Sins of omission. Unexpected, enduring trials. Pain, unanswered. So many weeds. Choking my seeds. I claw frantically at their stubborn tentacles. The wind whips. As driving pellets penetrate and sting, I succumb to their attack. Lightning flashes. Thunder shakes. Cover. I need cover! The clock! What time is it?
?...If you do not give up.? - (Galatians 6:9 ESV) Mist rises as the morning sun peeks above the horizon, winking in my direction. Understanding, I smile and nod in return. Searching, I take inventory. The storm that battered my beloved garden left the soil moist, pliable. My glorious flowers stand tall, stronger, having drunk the life-giving water disguised as destruction. Seeds that had yet to appear sprout now in neat rows. Thankfulness. Grace. Forgiveness. Hope. I bend, work to be done. The weeds release easier in my grasp. I reach in my pocket, retrieving the new packet of seeds that just arrived. My youngest, given an opportunity to serve as girls?class chaplain, quickly dismissed the notion. Believing she could do it, I encouraged her to pray before reaching decisions on her own. I sprinkle the seeds and pat the soil. She accepted the challenge. Love. Joy. Peace. Songbirds carol joyously as I walk further along the weathered paths among my flourishing garden beds. Vibrant petals dance on swaying stems. I drink their sweet fragrance and return again and again.
?As you therefore have recei ved Chri st Jesus the Lord, so walk i n Hi m, rooted and bui lt up i n Hi m and establi shed i n the fai th, as you have been taught, aboundi ng i n i t wi th thank sgi vi ng.? -Colossi ans 2:6-7
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BY SAN DY M CCL AURY
elcome autumn, my favorite season of the year. Warm wind, vibrant colors, surprise snowfall. School is back in session and we?re beginning to settle in to a routine. We?ve eased out the snow boots and stored the flip-flops (within easy reach, though, this is Colorado.) This is harvest time. The period where you reap what you have sown and stockpile the fruits of your labor in preparation for winter. Except the only things I am growing around here are a remarkably forgiving philodendron, three of my offspring, and some questionable science experiments in the refrigerator. So what am I harvesting over here?
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That is a very good question. This year was a good season for socks. Typically, the heat prevents a large accumulation of socks, but not this summer. This entire year has produced a bounty of socks. Every day I find socks to gather. Much like an Easter egg hunt, except that?s the wrong season and these are socks, not eggs. Sometimes I find socks in strange places, like the aforementioned philodendron. I found a sock in the dishwasher once. The strange thing about that was not the location, necessarily, but that it was a baby sock and my youngest is seven. It?s like the missing socks from previous seasons find doorways back into my world. The dryer is obviously an exit portal. Maybe the plant or the dishwasher is the way back to your ?sole? mate? This year ?s bumper crop of craft supplies is going to be legendary, I think. The piles grow almost overnight. If we don?t tend them very carefully, they creep into all the
available spaces and then we have no place to sit. Even continuous culling hasn?t stopped the prodigious amassment of Popsicle sticks, yarn, googly eyes, felt, glue, pipe cleaners, melty beads and markers. Oh, the glitter. So. Much. Glitter. And slime! The quarry of slime we have produced this year has been so successful that we have had to use every single airtight container we own in order to hold it all. Needless to say, we?ll undoubtedly be using glitter slime to light the darkest hours of winter. Around here we?re always trying to cultivate acres and acres of laughter. Every season we try to plant the seeds of consideration and kindness. As our children grow and learn, their love is the bumper crop I am most proud of. As I hoe my rows of laundry and dishes and I plow plots of Legos and Barbie shoes, I know that what I am growing is three amazing kids who are friendly, kind and compassionate. Their laughter is the produce that feeds my soul. So I guess you could say that love is really what I am harvesting around here. And I better go water that plant.
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"A round here we?re always trying to cultivate acres and acres of laughter. Every season we try to plant the seeds of consideration and kindness."
autumn
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I
tend to focus on an area or areas of my life for an indeterminate period of time until finally I can visualize how to change it in a more positive way. For example, there might be a physical area in my home that is not functioning well. Recently, I was bothered by our lack of pantry space and the disorder and scattering of all my craft and office supplies. This past weekend I once again could not sleep which enabled my brain to storm (brainstorming session!) I had a realization of how I could finally adjust my home to enable both ample storage of my pantry items and the consolidating of my craft and office supplies. And I could do this with only a minimal cost, which my husband was thrilled with as a bonus. I got out my sketch book and began drawing it all out room by room, in as much detail as I could muster. I drew furniture placement and goals of each room for me, for the room and for the occupant(s). I then wrote
my life goals and life philosophy. It was an ?ah ha? moment for sure. (I eventually went to bed and slept a few hours with all of my realizations floating and settling in my brain.) The next morning, I made my vision known to my husband and son. Neither was too assured or confident in these changes bettering the house, especially my son as it would mean that he had to switch bedrooms, finally. (He was advised that he must change rooms a few weeks prior but, he had not done so.) All the next few days I SPLAT-ed the house. The SPLAT acronym is something that I came up with trying to put into words how my brain works. It stands for sort, purge, label, accept, tidy it. Basically, I removed everything from the small, existing pantry-cabinet, small phone-cabinet, small craft-shelves and existing large craft-cabinet. Onto the kitchen
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floor, table, counter, living room floor, couch, recliner it went. SPLAT! Wow, very enlightening of how much stuff had been accumulated. I then cleared out the food from the pantry-cabinet and tossed all of the expired foods. I put the remaining foods in the craft-cabinet. I had so much room left over in this cabinet that I was able to store all of the large kitchen equipment; the mixer, dehydrator, juicer, spiral vegetable cutter, bread maker etc. that previously lived on a side-counter and above kitchen cabinets. Not very attractive. In my SPLAT-ing I found a few long forgotten items which is a cool bonus. It's like Christmas shopping in your own home especially when finding these previously lost treasures. Much later, when our son finally came home from work, we (my husband and I) were eventually able to do the major transfer and began the rejuvenation process. Beforehand, our son had to leave the house as he does not do well with change especially when it involves him personally. (He did return the next day.) After much work rearranging and regrouping, my craft room is complete. Day three I created many long-put off projects being inspired to have all
necessary supplies in one tidy location instead of all spread throughout the house and garage. It is awesome! Why am I telling you all this? Because SPLAT-ing is the best thing ever at least for me. It enables me to recenter and decide what is most important to me. Of course I do not do it alone, God is there by my side guiding me, giving me ideas and inspirations. You too should give it a try. Call on me if you could use some help in your initial brainstorming session or in the actual S.P.L.A.T. Process. I love the power of changing. My life-philosophy is that we already have what we need, but we sometimes have to re-purpose or remove it in order to better our lives. And God, our creator, needs to be thanked for the help, guidance, strength, perseverance, insight, visualizations, vision, pathways, ups, downs of life and meeting our needs. Happy SPLAT-ing to you! Yours, Kim G.
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I look into your lifeless eyes and wonder what plan God has for you. Your chocolate brown face with eyes now stained orange, and yellowed strands of hair peaking out from a sunburnt scalp tell me something about your journey.
D O Y OU SEE M E? BY M ICHELLE GRANADO
What terrors might those eyes have seen, what death, what suffering? Your eyes grip me by the scruff of my neck, not the eyes of childhood innocence, untouched by pain....white. Rather, the color of the sand, brownish orange and dull... as if every grain of parched dry sand has ravaged you and left behind it's imprint. The color of your hair and the protruding belly tell of long periods of hunger, malnourished and empty.
A child should never have to feel the pain of hunger...but you have. When I, in affluence sit down to eat, my stomach full....consuming more. Such courage shown as you, so small, looks back into the eyes of the one looking at you through those lens, and far beyond, daring with your expressionless face to ask...
Do you see me? Do you care? I try to turn away, as I have done before, because this is hard to watch, but a question leaps into my heart. Love?Is this how we love our young? YOU ....accuse.... ME!
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