I’ve said it before, but I’m saying it again – I am so grateful for the opportunities the Lord has given our family in Oklahoma! Lauren had her first band concert today with the Texhoma Homeschool Bands! Lauren took trumpet lessons for a year, beginning last year, and we have been with the homeschool band since August. She is loving it. She is playing my dad’s trumpet, which he played in high school. He earned a scholarship to college with his ability. Lauren hasn’t quite reached that level, but she is working hard. I have to admit, hearing her play made me misty-eyed. I wish Dad could have been there.

Here are the videos of her performance for our loved ones far away, and anyone else who might be interested. 🙂

I forgot to press the “HD” button, so they are a tad blurry, but the main thing is the sound, and that came through well.


(This one’s my favorite!)

They played at a very nice nursing home in town, and the residents were so sweet to come down the hall and have a listen. Thank you for joining us for this “virtual concert”! 🙂

With love,

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October is “Pastor Appreciation Month”, or so I’ve seen all over Facebook. It’s really sweet of people to appreciate their pastor. It is a hard job with unique responsibilities.

But it isn’t that hard.

I mean, really, pastoring takes the same level of devotion and commitment to the Lord that being a Christian layman does. It is hard standing for the truth against opposition in the church, or opposition in the work place. A pastor has to show up at a set time and work hard, just like the Christian layman. It’s a job. If you think I’m demeaning the position, I don’t mean to. I happen to be very thankful for my amazing pastor and I respect him more than anyone else. But since I’m married to him, and since I am the daughter of an amazing Christian layman, I have both perspectives.

The reason pastoring seems so difficult might be because of expectations. Pastors sometimes expect Christians to be dressed in choir robes with shining halos over their heads. But, that’s not accurate. Church members are the same as pastors – robed in flesh, not satin. Pastors struggle against the flesh every day. They fight laziness and selfishness; they fight lust and greed; they war against gluttony and anger. Yep, every one of them fights against sin, just like the rest of us!

Don’t get me wrong, it takes a special calling of the Lord to shepherd a congregation. But I don’t think it’s worth having a whole month of appreciation. Serving God is not about how much praise we can get (pastor or layman). It’s not about being “appreciated”, it’s about appreciating the gift of Salvation. It’s about serving the One Who died for us – Christ the Lord!

It’s about Him, not us.

I am blessed with an amazing church. In fact, at Bethel Baptist Church, we have “Pastor Appreciation” each and every week. It’s called “pay day”. What a blessing to serve such gracious and generous people! Their generosity enables my husband to make a living by preaching the Gospel. So, I propose a switch! Let’s make October “Christian Appreciation Month”, giving thanks for God’s people who faithfully serve in good times and bad.

Whether you serve the Lord as a pastor or a faithful member, may God richly bless you – in October, and every other month, too!

I appreciate you.

With love,

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theological-term-of-the-week

This week’s term:

Sabellianism – The teaching of Sabellius. He taught that the Trinity of the Godhead was not, in fact, three persons, but merely three manifestations of God, that is, as one man is a brother, a father, and a son. Also known as “modalism”. 

Last week’s term:

Gnosticism – The teaching of the Gnostics. They taught God was utterly remote from the material creation, and that He ruled intermediately through other beings (gods) who diminished in dignity according to their nearness to the world of created matter.

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Me&Leah2

And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. ~ 1 Samuel 18:1

On October 9, my very first best friend died. Just like that, she has gone into eternity. We met when were three years old in Sunday school at Hot Springs Baptist Temple in Hot Springs, Arkansas. My mother was our teacher. Mother has often recounted over the years how surprised she was at the bond Leah and I forged at such a young age. She would refer to the passage above, remarking that Leah and I were like David and Jonathan, our hearts were “knit”. When I was five years old, we changed church membership. When I was seven, we moved from Hot Springs, and with that move, Leah and I were separated.

Even though we drifted apart so many years ago, I can still recall with clarity many of our conversations. I remember our sleepovers, the gift I brought her from our trip to Six Flags over Texas, and the time she dressed up as a mummy (wrapped in toilet paper) to a Halloween themed birthday party. I remember church dinners and activities where we sat together. I remember her laugh and the way she sucked her thumb. I remember what a comfort it was to know that she would be starting school with me, I wouldn’t be alone! We weren’t allowed to sit by each other in school because the teacher said something about us talking too much. But we enjoyed recess together and lunch time!

What I remember most was that I didn’t have to work to gain Leah’s approval, nor she, mine. We instantly accepted one another just as we were. I didn’t worry about offending her. I didn’t fret over whether or not she liked me – she did, and I knew it. It was the purest and sweetest friendship I had in my childhood. I’m sure we would have had disagreements over things if had we grown up together, but I know it wouldn’t have lasted very long.

I just can’t wrap my brain completely around the fact that she is gone. I suppose in the back of my mind I imagined that we would one day cross paths and we would pick up where we left off.

Leah gave me the greatest gift on Earth: she gave me herself. She showed me early on that life is full of beautiful people and you know what?

You don’t have to look very far to find them.

Me&Leah3

I remember Leah. . .and I miss her.

With love,

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theological-term-of-the-week

This week’s term:

Gnosticism – The teaching of the Gnostics. They taught God was utterly remote from the material creation, and that He ruled intermediately through other beings (gods) who diminished in dignity according to their nearness to the world of created matter.

Review time!

Here’s last week’s term:

Arianism – The teaching of Arius (A.D. 250-336) denying that Jesus Christ was co-eternal, co-equal, and co-essential with God. Many other doctrines are affected by this.

Now, let’s try to use these in a sentence. 😉

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theological-term-of-the-week

Last week’s term: Pantheism – The denial of the personality of God. The belief that God and the universe are synonymous, as opposed to God being a personality.

This week’s term: Arianism -The teaching of Arius (AD 250-336) denying that Jesus Christ was co-eternal, co-equal, and co-essential with God. Many other doctrines are affected by this. (This is the belief of Jehovah’s Witnesses.)

Thanks for reading,

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One of the many benefits of homeschooling is that I get to teach, or rather, grade, Home Ec. Lauren is doing basic cooking and baking this semester, and we’ve all enjoyed tasting her efforts. Several months ago, I found this recipe in the coupon section of the Sunday paper. It sounded good so I bought a mini muffin pan just to make these. And then I never made them. When Lauren started Home Ec., I remembered this recipe and thought she should give it a try. As you can see in the photo, we also experimented with blueberry filling, but we preferred the cherry more than the blueberry.

Ingredients:

Crust:
1 cup butter, softened
1 (8 oz.) package cream cheese
1 3/4 cups all purpose flour
1/4 cup finely chopped pecans

Filling:
1 (21 oz.) can cherry pie filling

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine crust ingredients in a large bowl. Beat at medium-high speed until mixture is creamy (1-2 minutes). Wrap dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for one hour.

Form dough into 1 inch balls and place in mini muffin tins. Using your finger dusted in flour, press dough into bottom and sides of tins. Fill each mini pie with about 1 tablespoon of pie filling. Bake uncovered for 18-20 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool completely before serving. If desired, top each mini pie with a pecan half for garnish just before serving.

I must warn you, they are small so there is a huge desire to eat several at one sitting! 🙂

Enjoy!

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theological-term-of-the-week

Last week’s term:

Hylozoism – the doctrine that all matter is endued with life. This doctrine is friendly to Materialism, and is the philosophical companion to Hinduism.

This week’s term:

Pantheism – The denial of the personality of God. The belief that God and the universe are synonymous, as opposed to God being a personality.

Thanks for reading,

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partners

It was a hot July day in Kansas, a hotter one in Arkansas. My dad had been working on a doghouse for our dog, Libby. This would be his last act on Earth. You see, my parents were taking care of Libby for us since we had just moved from a three bedroom, single bathroom home with a fenced yard in Topeka, Kansas, to a duplex in the ghetto of Lawrence, Kansas, which did not allow pets.

On July 28, 2004, while Dad was slaving in the backyard in Arkansas, I was at my home in Kansas caring for my two children. Terry was working at Amarr Garage Door factory. My mother called around 1:00 to tell me that Dad had been taken to the Heart hospital in Little Rock for surgery for an aortic aneurysm. She was talking quickly while eating, something that struck me as odd, knowing how proper her manners are, but at the time, it did not cause alarm. I was twenty-six years old. I was alone that day, except for my four year old daughter and my one year old son, both of whom were napping. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Someone else was silently, powerfully standing by, preparing to lead me gently through the greatest tragedy of my young life. Our dial-up internet was so slow, and searching for things online was so new, that I never considered looking up an aortic aneurysm on the web. I see now that that was the first gift that my Father gave me that day, the gift of ignorance. This gift kept me from panicking. I didn’t think an aneurysm was anything that serious. I knew Dad had a history of heart trouble in his family, but I still was not worried.

I cannot tell you what I did that afternoon. I don’t remember if I called Terry, or if I fretted a lot. I do regret not trying to talk to Dad in the hospital. I suppose the ignorance, and the complete confidence that I would speak to him soon, kept me from having that thought.

Mom called us to say that the surgery was just beginning around 6 PM, and she did not seem worried. Terry and I went to church.

When we got home from church, I got a call from Mom. Dad had made it through the surgery, but things were not good. The doctors could not get Dad’s blood to clot. It was at that moment that I began to feel fear. Tears came in a mighty torrent. I went to our dingy bathroom, closed the door, and bowed at the bathtub begging God to “please let my dad’s blood to clot!” Over and over I said these words.

Somehow, I got to bed. Around 2, or maybe 4 o’clock in the morning, my father-in-law called. Terry answered.  I don’t know Terry Sr.’s exact words to my husband, but when my Terry hung up the phone, he said to me quietly in the dim light of my bedside lamp, “He’s gone.”

For many years I felt guilt over the fact that Dad died right after working so hard out in the heat for my dog. I felt guilt over not being there, not getting to say goodbye, not getting to hold his hand as he stepped from this muddy beach onto that golden shore. In fact, in the months to come, guilt would be a close friend, second only to the oceans of grief that swept over me. 

Back then, I felt responsible for Dad’s death. I didn’t fully grasp the fact that God is sovereign. What does this mean? It means that God is in control. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault that Dad died. He didn’t die because he didn’t get to the hospital on time, or because he’d been out in the heat working on a doghouse. He died because God said that Ron Courtney should come home. Dad left this earth at the precise moment in which God decreed that he should, and not a minute too soon or too late. It was right on time.

Many people want to declare that God is sovereign over some things, usually the things that we say are out of our control. But the truth is, He is sovereign over all things. And if you don’t believe He is sovereign, that’s okay, He is sovereign anyway.

The sovereignty of God has been a comfort to me whenever guilt comes knocking, as it still sometimes does. I don’t have to answer the door and entertain it. I simply call out, “The Lord handles all my guilt. He owns my life.”

God is sovereign over the heartaches that come our way, and He is sovereign over the blessings. We can rejoice in all things because He is in all things.

With love,

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5127J5CDA4L._SX325_BO1,204,203,200_A few weeks ago, a lady at our church who is fellow book-lover, loaned me a missionary story called To the Golden Shore. “I think you’ll like it,” she said, and she was right. I wanted to share it with you, and encourage you to read this wonderful book about Adoniram Judson.

I must say that I was a bit overwhelmed when I saw that it was 500 pages long. I had read about Adoniram Judson a little beforehand, so I knew he had a hard life. I am affected deeply by words, and I was concerned that I would be in an emotional downswing due to living the life of Adoniram Judson vicariously through the printed page. But, I put aside my fears and dove headfirst into the summer of 1788 in Massachusetts and met the Judson family as they welcomed their firstborn child, Adoniram, Jr. I traveled across the ocean to England and back to Salem, Massachusetts, then on to India and Burma, (back and forth many times), I visited prison, suffered losses of loved ones and ached through much illness, and then, finally, I walked to the dock to wave goodbye to Mr. Judson as he stepped onto that blessed Golden Shore. With the last page of this book, I felt a greater longing than ever before to do a good work for my Lord. On the contrary, rather than suffering an emotional downswing, I felt more thrilled than ever at the prospect of meeting the One Who died for me in that pristine land.

Mr. Courtney Anderson (and what a great first name he has!) did an excellent job of removing “some of the grimy crust of time, and revealing, at least a little, the bright features underneath.” He wrote about Judson, his family and friends; and led us across continents with ease. His descriptions were enough to make you feel everything that the Judsons felt, whether physical or emotional. I couldn’t wait to keep going, to see what would happen next! And the best part? It’s all true. I personally enjoyed the early-American historical tidbits at the beginning, which gave the book a firm and familiar start. The pilgrims, Squanto, Nathaniel Bowditch, and John Adams are all mentioned, and I relished each reference.

I was particularly moved by the following passage, taken from Ann Hasseltine Judson’s journal, regarding her husband’s and her own decision to be baptized by immersion, thereby abandoning the Congregationalist faith (in which they were brought up), and moving to the Baptist faith (in which they knew no one):

Thus, we are confirmed Baptists, not because we wanted to be, but because the truth compelled us to be. We have endeavored to count the cost, and be prepared for the many severe trials resulting from this change of sentiment. We anticipate the loss of reputation, and of the affection and and esteem of many of our American friends. . . We feel that we are alone in the world, with no real friend but each other, no one on whom we can depend but God. [page 146]

I can – in a very small measure – understand what Ann is saying here. I too, have been compelled by truth to have a change in sentiment. I have feared the loss of friends and loved ones. I have lost what bit of “reputation” I had, as several friends have written to say just how ashamed they are of our decision to adhere to the Doctrines of Grace. In the beginning, I felt that I no friend but Terry, and that only God was with us as we labored in ministry. But, as Ann discovers in her journey with Christ, I, too, have learned that Christ is enough. I’ve learned that where there is one believer, there will be others. I’ve learned that I have not disappointed everyone I know, just as Ann and Adoniram hadn’t either. In fact, when Adoniram Judson, Sr. was 67 years old, he too, became a Baptist, resigning his pastorate in Plymouth to do so. It is true that when one person stands for what is right according to Scripture, others will follow.

Judson labored tirelessly, in sickness, despair, loneliness, and poverty, to share the Gospel, but went no further than simply sharing Christ with others. He told them to “Pray to God for light. If you receive light, you will be able at once to distinguish between truth and falsehood.” [page 279] There was no mention of his leading anyone in prayers or asking for a show of hands after a sermon. Christ was, and is, enough.

In several chapters, most notably the one entitled, “Give us a Writing”, we see how Adoniram suffered with depression, feeling that the trials he endured were punishment from God for his selfish and prideful behavior. He would climb out of that pit by the Savior’s helping hand, only to fall back again later. I was encouraged that if a great man such as Adoniram Judson could be depressed, then anyone can. And like Judson learned, Christ is the answer to relieve us of that burden.

Adoniram Judson did not approve of temporary missionary trips, where one would only serve in a country for a limited time. He said, “The motto of every missionary, whether preacher, printer, or schoolmaster, ought to be ‘Devoted for life.’ [page 409]

Also, here is an encouraging little couplet:

Beware of desperate steps; the darkest day,
(Live till tomorrow) will have passed away. [page 481]

These are just a few highlights from this moving book. I don’t see how any Christian can read it, even if you’ve read other books about Adoniram Judson, and not be inspired by his faith in the very same God that we have the privilege to serve today. What a thought! This book exclaims, “Christ is Lord of all!” from beginning to end.

With love,

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