Wandering The Path

Spiritual Reflections from Debi Moses

Ouch

150 150 Debi Moses
When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.” Genesis 28:16

Just so you know, I am not a fan of shoes. You know those things you wear on your feet to keep from stepping on snakes or stickers or an occasional rock?  When my neighbors remind me that walking around barefoot in the summer is not the safest thing, my consistent response is, “I am connecting with Mother Earth and Sister Sky, and between the two, my feet are in good hands.” So of course, on this noteworthy day, it would be unthinkable for them to see me cringe as I stepped on a particular edgy stone. Some things are just better kept to yourself, except when the Holy jumps in, touches your heart and you find yourself out on a limb blabbing to the world.

It’s amazing when something like the “ouch” of a rock can cause you to catch your breath and reach into the recesses of your mind,  and trigger a  memory of a  heartfelt time of a mountain top experience that stays with you. Like a well-told Bible story, or a flash of young sons playing in the yard, or maybe just a “God tap” on the shoulder. 

This “ouch” led me back to a time when my Savior held my hand through a journey and a wake-up call, much like He did Jacob after he awoke from his nap in Bethel and said, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.”  Genesis 28:16.  Man, oh man have I been there, and it took a hike up a mountain and many conversations with God to fully rise and shine in His glory. My husband and I had gone on a weekend getaway and he was playing golf so I went looking for my “God” place, my Bethel where I could trust the Holy to bless my prayers for my sons. Where His Son would shine upon them every day so they would grow in faith and love. A place as others walked by, our young sons would soak up a stranger’s need, joy, or kindness so they could be true examples of God’s glory as they grew into men. It wasn’t an easy hike, but it was worth every breathless step to truly give them to the glory of God. In a meadow filled with blooming wildflowers and the afternoon sun shining down, I fell on my knees and gave them wholly to Him, and left.

Yep, some mother I am, just walking away and leaving the hopes and dreams for my babies with Him. Well about halfway down the mountain, and really feeling good about myself,  I changed my mind.  “Of course, I could take much better care of them than God possibly could”, so I hauled it back up the mountain, snagged two dirty rocks from among the leaves and flowers that I decided looked like them after a baseball game, stuck them back in my pocket and raced down the mountain as if God was going to grab me from behind and snatch them back.  Was I a crazy mom or what? When we returned home I placed these rocks in my flower bed and once again became in charge of their worlds. 

Years later, we moved from the home and the flower bed that held the memorial stones that had made the trip down the mountain that day, and through the years, as the flowers had grown, so had my sons. The King of all Kings had listened to my prayers on that mountaintop and honored them, He could care for them in ways I never could, He gave His life for them, I just shared mine. As I was loading my garden tools onto the moving truck, I gazed upon the beds and remembered the rocks and the trip up the mountain, the words of the mystic,  Julian of Norwich surrounded my heart, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well”. I finally got it. God is the “all” thing  I had grown to love and trust with the most precious gifts ever shared with me, and at last, I could leave them among the roses in their Father’s care.  As I trudged off with the Holy holding my hand I might have been limping a little, but I was well. He’s my Rock and my Redeemer and I pray He is yours.

Points to Ponder

1.  Have you ever felt the need to be on your knees with the Father?  Do you remember the time?

2.  Have you ever doubted God’s plans?  What made you do this?

3.  Where do you feel “All things will be well?”

Pray with Me

Dear Lord of my dreams,

I trust you with my all and all and know that you are the One who will hold my hand during “ouch” times.  I am favored to have you in my life and so thankful for others that have guided me along the way so when I fall on my knees, I know you will catch me.

Your Blessed one.

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 I hope you’ll be my walking partner as I navigate my way through a life of whimsy, grace, and a lot of love for our Savior. You can read about my adventures on this blog, Wandering the Path, or if you’d rather, join me on my podcast Wandering the Path with Debi. 
 
And remember, as my Auntie used to say, “No matter how bumpy the journey, your path has already been cleared.”

I Miss Your Smile

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“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.” Numbers 6:24-26

Okay, I’m just going to shout it from the rooftops, “I miss the laughs and giggles of my grandkids and kids.  I miss my back pew at church.  I miss my life-long friends, and since it’s true confession time, I miss my favorite coffee shop and my sugar-free vanilla latte, yet most of all, oh yes most of all, I miss your smile.”

Those simple upturned lips that signal a moment of recognition, excitement, and perhaps a fleeting memory. Your name may be a mystery to me, but you’re still part of my world.  We have passed in the aisles at the grocery store, the cleaners and perhaps even the pharmacy, but you’re no longer there.  As hard as it is to believe, I only don my lovely mask and gloves and join the world every two weeks. We might have missed each other along the way. It’s as if the world has been turned upside down, and it has. 

Yet here I am, with my life basically unchanged, sitting on the dock with my puppies gazing at the glorious sunset with a breaking heart. A breaking heart for lives that have been changed in ways I can never imagine.  Breaking for families who now have empty chairs around their table.  Breaking for the precious children of God who are living in homeless shelters or the street, hungry and falling farther and farther behind in school. Breaking for moms and dads who can no longer provide for their family because of lost jobs. Breaking for those of you who can only see your aging family members through a window. 

But in the heartbreak, there’s a time of thankfulness. Thankful for the brave men and women on the front lines, keeping us healthy, fed and safe, our world clean, and our hearts and soul healed. As I sit in awe of the gift of the sunset, my heart is joining with those of you who are kneeling in prayer, thankful you have survived another day wrapped in the Holy’s arms.

This is a time when the similarities of one’s path vary more than ever. Some of your lives may be like mine and my western loving cowboy, whose only bump on the road is rationing toilet paper, or watching the same TV shows over and over, despite having a choice of more than 300 channels. (All I have to say about that is someone in my house is a fan of the western channel.)

But through these days of confusion and emptiness, your compassion for one another is seen through the lessons we’re teaching our children as they write words of thanks to visitors who make deliveries to our homes in chalk on their walkways, or signs posted on apartment windows. Families are gathering on social media celebrating special time that might have been missed because of those trite words, “We were just too busy.” Cards and letters are being sent snail mail to forgotten ones in our lives while many are pitching in financially to share their blessings. Through all of this despair my heart is reaching out to each of you, and I feel your never-ending grace. Grace we’ve learned to grant one another through our twinkling eyes as we honor one another by wearing a simple mask or standing 6 feet apart. 

We all have our dark days, whether it’s the ones we are living now, the days that lurk in memories past, or in the times on the other side of a sunset that are yet to come. But the Lord is blessing us, His face is shining on us each day. His face is turned toward us each night, warming us with His glorious love. This is the serenity you feel when you gaze at a sunset, or perhaps as you close your eyes at the evening’s end and say, “Thank you for loving me Father.” I have peace knowing He will take care of you.  And one day I’ll see your smile again, and man oh man, my heart will sing.

Ponder with Me:

1. Do you miss anything?

2. Have you had dark days? Close your eyes and sit with the Holy.  Let His everlasting love wash over you.

3.  Do you truly believe God will take care of you? 

Let us pray together:

I love you Lord. My heart sings when I hear your name, your promises, and feel your grace.

I will never miss your smile, because it never fades away. You warm me with your spirit in the sunrises and sunsets. I am blessed to be your child.

Gazing  at your love.

NOW PODCASTING!  
ADD WANDERINGTHEPATH.ORG/PODCAST.XML TO YOU FAVORITE PODCAST APP.
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 I hope you’ll be my walking partner as I navigate my way through a life of whimsy, grace, and a lot of love for our Savior. You can read about my adventures on this blog, Wandering the Path, or if you’d rather, join me on my podcast Wandering the Path with Debi. 
 
And remember, as my Auntie used to say, “No matter how bumpy the journey, your path has already been cleared.”

Right Hand Man

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"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; 
I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my 
righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10

“Can you believe it?  The internet is down again!” I exclaimed to my husband.  “Well, you know what to do, you’re the pro, have fun!” he said with a grin as he headed out for a walk. After forty-six years of marriage, he knew the wonderful joy he would be missing as he listened to my conversation with our Internet provider.  Little did he know I had wised up and knew the two inevitable options: 1. Hold down the reset button for 10 seconds or 2. Make a call.  I didn’t want to make that call, because all they would say is, ” Have you tried resetting the box?” and when you reply in a smug voice, “I certainly have,” they’ll say, “that’s great but why don’t we try it again.” As an expert “resetter” this is extremely annoying, so I proceeded to go it alone. 

As much as I hated to admit it, after five hardheaded solo attempts, I broke down and made the call, and guess what, the connection had been down the entire time. No matter what I had tried on my own, the invention that rules my life was not ever going to connect. It took me making the move to talk to the one who could help me, the person on the 800 number, and the second option – the IT tech. Believe it or not, he actually helped me in a very unusual way. He told me I would have to wait. 

As frustrating as that was, it helped me sit in that moment, and realize everything didn’t have to be done immediately. There’s a plan and a time for me and I am not in charge. That’s a shocker, but until I grabbed hold of my helplessness, and accepted life as it is today, I would just keep walking away from the One true source that can help. 

The One who during this particular season of my life is whispering my name.  The One who was calling me to rekindle my love for the precious who hung on the cross for me.  It was time to return to the days when I began my day with my Father, had lunch with Him, and closed my eyes at night with His Holy name lingering on my lips, a time, once again, to grab His hand and walk toward Him. I knew He was my Lord and could strengthen me but perhaps instead of hitting that blinking button on my own, I needed to reach out for the Holy’s hand, and be guided into the glorious days He has planned for me.  

If I sit and listen during this Covid-19 season of confusion, just perhaps He will show me the path, the way to walk forward alongside Him so I won’t get lost wandering on my own. The lover of my soul trusts me and knows I love Him unconditionally. Maybe I don’t need a reset button this time, perhaps it’s just grabbing onto the Father’s righteous right hand. The one that held the tears He shed for His son that gave to me.  A hand that might be damp and moist, but never so slippery it won’t hold on tight to a wayward soul like me.  

As we live these days of unknowing questioning, the King of Kings is there for us, never wavering, never walking away, and never blinking, threatening to disconnect Himself from us.

There is no doubt that He is with you. He is your God, He will strengthen you, and He will always wait for you to grab on tight to his loving hand.

Points to Ponder:

1.  What surprises you in your days?

2.  How are you spending your time these days?   Do you feel God’s hand?

3.  Does your life need a “reset”?  Who can guide you?

Pray with me: 
Dear Father of Strength,
You promise me you are here for me and I trust you.  You promise me you are my God and you are. You promise me you will help me, and you do. I know You will because You love me and I am Your child.
Holding On

NOW PODCASTING!  
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 I hope you’ll be my walking partner as I navigate my way through a life of whimsy, grace, and a lot of love for our Savior. You can read about my adventures on this blog, Wandering the Path, or if you’d rather, join me on my podcast Wandering the Path with Debi. 
 
And remember, as my Auntie used to say, “No matter how bumpy the journey, your path has already been cleared.”

Red Dirt and Pine Cones

342 271 Debi Moses

“I and the Father are one.”  John 10:30

For once we were listening when God stepped in, as our lives did a flip flop, and miraculously changed lanes. Off we went in a direction that had only been on our bucket-list of “maybe someday” and in the blink of an eye, “someday” had arrived.  One that was His next step in life for us but not exactly in our current scheme of things.  The land of our childhood had been calling our names, pine trees, red dirt and sweet smell as the seasons change in our native East Texas.  A home on a lake and a move from the hectic daily life back to our country roots had been on our list for years.  We would say things like … when we move to the lake … one day we’re going to find just the right spot and move to the lake … one day we’re going to get out of this traffic and be able to go fishing whenever we want, one day… You know the drill, you might have been there, or oh “wise one” know that your “one day” is exactly where you are now and are living in “your” moment.

So, with the volume of our hearts turned up so we could hear Him loud and clear, we left the highways and the bi-ways of the big city, and went in search of “home.” You know the spot where you feel a sense of belonging way before your address is changed, or the moving van emptied. It was as if the heavens opened on a spectacular fall Sunday guiding us among the pines to our “home.” And now with the boxes unpacked, a song in my heart and snuggled into my cozy bed, a new wake-up call cleared my foggy brain. It was my new friends “the ducks” taking flight over the lake, greeting me with their morning “Hello.”  This time of day is such a treasure, real life has yet to dawn and there’s time for those pesky scattered thoughts to scurry across my muddled brain. It’s like our puppies’ new best friends the squirrels, as they chase each other among the trees. It’s that time before my daily rhythm begins and a chance to ponder life, and even squeeze in a prayer or two. As my brain cells decided to rise and shine I cherished the peace in my heart and this time and this place. The glistening sun light bouncing off the lake was calling my name.  I threw on my comfy yoga clothes, grabbed a cup of Starbucks and slowly walked down to the sun- drenched dock. I slipped my sleep deprived body into my cozy chair and let the rays of the sun hit my face and realized it was God, not the lake, calling my name.  The sun kissing my face was the Holy One shining His gracious love for me on my tired cheeks.  As I closed my eyes I felt my Savior’s love rush over me and I truly felt one with Him. I’m at peace, let the squirrels chase themselves…  All is Well with my Soul, All is well.

Pray with me:   Holy One, open my eyes and heart so I may feel one with You as I walk my days, hear Your songs in my soul, and feel Your warm kisses on my cheeks.

Living in expectations.

Points to Ponder:

  1. When are you one with the Father?
  2. Have you found your special place?
  3. Are you aware when God touches your heart? How does it feel?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loving Hands: “A Tribute to Moms”

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Hands of Love

Hand of Love

And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.” Mark 10:16

“Well, bless your heart,” is a Southern saying for sure, and one that has graced my ears throughout the years. After skinning my knee while chasing my brothers, I would run into the house with tears running down my cheeks, and mom would always say, “Well, bless your heart,” as she gave me a hug, followed by a trip to the medicine cabinet to get the Mercurochrome to clean my “devastating” injury before placating me with a Barbie Band-Aid. That red magic potion would burn like the devil, but she gingerly blew on my knee to help take the sting away. She would lovingly pat my little stubby hand, and I truly believe her touch did the healing. Mom’s youthful hands gradually became spotted with age and eventually disfigured with arthritis as the years went by, but the love she gave with her priceless touch never diminished.

It wasn’t until I slowed down long enough to examine my new blue nail polish that it came to me, “I’ve got my mother’s hands!” The vivid memories came flooding in, and I thought to myself, “This is one sign of maturity that I truly don’t mind.” I realize the appearance of my hands is not a flaw at all — it’s a gift!

When I look at my hands, not only do I see Mom’s hands, her smile travels across my mind. I hear her exuberant claps as she proudly applauds following my lack-luster recitals. I see her holding her trembling hands high up in the air, wearing her crooked cowboy hat, as she played banker and handed over all of the bank’s money to her grandsons, wearing their bandana masks, before they rode away on their stick horses. I see her sitting in her chair, lovingly stitching with her hands each square of material, as she made the many quilts we have cuddled in throughout the generations. Even today, I can still feel the warmth of her hands leaving her body as I held on to them tightly, selfishly not wanting to let her walk away into the arms of Jesus. I was truly blessed by her hands, her touch, and her love.

Now I get to share the blessings of mom’s hands with my grandchildren. Taking walks holding on to their soft little hands, folding my hands into “prayer hands” as a little one says the family prayer, and even taking a squirmy fish off of a hook is the best way I know to pass on the love. At the end of the day I get my reward when bath time comes, and I get splashed with bubbles from little ones as they play with trucks, sheep, cows, and whatever else may find its way into the tub. Being baptized and blessed by a grandchild’s love is the very best.

Jesus took the little children in His arms and touched them and blessed them. Little children, mature adults and even those pesky teenagers need a loving touch. The joy of a mother is taking our children into our arms, reaching out when they need a hand to hold, or clapping to encourage even the worst performance. That is our joy. If you’re not with your mother today, remember her touch, breathe in those treasured memories that will make your heart sing and feel the many blessings that Jesus gives each of us. If you are with your mother, walk over to her and just sit closely and hold her hand. Blessing her with your touch is the best gift of all as you celebrate her day.

Pray with Me:

Dear Father of Loving Hands,

You reach out to us and hold us so many times as we walk our days. Thank you for giving us the women in our lives who molded us by their touch.

Reaching out to You

Points to Ponder:

Mothers come in all shapes and sizes and come and go in our lives, and I was blessed to have three wonderful mothers whose hands touched my heart and soul. My mom, Lanore Austin, who gave me life, my precious mother-in-law, Mary Frances Moses, whose hands taught me how to needlepoint and make a great chocolate pie, and my other mother, Billie Johnson, who came into my life in the form of a friend, and created joy wherever she went.

  1. Who are the mothers in your life?
  2. If you can’t name one, is there someone in your life who needs a child?
  3. What’s your favorite memory of your mom? Share it with someone and continue her story.