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catzndogz9
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Interests: I like cross country skiing, ice skating, jazzercise, kickboxing, running and reading and teaching the Word of God. I love to spend time in prayer, praise and worship of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Expertise: I have expertise only in asking God's forgiveness in the myriad and one million ways I need to daily.
Occupation: Counselor
Industry: Public High School
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Website: visit my website
Member Since:
3/8/2006
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| As I looked into his eyes, there rose up a different kind of brightness. It burned there, not unfamiliar to him for he had called it to himself and welcomed its warmth. I listened carefully to nuances and inflections and the words of his mouth. These were the words of his true heart really, and frightening because of that. These words were sired by a deceitful and dark father, a liar, a con, from a chasm of great depth. I spoke nothing...unable to breathe...unable to quiet the pounding of the blood in my veins. I felt my heart would splinter into a million little pieces if I ventured into the fray with one so bent on hell and ruin. At the moment of this realization, I saw that he was like a sweaty animal rushing in a panic through darkened woods only to turn and find his stalker already upon him. There was an aroma of death on him, he had been mucking about in it, and the scent wafted cloyingly through the room. As his words intensified, justified, battered and rammed against me, a stillness like mist, came rising to the surface of my internal landscape. With this stillness came only this; "Jesus," uttered in a safe pocket of my heart. "Jesus." His agitation grew with his words of hate and doom, sounding like the death metal music he so highly esteemed. Profanity and a litany of questions were fired at me like newly sharpened daggers. He knew that I knew right then, right at that moment, that the unuttered name of Jesus held sway over his spewing vomitus. It was a defeat...and he had witnessed it right before his eyes. A sound, like a thousand bat wings exiting the mouth of a cold cave, fluttered and tumbled and tripped from his clumsy tongue then. He was unable to continue. A look of surprise and then confusion crossed his face. One word, the very one word that means everything, whispered up my throat and across my teeth as he, spent and broken, walked out of my office."Jesus." Today I firsthand witnessed the reality that is satan in our world (although I have had him dancing about my office before). The angry young man had absolutely no idea that I was a Christian. Something inside him told him to spit out that hatred and anger against something he had unconsciously sensed in me...JESUS! Every word he uttered, every thought he had, came from the bloated belly of the beast. But they were scattered, like leaves in a heavy autumn wind by a singular word, "Jesus!" What power in that NAME! JESUS! c 11/09/2009 M. LaPointe | | |
| Susan Meissner has done it again. Her newest book, White Picket Fences, is another perfect little nugget of fiction with deliciously interwoven lives and upside-down, twisty-turny storylines. It is a story of the deconstruction of a family in a most unusual way and the rebuilding of those lives through forgiveness. Amanda Janvier has good intentions when she takes in her brother's daughter, Tally, when her brother disappears again. However, the life that she believed she was living, the one with a solid and supportive family, the very life she was offering to Tally, (surrounded by the proverbial white picket fence), begins to unravel in unusual and unexpected ways right before her eyes. How God's direction and guidance leads each family member to His grace and mercy through a huge dose of forgiveness, creates a real page turner. Meissner is well becoming one of my favorite Christian fiction writers! I highly recommend this book to any reader. 
This book can be purchased at http://www.randomhouse.com/catalog/display.pperl? isbn=978140007457&ref=externallink_wbp_whitepicketfences_sec_0916_01. This book is provided by Random House. c11/09/2009 M. LaPointe | | |
| What was David talking about when he wrote in Psalm 16:8b "I will not be shaken?"What seems at first to be a simple statement of confidence turns out to have more profound roots. David writes in the first person but is prophetically speaking of Jesus and to us. David's history of continual sin hints at why these words held great significance in his own life (and now in ours). David was the youngest of the eight sons of Jesse. He cared for the flocks and perfected his music while in the fields. He was selected by Samuel to be the king that Saul had failed to be. David, during this time, defeated Goliath which brought jealousy to Saul's heart. Saul's son, Jonathan, however, became closely bonded with David. Saul began plotting against David trying to ensnare him with his daughters. Jonathan saved David by informing him of this plot. David then had to flee to a cave and live as an outlaw. He had opportunities to kill Saul but spared his life twice. He even retreated to Philistine territory for a while, at which time, Jonathan was killed in a battle at Mount Gilboa. David continued ruling, living a life of sin and prostrate repentance for many years. Throughout David's life, his sins and struggles were recorded openly through his music. David's bad choices and subsequently cursed family can be read about in 1 Samuel-1 Kings. However, all through his life David consistently and desperately wrote songs and praises to God. The beauty and prophetic nature of this Psalm can shed a light on the darkened twined path that many follow today. Psalm 16 "Keep me safe, O God, for in You I take refuge. I said to the Lord, "You are my Lord; apart from You I have no good thing,"(verses 1-2). Jesus was the perfect man, yet was still dependent on God the Father. Christ Himself cried out to the One Who was His only refuge--His Father in Heaven. David's words, "apart from You I have no good thing," were echoed by Jesus not as a denial of His sinlessness but of finding His sufficiency only in God. Psalm 73 reiterates, "Whom have I in Heaven but You? And earth has nothing I desire besides You. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Believers who turn with every need to their Father will not be misguided. "As for the saints who are in the land, they are the glorious ones in whom all is My delight. The sorrows of those will increase who run after other gods. I will not pour out their libations of blood or take up their names on My lips," (verses 3-4). God is central in the life of Jesus. However, that did not exclude love for the saints, the true followers of God. In fact, to love God is to love His people. 1 John 5:1-2 tells us, "Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ is born of God, and everyone who loves the Father loves His child as well. This is how we know that we love the children of God: by loving God and carrying out His commands." Throughout the life of Jesus we witness the pure love of the Father in Jesus' actions and words. David also demonstrated this love many times in his merciful interactions with his enemies. There is a contrast between the true followers of the Father and those who follow other gods though. Our Father will not even mention the names of idolaters. Not having our name on the lips of God the Father separates us in a most nullifying way from the One we most need. "Lord, You have assigned me my portion and my cup, You have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance,"(verses 5-6). For Jesus, His portion and cup were entirely of God. God guarded the boundaries of His inheritance and planned every detail of His life, which gave Him a secure future. David compares it to a pleasant estate in a beautiful setting---an inheritance of good things. Living in close fellowship with God allows us brief glimpses of the perfect ordering of our lives. God does not make errors in creating us. His plan is aptly set before our birth. "I will praise the Lord, Who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I have set the Lord always before me. Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken,"(verses 7-8). Jesus always praised His Father for His guidance and counsel. Even when Jesus was in the Garden of Gethsemene sleeplessly pacing and praying, He meditated on God's Word. Jesus knew that the perfect Word from the mouth of His Father lent instruction and certain comfort to His grieving heart. David's prophetic words mirror what we are and how we are to live now as believers. Christ always kept His Father before Him. Every action and word from Jesus was in obedience to God's leading. Once our hearts are transformed by Christ, then these are the same paths we will choose to follow. One of my Bible concordances speaks of the right hand and it's significance (verse 8): 1. Power-"Your arm is endued with power; Your hand is strong, Your right hand exalted," (Psalm 89:13). 2. Safety-"Now I know the Lord saves His anointed; He answers him from His holy Heaven with the saving power of His right hand,"(Psalm 20:6). 3.Honor-"The Lord says to my Lord: "Sit at My right hand until I make Your enemies a footstool for Your feet," (Psalm 110:1). 4. Pleasure-"You have made known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand," (Psalm 16:22). 5. Favor- "Let Your hand rest on the man at Your right hand, the Son of man You have raised up for Yourself," (Psalm 80:17). 6. Support- "You give me Your shield of victory, and Your right hand sustains me; You stoop down to make me great,"(Psalm 18:35). "Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body will also rest secure, because You will not abandon me to the grave, nor will You let Your Holy One see decay,"(verses 9-10). Jesus could rest secure in the knowledge that He was under the constant care and protection of His Daddy. We have this assurance also if we proclaim Jesus as Savior. We know that believers will be with Christ in Heaven when they die. We will not be just dead and rotting in a grave somewhere. Philippians 1:21-23 explains,"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far, but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body." Believers are here with a purpose--to be Christ with skin, to show God's glory, to point the way to the Father. Until God decides we are to die, it is just as it was with Jesus; we are to obey Him and reflect His love to others. "You have made known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand,"(verse 11). Jesus had confidence that Abba Daddy would lead Him along the path of life. This path would ultimately lead Him back to Heaven, to His Father's presence. There Jesus would forever experience God's pleasure and joy. This is offered to us as well. What an awesome gift salvation is! We are given the opportunity to experience eternal life with God in Heaven! This is achieved only one way, through one God, the only One, and with continued repentance for our inevitable sins. This is how we become "stirred and not shaken." c 10/27/2009 M. LaPointe | | |
| "But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you....Do to others as you would have them do to you. If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that...Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful," (Luke 6:27-28, 32-34, 36). I am sure that like me, you have read those verses many times before. And, like me, you have probably tried to love out of obedience... specifically choosing to fabricate human love rather than allowing the Holy Spirit to fill you with Godly love. Don't get me wrong, obedience is a good thing. The best part of obedience though is that God can change our hearts and fill them with the real thing~if we go the extra step. That first step literally feels as if you are breaking through the rotted wood of your own thinking and understanding to the unknown, scary, cobwebby, creepy-crawly stuff beneath the porch. Who knows what is really under there?!Our God does and He wants to clean it out! Love is, well, it's what God is, it is what we are called to and it is what we lack in abundance on our own. It requires more of Him and less of us. Love is smiling at the person in church or on your street who smells, doesn't dress well or isn't in your usual circle. Love is reaching out a hand to help the ones whose wheels don't squeak the loudest. Love is swallowing the sparrow of pride in your throat and speaking to the silent, the frightened, the unfriendly, the hurting or the invisible. It is not forgetting others and apologizing if you do. It is forgiving aged wrongs. It is allowing the hurts caused by others to fly away like a million little butterflies...each and every time. It places Jesus right before those who need Him most. The following story shows what Jesus' love looks like-it's called Carl's Garden;  Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake. Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.
Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII. Watching him, we worried that although he had survived WWII, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs and drug activity. When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up. He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened. He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?" The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile. As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled. Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running out to help him. Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it. "Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet. Carl just passed a hand over his brow and signed, shaking his head. "Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water. Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?" "I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately," came the calm reply. Satisfying himself that Carl really was alright, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place. A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before, their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose. This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done. Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering. The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches. As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack. "Don't worry old man. I'm not going to hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl. "What's this?" Carl asked. "It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet." "I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?" The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment. "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.
Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago. He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather. In particular, the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church. The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do you best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden." The following spring another flyer went up. It read: "Person needed to care for Carl's garden." The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said. The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him." The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done. In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it. One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday." "Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?" "Carl," he replied.
- AUTHOR UNKNOWN - c 10/14/2009 M. LaPointe | | |
| Cindy Woodsmall's new book, The Sound of Sleigh Bells, is a truly enjoyable read. As is the norm for Woodsmall, she intricately weaves an intriguing story of healing and renewal into the setting of close-knit Amish family life. Beth Hertzler has carefully orchestrated her life so that she is able to maintain a safe distance from relationships and pain. The problem is, regardless of her attempts to forget, she continues to re-live the horrible pain of a tragedy in her past. Until Beth finds a unique treasure, she has been merely whispering through life without direction. This treasure, and the creator of it, begin the healing process that lead Beth to a new outlook on life. Woodsmall seems to raise the bar with each new book she writes. I highly recommend The Sound of Sleigh Bells. This book can be purchased at: http://www.randonhouse.com/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9780307446534. 
c 10/12/2009 M. LaPointe This book was provided for review by the WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group. | | |
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