I love this painted card submission by Shirley Ginter. In fact, it is practically perfect in every way! Love for Digging Deep, for the season, for all of you, and for the Lord shows through in every stroke! 
I love the season. Little lessons pop up all over the place. My husband keeps saying, “There’s a blog post in that!” Earlier this week I was putting up some lights by the front door. I had to try and light up a bush and then a wreath that was a couple of feet above the bush. 
You know you really never want the lights that are in between your illuminations to show (when it’s a decoration on your house). I mean you want those stray lights that are not really outlining anything to be hidden. Sometimes you just start a new strand on each thing you’re illuminating. But sometimes you run out of outlets or your strand of lights is just too long not to use somewhere else. So you end up with a little row of lights just dangling in the air here between the wreath and the bush.
As I was putting black tape around those stray lights, a little light (no pun intended) went off in my head. It was next to impossible to completely hide those little lights with black tape. I’d think I had it and then back away and see that the brightness was escaping through some tiny little crack between two pieces of tape. I’d see a little sparkle coming through a spot of adhesive.
That’s the way it is with our Matthew 5 light. “We are,” as Jesus said, “the light of the world.” There is blackness all around us. It’a a blackness of sin that’s hard to penetrate and the entities of blackness stick together. Like that tape, they try to extinguish the light. But it’s hard to hide the light when it’s Christianity. Because of the boldness, the brightness and the beauty of Christ, His light in us penetrates that blackness in which the world tries to envelope us. The little bright light, that you are, escapes the black tape, and someone sees you in the dark void.
You are the light of the world, a city set on a hill that cannot be hidden.
Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.
This little light of mine…I’m going to let it shine.
4. Goodness. The word is in the Bible some 50 times and it most often refers to the goodness of our God. When you look at giant boulders placed by God, to which it’s so very difficult to even ascend, much less impossible to move, and you realize that His springs of sustenance flow over and from those rocks, you stand amazed at His goodness. You think of words like these from the Psalmist:
The kids started to be eagle-eye watchers for those little signs and they even started a game of “How-many signs-will-there-be-before-the car?” (Ezra won. There were ten more and he had guessed exactly ten. But passing ten signs is almost a “forever.” ) There were occasional
it’s going to be like after the arduous climb that is life. And, in that case, there will not be a descending trail. There will not be the sad “Mammy, do we have to leave already? I want to stay here. Let me get one more drink.” We will get to stay. No darkness will loom. No fear of misdirection or of running out of water. We will get to stay—where the Lamb is the light of endless day and the waters of the river of life flow freely. All fear will be forever eradicated.
It’s been a good reminder for me. In our local family, there are several “baby sisters” (women who are brand new Christians and have their own unique needs). In the past year, these young Christians have faced all of the “regular” issues: sick children, financial issues, home repairs, problems at school, and stresses of jobs. But often, there are bigger issues that may come their way. Though some, but not all of these, may be the lingering effects of having lived years of their adult lives in the world and not in the Lord, they are real and traumatic, nonetheless.
This is the day I’ve been working and waiting for since the idea for this study crystallized about six months ago. There are so many people to whom I owe a large debt of gratitude for helping me in various ways to get the study written, ready and distributed. It’s been a journey, already, but the best part of it happens now.
I will never laugh so hard in an antique store again (as that day that I fell down a flight of stairs holding a stack of antique dishes, making it all the way to the bottom, with clatter and flair, but still holding every dish and not breaking a single one!). Pat Deasy could laugh at me, with me, beside me, over me and while pulling me up!…And make me laugh just as hard!).
I will never get to wander through fields of giant sunflowers with anyone who loves plants as much as Pat.
Who has a friend who will drop everything almost any Thursday night you call up—even last minute__ and say “Can y’all go with us to Marvins for fish?” I had that friend. I’m not sure I can go back to Marvin’s anymore. Her anticipated sweet potatoes couldn’t taste as sweet and good anymore. She’d go all day on Thursday without eating, just so we could sit there and talk and eat, and eat and talk, on Thursday night. She’d bring me the Early America Life Magazines that she’d already looked through (I have a stack now waiting for me and they make me cry), and we would talk…about the decor in the magazines, about Dorcas class and that sweet first great grandchild and she’d want an update on each one of our kids, too.
I’ll miss the amazing flair she had for vintage and Victorian clothing. She could pull off, with perfection, what nobody else could. I loved her beaded clutch bags and puffy poplin blouses and the antique laces and lace-up ankle boots with tiny heels.
I’ll
I miss her so much. I wish I could have said a temporary farewell. But she has already “fared well.” Because she trusted God and obeyed Him, I’ll get to hear her eternal welcome in that morning of joy. I miss her, but she is not missing a thing. The valley of the shadow of death is, in reality, the frightening vale we all travel every day.