ANNIE MOSSITEE'S STEW

            From a spoon of wood Mrs. Annie Mossitee sipped her stove top stew.  Her facial expression simmered from wrinkled brow, to slow boil frown, to roiling-over grimace.  Like butter in a frying pan, Annie was having a melt down.  "Why does everything I cook taste so bitter!" Annie growled.  Her body shook.  Her feet stamped.  In clinched fist the wooden spoon snapped.  She threw it to the floor.  She kicked it through kitchen door...

            ...Mr. Mossitee had just stepped in.  The spoon barely missed him.  "Aaaah, the spoon of the assassin!  Suffocated at work all day and poisoned every night.  The question is: was the wife just trying to dispose of the evidence or drive a wooden stake through whats left of my coagulated heart!"  Mr. Mossittee only half joked. 

            "Shut-up!  Just shut-up you stupid jerk!" Annie Mossitee screamed...

           And late that very night in the pale hallway light stood Annie and Mr. Mossitee at their children's bedroom door... There little Joy Mossitee tucked the covers under the chin of her baby brother and sang, "Sleep tight.  Don't let the Annie-Mossitee bugs bite."

            Too stunned to cry the Mossittes slowly stumbled down the hallway and crawled into not so grown-ups bed.  As if by a higher power the song of the innocent had beaten the animosity right out of the two sparring partners.  Tonight there would be no no fight over the TV remote.  In silence Annie hit the button dead on...

              "As the loose tongue stirs, so animosity blindly bites," said the on screen preacher.  "Why be so uptight?  Why stew over each others imperfections?  Why let the trivial escalate?  Why stir the stew of animosity?  Do we eat of it, that the after taste of bitter poison linger unto death?"  The Preacher paused, surveying the sand of guilt in every eye, then breathed, "The core of animosity is fear; and fear is the absence of love.  When mommy and daddy fear they may not be together much longer, does not the anxiety monster lurk also under the beds of their precious children?"  Not a dry eye was left in the congregation, nor in the bed of Annie Mossitee. 

            "Why do we," the preacher asked, "why do we all at times put the pedal to the metal of animosity?  Why not just lighten up?  Lighten up by looking up.  For love is the light from above.  The Living God is love.  Never by self alone is the love of any man or woman sustained; but by the love of God, who first loved us.  Lighten up!  Praise first the Author of love above.  Then praise each other.  Count your blessings.  Count especially the Son of God, Jesus.  Christ Jesus, the greatest love ever given.  John 3:16 KJ,  'For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever lasting life."  (also 1st John 4:14-21)

            And on the other side of the TV screen, the hand of Annie found the hand of her husband... And they prayed.

               There is no better way to lighten up than with the light of the world... Jesus... (John 8:12)


                                              Animosity stew... Prayer... Love restored...
                                                    See the true story of two brothers.
                                              (Jacob & Esau: Chapters 25-33 Genesis)                                              
  



   

                                 

               

             

LIKE THE ROSE LOVES THE RAIN

                Little Rose knew that into each life a little rain must fall.  Sitting up in bed, wrapped snug from her toes to her head, Rose knew each rivulet of rain spattered against the window pane.  Knew too each cobble stone of the garden path beyond.  And Rose smiled, watching, rhythmically nodding along with the dance of her kindred roses, flowers and ferns as they bent and leaped neath the weight of the rain.  And as the plants slowly, silently drank their fill, little Rose drank too, drank deep into a vision of yesterday, when the bearer of living water walked among the garden flowers.  And she remembered in that sunshiny day the joyous dance of those flowers singing at the feet of Jesus.  And little Rose wept glad tears that into each life a little rain must fall...  Like the Rose loves the rain, we need Jesus... 

                Isaiah 35:1 KJ, "The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose."  For the redeemed even the solitary desert wilderness will blossom like the rose.  With Jesus in their hearts the faithful inherit this vision of beauty and encouragement.  Isaiah 35:2 NLT, "Yes, there will be an abundance of flowers and singing and joy!  The deserts will become as green as the mountains of Lebanon, as lovely as Mount Carmel or the plain of Sharon.  The Lord will display his glory, the splendor of our God."

                By embracing the Son of God repentance reaps redemption; the lost become the found; the forgiven become the children of God, inheritors of the promise of God.  For Jesus is the love and mercy and grace of God the Father.  And this is the never ending of his redeemed: Isaiah 55:12 KJ, "For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands."

                By Jesus so are we freed from worry.  With Jesus the old ends; the new begins.  Therefore begin every day with Jesus.  See the singing of the rose, the clapping of the trees.  Breath the air of the glory of God.  Taste the sweetness of living water and dance neath the light of falling rain... And God said in Ezekiel 34:26 KJ, "And I will make them and the places round about my hill a blessing; and I will cause the shower to come down in his season; there shall be showers of blessing."

              The shower that came down in his season is Jesus.  Every day His showers continue giving blessings of salvation.  And when He returns again, so will the whole earth be washed; then mountains and valleys, hills and dales shall fill with flowers singing and trees clapping.  

                Like the Rose loves the rain...  We need Jesus...  Let blossom your heart...

                                                     ...Hear the flowers singing...

                If "Like the Rose Loves the Rain" will water any thirsty little roses in your neighborhood, please share.