It’s the first day of May already! When I was in elementary school, I remember May 1^st was called May Day and we would go into the gymnasium and do some dance around the “maypole”. I never really knew why we did it but if it got me out of class, I was happy! Apparently, there is a great deal of controversy on its origin and some even say it’s a pagan ritual. Does it really matter? I’m not dancing around a maypole anytime soon nor have I since my childhood!

Mayday, as a word, is also a signal of distress that’s used in an emergency. I researched (actually, I admit that I Googled it) why that particular word was used and it’s derived from the French venez maider, meaning “come help me”. Hmmm…how interesting! This word was created for mariners and aviators but is used by other transportation vehicles too. The call is to be given three times in a row and is supposed to be loud enough to drown out any other noise. A mayday relay call is made on behalf of someone else in distress. Often, one vessel would make the call for another vessel needing immediate attention. I think you know where I’m going with this!

For us, this last month has been a series of events that were unexpected and critical. These situations occurred on top of those we deal with on a daily basis. It’s though we get up in the morning expecting the day to go one way and it takes a detour into strange waters with a strong current. When I woke up today, I wondered if I should hide under the covers or get out of bed to face it all…just being honest. There are those moments when your faith hasn’t kicked in to tell you anything different. Our faith does speak but in my case, it was yelling, “Mayday Mayday Mayday”! I didn’t ask my faith to be a cheerleader chanting, “You can do it, You can do it, You can, You can”! I wasn’t “stirring up the gift within me” or allowing my faith confessions to take over. I simply cried out to God, “Come Help Me”!

I remember an episode of “Brady Bunch” where the boys were competing with the girls in building a house of cards. This was one of my favorite shows as a kid…we only had three channels back then! Anyway, the winner won the stamps to redeem something they wanted. In the “old days”, we used to have green stamps that could be collected and then redeemed at a center. I always loved going there and remember my sisters and I having to put all the stamps in these little booklets before we could go. To continue, the Brady boys wanted a boat and the girls wanted a sewing machine because the place was going out of business. The competition gets intense as each sibling builds the tower and we were breathless as we watched! As they neared the top it was time for poor Jan, the gawky middle sister, to have her turn but wait…she was wearing a charm bracelet that nearly upset the whole thing! Whew, that Jan! The boys were ready to win but suddenly, Tiger (the family dog) runs into Greg as he’s placing the last card on the stack and the house of cards tumbles down-OH NO! MayDay Mayday Mayday!

Well, you guessed it, the girls won! They went to the Redemption Center to get their sewing machine but, as the wholesome show would have it, the sisters led by perfect older sister “Marsha, Marsha, Marsha” (Brady fans inside joke) felt bad for the boys and decided to get a color TV for everyone to enjoy! Applause! Cheers!

I said all that to ask this…Is there nothing to drown out all the noise in our worrisome minds? Is there a Tiger running toward us? Does life feel like a house of cards and we are competing with the enemy for our “stuff”? By stuff I’m talking about everything that belongs to us as children of God; what His Word promises those who have been redeemed. Those stamps entitled the Brady girls to get something. God’s Word is our book of stamps and redemption center all in one! It also entitles us to claim those promises for someone else and shout that Mayday relay call.

No matter who’s in distress, we can shout “come help”! He knows before we even ask but…we are the ones that have to realize who we are and whose we are. We may be in the boat, being tossed to and fro, but so is Jesus and He never shouts, “Mayday”! He goes to the bow of the boat, as He did in the gospels, and shouts, “Peace, Be Still.” That peace enables us to pick up our house of cards and build, once again… and even have the steadiness of Jan Brady!

Today in our beloved country, terror has struck, once again. On a beautiful spring day, attention of sports enthusiast,, world-wide, focused on the popular Boston Marathon. Runners from many countries had spent countless days training for this event and made the trip with great excitement and expectancy. The race began with joy, anticipation and friendly competition. However, the race didn't end as expected. The horrible happened…a nightmare that woke up a nation.

At the finish line, two bombs were set off in the midst of many people in a city where over a million had come to participate or watch. Suddenly, the unexpected happened and left three dead and many severely injured. One child was killed and two others-all who were loved by people. I always think that. There are people completely devastated tonight; a surreal experience I simply cannot wrap my mind around…nor do I ever want to. They’ve lost someone, that they dearly love, and they died in such a horrific manner. Other family members and loved ones, fill hospital waiting rooms where limbs are being amputated from the injured. Can you even imagine that feeling?

The day was meant for enjoyment yet ended in a traumatic, terrifying event that has caused a nation to tune in to all of its news and social media outlets. We are waiting for information, maybe some answers, some comfort…some way to make sense out of a completely senseless act. Not only is this act senseless, it is heartless.

Only a heart cloaked in sin and deception could be so influenced by the prince of darkness. We need to fill our churches, fill our pulpits, fill our streets, and preach the truth of this Gospel. Moreover, we need to stop wanting to be massaged with motivational messages that keep us comfortable and thus, ineffective. Those messages are, “All about us” but the Gospel is “All about others.”

One of the young ladies in our church tweeted something very profound, “And just like that, my entire life was put in perspective.” Often, it takes tragedies like this to jolt us back to personal inventory but the trick is…keeping that perspective entact. Live ready! Help someone else to be ready! We have the promise of Heaven, but we don’t have the promise of every day on earth.

Nonetheless, a city is stunned, a nation is shocked, families are mourning, and people are hurting in many ways. It is a solemn moment. It is a time for reflection and meditation. It is a time to love and show love. It is a time to crawl up on that throne wrapped in the Comforter. Maybe you can talk or just sit there in His presence. However you choose to be with Him, He’ll be with you. Because it’s in times like this, we look to our Father and there we find safety …in every sense of the word.

We bow our heads, humble our hearts, and pray to our God for the people of Boston and all those affected by this tragic event. You are not alone…in any way.

*I received an email a few weeks ago that touched my heart so deeply I had to share it. It was written by a precious lady that serves wholeheartedly in our church. Her heart is so tender and pure that I knew her story was earnest while reflective. Thank you to Gabriella Nagy for writing this beautiful story and allowing me to share it with the Journal family.

The Treasure Box

A few weeks ago, God reminded me of a “little story” that I wrote more that fifteen years ago. I kept it in the back of my Hungarian Bible for so long and never shared it with anyone, except my family.

I married a missionary and that life came with a lot of moving. When our daughter was three years old, we moved back to America. We told her she could only bring a few of her favorite toys that could fit in a small box. Once we were back in the states, we moved three times in six months. Our daughter still carried her little box with her everywhere she went; we started calling it her treasure box. Gabriella wouldn’t let anyone touch this box; it was very precious to her. In her eyes, everything in it was extremely valuable.

One day, we moved into my brother in-law’s basement so I was very busy cleaning, unpacking, and moving things around. I was determined to finish everything by the time my husband came home from work. In the middle of my work, little Gabriella came to me holding her treasure box and said, “Mommy, here is my box. You can pick anything you want from my box and keep it but please, will you play with me?” I told her I was busy right then but I would play with her when I was done.

The day went by quickly, and it was nighttime, before I realized my daughter had fallen asleep. As I covered her with a blanket, I looked at her sweet face and thought she looked like a beautiful little angel. In that moment something caught my eye beside her pillow…it was the treasure box. Only then did I remember my promise to her. My heart broke and tears filled my eyes. I realized that when she offered me that box, filled with her precious little toys, she had offered me her love. It was though she was saying, “Mommy, I love you and I’ll give you anything you want if you’ll just spend time with me.” I was so hurt knowing that I’d ignored her and now, it was too late…I’d missed a valuable moment.

Just then, I sensed God speaking to my heart and teaching me an important lesson. “My child, He gently whispered, I also have a treasure box sent from Heaven filled with many gifts; I gave it to the world out of my great love. This treasure is Jesus. Many people are too busy to take the time to accept what he offers. They may take the time to take a glance at him but they never open the treasure nor accept it as their own. In Him, are the treasures of love, peace, forgiveness, healing and so much more! I gave my greatest treasure to the world…my son, Jesus Christ. All people have to do is accept this gift by opening their hearts and receiving it.”

I learned a life-changing lesson that day. What will we do with this treasure offered to us by God? I hope you won’t be like me; too busy to stop, look at my daughter’s treasure box, and accept it with love. To us, Jesus is that treasure box. He wants us to realize that we can access all the great treasures found in Him and just like my daughter did, we can carry it with us wherever we go.

This past week, My Aunt Nitaleen passed from this life to the next and the best. She was my mother’s only sister and they were very close. For years, she’s battled health issues and has been lovingly cared for by her family and especially, my Mom. What a void she has left for her and for many. My mind can’t comprehend losing my sisters, my best friends, and my “go-to people” - my heart pounds just writing such a thought. Loss is painful but God’s grace is God’s strength. Yet, there is joy when I think of my Aunt.

My Aunt was who she was and that was my favorite thing about her. She was genuine and it was certainly refreshing since there was never a question what you might get when you saw her…you always knew. She was fun, funny, light-hearted and very loving. At family events, she could throw an honest jab our way and all we could do was laugh. In all the years I knew her; I never remember seeing her in a bad mood. What a testimony!

As the Apostle Paul said, in 2 Corinthians 3:2, “Ye are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all men.” Our lives are an open book and are read by those whom we encounter. What are we allowing others to read? What will be our living testimony?

For my Aunt, her story was one of victory amidst the most tragic of circumstances. She and her siblings lost their parents at very young ages. My mother and her brother went from foster homes to an orphanage. My Aunt was basically on her own along with her three older brothers. As a result, she certainly had an opportunity to be bitter and resentful of the life that was handed to her. Instead, she rose above those ashes and allowed her inner beauty to shine…and shine she did!

My mother ended her memorial service with a tribute to her life and their relationship. She told a story of how they’d discussed that their mother was awaiting their arrival in Heaven. My mom described her glorious mansion with many rooms and my Aunt, with her quick wit and comebacks declared, “I get the big room!” My mom, as her little sister, could have only one reply, “Okay by me…as long as they have adjoining doors.”

So as I think of my Aunt, all I can do is smile really. I think of her finally reunited with her mother in the paradise of Heaven that the rest of us long for. Heaven gives us hope. Because of that, I think of her in that mansion and I know I never have to doubt where she is…she is in the big room.

Well…here I sit and sit and sit as I enter week two of post-surgery recovery! My day has little variation and I can always be assured that there will be sitting! One exciting highlight is my ride in the car to therapy! Once I get there, however, the torture begins! Friday, the doctor aspirated my knee with a needle that made me nearly fall off the table! I now have a whole new level of compassion for anyone that’s gone through this. It’s not fun but not serious so I don’t want to sound like a whiney baby! Other than sitting, however, I can walk with crutches which is worthy of You-Tube…it’s a little comical at times!

Now, perhaps you can see why I’m bored! Nonetheless, I promised I’d use my time wisely. I’ve been able to read and do a lot of thinking. Naturally, when something is taken, I realize how valuable it is. It’s like when the power goes out, I realize how I take electricity for granted. Being able to move around, and have the freedom to do what I want or need, has been compromised. I walked around my kitchen today wishing I could cook. Then, I wandered into my laundry room longing to do some laundry! (I know I’m strange!) I wanted to drive my car, leave my house, or go somewhere….AAAHHHH!!!

l trudged back to my room, hooked back up to the ice machine I have to use on my knee, and watched the beautiful, fluffy snowfall. I had a choice to get sad or get busy…I chose the latter. After all, I’m thankful to have a house to be in and grateful that my surgery wasn’t serious. Sure, to be honest, I feel crummy but this has an end. “The sun will come out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there’ll be sun!” Yes, I’m singing it too!

Anyway, with resolve, I did what I could do and realized the many advantages to having this surgery and recovery. My body wasn’t the only thing needing it, my spirit needed recovery too. The freedom that I felt was taken, had really been given instead. For weeks, I’ve huffed and puffed through days and weeks wishing for quiet time. I’d look at the books on my nightstand, which had gone untouched, and longed to give them my undivided attention. I realized my books weren’t the only things needing it either. Having time to really talk to God made me see how He was getting my attention but it was divided…some here, some there, and some in-between.

I was reading Come Away My Beloved and one of the daily readings posed this question, ”Does God have my affection?”. I thought further and asked myself, “If he has my affection, does He have my time?”

Don’t we give our time to what we love or whom we love? If something or someone gets ignored for too long, something happens, or doesn’t happen, to let us know. There are times when we’re searching for answers when we only need to ask questions. If we’re honest with ourselves, those answers can usually explain a lot. If we unravel the mystery, the clues are often pointing at us. Simply put, we can see what we’ve committed by whom we’ve omitted.

Many years ago, Frances J. Roberts wrote the aforementioned book. I’ve had several copies of that classic that I’ve given away. But just like God, a dear friend bought me a lovely pocket devotional that sits by my bed or in my purse. For now, it’s bedside so I can read it methodically because the words are so deep and meaningful. The author described her writings with profound words that brought tears to my eyes and understanding to much of life’s major or minor ordeals.

Just a few words described her work, “Forged in the crucible of life.” Just a few words describe my reply, “Forge Ahead!”