Category Archives: Body Of Christ

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Focus

Several years ago our daughter’s pastor shared that he prayerfully chose a word each year on which to focus. As the year unfolded it blessed him to see God using that word to illuminate areas in his life where God was indeed working. As followers of Jesus, we by faith believe that God is working in us and through us, yet often are oblivious to the specifics. That idea of intentionality resonated with me.

It is so easy for me to go through life day by day and NOT notice what God is doing until I intentionally stop and look. The focus of a specific “word” has helped me do just that. My words the past few years have been “grace”, listen”, “humility”, “follow” and the first one – “focus”.

So lately I have been asking the Lord to impress on me what my word should be for 2025. I did not receive any clear impression. Should I continue with “listen” again? Maybe I needed more focus on listening?

Every year my sister-in-law Renee sends me a beautiful calendar of calligraphy scriptures by artist Timothy Botts. I was getting ready to switch out last year’s calendar with the new one and my eye caught the artist’s statement from the 2024 calendar. “A Love for Art and the Word”. YES!! That struck my heart! I love God’s Word and God has blessed me with artistic ability.

Timothy Botts goes on to say in his statement that his artistic expression responds to the prayer – “Day by day, oh dear Lord, three things I pray: to see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly”

Then yesterday I was reading my devotional where I pray for each of our grandchildren, and now our great-grandchild. In the forward this quote appeared attributed to Richard of Chichester (1197-1253) “For these three things I pray: To see thee more clearly, to love thee more dearly, to follow thee more nearly.”

I took it as confirmation that those three phrases are my “word” for 2025. My prayer.

Psalm 25:4-6 says –

Show me the right path, O Lord;
point out the road for me to follow.
5 Lead me by your truth and teach me,
for you are the God who saves me.
All day long I put my hope in you.
6 Remember, O Lord, your compassion and unfailing love,
which you have shown from long ages past.

I will now be looking this year for the ways God answers this prayer.

God is faithful.

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Silent Night, Holy Night, Again

Adahlyn Wood Ledford, Caleb Ledford, and Alice Caroline Ledford

Silent Night
By Abigail Hardy
It was December 5th, 1992.  As I rushed with my parents into the emergency room entrance late that night, a gurney sped past us.  Like a snapshot, I can remember, the sight of a leg, knee up in the air covered with a white sheet and below the knee, unnaturally, something large and black was bisecting the bloody leg.  Is that really what I saw?  I was too unsure to ask my parents.  I could tell they were more scared than they were willing to admit to me.
I sat in the waiting room of the ER.  I felt lost and unsteady as my parents went back to talk with the doctors.  Words like “accident” “coma” “racing” “head-on” were punctuating the air of the waiting room as people from our small church slowly filled it. 

Things like this do not happen to us.  Not to kids coming back from a church youth group trip.  Surely not, God. 

The van, driven by our church’s youth group leader and my Dad’s closest friend, had been hit head-on by a man in a Corvette.  He had been racing 120 mph down the curving road, some pieces of his car left hanging high in the trees. 
My oldest sister Hannah had been in the back of the van with four other junior high students from our church youth group, and two adult leaders in the front.  Kirsten, the energetic college student from WCU who helped with the youth group, died instantly.  Hannah was in a coma.  Mr. Brown, the driver, was the victim we had seen as we rushed into the ER with the brake pedal stuck through his lower leg and a broken pelvis and ribs.  He had been pinned in the car and had prayed with the kids and kept them calm until the emergency services arrived and were able to cut him out.  Another student had a serious head injury and the other three had escaped with broken bones or scrapes and bruises.

My sister had been airlifted to Memorial Mission in Asheville soon after my parents and I had arrived at the local ER.  When I got to visit her in the hospital the next day, I remember the sight of my mother, holding her hand, singing hymns and Christmas carols to her unresponsive body. 

On the third day, as my mother sang Silent Night to her daughter, she heard my sister’s voice join with hers.  Hannah had woken up.

This is the meaning of Christmas, lived out by the people I lived with. 
Mr. Brown, speaking peace to panicked kids as his own pain loomed like a giant wave above him. 
Kirsten, losing her life in the middle of obedience to Christ’s call on her to minister to kids.
My mom, singing Silent Night over my sister in total faith that God is our healer and restorer.
My sister, given back life through no merit or effort of her own, and, oh, so thankful for that gift.

And, yes, the tears fall when I sing Silent Night at Christmas.  Because this is a beautiful, broken world that our Almighty God was born to save.

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You Are Mine

Four Generations 1979

Gayle, Hannah, Svea, and Esther

My Grandmother, an amazing woman who emigrated to the United States from Sweden in 1920, lived the “American Dream”. She left the poverty of northern Europe between the two World Wars and worked as a maid, then a cook for a wealthy Chicago family. She met my grandfather through a friend, married, had three daughters, raised two grandsons, and began oil painting at age 52 when she had an empty nest.

Yet those facts don’t tell the whole story. Svea was a force. She had a deep love for her Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and shared that love whenever she could. She quoted Bible verses to all of us – sometimes out of context to get her point across – yet she truly loved God’s Word.

She fiercely loved her family, and made holidays, especially Thanksgiving, a feast of food, love, and laughter. I have two brothers and 5 male cousins and we all had the “privilege” of sitting at the “piggy table” (in the kitchen) while the adults ate in peace in the dinning room with china and crystal. I smile thinking about those meals. We laughed so hard that our stomachs ached as those boys jockeyed for attention as the most hilarious. “Pass the rolls” meant a literal “pass” and missing the catch sent the boys into hoots of derision. To this day I am petrified about catching anything. (thanks Tommy)

Every once in a while, my Grandmother would stick her head in the kitchen and admonish us to “keep it down” and then retreat back to the dining room and the civilized conversation. We wouldn’t have traded the dining room for the piggy table any day! Oh, by the way, the food was DELICIOUS!! Svea was an exceptional cook.

After my grandfather passed away and Grandma lived alone for several years, she had a stroke and then moved in with my parents who were then living near us in North Carolina. Grandma suffered another stroke and then went to live in a care center for rehabilitation. She thrived in that environment, enjoying the social interaction and bingo sessions all the while continuing to paint. She had a solo exhibit of her paintings for her 90th birthday!

As she turned 95, Svea began to fail, yet her spirit was strong! Our daughter, Salem, became a CNA through her high school health occupations classes and did a rotation at the care center where Grandma lived. Grandma was forgetting names but recognized Salem. She would walk through the center pushing her wheelchair and when she saw Salem, she would say – “You are mine”. Then she would let everyone know around her that Salem “was hers”. Svea was so proud to have family there and wanted everyone to know.

Recalling Svea’s love for all of us in her family, it reminds me that our Heavenly Father loves us fiercely with His perfect love. He has called us by name. He never forgets who we are – He says “You are Mine”.

Isaiah 43:1-3 says –

43 But now, O Jacob, listen to the Lord who created you.
O Israel, the one who formed you says,
“Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you.
I have called you by name; you are mine.
2 When you go through deep waters,
I will be with you.
When you go through rivers of difficulty,
you will not drown.
When you walk through the fire of oppression,
you will not be burned up;
the flames will not consume you.
3 For I am the Lord, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

This Thanksgiving I am so thankful for the legacy of my grandmother – Svea Elise Anderson Rohner. Her prayers for me and example of love for Jesus have impacted my life eternally. I pass that on now to my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchild.

Remember – we are called by His name – we are His.