Joy in the Morning

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Dear Friend,
This poem came to me years ago, while I was at the seashore for a personal retreat in Ocean City, New Jersey.
I got dressed early one morning and walked the short distance to the boardwalk, arriving just as the sun was rising over the ocean. Moments later I sat down on a large rock near water’s edge; my eyes feasting on the never-ending waves crashing against the rocks along the shoreline.

The scene before my awestruck eyes was a picture of God’s never-ending love crashing through the walls of my barren heart. It wasn’t long before the words of this poem filled the pages of my journal, echoing the new found joy I had long awaited. 

Joy in the morning,
How I welcome Your Presence.
Jesus . . . Sweet Rose of Sharon,
Joy of my life.


Joy at noontime,
Your presence always welcomed,
Giving strength from above.
Jesus . . . You are my Joy! 


Joy in the evening,
Your presence lingers still,
While  I wait in silence,
You whisper . . . “Peace be still. “

Joy at nighttime,
Sweet communion with the Lord.
Darkness and light are alike to you.
Jesus . . . Joy of my nights! 

Joy of my Beloved . . . your love is endless, filling the earth as the waters cover the sea. 
It just keeps coming, coming towards me.  This Joy . . . filling, and  infusing new life,
boundless and free. 

Weeping may endure for the night, 
but Joy comes in the morning. 
Psalm 30:5 




Live a Life of Love

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Everyone in Atmore, Alabama knew Naomi Biggs was one of the best cooks around. The large boarding house she owned and operated for many years was a revolving door to everyone, especially when she opened her dining room on week days for folks from local and surrounding communities.

The old saying the “way to a man’s heart is through his stomach”, could be true of many of us; especially when the food is dished out with the kind of love our Grandmother showed. In my mind’s eye I can still see this joyful lady greeting her noon guests as if they were family. To Grandma Naomi, it was all-ways . . . all about family.

Some of the finest, and most delicious southern dishes a heart might desire filled her two long dining tables….And you could always help yourself to seconds. That is if there was anything left!  

I remember how quickly Grandma could whip up a large batch of biscuits, bake to a golden brown, and serve them with a contagious laughter that sent your heart soaring. 

Those biscuits were like thrown bread from heaven!

I remember watching Grandma take a cold biscuit, bore a hole in it and fill it with sorghum syrup. By the time it reached your reaching hands it was oozing pure sweetness! One taste and you were hooked for life. 

Grandma was a church lady and loved Jesus, but was never preachy. Though she couldn’t read the Bible, she lived it. Truly her life bore the resemblance of the Savior…. And the fruit of his Spirit the Bible talks about.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Galatians 5:22,23

Dear Father in heaven, how grateful we are for the godly grandmother you gave us. May the memories of her life continue to be a source of encouragement and hope for all those who knew her. Give us the faith to walk in the steps of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and live a life of love as grandma so faithfully modeled before us. May we too be found faithful! Amen.

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To be continued….

Dear friends and family,
My sister Dorothy Jean and I are endeavoring to post a series about the life of our beloved Grandma Biggs. Jean has become quite the artist, both with water color and just recently sketching. She has been my constant encouragement and inspiration to publish some of the things I’ve written over the years. Thank you dear sister. To God be the Glory as our lives tell His Story!


A Christmas Remembered

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He orders His angels to protect you wherever you go.
Psalm 91:11

We felt like sitting ducks as heavy traffic zoomed past us. We needed help! Of all times and places to have a flat tire . . . the Pennsylvania turnpike on a rainy cold morning during the busy Christmas Holidays. Thankfully, my husband was able to pull to the narrow side of the road, with a prayer we would be out of harm’s way.

Dave immediately called Triple A road service and was informed that because of the busy season, it might be some time before a truck could be dispatched to help us.

I quickly grabbed my cell phone, called my sister, and asked her to pray for us. Carole’s simple prayer for protection and help brought peace. Now we just needed to be patient and wait for the help we felt confident the Lord would send.

We didn’t have to wait long! After laying aside my cell phone, I looked into the rear view mirror and was surprised to see the truck that had just pulled behind us. A dark handsome young man with a full beard got out of the truck and immediately went to work. Within minutes the flat tire was removed and replaced with the spare one.

Delighted with such quick service, Dave reached to give the young man a tip;  and true to my husband’s friendly nature asked, What’s your name?”

My name is Joshua.

God bless you, Joshua.”

God bless you!” he answered, and before we knew it—the young man climbed into his truck and was gone.

As we pulled back onto the road, I reached for my phone. I could hardly wait to share the news with my sister.

Carole, he said his name is Joshua.”

Glenda, Joshua means Jesus!

Humbled, grateful and amazed; we sensed the Lord had sent a ministering angel to protect and help us on our continuing journey.


I share this Christmas past story, hoping to encourage you to pray when you  find yourself in a distressing situation. In need of rescue. In need of protection. In need of hope and help for your life’s journey. Who knows but if you too may receive a miraculous answer.

How could it be, my Kinsman Redeemer?
You left heaven’s splendor,
pierced through the cold darkness
of this world,
and came as a babe
on that night
so long ago.

You are the Eternal God who spoke
the world into being.
How could it be that you 
stooped to my level,
looked into my eyes and said,
“My Child I love you,
and it was for you I died.”

The Joy of Giving Thanks

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Enter His Gates with Thanksgiving
Psalm 100:4

Picture a little girl sitting all alone on an enbankment near her home, dutifully pouring over the words from her Bible, taking time to memorize Psalm 100. A favorite elementary teacher had given the assignment to complete during the Thanksiving Holiday. 

Today, I’m surprised my first memory of Thanksgiving isn’t about the feast and fellowship our family enjoyed that day. No, it isn’t about the food.

It’s all about Psalm 100.

Those words penned on paper, thousands of years ago by a shepherd boy named David, took root in my heart that day and started me on the pathway of knowing God.

Now in the winter season of my life, I still love to quote the psalm.  

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.
Serve the LORD with gladness.
Come before His presence with singing.
Know that the Lord, He is God. 
It is He that hath made us, and not we ourselves.
We are His people and the sheep of His pasture. 
Enter His gates with Thanksgiving and into His courts with praise.
Be thankful unto Him and bless His name. 
For the Lord is good. His mercy is everlasting
and His truth endures to all generations (Psalm 100 KJV).

What special memories of Thanksgivings past come to your mind today?

May your time with family and friends be especially blessed as you gather around the table to thank the Lord for His many blessings.

Happy Thanksgiving!