SOME DAY… (Part 1)

July 18, 2012 2:47 pm Published by Leave your thoughts

“Some day I’ll start blogging, someday.”

“Yeah, I’ll get to blogging…some day.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it for awhile. I promise I’ll get going…some day.”

Well, guess what, friends. I’ve decided that I’ll change “some day” to TODAY.

Let me start out by saying I’m 74 years old and didn’t grow up with computers, not even television. No, I don’t go back as far as the days of quill and pen—just fountain pens. And when my husband and I started our translation project in Papua New Guinea in 1969, that was pre-computer days. We used a portable typewriter and wrote words in phonetic script on 3×5 cards. In the evenings I sat beside our cast iron stove, alphabetized the cards and stored them in a shoe box. Our Nabak-English dictionary. Woe be to anyone who tipped over the shoe box! So all that to say I’m expecting all of you to applaud me for making this quantum leap to this blogging generation.

Gorgeous puzzle bags that matched my theme.

So much happens in my life (both my outside life and my inner life) that there’s no shortage of ideas of what to write about. Like, hear what I did last month. I spoke at a ladies retreat in Westminster, Maryland. We had a beautiful time together talking about the Puzzles of Life. I loved being in the Snell home, and Inky had made these adorable bags for each of us with a journal inside. The bags were made of fabric that looked like a jigsaw puzzle. God’s Spirit hovered over us during our day together.

From the feedback I know that that the ladies were encouraged. I know I was. One lady asked if she could take me home with her. Well, no. But isn’t that the wonderful thing about the Holy Spirit. We can take Him home with us.

I stayed overnight and Sunday morning I was invited to speak to one of the children’s Sunday School classes. It’s one of my favorite things to do. At the close of the class I rolled out a computer printout listing all the names of the Bibleless people groups in the world. When I said, “These people don’t have a single verse of Scripture in their language,” one little girl’s hand went to her mouth. I could hear a gasp and saw the pained expression on her face. The children and I knelt beside the list and each child put his/her finger at a particular tribal name. We prayed for God to send someone to translate the Bible for them. I’m always aware when I’m speaking to children that perhaps one of those very children will be the translator for the very last language group to be reached with God’s Word.

Isaac with Grandma's Guitar Quilt

Then the next week-end I attended my oldest grandson’s graduation from high school (June 8). I gave Isaac a quilt I made for him. It’s a black and white strata deign with a red guitar which I appliquéd on it. “Cool,” he said. Here’s a photo for those of you who are interested. Those of you who don’t know what a quilt is—well see me later. I’ll try to explain.

Isaac is a gem and I was so proud when he won the history award and the male vocal award. He also spoke to his classmates about the seeds that had been planted in their lives at this Christian school and he challenged everyone to get rid of anything that would stand in the way of that seed bringing forth abundant fruit. Please pray for Isaac as he takes his first year classes from Moody Bible Institute online.

Then the next day (9th) I was off to Binghamton, New York (164 miles) staying overnight with my dear friend Judi Clarke, sleeping on her new couch and chatting with her and her cockatiel. He says, “Where’s Judi?” and “B-I-B-L-E”.

Early Sunday morning I left Judi’s to go to Otego, New York to give my testimony at the Unatego Community Church. Many in the church did not know that I was an Otego girl—graduated from Otego Central School, lived in the parsonage of Otego Christian Church, that my parents are buried right there in Evergreen Cemetery.

I felt very much at home in that beautiful church.

From Otego I drove on north to visit my sister, Kathryn. It was her 81st birthday. We went to the Logjam restaurant to celebrate. If you’ve never had an Adirondack Log for dessert, you don’t know what you’re missing. It was fun to join the ladies Bible study in her home on Tuesday morning (June 12th). Our topic of discussion was about the role of the Holy Spirit in the Old Testament and what it means for us, since Pentecost, to be indwelt by the Holy Spirit. The big question is, “Are we controlled (filled) by the Spirit or do we just go blissfully on our way oblivious to His presence?”

I drove the 300 miles from Kathryn’s home in Queensbury, NY to my home in Douglassville, PA that same day. There wasn’t much time to put up my feet because I had major preparations for being missionary of the week at a V.B.S. at Otego Christian Church.  So I dusted off my snake story, my bow and arrows, counted out choc chips for a contest (they grow cocoa in Papua New Guinea) and whipped up the week’s program.

On my way to the V.B.S. in Otego, NY (220 miles) on the 23rd I traveled on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. As I drive I often turn my car into a little sanctuary—singing, praying aloud, memorizing Scripture or listening to Christian radio. Imagine me clipping along in the slower (neither lane is slow on the Turnpike) of the two lanes (with my cruise control set at 65). I’m minding my own business when all of a sudden a car came at me from the opposite direction! We missed each other by inches.

Don’t ask me how they got on the Turnpike going the wrong direction. Were they fleeing the police? In a stolen car? On drugs or what? I didn’t even have time to toot my horn as we whizzed past each other. Now that’s a very creepy feeling, believe me. When I stopped shaking all I could say was, “Thank you, Jesus, Thank you, Jesus.”

I was going to include my final week of June at V.B.S. in this blog but 1,147 words is enough. And cars going the wrong way on the Turnpike is more than enough excitement, don’t you think? Join me next time for blog #2 as I report doing missions with kids at V.B.S. Meanwhile, I hope you’re headed the right direction.

My daughter just reminded me, “You know, Mom, now that you’re blogging, you need to get on Facebook. “ All I can say is “Yeah, some day.”

(Pics of women’s retreat taken by Inky Snell)

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This post was written by Grace Fabian

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Grace Fabian