A peek inside my mind

Well, I told you that this blog was going to be a walk through my mind, so today thats just what you are going to get. Im going to tell you a little bit about what makes me tick. First of all, I am a SHE..Sidetracked Home Executive. I do tend to get very sidetracked. I have great intentions but tend to get distracted with this or that or the other thing. Usually I  find tv or the computer distracting me the most. I dont know if other women are this way, but I start a project, and then get distracted with another one and then end up usually not getting any of it completely finished. If I do get things completed, its because by some miracle I go from  task to task long enough that they all end up getting done. I am also what they call a discouraged perfectionist. This means that I have a perfectionists heart but when the inevitable happens and  things arent perfect, I get frustrated. I also can sometimes feel I have to control things, because growing up things were so much out of my control that now that I am an adult, I feel that now I can control it. God is graciously and patiently teaching me that its best to let Him control it. I wont lie, sometimes I still try to take the reigns. The last thing I wanted to share today is that I am a very sensitive, deeply reflective, and sometimes over emotional person. One of the reasons I started this blog, and one of the things I have found difficult about it, is that I often dont know how to bring out what I know is inside me. Thank you to for reading this blog and giving me a chance to outlet some of it.

Keepers of the Springs

Keepers of the Springs by Peter Marshall

Once upon a time, a certain town grew up at the foot of a mountain range. It was sheltered in the lee of the protecting heights, so that the wind that shuddered at the doors and flung handfuls of sleet against the window panes was a wind whose fury was spent. High up in the hills, a strange and quiet forest dweller took it upon himself to be the Keeper of the Springs. He patrolled the hills and wherever he found a spring, he cleaned its brown pool of silt and fallen leaves, of mud and mold and took away from the spring all foreign matter, so that the water which bubbled up through the sand ran down clean and cold and pure. It leaped sparkling over rocks and dropped joyously in crystal cascades until, swollen by other streams, it became a river of life to the busy town. Millwheels were whirled by its rush. Gardens were refreshed by its waters. Fountains threw it like diamonds into the air. Swans sailed on its limpid surface, and children laughed as they played on its banks in the sunshine.


But the City Council was a group of hard-headed, hard-boiled businessmen. They scanned the civic budget and found in it the salary of a Keeper of the Springs. Said the Keeper of the Purse: "Why should we pay this romance ranger? We never see him; he is not necessary to our town's work life. If we build a reservoir just above the town, we can dispense with his services and save his salary." Therefore, the City Council voted to dispense with the unnecessary cost of a Keeper of the Springs, and to build a cement reservoir.


So the Keeper of the Springs no longer visited the brown pools but watched from the heights while they built the reservoir. When it was finished, it soon filled up with water, to be sure, but the water did not seem to be the same. It did not seem to be as clean, and a green scum soon befouled its stagnant surface. There were constant troubles with the delicate machinery of the mills, for it was often clogged with slime, and the swans found another home above the town. At last, an epidemic raged, and the clammy, yellow fingers of sickness reached into every home in every street and lane.


The City Council met again. Sorrowfully, it faced the city's plight, and frankly it acknowledged the mistake of the dismissal of the Keeper of the Springs. They sought him out of his hermit hut high in the hills, and begged him to return to his former joyous labor. Gladly he agreed, and began once more to make his rounds. It was not long until pure water came lilting down under tunnels of ferns and mosses and to sparkle in the cleansed reservoir. Millwheels turned again as of old. Stenches disappeared. Sickness waned and convalescent children playing in the sun laughed again because the swans had come back.


Do not think me fanciful, too imaginiative or too extravagant in my language when I say that I think of women, and particularly of our mothers, as Keepers of the Springs. The phrase, while poetic, is true and descriptive. We feel its warmth...its softening influence...and however forgetful we have been...however much we have taken for granted life's precious gifts, we are conscious of wistful memories that surge out of the past--the sweet, tender, poignant fragrances of love. Nothing that has been said, nothing that could be said, or that ever will be said, would be eloquent enough, expressive enough, or adequate to make articulate that peculiar emotion we feel to our mothers. So I shall make my tribute a plea for Keepers of the Springs, who will be faithful to their tasks.


There never has been a time when there was a greater need for Keepers of the Springs, or when there were more polluted springs to be cleansed. If the home fails, the country is doomed. The breakdown of homelife and influence will mark the breakdown of the nation. If the Keepers of the Springs desert their posts or are unfaithful to their responsibilities, the future outlook of this country is black, indeed. This generation needs Keepers of the Springs who will be courageous enough to cleanse the springs that have been polluted. It is not an easy task--nor is it a popular one, but it must be done for the sake of the children, and the young women of today must do it.





It was nineteen hundred years ago "when Jesus Himself a baby deigned to be and bathed in baby tears His deity"...and on that night, when that tiny Child lay in the straw of Bethlehem, began the emancipation of womanhood.


When He grew up and began to teach the way of life, He ushered woman into a new place in human relations. He accorded her a new dignity and crowned her with a new glory, so that wherever the Christian evangel has gone for nineteen centuries, the daughters of Mary have been respected, revered, remembered, and loved, f or men have recognized that womanhood is a sacred and a noble thing, that women are of finer clay...are more in touch with the angels of God and have the noblest function that life affords. Wherever Christianity has spread, for nineteen hundred years men have bowed and adored.


It remained for the twentieth century, in the name of progress, in the name of tolerance, in the name of broadmindedness, in the name of freedom, to pull her down from her throne and try to make her like a man.


She wanted equality. For nineteen hundred years she had not been equal--she had been superior. But now, they said, she wanted equality, and in order to obtain it, she had to step down. And so it is, that in the name of broadminded tolerance, a man's vices have now become a woman's.


Twentieth-century tolerance has won for woman the right to become intoxicated, the right to have an alcoholic breath, the right to smoke, to work like a man to act like a man--for is she not man's equal? Today they call it "progress"...but tomorrow,oh, you Keepers of the Springs, they must be made to see that it is not progress.


No nation has ever made any progress in a downward direction. No people ever became great by lowering their standards. No people ever became good by adopting a looser morality. It is not progress when the moral tone is lower than it was. It is not progress when purity is not as sweet. It is not progress when womanhood has lost its fragrance. Whatever else it is, it is not progress!


We need Keepers of the Springs who will realize that what is socially correct may not be morally right. Our country needs today women who will lead us back to an old-fashioned morality, to an old fashioned decency, to an old fashioned purity and sweetness for the sake of the next generation, if for no other reason.


This generation has seen an entirely new type of womanhood emerge from the bewildering confusion of ourtime. We have in the United States today a higher standard of living than in any other country, or at any other time in the world's history. We have more automobiles, more picture shows, more telephones, more money, more swing bands, more radios, more television sets, more nightclubs, more crime, and more divorce than any other nation in the world. Modern mothers want their children to enjoy the advantages of this new day. They want them, if possible, to have a college diploma to hang on their bedroom wall, and what many of them regard as equally important--a bid to a fraternity or a sorority. They are desperately anxious that their daughters will be popular, although the price of this popularity may not be considered until it is too late. In short, they want their children to succeed, but the usual definition of success, in keeping with the trend of our day, is largely materialistic.


The result of all this is that the modern child is brought up in a decent, cultured, comfortable, but thoroughly irreligious home. All around us, living in the very shadow of our large churches and beautiful cathedrals, children are growing up without a particle of religious training or influence. The parents of such children have usually completely given up the search for religious moorings. At first, they probably had some sort of vague idealism as to what their children should be taught. They recall something of the religious instruction received when they were children, and they feel that something like that ought to be passed on to the children today, but they can't do it, because the simple truth is that they have nothing to give. Our modern broadmindedness has taken religious education out of the day schools. Our modern way of living and our modern irreligion have taken it out of the homes.


There remains only one place where it may be obtained, and that is in the Sunday School, but it is no longer fashionable to attend Sunday School. The result is that there is very little religious education, and parents who lack it themselves are not able to give it to their children--so it is a case of "the blind leading the blind," and both children and parents will almost invariably end up in the ditch of uncertainty and irreligion.


As you think of your own mother, remembering her with love and gratitude--in wishful yearning, or lonely longing, I am quite sure that the memories that warm and soften your heart are not at all like the memories the children of today will have... For you are, no doubt, remembering the smell of fresh starch in your mother's apron or the smell of a newly ironed blouse, the smell of newly baked bread, the fragrance of the violets she had pinned on her breast. It would be such a pity if all that one could remember would be the aroma of toasted tobacco or nicotine and the odor of beer on the breath!


The challenge of the twentieth-century motherhood is as old as motherhood itself. Although the average American mother has advantages that pioneer women never knew--material advantages: education, culture, advances made by science and medicine; although the modern mother knows a great deal more about sterilization, diets, health, calories, germs, drugs, medicines and vitamins, than her mother did, there is one subject about which she does not know as much--and that is God.


The modern challenge to motherhood is the eternal challenge--that of being a godly woman. The very phrase sounds strange in our ears. We never hear it now. We hear about every other kind of women--beautiful women, smart women, sophisticated women, career woman, talented women, divorced women, but so seldom do we hear of a godly woman--or of a godly man either, for that matter.


I believe women come nearer fulfilling their God-given function in the home than anywhere else. It is a much nobler thing to be a good wife than to be Miss America. It is a greater achievement to establish a Christian home than it is to produce a second-rate novel filled with filth. It is a far, far better thing in the realm of morals to be old-fashioned than to be ultramodern. The world has enough women who know how to hold their cocktails, who have lost all their illusions and their faith. The world has enough women who know how to be smart. It needs women who are willing to be simple. The world has enough women who know how to be brilliant. It needs some who will be brave. The world has enough women who are popular. It needs more who are pure. We need woman, and men, too, who would rather be morally right that socially correct.


Let us not fool ourselves--without Christianity, without Christian education, without the principles of Christ inculcated into young life, we are simply rearing pagans. Physically, they will be perfect. Intellectually, they will be brilliant. But spiritually, they will be pagan. Let us not fool ourselves. The school is making no attempt to teach the principles of Christ. The Church alone cannot do it. They can never be taught to a child unless the mother herself knows them and practices them every day.


If you have no prayer life yourself, it is rather a useless gesture to make your child say his prayers every night. If you never enter a church it is rather futile to send your child to Sunday school. If you make a practice of telling social lies, it will be difficult to teach your child to be truthful. If you say cutting things about your neighbors and about fellow members in the church, it will be hard for your child to learn the meaning of kindness.


The twentieth-century challenge to motherhood--when it is all boiled down--is that mothers will have an experience of God...a reality which they can pass on to their children. For the newest of the sciences is beginning to realize, after a study of the teachings of Christ from the standpoint of psychology, that only as human beings discover and follow these inexorable spiritual laws will they find the happiness and contentment which we all seek.


A minister tells of going to a hospital to visit a mother whose first child had been born. She was a distinctly modern girl. Her home was about average for young married people. "When I came into the room she was propped up in bed writing. 'Come in,' she said, smiling. 'I'm in the midst of housecleaning, and I want your help.' I had never heard of a woman housecleaning while in a hospital bed. Her smile was contagious--she seemed to have found a new and jolly idea. "'I've had a wonderful chance to think here,' she began, 'and it may help me to get things straightened out in my mind if I can talk to you.' She put down her pencil and pad, and folded her hands. Then she took a long breath and started: 'Ever since I was a little girl, I hated any sort of restraint. I always wanted to be free. When I finished high school, I took a business course and got a job--not because I needed the money--but because I wanted to be on my own. Before Joe and I were married, we used to say that we would not be slaves to each other. And after we married, our apartment became headquarters for a crowd just like us. We weren't really bad--but we did just what we pleased.' She stopped for a minute and smiled ruefully. 'God didn't mean much to us--we ignored Him. None of us wanted children--or we thought we didn't. And when I knew I was going to have a baby, I was afraid.' She stopped again and looked puzzled. 'Isn't it funny, the things you used to think? She had almost forgotten I was there--she was speaking to the old girl she had been before her great adventure. Then remembering me suddenly--she went on: 'Where was I? Oh, yes, well, things are different now. I'm not free any more and I don't want to be. And the first thing I must do is to clean house.' Here she picked up the sheet of paper lying on the counterpane. 'That's my housecleaning list. You see, when I take Betty home from the hospital with me--our apartment will be her home--not just mine and Joe's. And it isn't fit for her now. Certain things will have to go--for Betty's sake. And I've got to houseclean my heart and mind. I'm not just myself--I'm Betty's mother. And that means I need God. I can't do my job without Him. Won't you pray for Betty and me and Joe, and for our new home?' And I saw in her all the mothers of today--mothers in tiny apartments and on lonely farms...Mothers in great houses and in suburban cottages, who are meeting the age-old challenge--' that of bringing up their children to the love and knowledge of God.' And I seemed to see our Savior--with His arms full of children of far-away Judea--saying to that mother and to all mothers--the old invitation so much needed in these times: 'Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God.'"


I believe that this generation of young people has courage enough to face the challenging future. I believe that their idealism is not dead. I believe that they have the same bravery and the same devotion to the things worthwhile that their grandmothers had. I have every confidence that they are anxious to preserve the best of our heritage, and God knows if we lose it here in this country, it is forever gone. I believe that the women of today will not be unmindful of their responsibilities; that is why I have dared to speak so honestly. Keepers of the Springs, we salute you!


Our Father, remove from us the sophistication of our age and the skepticism that has come, like frost, to blight our faith and to make it weak. We pray for a return of that simple faith, that old fashioned trust in God, that made strong and great the homes of our ancestors who built this good land and who in building left us our heritage. In the strong name of Jesus, our Lord, we make this prayer, Amen.


Peter Marshall was the U.S. Senate Chaplain from 1946-48 during the presidency of Harry Truman, and died in 1949. He was born in Scotland and was known for his passionate preaching and deep conviction, as well as his picturesque speech. 

Be still and know....

Ok, Im going to bare my soul a little today. I told you that we dont have children and that I would be talking more about that later. Today that is what I want to talk about. Last week we got yet another disappointment in the baby department. I wont go into detail on all that now, but suffice it to say that I am really struggling emotionally with everything right now. Today I went to pray and just really didnt even know what to say. Im just kind of numb right now. Anyway, what God spoke to me in that moment was profound. What he said was that I dont have to say anything. He said just to be quiet and be with Him. The verse that came to mind is Psalm 46:10  Be still, and know that I am God.."  Also Romans 8:26  Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.  In the times where we dont even know what to pray, The Spirit does the speaking for us, and takes our needs before the Father when we cant even find the words to express them.

Our High Priest

Sorry I have been AWOL for a while. I hope to get back into it and post something everyday. I cant promise anything though :) Anyway, the thoughts I want to share today have been on my mind for a while. I am so thankful that Jesus is our High Priest. When He died on the cross the veil of the temple was torn in two. This veil was a very thick, strong curtain, that was for all intents and purposes a wall. It separated the Holy place from the Holy of Holies. This was a place where God met with the High Priest. Only the High Priest was allowed in there, and if he wasnt clean and pure to God's specific standards, he would die instantly. This is because God cannot allow sin in His presence. The significance of this veil being torn in two at Jesus' death was that there was no longer any separation between God and man. We could now God directly to Him ourselves, with Jesus being our High Priest, that offered the final sacrifice that was ever needed. There are those out there that still believe that we need priests, but I, for one am glad that I can go directly to my heavenly Father. 1Timothy 2:5 says "For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus"

Where Has the Decency Gone?

What is on my heart today is this: what has happened to us? Where did our sense of decency go? There was a day where is was considered riskee for a woman to even show her ankle, and today so many women run around in public wearing little more than underwear.  In the early days of tv you had wholesome family shows like Andy Griffith and I love Lucy, just to name a couple. Now there is barely even anything censored anymore. Shows like Desperate Housewives are popular. Even people who were not churchgoers were still decent, moral people. Today many Christians do things that would not even be thought of just a few generations ago. I just wonder what happened to us. How did we get to the point we are? I dont have a lot to say today, but thats what was on my heart.

Lessons From Nature

I pray about what I should share, and this is what God gave me today:

    Today I was working in my flower beds, planting some beautiful fall mums and getting the bed ready for the winter. God impressed a couple things on my heart. One is this verse:  Hosea 10:12  Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground: for it is time to seek the LORD, till he come and rain righteousness upon you. As I was breaking up the ground in the flower beds, getting the dirt all fertile and ready for the plants, I thought of this verse and how our heart should be just like that ground. It should be a fertile place where God's Word can take root and grow and flourish and bring forth fruit. I thought back to the time when I first came to Christ and I just could wait for the next sermon to hear what God was going to tell me. I was so in love with Him I could get enough of Him or do enough for Him. I thought about how over the years I lost that childlike enthusiasm and zeal, and how it had come to the point where sometimes it was a drudgery to do anything for God. Lord, may my heart once again become that fertile soil where your Word can blossom. The other thought that came to me was how absurd it is that anyone can look at this world around us and believe it just all happened by accident. Look at the beautiful flowers and and all the amazing animals and the breathtaking sights there are all over the world. Even look at our own human body and how all the different systems work together to keep it going. One doesnt have to look very hard at all to see that there must be a magnificent Creator that designed this world. Well, those are my thoughts for today...We will see what God has in store for tomorrow. 

I Go to Prepare a Place For You

Today I want to share some thoughts from church on Sunday. The pastor's message was on the thought where Jesus said "I go to prepare a place for you" and he went to several different passages that talk about heaven. The bulk of it was in revelation. As, he talked, I saw heaven in a way that I never have before. You see, I am a perfectionist. More specifically a discouraged perfectionist. This means that I want everything to be perfect but obviously in this world, it cant be, so then I get discouraged. So thinking of heaven from this perspective was amazing. All my fellow perfectionists will appreciate this. Just think...in heaven, there will be no dirt, no dust, no cobwebs, no stains. Nothing will ever break. Nothing will every rust or wear out. In heaven there will only be the finest, purest gold, silver, pearls, and precious stones. Scripture tells us that there will be a street made of gold, so fine that it shines like glass. We may have to live temporarily in this fallen, corrupted world, but if we have trusted Christ as our Saviour, He is preparing for us a perfect place where there is no corruption, only pure beauty.

Welcome

Welcome to my blog. My name is Erica Meyer, and this blog will be a walk through my mind. I will share things that I think about, and whats going on in my life. First of all, let me introduce myself. I am 30 yrs old. My husband is John Meyer. He is 36. We have been married 7 wonderful years. He is an amazing Christian man, who loves God and loves me. We dont have any children yet. That is a long story in itself, and you will hear much more about that in the days, weeks, and months to come. Thank you for reading my blog, and I hope it will be a blessing and encouragement to you in some way.