Fragments of Gold
Standing knee deep in muddy water, the old woman laughed and motioned for Stephen to come look. Her pinky finger was extended, and on the tip was a barely-visible, glittering crumb of gold. She was excited; her efforts had been rewarded. Stephen, however, was inspired: if this old woman could labor day in and day out for a few small flecks of gold, gladly bearing the toil, heat, and back breaking work, how much more should we eagerly be about the Father's business of gathering the fragments of lives – soul miners rather than gold miners – laboring for the love of Christ.
When we first moved to Sierra Leone in November of 2009, our daughter asked me to keep a journal, something which I had never done before. I was surprised at how quickly they filled up! I now keep three separate journals: one for the lessons and insights I have gained from my years in Sierra Leone’s culture (Until the Shadows Flee Away); the second for personal lessons gained during my daily Bible reading and study (Meditations from the Morning Watch); and the third is my madcap chronicle from daily life (Letters to My Friends). These precious insights, gleaned from the ordinary as well as the unusual events of my life as a missionary wife, are fragments of gold; treasures given from the Lord.
Now that I am Stateside due to the collapse of my health, my journals have even more meaning to me as I can look back and see how the Lord is refining my faith. Laughter and tears, joys and fears, successes and failures, which otherwise would be forgotten or blurred by time, are kept for my learning and sharing. And I continue to keep my journal.
Please come and join me in the journey of a soul, as together we gather Fragments of Gold.
Current Blog Articles
The disciples were downcast. Because their expectation wasn’t met in the manner which they thought it should have been, they totally missed the better thing, the bigger purpose which the Lord had for them. As I wrote some notes in my Bible reading journal, I had to stop and consider if perhaps I was also missing the purpose of something in my own life . . .Read More
The Gima Circuit – just one scattered cluster of remote villages far from the well-traveled road. Tiny forgotten pockets of humanity; souls for whom Christ died. Forgotten by man perhaps, but never by a loving heavenly Father who desires to have restored fellowship.Read More