Pam Ford Davis
Sheep were resting in green pastures as Bethlehem’s baby lamb squirmed in a bed of straw. Residents of the small city were oblivious to the significance of a stable birth and blind to the baby’s future role as sacrificial lamb. Mary bound Him with swaddling clothes not sensing that in the future grave cloths would bind His lifeless body; yes, as God has always provided for faithful followers, He had provided the lamb.
“Isaac said, ‘The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?’ Abraham answered, ‘God Himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering my son (Genesis 22:7b-8a HCS).” Abraham, as father of future generations of faithful followers of God, spoke of the reality of God’s current power to meet his desperate need yet also prophetically proclaimed Jehovah as provider of the supreme sacrifice, His Son. Behold the Lamb! (John 1:29-34)
Pam Ford Davis
As a writer, I sometimes see or hear something and feel compelled to turn the truths into personal testimony. A painter wants to capture those emotions with brush and canvas; I turn to my computer keyboard and let my fingers paint the picture. Simple phrases or song titles are key ingredients for an article and I can hardly wait to stir them up.
An inspired writer shared that Home is where the heart is. A sentimentalist believed Wherever you hang your hat is home. We visualize a dad hanging his hat up as he enters the house after a hard day’s work. We can never escape the cries of fearful Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. She tearfully said, “There’s no place like home.”
Oh, There’s No Place Like Home For the Holidays. Perry Como’s rendition still wrings my heart each Christmas and I know I am not alone. We remember the old houses where we grew up, family, friends and the fun times we shared. Years and miles cannot separate us from home; they only serve to tighten the bonds.
“Home is always home.” A cousin penned this perception on my Christmas card and I instantly wowed! She is also a writer and we grew up in very small neighborhoods only a few miles apart. Both of us no longer live in those nestled areas; New York State is now only a state of mind. I will not plagiarize her statement; instead, I say, “Martha, you don’t know how right you are!”
Pam Ford Davis
“And what are your intentions, young man?” In days of old, a stern father met the beau of his daughter in a quaint parlor and quizzed him on his plans to provide for a wife. The younger male figure swallowed the lump in his throat and marked out a path of proper provision and a secure future for his betrothed. He stated his intentions and waited for word of the father’s blessings on the proposed marriage.
The joyous woman in Song of Solomon could not restrain her emotions as she revealed the intentions of the man of her dreams. “He brought me to the banqueting house, and his intention toward me was love (Song of Solomon 2:4 NRS).” He intended to express his lavish love for her as he provided a feast. She knew where he placed his affections and she delighted to be in his presence. His intentions were clear and she saw her own reflection as she gazed in his eyes.