"Merry Christmas and

best wishes for your happiness in the New Year" (this is printed on the card)

(The rest of the card is handwritten.)

"To Mrs. Bowen

From Emily Reynolds Greever"

The above is the front of the card, a trifle smaller than a post card yet a trifle larger than a calling card. Mrs. Bowen is her maiden name and she's Dave's mother and Emily Reynolds Greever a friend from, I believe, the Burkes Garden Greevers.

The back of the card reads:

"She lives near. We never knew her until we moved into our present quarters. She captured us at once. I forget how. It seems we had always known her.

Friends you make for yourself. Neighbors are the gifts of God.

Our neighbor knows how to receive. It is a joy to give to her. She knows how to give. It is done with supreme tact. She lends and borrows in just the right spirit. She is not beautiful, she is charming. She is not pretty, she is lovely.

She is our neighbor."How absolutely delightful! To have received such a card, to have such wonderful things said about one. How many of us receive enough compliments, words of encouragement or just a smile and a warm hello? I found this card while looking through a book; just now, I can't remember the name of the book.

The world strives to tear us apart and a part from one another and from Him. The world strives to belittle us, say we're not good enough, pretty enough, thin enough or not something enough.

STOP! Take a deep breath and repeat after me, "He made me in His image, therefore I am enough." Oh, I'm not denying we have to work on our health or weight or eating habits, thought habits, what we watch and all sorts of things. We are not children of the universe; we're children of God. For the past few days, I've been struggling...yet again...with some old hurts, some words that were spoken about me that simply aren't true; lies, actually, that others chose to believe. Other Christians chose to say hurtful things and other Christians believed them. That hurts more. People could have come to me and asked but they chose not to. It hurt then and, sometimes, it still hurts. Then I put it into perspective. I'm not called to live their life, I'm called to live my life and I choose to live it in Christ. To be the best me I can be, to forgive them for hurting me, to forgive me for becoming weary in the remembering. I choose, again, to forgive them and to forgive me. Even though they have no idea, God knows and it still hurts, but less. The pain is being replaced by the love of Christ and I'm starting to feel whole again.

Being a Christian is difficult, sometimes downright hard. At least it is so for me; perhaps not for others, I don't know. Again, I remember that pesky Velveteen Rabbit. He asks, "what is real?" Real is Christ. Real is allowing Him to do His work in me. Real is being willing to lay aside me so others can see Him.

Blessings ~ Please God, give me the strength to do the work You have set before me. Amen ~