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PROV’IDENCE, n. [L. providentia.]
1. The act of providing or preparing for future use or application. Providence for war is the best prevention of it. [Now little used.]
2. Foresight; timely care; particularly, active foresight, or foresight accompanied with the procurement of what is necessary for future use, or with suitable preparation. How many of the troubles and perplexities of life proceed from want of providence!
3. In theology, the care and superintendence which God exercises over his creatures. He that acknowledges a creation and denies a providence, involves himself in a palpable contradiction; for the same power which caused a thing to exist is necessary to continue its existence. Some persons admit a general providence,but deny a particular providence, not considering that a general providence consists of particulars. A belief in divine providence, is a source of great consolation to good men. By divine providence is often understood God himself.
4. Prudence in the management of one’s concerns or in private economy.
– From Noah Webster’s 1828 Dictionary
#3 is certainly my favorite of the four definitions, and I was witness to that kind of “particular providence” yesterday. It “just so happened” that I was given a sermon on CD on Monday night. I popped it into the CD player on my way to the grocery store yesterday morning, and was richly fed by our elder Tom’s exposition of John 11:1-46. That passage contains the story of Lazarus’ death and Jesus’ subsequent interactions with Mary and Martha (and later, Lazarus). The overriding theme of the sermon was that Jesus demonstrated perfect love and perfect authority 
in his actions and interactions concerning these three friends, and in his act of raising Lazarus . One thing that stuck with me is that the word used for Jesus’ grief at Lazarus’ tomb can also be used to mean anger or agitation. Some commentators suggest that Christ was righteously angry to see the effects of sin and death coming to bear on his close friend. Although He came to abolish that death, his friends felt the loss of their brother keenly and He wept with them.
The themes of the sermon came back to me as I visited Linda and her family in the afternoon. I was only there for a short time, but looking on Linda’s face, I was grieved and almost angry to see her still fighting for her life. I was angry at death to be torturing her so, and I longed for her to be free of her disease-ridden body…quickly. God granted her freedom from her mortal body in the evening. What a relief it must have been for her to go to her eternal home.
In so many ways, God’s perfect authority and love in unison were demonstrated through Linda’s life and death. In the way He provided this teaching for me yesterday, God’s perfect authority and love were demonstrated to me. Nothing is an accident.
“Some persons admit a general providence,but deny a particular providence, not considering that a general providence consists of particulars. A belief in divine providence, is a source of great consolation to good men.”
Linda went home to the Lord tonight. We will miss her but we are so happy for her.
Haste thee on from grace to glory,
Armed by faith, and winged by prayer.
Heaven’s eternal days before thee,
God’s own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission,
Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope shall change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.
She is finally praising face to face the One who made the birds, flowers, and people she loved so dearly.
Holy Sonnet X
by John Donne
by John Donne
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
Our brave friend Linda continues her battle with ovarian cancer. Please pray for her and the family.
Kelly and boys walking out of Food Lion.
Cashier: Ma’am? You forgot your groceries.
Kelly (blushing): Sorry, I try to just not forget the children.
This made me laugh…especially the speedometer!
Here’s my recipe for Chicken Enchiladas…
Chicken (for amount, see below)
1 C. chopped onion
1 clove garlic, minced
1 16-oz can diced tomatoes, undrained
1 8-oz can tomato sauce
1 4-oz can green chilies
1 t. cumin
1/2 t. oregano
1/2 t. salt
3 C. mexican cheese (I’ve used Colby Jack, Monterey Jack, or a mixture), divided use
1 1/2 C. sour cream, divided use
10-12 tortillas
Cook a buncha chicken. I usually do about 4 large breasts or the equivalent off of a cooked whole chicken. Shred the cooked meat.
Meanwhile, melt the butter in a large skillet and add onion and garlic. Saute for 3-5 minutes. Stir in undrained tomatoes and tomato sauce. Add chilies. Stir in cumin, oregano, and salt and simmer for about 30 minutes.
Spoon all but 1/2 C. of the sauce into a bowl and add the chicken, 2 cups of cheese, and 1 cup of sour cream. Mix thorougly.
Now comes the messy part.
To make the enchiladas, first place a tortilla flat in the sauce (still in the skillet and probably still hot, so watch your fingers!) and mush it around so the one (facedown) side is covered in sauce. Spoon about 1/2 C of filling into the tortilla, roll up, and place seam side down in a greased 9×13 pan. Line the enchiladas up so they’re touching each other. When all the filling is gone, or all the tortillas are gone (hopefully at the same time!), pour the sauce from the skillet over the top of the enchiladas and bake at 325 degrees for 20 minutes. Spread the remaining sour cream and cheese on top and bake for another 10 minutes.
I have also used less chicken and added black beans, rice, or both to fill up the enchiladas.
Mrs. Hannah Woodd and Rev. Basil Woodd
Rev. Basil Woodd was an influential member of the Church of England around the turn of the 19th century. He was raised by his mother, Hannah. His father died the January before his birth in August 1760.
The afflictive circumstance of her husband’s death, nevertheless, proved an eventual blessing, though conveyed in the disguise of woe. By one stroke her mind was severed from worldly prospects, and being rent from the love of the creature, she now began more anxiously to seek the knowledge and love of the Creator. She had from early life been of a devout turn of mind, a strict observer of moral duties, and the ritual of religion; but now, in the day of adversity, she was brought to deeper views of the depravity of her heart, and the need she stood in of a Savior. She perceived the insufficiency of her own righteousness, and the necessity of being born again.
Two friends who were influential at this time of crisis were Mrs. Wilberforce (I assumed Mrs. William Wilberforce, but the time is not right…he was married in 1797) and Mrs. Conyers, wife of Dr. Middleton Conyers. They brought to light the beauty of the Gospel for Hannah, and she found new joy in what had previously been merely a religious exercise.
Her son later said of her,
This is a subject on which, I hope, I shall never think without heartfelt gratitude to her and to God, who so favored me. The whole of her deportment was calculated to win my early attention to religion. I saw in her what it could do: — How happy! How cheerful! How humble! How holy! How lovely in life, and afterward in death! How full of mercy and good fruits, it could render the happy possessor!
What a wonderful reminder that we as mothers can train our children’s “palates” to savor the sweetness of a life lived for the Lord. We must go beyond mere training of little bodies in religious exercise to unlock little hearts. The best way to do this is to savor the Lord ourselves!
…is a popular after-dinner game here in our home. It involves an unnatural amount of silence while the boys and Daddy gather up every (soft) ball in the house. They then descend upon Mommy’s quiet solitude with screeches and pellet her with all the balls. It usually becomes “every man for himself” at that point.
Everybody put on your red…you too, Manny.Sorry for my recent diversion from this series. I have still been reading this book every Friday, but I have not been posting because the entries require more attention than a run-of-the-mill post.
Dr. Philip Doddridge and His Mother
Doddridge was born in June of 1702 and immediately presumed dead. It is not hard to imagine that he was presumed to be so; he was preceded by eighteen brothers, all of whom died in infancy. He did have one surviving sister. By God’s grace, someone in his mother’s birthing room noticed the baby showing a little bit of movement and so took greater care to revive him.
Before he could read, his mother taught him the whole history of the Old and New Testaments. “His parents were eminently pious, and his earliest years were by them consecrated to the acquisition of religious knowledge.”
During his school years, he excelled in the study of languages as well as theology, and at sixteen he was admitted as a member of the church. In his first year of school, he read sixty books in six months. After his schooling was complete, at the age of twenty-one, he assumed the post at Knibworth, which was a quiet, rural village.
In that retired and obscure village, there were no external objects to divert his attention from the pursuit of his studies, and his favorite authors; Richard Baxter, John Howe, and John Tillotson he read with frequency and attention. To his pastoral duties he was not, however, inattentive; but in religious conversations and visits of mercy he spent a suitable portion of his valuable time. His preaching was plain and practical; and while his mind was richly stored with knowledge, and his imagination was lively, he made all his talents subservient to the moral and religious improvement of the people committed to his care.
My reflections on this chapter are twofold. First, the perseverance shown by his mother in bearing twenty children though eighteen of them died is to be praised. Her hope in God allowed her to continue on even though she must have borne much heartache! And what a sweet gift she was given to enjoy her youngest child until she died during his years as a schoolboy.
Second, the author makes plain that Doddridge’s life was characterized by a complete devotion to God. Although he possessed the skills to become a great thinker and author — and indeed he was, as shown by his authorship of The Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul, a book that influenced Wilberforce, Newton, and Edwards — his faith was not bound in his mind only. It took hold deep in his heart. This was demonstrated by the care and concern he showed for his congregation and their devotion to God. This indicates that from his earliest years he saw that religion was not merely a “head pursuit,” but a change in life. His parents’ piety was certainly influential in this.
Oh Lord, make us parents who are not hypocritical, but demonstrate in our minds, hearts and habits our devotion to God and to other people!
You can read more about Philip Doddridge here.
