By Marie Coutu

We made a trip back to western Kentucky recently to finish cleaning out the house following my mother's recent death.

The sense of melancholy was strong as I walked the neighborhood streets for the last time, slept in the house one final time, decided on items to be discarded, and wondered when the next time might be to visit my old hometown.

I only lived in that specific house for my last two years of high school and summers during college. But during the next forty years, as my husband and I moved halfway across the country three times and lived in nine different houses, the knowledge that my parents remained in the same house provided stability, a foundation I could always count on.

I still have a sister and an aunt who live in that town, so I know I'll be back but the visits will be less often and less like going "home."

During my pondering, I turned on the radio and smiled when I heard the old song that was playing--"Ain't Gonna Need This House No Longer."

Mother and Daddy no longer need that house, and neither does anyone else in the family. 

And we know that someday we will join them once again in our heavenly home. That confidence and hope eases the sadness that comes with saying "good-bye" to that earthly home.

Honoring Mother

To Elizabeth Gray Wells

Oct. 28, 1911-Sept. 29, 2012

Blessed were you, Mother, for you did not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers.

But your delight was in the law of the Lord, and on his law you meditated day and night.

You were like a tree planted by streams of water, which yielded its fruit in season and whose leaf did not wither.


Whatever you did prospered.

For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous.

Your husband had full confidence in you and lacked nothing of value.

You brought him good, not harm, all the days of your life.

You were clothed in strength and dignity; you laughed at the days to come.

You spoke with wisdom, and faithful instruction was on your tongue.

You watched over the affairs of your household and did not eat the bread of idleness.

Many women do noble things, but you surpassed them all.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

(Adapted from Psalm 1, Proverbs 31)

By Marie Wells Coutu

While driving to Kentucky for my mother's funeral a few days ago, many memories and thoughts swirled in my head.

She would have been 101 in 30 days. Our family has been blessed to have her with us long as we did. And we are grateful to know that she is now in the arms of Jesus, and with Daddy, who went on ahead of her seven years ago.

My sister said, "I can see Daddy with his lopsided grin saying to her, 'It's about time you got here.'"

For her 100th birthday last year, we held a huge celebration. As a family, we had talked of having another party this year, though on a smaller scale. We even hoped she could be made an honorary member of the 101st Airborne Battalion at nearby Fort Campbell, as her mother had been when she turned 101.

But now, after a slow decline over the past few months and a difficult two weeks, she was no longer with us.

As I drove, I listened to a novel on audio, and one of the characters said, "God's plans don't always make sense to us, but that's when we learn to trust."

As I pondered that, I realized that it not only summed up the current situation, but also the way Mother lived her life. Her faith and the way she raised us reflected Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

While our plans were not God's plans for Mother, we know that she has a future with Him. And until we see her again, we trust in God's plans.

by Susan Tuttle

The Lord remembers us and will bless us. Psalm 115:12

I recently read Hannah’s story out of 1 Samuel. She was a barren woman, and I cannot even begin to imagine her pain. In that day and age not bearing children made her an outcast, and though her husband loved her dearly, it was a burden she could not escape. It didn’t help that his other wife, Peninnah, taunted her. Hannah could not escape the sadness of her empty womb, and she made herself sick over it.

Hannah had to wonder where God was. She prayed for a child, and yet year after year she remained childless. Year after year Peninnah reminded her that she had children and Hannah did not. Year after year there remained silence from God.

I think sometimes, in that silence, we stop craving the one thing we desire and begin to crave God’s voice. We want to know he sees us. We want his presence even more than the one thing we are missing. That thing no longer is our idol and our eyes shift to God. Our heart becomes consumed with one thought, “Lord, have you forgotten me?”

Hannah had this moment. Where what she wanted was eclipsed by wanting to know God had not forgotten her. Listen to her prayer:

“Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the LORD for all the days of his life…” (v.11)

See, opening her womb became the sign that she wasn’t forgotten. It was no longer about having a child. No, she simply wanted the assurance that God remembered her. He could have the child, only look on her with favor and show her he hadn’t forgotten her. That mattered more. And God heard her and after what must have felt like an eternity to Hannah, "God remembered her. So in the course of time Hannah became pregnant and gave birth to a son." (vs.19-20)

Beloved, just like Hannah, God sees you. He hears you. His silence does not mean you are forgotten. He’s at work. I cannot promise the answer will be what you want it to be or even when you want it, but I can promise this: he is the God who sees you, El Roi, and he remembers you.


***reposted from my blog, Steps***

By Marie Wells Coutu

Some people listen to music, some read, others play games on their tablet computers or watch a movie on a DVD player.

Then there are those few of us who write.

But as much as I'd like to work on my novel en route to the American Fiction Writers Conference, I find it difficult to focus with all the activity going on. There's the soldier across the aisle listening to music (which I can hear despite his earbuds) and playing electronic solitaire. The guy next to me is playing Sodoku on his iPad, and the little boy behind me is talking, as 2-year-olds are wont to do.

How can I think about my own plot and characters when so many other interesting characters and conversations swirl around me?

Then I wonder, how does God focus on my prayers, my needs, while at the same time hearing and answering billions of other prayers all over the world? I guess that's why He is God and I am not.

And that makes my day.

I have called on you because you answer me, O God.turn your ear toward me. Hear what I have to say. (Psalm 17:6 GWT)

By Marie Wells Coutu

The first verses of the Bible tell us that when God spoke, He created.

He said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

If you or I walk into a dark room and say, “Let there be light,” nothing will happen. We don’t have the power or the authority to create light. But God does.

Unless we flip the switch—or someone else does it for us—we will not get light. And unless there is a power source behind the switch, we will remain in the dark.

But when God speaks, things happen.

He spoke, and He created you. He spoke your children into existence. He spoke the world into existence.

The Hebrew word for the verb “to create” never has a human subject. The Jewish people understood that creation is a work that is unique to God. We can take the talents He gives us and the substances He has created and make new objects, but only He can create something from nothing.

The Gospel of John tells us:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:1-5, NIV)

If God’s Word is that powerful, shouldn’t we pay attention?