Confined in Spring
Lord, how can I complain when I’m confined in Spring?
When a chateau sits in my backyard
When snow white calla lilies curl towards the sun
And lilacs bloom and tulips tilt their crimson heads
And butterflies, like wind, like Spirit, flit to who-knows-where?
When everything outside proclaims this simple truth:
Life wins!
So may I not complain, dear Lord, but pray
Oh, yes, for all the dark and death that hovers ‘round
And pierces hearts and souls with fear and dread
Oh, may I pray with bended knee
And bowed head
That in the midst of this wild frantic thing
The fragrance of Your peace will come
And fill the fear with hope
With courage and compassion
May that sweet aroma of life
Whisper in such a fierce, victorious way,
That many will turn an ear to hear
And listen, really listen,
To the whisper of the wind–
To the Spirit’s tug upon a heart–
And wonder if…
If perhaps that age old Easter story
Might be true
And, bending to inhale the hope of cherry blossoms,
Believe.
May we pray and praise, hope and give, live and love, and most of all, believe.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her blog.
+Ten days ago, on Saturday, March 29, my laptop died. Perched on the lounge chair admiring blooming tulips in the sunshine, I was delightedly finishing up the very final edits of my new novel, The Promised Land. I closed the laptop, brought it inside, and went about my day. A few hours later, I opened the laptop, preparing to Skype with my brother and sister-in-law.
The computer wouldn’t turn on. The screen remained black. No sign of life at all. I’d received no dire warning or error message, no flashing screen or power shortage. It just died.
And nothing we tried in the next days could bring it back to life. Its pure black screen continued to stare back at me. Dead.
In the midst of so much else dying, precious human beings as well as the economy—businesses , restaurants, etc—this ‘death’ seemed grossly insignificant. And it was. To everyone but me.
My laptop is the way I work: I write on it, I connect via video calls with missionaries and family, and now, with the coronavirus and confinement, I connect to everyone and everything else on it.
But it was dead.
To add to the frustration, I had not backed up many of my files in months. Months. Normally I am so careful, but the last five months in the US had been so full, and I had neglected to back up many things.
We talked to my father’s ‘computer guy’ as well as our sons and my brothers, all smart and savvy techies. Finally, at their suggestion, we ordered tools from Amazon so that Paul could remove the back of the computer and get to the hard drive. The piece would arrive in 5 days. (I was actually amazed that anything was still being delivered).
So I limped through the week, waiting for the tools to arrive and frustrated with myself. Yet, I was also so thankful that 1) I could use one of Paul’s very old and very slow computers and 2) this was my major problem when much of the world was facing a much more frightening crisis.
But it was complicated and frustrating and day after day, I had to confess the chaos it was putting me through. I battled off guilt that my problem was simply a dead computer. I spent many moments praying for my attitude as the computer’s death was influencing so much else in my life.
I believe there are many battles in the heavenlies that we don’t see. And I believe during this pandemic that Satan will tempt us with normal life inconveniences that can grow in importance in our minds because of our present situation.
The tools we’d ordered arrived this past Saturday, a week after my computer’s demise.
I was once again sitting out in the beautiful spring weather, on the lounge chair, admiring the host of yellow, orange, and red tulips as well as the snow white calla lilies who were showing off in the sun. This time, I was reading a book.
Paul called to me, “Can you come in here a sec?”
It was odd the way he said it. Like he had a surprise for me. I knew he couldn’t have gotten me flowers because all the stores were closed. But his voice…
So I laid down the novel and walked inside and he pointed to the den. It looked just like it had looked a little while ago when I left it. Except…on further inspection, there sat my laptop, my dead laptop, with a lit-up screen and a photo across it.
I gasped. Paul shook his head. “I was getting ready to open up the back with the new tools, when I thought I’d just press the start button one more time. And voila!”
I cried. Then I knelt and thanked God.
During this holy week, where we are confined in our bodies but not our spirits, my spirit cries out again with awe and longing and joy. Hosanna to a God who can raise the dead, but who can also, much less importantly, but no less personally, raise a dead computer.
An early resurrection. In preparation for the real thing.
In preparation for YOU, Lord.
And what is my response? An overwhelming ‘Thank You’, a bowing of the head, a bending of the knee, an acknowledgement that I deserve nothing. None of us do. And yet You give, You surprise, You provide.
You provide in the middle of a pandemic in amazingly small and personal ways.
And if You can raise a computer from the dead on one extreme end of the spectrum and raise Your Son from the dead, at the other extremity, defeating death itself in that Holy Resurrection, I believe, I know, You will provide all that we need to survive this pandemic with our spirits and souls intact. Much better than simply intact.
As we press into Who You are, as we humble ourselves before You, Lord, and walk with You through all the horror and hope of this Holy Week, we will not just survive. We will thrive way down in the depths of our souls.
And our lives will testify that Jesus is able to love, forgive, and provide for us in spite of anything that life on earth hurls at us, whether it’s a deadly virus or a dead computer or any and everything in between.
Easter proclaims that You win, Lord. You win!
May we prepare our hearts this week for the real thing, Jesus, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who dies and who lives again.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her blog.
I wrote this poem several years ago now (when our sweet dog was still alive), but it still communicates my heart.
I gave up chocolate for Lent
And thought it would be hard
But actually I spent
No time grieving the loss
At all
Gave up movies on TV
Which consumed an evening that could
Otherwise be spent
On something deeper for the soul
A book, a conversation with my son
A sunset observed
A scrapbook done
Gave up these things to You
Not for themselves, but simply because
I felt I wanted to
You know, Lord,
My sacrifices are so few
And as I gave, I tried,
I try
To think of all You gave
And why
And Praise You for the gift
I think ‘What if
You never gave?’
How then, my soul, could you be saved?
And giving all
You brought new life
As I contemplate
This great
Act of giving
I am struck by all that is living
Just outside my window here
A daffodil
Peeks its yellow sprout
Out
And shakes its head
A hyacinth, all purple splendor
Blooms fragrant just beyond the window
And birds, all kinds, are flocking to the yard
In search of seed or worm
Our rusty mutt runs circles hard
And fast
And barks as wind and cars go past
And fish, all sizes, black and gold
Swim lazily beneath the surface
Of the pond that was frozen over
Only days ago.
All has thawed
And so my soul, too,
Is warming up again to You
~Elizabeth Musser, March 2012
How is your heart warming up to the Lord in the midst of this crisis?
From the author of The Swan House, a classic in the South, comes the continuing story of the Middleton-Bartholomew family.
You’d be surprised at what can get through to you when everything else is taken away.
Four pilgrims on a journey toward change…
With her oldest son, Bobby, taking a gap year in Europe, her aging father losing his sight and his memory, and her husband of twenty years announcing that he’s leaving her, Abbie Bartholomew Jowett is surrounded by overwhelming loss.
Bobby’s first assignment is in Austria at a ministry center for refugees where he meets Rasa, a beautiful Iranian and former refugee working in secret to help other refugees. For idealistic Bobby, it is love at first sight. On the spur of the moment, he invites Rasa to join him on the famed French Camino.
Disapproving of Bobby’s choice and desperate to mend her marriage and herself, Abbie follows Bobby to France. During their journey they encounter Caroline, a young journalist who is studying pilgrims on the Camino while searching for answers from her broken past.
They each have their own reasons for the pilgrimage, but together Abbie, Bobby, Rasa, and Caroline learn that the Camino strips you bare and calls you into deep soul-searching that can threaten all your best laid plans.
Available November 3, 2020!
Preorder Now!
Endorsements for The Promised Land (coming November, 2020)
Book 3 in The Swan House Series
Elizabeth Musser steals our hearts again. With prose that carries us to the edge of our soul, The Promised Land follows three pilgrims whose lives intersect on the famed Camino, asking the important questions — When do we let go of our best laid plans to discover a bigger and richer life? Who do we become when everything has been taken away? With a dash of mystery and a tremendous depth, Musser fills the lush landscape of The Promised Land with vivid characters and masterful storytelling. ~ Patti Callahan, Bestselling Author of Becoming Mrs. Lewis
The Promised Land is a captivating tale of pilgrimage, not only along the rigorous way of the Camino, but through an equally rigorous exploration of the soul. Through the journeys of four broken and wounded pilgrims, Elizabeth Musser expertly navigates the complex landscape of captivity and loss, while pointing the way to redemption and hope. ~ Sharon Garlough Brown, Author of the Sensible Shoes Series
What an intriguing journey Elizabeth Musser has taken us on in The Promised Land! She painted, with words, such evocative images, tastes, smells, and sounds that I felt as if I’d walked my own Camino pilgrimage along with Abbie, Bobby, and Caro. This engrossing, beautiful story kept me guessing through smiles and tears and did not disappoint in the end. ~ Deborah Raney, author of The Chandler Sisters Novels and A Nest of Sparrows
Elizabeth Musser’s novel, The Promised Land, transported me on two very memorable journeys. First, I savored the sights, smells, and tastes of France as I hiked the Camino with her four unique characters. Second, was the touching journey of spiritual transformation these four pilgrims uncovered on their trek. So satisfying! ~ Lynn Austin, author of If I Were You
She came on a day already rife with paradox:
~the first day of spring; the next day of a seemingly never ending lockdown because of coronavirus
~the beauty of our yard, all yellows and whites and purples as forsythia and daffodils and hyacinths are in full bloom; the lingering grief as we remember this day, the 4th anniversary of my mother’s homegoing.
And her birth was not without complications: at 10 am our time, 5 in the morning in Chattanooga, Lacy’s water broke, meaning she’d need to deliver within 24 hours. But she was having no contractions. And there were other concerns, not the least being the total lockdown during the coronavirus.
Paul and I did what we could, sequestered at home in France: we prayed, we sent word to family and friends near and far to pray, we wrote words of encouragement, and then…we waited and waited and waited, all the while praying and trying to find things to keep our hearts and minds from worry.
At midnight, we turned out our lights but not our prayers; at 2 a.m. we received word that Lacy’s labor was finally kicking in. And at 4:30 a.m. we received the joyful news that little Lena had been born, that she was healthy as was Lacy.
We rejoiced and cried.
Precious little Lena came into a world of uncertainty and fear. But her birth brings such great joy, a delightful ‘yes!’ to the way life wins over death, love wins over fear and destruction.
Almost thirty years ago, I wrote the following poem as I held my own newborn baby in my arms and listened to the news of impending war. My prayer for my son is again the same prayer for my granddaughter, Lord. That she will know You and love You and trust You no matter what life and the world send her way.
WAR WITHIN MY SOUL
(Battle Song for Christopher)
Yesterday they bombed the Middle East.
You didn't seem to notice in the least,
Snuggled in my arms,
Oblivious to harm,
Precious baby at my breast,
Blissful innocence at rest.
But there's a war in my soul that rages
Wondering what, my son, this world will hold for you.
Sometimes I'd like to rewrite history's pages
To make sure all your dreams will come true.
Today I spoke of Jesus to a friend.
She listened as she tried to comprehend.
May you find our home a place
Where others come to know His grace,
And observing, may you then
Bow your knee and turn to Him.
And there's a war in my soul that rages.
It's a battle that's existed from time's start.
But our General has been faithful through the ages
To win the victory in each Pilgrim's heart.
Tomorrow you'll be toddling on your own;
Another blink, a little boy half grown,
Toy soldiers, plastic guns,
Fighting phantoms as time runs.
But I wonder how you'll feel
When the Enemy is real.
If there's a war in your soul that rages,
I pray, my son, you'll be prepared to fight
With the weapons He provides when war wages
Between armies of the Darkness and the Light.
He calms the war in my soul that rages,
Reminding me His battle plan is sure.
He will be faithful through all life's stages
As I present you, little one,
Before the royal throne
Of the Warrior Who is holy and pure.
This poem was inspired by my tiny son, the tumultuous events
in the Middle East and the testimony of the Word of God.
"Faithful is He who calls you, and He will also bring it to pass." I Thessalonians 5:24
"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore, take up the full armor of God, that you may be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm." Ephesians 6:12-13
"Let us therefore draw near with confidence to the throne of grace that we may receive mercy and may find grace to help in time of need." Hebrews 4:16
~February, 1991
May we once again trust You, Holy God, in the midst of new birth and coronavirus and all the other joys and trials of life.
Lord, as I sit in our den in Rochetaillée, soaking up the scents of spring, I am in awe that Paul and I are here, safe and sound and ever so grateful. It could have been different.
Early Friday morning, after 13 planned days at sea on a repositioning cruise, we watched our ship dock in Barcelona. Then as the sun rose in pastel beauty, we and over 4000 other passengers disembarked and stepped onto Spanish soil. Just as we should have.
But we all knew we were stepping into a whole new world, and not the paradise that Jasmine and Aladdin sing about. A world with the coronavirus pandemic.
Indeed, being on that boat had felt like just about the safest place in the world.
For weeks before the cruise, we received information about who would and would not be allowed on the ship. Once onboard, we were reminded every hour to ‘WASH YOUR HANDS’. Hand sanitizer dispensers were at every door. And everyone on board seemed happy to obey.
The cruise was absolutely wonderful, an amazing gift as we celebrated 35 years of marriage and my 60 years.
But we were relieved to be allowed off the boat and to be heading home. We’d followed the news stories as the coronavirus became a pandemic and cases throughout the world continued to escalate; we’d heard of cruise ships refused passage and stuck at sea.
Hours after leaving the boat, we learned that our cruise line was cancelling all cruises that start in the US for at least a month. And hours after boarding our train that took us from Barcelona into France, all of Spain went under quarantine.
When a dear friend deposited us at our little house late Friday night, we literally felt that we had escaped by the skin of our teeth, no more deserving than other travelers, many of whom were stranded in some foreign airport or train station.
The France we came back to is vastly different than the one we left five months ago. Indeed the whole world looks different than when we got on the ship fourteen days earlier. Everything is closing down: schools, churches, stores, businesses. We are not allowed to gather in groups at all and strongly urged to stay home.
Sadly, the virus spread widely in France after an evangelical gathering in late February where people came from all around Europe, including some unknowingly infected from Italy. Already often misrepresented and mistrusted in France, now evangelicals are being blamed by some for bringing the coronavirus to France.
But our brave brothers and sisters in Christ are retaliating in love, praying for our fellow believers who are stricken with the virus, holding church virtually, asking You to give great wisdom and courage to our leaders and health care providers.
I’m so thankful You don’t change, Lord. That we were able to take the cruise and be safe was a great gift. But really, I know the only place that I am truly safe, that any of us are truly safe, is in Your loving, Sovereign hands. Wherever that is and in whatever condition that finds us. In You, we are safe. We’ve been sealed by Your Spirit and nothing, nothing, no virus or other disaster or tragedy, can snatch us from Your hands.
Who knows what the world will look like tomorrow?
What I do know is that You ask me to trust You today. To live this day as I live every day, with my eyes on You. This verse has become the one I pray to You every morning, Lord:
“Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love for I have put my trust in You. Show me the way I should go for to You I lift up my soul.” (Psalm 143: 8)
May You show each of us, Lord, what we are to do for such a time as this.
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her blog.
Yep, I did it! Walked right into a new decade, Lord! And because it’s a new decade, I felt obliged to celebrate it all month long! And what a celebration we’ve had.
I’ve been loved on by family and friends from every decade of my life. I’ve received such sweet words of affirmation through beautiful cards, calls, emails, and phone conversations.
I’ve been spoiled rotten with flowers.
Best of all, I’ve literally felt warm hugs from so many family and friends who inhabit this side of the Atlantic.
Soon we’ll be returning to France, Lord, but I want to pause today and say a huge, “Merci” for allowing me to celebrate this milestone in America. (Now, I’m not promising to stop the parties once I get to France! Au contraire!)
I’ve thought a lot about how You call Your people to celebrate. Throughout Your Word are stories of days and weeks and months of celebrating the fact that Your people belong to You, the God who loves them and provides for them, the One and Only true God, the only one worthy of receiving praise.
You call us to celebrate note only Who You are but also the gift of life. As I’ve spent the last four months speaking about mental illness and the effects of depression, I’ve also talked about the loveliest of lessons You’ve taught me along this journey of life: how to be kind to myself.
Yes, You call us to love You with all our hearts and minds and souls. And then You call us to the second most important commandment, to love others as we love ourselves.
Sometimes I think we are cruel to others because we are cruel to ourselves, listening to (or whispering to ourselves) lies about our worth: “Not good enough! Failure!” Lies from the enemy of our souls.
I’ve learned over the course of my sixty years, little by little, and through Your gracious provision of friends and counselors and especially the wisdom that comes from Your Word, to be kind to myself.
And so I’m celebrating sixty. I am so thankful to be alive, Lord. I am trying to savor each moment of these festivities and live in the present, casting worries on You and trusting You for the future.
Because I am Your beloved daughter, saved by Your grace, awaiting an eternal inheritance far better than any earthly party or gift.
But until I get ‘home’, I’m going to celebrate this season and rejoice in this part of the journey.
Won’t you, dear reader, join me in the joy?
Sometimes, Lord, I look back at all the ways You’ve provided for me in the past, and I am brought to tears. As Paul and I continue to juggle life in two countries, I think back to a day over ten years ago when we became citizens of our adopted country of France. What a valuable lesson you taught me that day…
Photo by Nicolas on Pexels.com
Photo by Sawyer Sutton on Pexels.com
ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her blog.
Isaiah 61:1-3
The Spirit of the Lord God is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives
and freedom to the prisoners;
2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor,
and the day of our God’s vengeance;
to comfort all who mourn,
3 to provide for those who mourn in Zion;
to give them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
festive oil instead of mourning,
and splendid clothes instead of despair.
And they will be called righteous trees,
planted by the Lord
to glorify him.
Lord, You know how my heart beats with joy and anticipation as I come to these verses in Isaiah. They take me back to a time when You saved my life. It was fall of 2001. The Owens had left, we’d returned from an exhausting furlough, The Swan House was launched to great acclaim, and I was in despair.
And You sent me Beth Moore’s study called Breaking Free. And these verses were the highlights. To show me how to break free of the lies and the depression. Oh, it took a long time, but through Your Word and that study and medication and counselors, I made my way back to health.
So many words in these verses bring joy and comfort and I can say, “Yes! This is true! You are the anointed One who brings good news to the poor, who binds up the broken-hearted, and frees captives and prisoners. I was all of these. Poor, despairing, and imprisoned by depression, and You freed me!”
And then I get to the part about what You give: Your promises. You give comfort to all of those who are mourning. And how this has been true too throughout my life of losses. You provide for the grieving. Yes, yes! And what do you give? A crown of beauty instead of ashes! Festive oil instead of mourning! And splendid clothes instead of despair.
And that’s where I stopped and sucked in my breath this morning. Two words. Splendid clothes. I’m reading in the Christian Standard Bible, a new translation (to me). In the NIV that phrase is ‘garment of praise’. I’ve always loved the picture of how praise clothes us with joy and hope and power and takes away the despair.
But today as I read ‘splendid clothes’, I get tears in my eyes. Paul and I flew back to the States two weeks ago today. Changing countries and homes is always exhausting. Navigating all the ways to pack up one place and settle into the next is daunting. And since we will likely be spending a part of each year back in the States, we decided we didn’t want to keep lugging clothes back and forth. Leave stuff in France. Pare down.
But I need nicer clothes in the US, for speaking engagements and parties and even church. And I have just finished hanging up a whole closet filled with ‘splendid clothes’.
Some my dear mom purchased for me twenty years ago from a high end designer. Amazingly they still fit. Some I purchased for my son’s wedding or another special event years ago. Some came from the missionary clothes closet of a big church in Chattanooga, a clothes closet that looks much more like a fashion boutique where wealthy women have given their finest. And some came from consignment stores, again where beautiful clothes are much cheaper.
But many, many of my splendid clothes come from one of my oldest and dearest friends. We wear the same size (mostly) and throughout the years, she has emptied her closet of gorgeous designer clothes for me. She does it with joy, and I am overwhelmed. Beautiful clothes. Splendid clothes. One of a kind clothes. And my closet in this house that You have provided for us is filled with these clothes.
Today, as I read one of my favorite chapters in Scripture, with all the memories of what each verse and word has meant to me in the past, You shed new light on truth through those old, old words.
You are a God who provides in every way. And just as I now have ‘splendid clothes’ to wear to my literary functions, I also have splendid clothes to replace my rags of despair. And it’s a lifelong change of wardrobe, Lord. You just keep giving me more beautiful clothes, finer clothes, as You strip off the layers of rags I’ve been wearing until I become more and more the me You created me to be.
I think this is part of what sanctification means. It’s not power or success or competition with others. It’s a stripping off, so that the beauty of who we really are down deep shines through. It is a gradual transformation. When I first became Your child, those lovely clothes could not have fit me. They’d be too big, too heavy, too fine for my small frame.
But little by little, as I look more like the Elizabeth I was meant to be, they fit. And oh, I do feel like a princess in my new wardrobe of calm and praise and delight and trust and creativity and compassion and empathy and courage. Little by little I’m able to wear the splendid clothes of Your righteousness.
But first, I had to realize that You’d exchanged my rags, way back when You first rescued me. You said, “I’m covering you, Lizzie, with my splendor and righteousness. I’m purifying you. I wore the rags so you could have the splendid clothes.”
I think it takes a lifetime for us to learn how to wear these clothes, to walk around comfortable in our own skin. And the more we do, the more You shine out though us. Your beauty becomes contagious so that others will see and long to be clothed like us, like me.
January, 2020: Lookout Mountain, Georgia
And how You must smile to see each of us wearing the splendid clothes You have picked out for each of us, all unique and stunning, to wear for Your glory.
Is your soul’s wardrobe filled with ‘splendid clothes’?
For the past few years, I’ve done something called an Annual Examen at the beginning of new year. This Examen (from http://www.unhurriedliving.com by Alan and Gem Fadling) asks thoughtful questions based on one of my favorite passages in Scripture: Isaiah 61. The following thoughts come from just one part of one of those questions.
Where have I sensed the beauty of God over the last year? Where have I witnessed the elegance of God’s hand at work in or around me?
For this, Lord, I come back again to Your provision. And call. I have always said that the Lord made it clear when we were to move to France and I trusted that He would make it clear when we were to move back.
And You did. Moving back into a beautiful home on a beautiful bit of land in a lovely subdivision in a beautiful part of the country. For this season. And I have felt such joy as I discover this beauty and the way You have given in such enormous and intricately personal ways to me. I like the word ‘elegance’. The elegance of God’s hand at work.
Continuing the image of an oak growing over decades, I think that none of the things that make this home so sweet would have been here in past decades. Grandmom’s furniture, Mamaw’s, Lacy’s grandmother’s. They were being used by another precious soul in past decades, and You were waiting for the time to bless us with these beauties in this decade, in this time when we could receive them with awe and delight and wonder. And it is that deeper splendor and elegance that I have felt. Not bigger is better, but God provides. God knows me, inside and out.
That is why I delight to show off this home—because You, dear Lord, provided the décor, and it shows in the warmth and the eclectic style that fits and invites and welcomes and surrounds and offers comfort on cozy sofas plucked from consignment stores and church bazaars.
And a yard where a redheaded woodpecker pecks furiously at a rotted tree and cardinals, a pair, come and pick through the birdseed, taking only the biggest ones, and tiny sparrows flit inside the birdhouse to find their treasures. Where squirrels hop happily through pine straw, or on the roof in front of my little writing desk. Or doves, two of them, coo sweetly to one another while I invent a love story.
Where have you seen ‘the elegance of God’s hand’ in your life this past year?
Dear Friends,
Here’s a brief slideshow (3 minutes in random order) of our year 2019, filled with time in France and America with family and friends and many opportunities to praise our Lord Jesus Christ. We thank Him for the gift of your friendship and pray that your 2020 will be filled with the wonder of life.
Chers Amis,
Voici notre Année 2019, en diaporama (3 minutes, ordre aléatoire), bien remplie avec notre vie en France, en Amérique, entourée de famille, d’amis, et d’occasions de louer notre Seigneur Jésus Christ. Nous Le remercions pour la joie de vous connaitre! Que votre année 2020 soit remplie d’une éblouissement pour la vie.
“The heavens declare the glory of God.” Psalm 19: 1 “Les cieux racontent la gloire de Dieu.” Psaume 19 v.1
Avec toute notre amitié,
Much love,
Paul et/and Elizabeth
paul.musser@onecollective.org; elizabeth.musser@onecollective.org
USA: 80 S. Victor Drive; Flintstone, GA 30725; USA
France: 898 Quai Pierre Dupont; 69270 Rochetaillee-sur-Saone; FRANCE
Elizabeth Musser 