The Unnamed Innocent

I was reading this morning an article about the death of George Floyd. The writer encouraged us to remember this man’s name and speak of the injustice he suffered. He died after being pinned to the ground by a police officer. Thank God for mobile phones. His treatment was videoed and broadcast throughout the world.

Violence and protest marches took place in many cities in America and around the world, despite the guidance of our governments not to gather in groups due to the pandemic. People voiced their outrage at the death of George Floyd.

I have been reflecting recently on the importance of one’s name. I believe God calls me by my name. A priest gave me my name when I was baptised as an infant. Then a child was baptised soon after her birth. He called me Angela. This means Messanger, like the Angels, who are messengers of God. He gave me a second name, Petronella. This means solid like a rock. My names are prophetic for my life. I survived as a baby, despite many infants dying from diseases and Ill health. I survived rheumatic fever later when I was nine years old. Untreated this can leave one disabled. I have survived broken limbs. I survived malignant cancer ten years ago. I gave birth to fourteen children. I’m staying alive!

I now tell others about the God who created me in my mother’s womb and who cared for me all the days of my life.

“O Lord, you alone are my hope. I’ve trusted you, O Lord, from childhood. Yes, you have been with me from birth; from my mother’s womb you have cared for me. No wonder I am always praising you!”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭71:5-6‬ ‭NLT‬‬
“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭139:13‬ ‭NIV‬‬

He is God Almighty, his son Jesus and his Holy Spirit, three in one. I am fulfilling my name Angela. God has made me like a rock to survive many difficulties thrown at me. I am fulfilling my name Petronella.

In the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem is recorded the names of most of the six million Jews who died in the concentration camps. In so far as possible each one is mentioned by name and where he was from. These records are a memorial on the earth to each one who died. He is remembered by his people after him by name. Each one mattered.

Every year on November the eleventh in Britain, leaders and people gather in towns at a Memorial Stone where the names of soldiers who died in World wars are recorded. They are remembered by name. They are given dignity and their memory honored.

A thought came to me the other day. What about the little children who have been aborted in my country since March this year. They have not been given a name. They will not be celebrated by each one’s mother or father. Get rid of the unseen problem. There is no mobile phone to record the lethal injection. There is no photo taken at the child’s birth. No beautiful clothes to cover the child’s nakedness. Northern Ireland was a safe place for me to have my children.

But God sees.
“You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭139:16‬ ‭NLT‬‬

The unborn children return to God who created them . He is caring for them. They will be remembered as those whose blood was shed. There is eternal life. There is a heaven where there will be no more pain. God is loving but he is the God of justice. He saw the unformed body in the womb. He keeps a record in his book. He remembers and he will bring justice for shed blood of the innocent children.

Jesus told us to use his name to pray to the Father in heaven. I am writing this article in Jesus name. There is power in the name of Jesus. His name is the name above all names. In the end every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

My Angel Mosaic

 

I am so grateful that I was able to do some craft work during the present restrictions due to the Corona Virus pandemic.
I have made some boat, cross and angel mosaics.  
I collect broken pottery and sea glass from my local beach.
My favourite items I have created are the angels.
I have some place mats I bought at Christmas time.
They are mirrors with sparkly markings on the edge.
The broken base of cups or saucers are suitable for my angels.
Two broken pieces make up the wing and skirt of this angel shown in the picture.
The upper body is made of a piece of brown bottle sea glass.
The head is a piece of poetry from a broken jar.
I like this particular angel in the photograph.
The rim on the wing and the curves on the skirt remind me of the wheels with the Angels in Ezekiel.

“As I looked at the living creatures, I saw a wheel on the ground beside each creature with its four faces.
When the living creatures moved, the wheels beside them moved; and when the living creatures rose from the ground, the wheels also rose.
Wherever the spirit would go, they would go, and the wheels would rise along with them, because the spirit of the living creatures was in the wheels.
When the creatures moved, they also moved; when the creatures stood still, they also stood still; and when the creatures rose from the ground, the wheels rose along with them, because the spirit of the living creatures was in the wheels.”
‭‭Ezekiel‬ ‭1:15, 19-21‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Ezekiel saw a vision of angels.  Millions of angels are around the throne in heaven worshipping God.

“Then I looked and heard the voice of many angels, numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand. They encircled the throne and the living creatures and the elders. In a loud voice they were saying: “Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!””
‭‭Revelation‬ ‭5:11-12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

An angel is allocated to each one born on the earth.  Jesus said,

“See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭18:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Our angels watch over us and preserve us from harm.  Human beings live on the earth but they have a connection to heaven while living here.  Let us live in the light of this truth and respect little children.

Family Friday. Their Angels see the Face of my Father in Heaven.

Brendan and I were visiting with a family in India.  It is exciting travelling along a road in India.  You have a variety of vehicles and animals all trying to avoid each other.

On the back of a lorry we saw the caption “One plus one equals one”.  It is an advertisement to promote population control in their country.  With Brendan and me, one plus one equalled fourteen.

We were telling our hosts about our journey and laughing about the caption on the lorry.  This family had four children.  We were sharing about our fourteen children.  The mother called Josey, told us about family traditions in India.

When a mother gives birth she is cared for by extended family and servants.  Josey visited with her daughter when she gave birth for six weeks.  The new mother was not allowed out of bed to do any work.  Her energy was preserved to feed her baby and recover from the delivery.

In those six weeks Josey pampered her daughter, bathing her in essential oils and herbs.  She cooked special energy giving meals.  The Chinese give nursing mothers ginger soup, which helps the mother’s body recover.  When the baby was fed by mum, Josey would care for baby till the next feed.

I commented ” I am due twenty one months of essential oil treatments!”

Josey went on to tell me that in most families  every baby is given a servant to help the mother look after him.  What a great help for any mother.  Who wouldn’t mind  having lots of children if there was all that help available.  The husband didn’t seem to be involved in the child care in India.

My husband helped me rear our children.   As more children were born the older children helped the younger children.   When I returned from hospital with a new baby my children gathered around me and baby.  They wanted to nurse their new sister or brother.  Each baby was prayed for and welcomed into our family.  There was room made for each one in our hearts and our home.

An angel was assigned by God for each baby.  “See to it you don’t despise one of these little ones who behold the face of my Father in heaven.”

We may not have had servants to help but God assigned an angel to help.  Imagine a heavenly messenger arriving in our home with each new child.   We treated each child as a gift sent down from the Throne of God in heaven.  Each one was special and had a particular destiny in this world which I believed God would help them accomplish.  Each child was blessed.  Who would not want a gift from God?  The policies of the nations are preventing people receiving gifts from God.

My oldest daughter was studying for her A levels.  Beside her desk in her bedroom was a baby’s cot.  She studied while her baby brother David slept.

Mary looked after two brothers in her bedroom, while she studied at night.  She was strict with them and would not take any messing.

The young children loved to go to Hannah’s room.  It was the warmest room in the house.  Hannah allowed the boys to climb into her bed, if they awoke early.  They could keep warm under the covers.  On a Saturday morning they would spent hours playing games there.

Our youngest daughter used to go up to her sister Ruth’ s room.  She would tug at Ruth to get up and change her nappy.  If Ruth didn’t respond, her wee sister, whom she loved, would climb up and sit on Ruth’s pillow.  She eventually got her big sister’s attention.

Everyone loved to lie in on  Saturday mornings, when there was no school or work.

It wasn’t easy for my husband.  He laid down his life for his family.  He did not have interests that took him away from the family.  If we did have recreation we did it together, a walk on the beach or forest, a drive along the coast, going for a swim or working in the garden.

I don’t think it was a tradition in India, Ireland or China for the husband to help rear the children.  That task was left to the women.  My husband is one of a kind.  He has modelled a different tradition for his sons.

I often reminded myself of the Psalm 121 when I got weary.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. (‭Psalm‬ ‭121‬:‭1-2‬ NIV)

God gave us our children and he is committed to help us look after them.