Author Archives

Norma L. Brumbaugh

Inspirational Writer, Author, and Speaker

PO Box 6432, Chico, CA 95927
nlbrumbaugh@gmail.com

Keep a smile in your heart.

Posted on

God As a Safe Place

God is my Safe Place

Surely He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler, and from the deadly plague. He will cover you with His feathers; under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day.

Psalm 91:3-5

I don’t know exactly when I realized that God is my safe place. He is my safe place wherever I am. I go to God with my troubles. I cling to Him when I am afraid. I trust God to keep me safe. God is my Rock. He is my fortress. God is my ever present help in times of trouble. Every day is a good day because God is in it.

God covers me with His feathers.

I love the imagery of God covering me with His feathers. This is a protective stance of a mother bird with her baby birds under her wings. It is also a loving stance as we see a mother’s care for her youngsters. Just like a fledgling knows his mother will protect him, I know my Father in Heaven will protect me in the storms of life. I can rest in this knowledge of my heavenly father.

This does not mean there won’t be any storms in my life. It does mean that God is with me through the storm. God does not abandon His children. He is like a mighty fortress in which I find safety and help, in which I find my courage and strength to face whatever befalls me.

God is faithful

God never waivers nor capitulates. He remains strong, valiant, courageous. We see this in Christ, in His confrontations, trial, beating, and death on the cross. We see a measure of this same strength in Christ’s devoted followers–His disciples, the Apostle Paul, and Christian martyrs. They were pillars of faith; resolute, unyielding, firm in their faith. We may be called to stand alone for our faith. Should that happen, God will give us the courage and strength at the time when we need it. One person can make a difference.

There is a story of a monk in Roman days who had gone to the Colosseum to watch a gladiator match. As he watched the gladiators fight to the death he was appalled by the evil for what it was. He was so impacted by what he saw that he ran down the steps to intervene, yelling, ” Stop! This isn’t right. Stop!” He ran down to the ring where the gladiators were fighting. According to one account, they ran him through. According to legend, the emperor was so impressed by the monk’s bravery, and the crowd so affected by his actions that this became the last gladiatorial match in the Colosseum. You can read about it here.

We can rest in Him

Psalm 78:35 says, “They remembered that God was their Rock, that God Most High was their Redeemer.” Many are the hymns which we sing that express this truth about God, that Jesus is the Rock upon which we stand.

  • “On Christ, the Solid Rock, I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.”
  • “O, Jesus is a Rock in a weary land–a Shelter in a time of storm.”
  • “The wise man built his house upon a Rock.”

Trust in God is a mighty assurance to us in our faith. Our trust has the ability to grow. I trust God more today that I did 10 years, 5 years, and one year ago. My trust grows exponentially. I am learning to trust God with more of my stuff as I have learned He is gracious, willing, and able to bear it. We can be hesitant to trust Him with our complicated issues, but He gets us, and He wants us to trust Him with it. He is a trustworthy God, and He never fails us. The challenge for me is to trust God with my burdens and leave them with Him. I want to worry, when He says, “Trust Me.” Then it becomes an exercise in re-giving my burdens back to Him.

I’m so glad that God is our Divine Protector, that He covers us with His feathers. He has our best interest at heart. We can trust Him with every burden. And best of all, we need not fear Him, for He is a kind, loving, gracious Father.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
    will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
    my God, in whom I trust.” -Psalm 91:1-2

. . .

I wish you well on your spiritual journey.

Posted on

My Mother, Grandmothers and Memories

A woman of God is a rare treasure

I have wonderful memories of my mother and my two grandmothers. I remember what it felt like to enter their homes at any time of the day. They welcomed me with love. I enjoyed being with them in their homes. I can recreate in my mind that warm, welcoming feeling of being in their presence. The joy they gave me was real, tangible, and heart-felt.

. . .

Grandma Weigold-

At Grandma Weigold’s house with my sisters. Juanita, me, Uncle Vernon, Grandma W., Lois, Marilyn (& John). Juanita and I were new mothers. 1983

Grandma Weigold was my maternal grandmother. She styled her white hair in curls. She was a happy woman that spread the love wherever she went. We entered the porch before knocking on the front door. Grandma would greet us with a hug and a smile. Sunshine flowed through her home, literally and physically.

Grandma’s home was decorated with greenery from her yard which had flowering plants on all four sides. Her avocado, lemon, and grapefruit trees were prolific producers. Grandma wore bright clothing in the colorful mumuus that she wore around the house. Grandma played the piano and composed songs. Her spirit was one of joy and peace.

. . .

Grandma Brumbaugh-

My grandparents on their 60th anniversary with Mrs. Hall, who made the cake. Grandma Brumbaugh is on the left.

Grandma Brumbaugh was my paternal grandmother. She was a tall, spare woman. Grandma Brumbaugh wore her iron gray hair in a soft bun. At night, she plaited her hair in a long, thick braid. Sometimes she let me brush her hair before she braided it. Grandma Brumbaugh baked bread, pies, and cookies on Saturdays. I often went to her house when she was baking. We would talk while she baked. I loved this aspect of our time together.

My connection with grandma was special. Her quiet ways were similar to mine. She liked hearing my stories of high school, friends, and activities. Grandma was a woman of routines. She washed on Monday, baked on Saturday, etc. For pleasure, she tatted. She tatted lace to trim pillows, aprons, and dresses. Grandma sewed her own dresses. She made each of her eight grandchildren a quilt from leftover scraps of calico print material.

. . .

Mother-

Mother and Dad with Titus, my grandson. 2011

My mother was a great cook, a masterful seamstress, and an artist at heart. She knitted, crocheted, painted, and even did woodwork. If Mother put her mind to it, she could do it. On a summer day, I would visit my mother. She would make a large tuna with green salad or bacon, tomato, and cheese sandwiches.

We always drank iced tea. Mother and I canned produce from her garden. Mother was faithful in church and made sure that we attended youth group and Sunday services in our youth. When we were little, she read to us bible stories from a bible story book. Mother’s love, though, was the violin. She loved playing it. She performed solos in church and played in symphonies.

. . .

What my grandmothers and mother had in common was their faith. Their faith guided them in their pursuits, in they way they lived, how they treated their husbands, and in how they raised their families. They all read God’s Word and prayed. When we were school age, my mother would make us breakfast and then sit on the couch reading her bible and praying. That’s how she started her day.

Both my grandmothers’ bibles were well-marked with notes and underlinings. We would talk about spiritual concepts whenever the subject came up. A spiritual heritage cannot be measured, but its value is substantial. My mother and grandmothers put into my life spiritual teachings that have impressed on me the quiet grace of a woman of God. I am grateful for their Christian examples and unconditional love.

. . .

I close with these words.

You will teach them to fly, but they will not fly your flight.

You teach them to dream, but they will not dream your dream.

You teach them to live, but they will not live your life.

Nevertheless, in every flight, in every life, in every dream, the print of the way you taught them will remain.

-Mother Teresa

. . .

I wish you well on your spiritual journey.