Monday, December 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
There is Joy
Walking in the deep twilight
The laugh of a child breaks through
Another joins in blending mother and child.
Joy was over there.
A pink haze runs free upon a now darkened sky
Last of the colors of night
Gazing upon it
Joy was here
Pushing the swing to the sky
A granddaughter's wish
Bringing giggles, skirt all a furl
Joy was there
Morning from a kitchen window
A fawn and it's sibling
Dancing, frolicking around their mother
Joy was here
A child speaks of their deepest desire
My ears hear
My heart is tickled
There is joy here, there, everywhere.
Have an ear to hear
A heart that is open
This is a gift
Receive it...with joy.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
This Evening
Long sing the crickets
Soft glows the moon
No breeze blowing
Sun comes too soon.
Evening is magic
Deer make their way here
Standing close by
Frogs croaking near.
A dog calls to dogs,
Their sentinel sounds
Soft glows the moon,
Peace still abounds.
Come now let's sleep.
Eyes close and pray.
Here we shall dream
Of sweet new day.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Independence Day
This week has been a fun one for me. I love the fourth of July. I love our country. From Alaska to the tip of Florida, I believe it is the most beautiful place on earth to live...in many, many ways.
Being blessed to have been born here, thrive here, grow old here; there is nothing else like it on this planet. It is dear to my heart. I am forever awed by the Sovereign grace that has brought us thus far. We could have lost this republic. It has cost us dearly, but it has prevailed, freedom has prevailed. God has surely protected us.
This week, July 9th, to be exact, another country was born...Southern Sudan. That country is not as developed as we are. It's people have suffered much and have survived through many, many years of brutal civil war. Yesterday they celebrated their new country with flags newly designed and flying high, a soccer game with Kenya and visiting dignitaries. Jubilant citizens everywhere.
Just last month, however, there was intense fighting on their border, dozens of civilians were killed and 60,000 displaced. Two churches that had been built since their citizens voted for freedom, were burned, destroyed. The villages around them filled with soldiers from the north.
It is not a simple freedom. There is vast oil production in the south...there is hostile hatred from many enemies that would want to thwart their joy. Yet..they still celebrate. Hope is high.
Here in our America the beautiful, we picnic and shoot off fireworks and decorate in our red, white and blue. It's a festive, fun and familiar event. Let us never forget that indeed, "Freedom is not free" and in our joy not to forget the new born babe of a country that despite it's peril still celebrates with as much, if not more, gusto than we do.
Any battle, any conflict could have tipped our freedom's scales, but it did not. We, we blessed and
complex citizens, different in so many ways, united by a portion of land that touches two oceans and carries the weight of many mountains, spread dry with dramatic deserts, touched gently by forests and valleys, slapped alert by boisterous cities...We have so much just to behold, Let us bow our heads for a new idea of freedom in a far off place, 100,000 of their people enslaved to the north and an enemy that wants danger to be their bedfellow. Let us be thankful first for our nation. Then let us ask for Southern Sudan to be given a chance to grow as we have...give them peace. May they sing," Southern Sudan, the Beautiful" someday!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
TO WORSHIP
Oh Lord, our Lord,
How excellent is Your name in all the earth,
Who have set Your glory above the heavens!
...When I consider Your heavens,
the moon and the stars,
which You have ordained,
What is man that You are
mindful of him
And the son of man
that You visited him?
For You have made him
a little lower than the angels,
And You have crowned him with glory and honor.
Oh, Lord, our Lord,
How excellent is Your name in all
the earth!
Psalm 8:1, 3-5, 9
When does worship take place? Used to be a standard answer for me was
Sunday morning, 10:30.
If you asked me now, I'd have to say....anytime.
For me personally there is no better time than this minute.
Please don't hear this as a brag...it's not.
It's just that each day has it moments of reminiscing. The reminders of grace and joy and all the chapters thus far in my life. All are testimonies to God's unlimited patience and grace, love, mercy...well,
you get the idea.
This morning I heard the thunder and walked out on our back porch to hear it just a little better.
As the clouds rolled in and the sound echoed across the fields, there was a stern blue jay grabbing a quick bite of food to feed his baby now out of the nest. The thunder rolled and out on a lone limb sat three baby bluebirds waiting for their father to bring on the bugs. This had to be their first day to sit together outside the box. It was time to worship.
These last few weeks have overwhelmed me. There is no time to waste. Worship is all there is to hold these moments in grateful awe. What would I do with these gifts of such joy? Just write about them?
A young dolphin comes to my shore and swims along the beach bank as I walk it. I worshiped.
A Florida sea turtle comes up from a bog in the Everglades and stares straight into my eyes. Just he and I. Obviously seeing his first human and blinking as he takes a good look, I feel the tears of
wonder start to come as I leave him hoping he will never know harm. It was time to woship.
But the same feeling can make it's way into my spirit when I'm bathing a grandchild or watching
the sun rise glorious over the cedars. When old friends visit and I see their smile once again.
When holding hands to protect a child and listen as someone shares their God story with me.
There is no better time to worship and adore the King of all kings, the Lord of all, the Creator of the universe. There is no time like the present. What has He done for you just this day alone?
Light of the world
You stepped down into darkness
Opened my eyes, let me see
Beauty that made my heart adore You
Hope of a life spent with You.
Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that You're my God.
You're altogether lovely
Altogether worthy
Altogether wonderful to me.
I'll never know
How much it cost to see my sin
Upon that cross.
Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that Your my God....
by Tim Hughes
(abbreviated)
Saturday, June 18, 2011
It's No Wonder...
It's no wonder that I have no problem with a relationship with my heavenly Father. It comes as no surprise to me that it seems natural to talk with Him and ask Him questions, to trust Him and know He has my best interest in mind. It's not so hard when you've always had a great example for a DAD.
When your dad works hard for others and gives his best all the time..
When your dad finds good in folks even when they're not quite his type..
When your dad can fix most anything that's broken..
When your dad lends his wisdom to those who want it...
When your dad makes life simple by living unselfishly...
When your dad has always been faithful...
When your dad knows how to pray ...
When your dad would lay down his life for his family....
When your dad gives all just for the joy of giving...
I've been blessed with this example all my life
and so have my girls and now their children.
I've also been blessed to have married a wonderful dad himself who loves and respects my dad
and seeks to emulate him.
Yes, Heavenly Father, You are the best Father and You gave my family one of Your best examples on this earth.
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights,
with whom is no variation or shadow of turning.
James 1:17
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DADDY!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
It's the Thought That Counts
She walked in our door last evening with a jar in her hands.
"This is for you, Marmee. It's a cicada I got for you," she said as she handed me one of her mom's drinking glasses covered with a cloth and tied with ribbon. There hung a big black and orange cicada among leaves she had added for him to eat. I stared at him and he was probably buzzing at me. I'd had more than a little up-close and personal time with about 10,000 of his nearest relatives, but he was special. He was a gift. A gift from the heart of my beautiful Bri. He looked extra buzzy and I gladly placed him on the kitchen counter. She was pleased.
My neighbor came down our drive with a box in his hands. In it were two tomato plants. I had been needing some tomato plants since our Big Red excavated our garden plot so well that Nothing is safe there anymore. I took them with great joy and gratitude because there is a promise of a possible "real" tomato in my future from my very own flower bed...now mini-garden. He knew I love tomatoes.
A couple of weeks ago two of our grands spent a couple of days with us. My dog, Fluffy White,
was placed in solitary confinement because of her grouchy attitude toward my Audrey and my Whitaker and any other active person within her domain. After they were safely at home once again, I sat down to do a little catch-up computing. From behind me I hear a sound, "Hummph..
hummph..." Low, but persistent, I tried to ignore whatever it was but it was not to be daunted.
I turned in my chair to find Fluffy White wagging her tail and staring at me. In her mouth was one of the grands' stuffed animals, making her voice sound like a pillow talking. As I started to fuss, I realized that their had been very little time for dogs the last couple of days, it was time now for a little "toss the toy" before she went to bed for the night. Her gift of the unharmed toy, only
dog slobber, was a reminder that everyone needs a little attention, especially spoiled have-you-all-to-myself dogs.
Walked into my daughter's home after their vacation and was met by two grandchildren, Whitaker giving me a cross covered with shells he had picked from the beach. He was so proud to give it to me. Then Audrey presented me with a piece of paper covered with some of her favorite stickers destined for my refrigerator door. It always helps to know you're still remembered when someone is far away.
Just last night my Xavier crawled across the kitchen floor to me, pulled up on my crop-pant-legs and hugged me. That was a first hug from a rough and tumbling tiny tot now so mobile it's scary.
From cicadas to tomato plants to art projects to talking dog to crawling hugger...it all adds up to small gifts given and smiles exchanged and joy happening. It truly is the thought that counts...and putting that thought into action is best of all.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
No Words Worthy
The wind is blowing here on my lane. Across the field the tree tops move like they're dancing. Voluminous clouds lounge in the sky. Bright blue...Soft white.
How quickly all this can change. This same atmosphere holds the culprit that causes tragedy and destruction while other times receiving lost balloons and soaring birds. This same sky hangs over flooded cities and still shines bright and beautiful in reflection against water that has caused tremendous destruction. That same wind grabs cities and lays them flat.
These days have been silencing. I have nothing to say.
I am so human and all that is swirling around...from water to winds ....is so much bigger and stronger than I. Guess I am just a little intimidated , sitting fragile in a world that is groaning with powerful, life-altering forces.
but ...there is Someone to talk to about those who sit in the midst of chaos, cry over losses I have never experienced... who brush away rubble and mud to try to find part of the life underneath.
I'm over whelmed and it makes me realize that my words are insignificant in the face of such loss.
My "tornadoes" have been like the wind of a box fan...my "floods" like bathtubs running over...my "tsunamis and earthquakes" like raining on a roller coaster ride. So here is my plea...
Lord have mercy,
Christ have mercy
on us...
Now we wait in faith for the renewal that will come.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Momma's Smile
I sat at my momma's side in church for 15 years. Always in the same pew. I noticed something different about her, she smiled when our pastor spoke. Since that was not the norm, I always wondered. One day I couldn't stand it any longer and I asked, "Momma, why do you smile at Dr. McCall when he is speaking?"
Her answer was classic Mable Thomas.
You see, my mom is a giver. An unselfish, no holds barred, giver. She doesn't have another mode. It is who she is and who you experience when you meet her. If you squelch that in her you would rob her of her joy. The world doesn't always know how to handle generosity of spirit and self. That's not her problem, she'll just keep it up a hundred percent no matter what.
Along with that comes unselfishness and lack of self-consciousness. Natural friendliness and passionate loyalty follow up . Needs met make her happiest.
So what was her answer to my question?
"I feel like he needs to see at least one person smiling at him as he looks out on the congregation." A gift from the heart. An encouraging one, at that.
Here we are at Mother's Day once again. What gift do I receive every time we are together?
Whether she is opening the back door to welcome us in, sitting at her table full of food that she's prepared, cleaning up the kitchen after the fact, holding a great-grand baby just days or moments old, or giving my dad his marching orders....her smile.
So here is her legacy,
"So let each one give as he purposes in his heart,
not grudgingly,
or of necessity,
for God loves a cheerful giver."
2 Corinthians 9:7 NKJV
Monday, May 2, 2011
Distant Thunder
It's raining again. The prognostactors are predicting thunderstorms. The Cumberland River, the river that gulped down Nashville, is once again looming large. There is thunder in the distance. But the robins still sing.
Here on my lane, there is a lazy, kind of still. The rest of the world however is in an uproar.
An evil, wealthy, murdering, fanatic was killed yesterdayby our military and intelligence at it's best. The US streets drew crowds of elated patrons. Just a couple of days ago a prince and a princess were officially married and the throngs of admirers were jubilant. Almost a week ago so many of us were hunkered down in our basements, closets and bathtubs, awaiting the arrival of tornadoes. The throbbing beat of rising tension in the middle east still stays constant in the background.
Gazing out my window, I can't help but think of those that are not jubilant today. Those who did indeed suffer from the weather's worst. Those who have no windows to look from. Those whose material belongings are tattered to shreds and now will be soaked by rain. Some have lost their entire town. Some lost a part of their family. Some will never recover. There are no words for this, just tears. I've been speechless with sorrow. The trail of tornadoes leaves a mark none can erase except with much time. Trees will grow back. Foundations will be rebuilt on. Trailers will be replaced. Businesses will someday reopen. Family pictures will be longed for, any glimpse of the only thing that matters in our lives...those loved and now missed.
The robins continuing to sing. The earth continues to spin on it's axis. There are somethings that are beyond our control, but nothing is beyond God's. That old song goes:
"He's got the whole world in His hands.
He's got the whole wide world in His hands.
He's got the whole world in His hands.
He's got the whole world in His hands."
Happy or devastated, tattered or celebratory, on fire or burnt out,
we are all in His hands. You can count on it. I know I am.
Here on my lane, there is a lazy, kind of still. The rest of the world however is in an uproar.
An evil, wealthy, murdering, fanatic was killed yesterdayby our military and intelligence at it's best. The US streets drew crowds of elated patrons. Just a couple of days ago a prince and a princess were officially married and the throngs of admirers were jubilant. Almost a week ago so many of us were hunkered down in our basements, closets and bathtubs, awaiting the arrival of tornadoes. The throbbing beat of rising tension in the middle east still stays constant in the background.
Gazing out my window, I can't help but think of those that are not jubilant today. Those who did indeed suffer from the weather's worst. Those who have no windows to look from. Those whose material belongings are tattered to shreds and now will be soaked by rain. Some have lost their entire town. Some lost a part of their family. Some will never recover. There are no words for this, just tears. I've been speechless with sorrow. The trail of tornadoes leaves a mark none can erase except with much time. Trees will grow back. Foundations will be rebuilt on. Trailers will be replaced. Businesses will someday reopen. Family pictures will be longed for, any glimpse of the only thing that matters in our lives...those loved and now missed.
The robins continuing to sing. The earth continues to spin on it's axis. There are somethings that are beyond our control, but nothing is beyond God's. That old song goes:
"He's got the whole world in His hands.
He's got the whole wide world in His hands.
He's got the whole world in His hands.
He's got the whole world in His hands."
Happy or devastated, tattered or celebratory, on fire or burnt out,
we are all in His hands. You can count on it. I know I am.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Love Cried Out
Love cried out
from behind
a stone.
Propelled from
midst of
rock,
Upright and
walking
resplendent,
Having stood,
hung,
died.
Now alive!
Salvation assured,
Life set free.
No more,
that old sin
now clean.
HE
holds out hope
and eternity-home.
we must
make
the decision
to receive it....
p palermo, April 24, 2011
from behind
a stone.
Propelled from
midst of
rock,
Upright and
walking
resplendent,
Having stood,
hung,
died.
Now alive!
Salvation assured,
Life set free.
No more,
that old sin
now clean.
HE
holds out hope
and eternity-home.
we must
make
the decision
to receive it....
p palermo, April 24, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
What I Survey
Have I gazed upon the Cross today?
Before me, a plaster cross embossed with scrollwork, rubbed rough at it's edges, almost white, almost shining.
There is the cross made of many broken pieces, blue and jagged. Rusted cross, bronze cross..
Another stacked , spikelike nails held together, burnt black, painted over gold...
But...have I looked upon the Cross today?
Golden chains innocently holding a small Italian cross made of blue bits,
Long silver chain, heavy, whose lone decoration, large silver cross, rose covered..
a bracelet, dangles one single cross,
another holds twelve, all designs of different crosses..
But...Have I contempleated the Cross today?
My heart looks wildly at the Calvary Cross, the Cross of all Crosses..the one with a Savior upon it.
My eyes have a hard time keeping their gaze for violence, blood, agony, torture..
Yet fixing my eyes on the Man there, the Savior, the Crucified Lamb....
I can look upon HIM because He is and was and had looked upon me. He saw me as I was, am and will be and He died for me anyway, no holds barred.
HIS sacrifice...the LAMB of GOD who takes away the sins of the world.
How about you, have you turned your face toward the cross today? any day?
Yes, it is hard and long ago, but the beauty still is in the love bled pure over arms of innocence...His crime was love and forgiveness. He is more than an expletive, more than a character...He was more than enough.
Enough forgiveness for us all, no one can contain His love...His grace, His mercy...though on this earth, He was shown none.
When I survey the wonderous cross,
on which the Prince of Glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss
and pour contempt on all my pride.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e're such love and sorrow meet?
Or thorns compose so rich a crown.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
Save in the death of Christ, my king.
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That was a present far too small.
Love so amazing , so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
Isaac Watts, 1707
Before me, a plaster cross embossed with scrollwork, rubbed rough at it's edges, almost white, almost shining.
There is the cross made of many broken pieces, blue and jagged. Rusted cross, bronze cross..
Another stacked , spikelike nails held together, burnt black, painted over gold...
But...have I looked upon the Cross today?
Golden chains innocently holding a small Italian cross made of blue bits,
Long silver chain, heavy, whose lone decoration, large silver cross, rose covered..
a bracelet, dangles one single cross,
another holds twelve, all designs of different crosses..
But...Have I contempleated the Cross today?
My heart looks wildly at the Calvary Cross, the Cross of all Crosses..the one with a Savior upon it.
My eyes have a hard time keeping their gaze for violence, blood, agony, torture..
Yet fixing my eyes on the Man there, the Savior, the Crucified Lamb....
I can look upon HIM because He is and was and had looked upon me. He saw me as I was, am and will be and He died for me anyway, no holds barred.
HIS sacrifice...the LAMB of GOD who takes away the sins of the world.
How about you, have you turned your face toward the cross today? any day?
Yes, it is hard and long ago, but the beauty still is in the love bled pure over arms of innocence...His crime was love and forgiveness. He is more than an expletive, more than a character...He was more than enough.
Enough forgiveness for us all, no one can contain His love...His grace, His mercy...though on this earth, He was shown none.
When I survey the wonderous cross,
on which the Prince of Glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss
and pour contempt on all my pride.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e're such love and sorrow meet?
Or thorns compose so rich a crown.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
Save in the death of Christ, my king.
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That was a present far too small.
Love so amazing , so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
Isaac Watts, 1707
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The Servant King
The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under His power, and that He had come from God and was returning to God, so He got up from the meal, took off His outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around His waist. After that, He poured water into a basin and began to wash His disciples feet,...John 13:2-5
I love this passage. It speaks volumes about the Christ I love. He knew His authority given Him by His Father. He knew where He had come from. He knew where He was to return. When I reflect on His way to the cross, His purpose for coming, His sacrificial death, it is difficult to sit and ponder so great a step toward such suffering.
Knowing where we have come from keeps us aware of what formed us to be who we are.
Knowing where we are going, our final destination, spurs us on toward that arrival. Suffering and joy and all that entails come with the journey.
Christ's examples are innumerable, but this one helps me realize that His love for His Father, His obedience and selfless ambition, were coupled with this knowledge.
Do I set my face toward my ultimate destination, my heavenly home? Do I let that fact overshadow all others? If so, I should be quite at home taking up the towel, starting my journey, "taking the very nature of a servant." My prayer is that I will fill my basin with living water and begin.
I love this passage. It speaks volumes about the Christ I love. He knew His authority given Him by His Father. He knew where He had come from. He knew where He was to return. When I reflect on His way to the cross, His purpose for coming, His sacrificial death, it is difficult to sit and ponder so great a step toward such suffering.
Knowing where we have come from keeps us aware of what formed us to be who we are.
Knowing where we are going, our final destination, spurs us on toward that arrival. Suffering and joy and all that entails come with the journey.
Christ's examples are innumerable, but this one helps me realize that His love for His Father, His obedience and selfless ambition, were coupled with this knowledge.
Do I set my face toward my ultimate destination, my heavenly home? Do I let that fact overshadow all others? If so, I should be quite at home taking up the towel, starting my journey, "taking the very nature of a servant." My prayer is that I will fill my basin with living water and begin.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The Breeze is Blowing
Knew this was a special day, a glimpse of the wren dressing her nest with baby's breath from my deck. The titmouse fumbling for twigs through the dead thyme, still hanging from the green clay pot. Signs of preparation for birth all around. Nesting. It's a sure sign of spring.
Two weeks ago, I thought I knew spring, but then ignoring the weather, I awoke to all my wisteria buds having died in the 31 degree night air. That broke my heart. I've grieved over it and grieved some more. It does not bring them back to life. But I must go on. So today, with blue painting the sky, clouds forming with no threat intended, breeze blowing hair and gently cooling the sun's strong rays, I found it was time to be proactive. The pine straw needed to be pulled back to give the beds a time of warming, exposing any new growth I may have missed. The rain induced creek exposes new rocks. I love to look over the offering, fresh revelations of earths inner self. Today I spied something sparkling and muddied my shoes to retrieve it. A six inch piece, fossilized wasp nest covered in crystals the size of sea salt. Taking it to it's new home, It finds itself now a part of my adultified rock collection masquerading as a flower bed border. Having started the rock hunt, I find a large one I can actually carry and place it outside the fence where Rosey, the Big Red, the one with paws outstretched under the fence. The one who has dug up all of one bed and carried a blackberry bush, fresh from the fence, now uprooted and in a million pieces. That Rosey tries to quickly remove any clay I dig up as if she has a project that might require it. All of this attention done from the inside of the fence where I am out. The activity is witnessed by the white fluff dog, Callie, whose goal is to bark continuously while the rest of the world is having a peaceful day. The clay-grabber and the incessant barker...my companions as I enjoy all of the glories of spring and it's promise of more and more of the same...for me and for them. Gong inside, looking out my window, I spy one lone wisteria blossom dangling like an earring on the arbor. It's a fine sight. One beauty. One survivor. What a way to start a season. Joy all around. Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad;.... Let the field be joyful, and all that is in it. Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice before the Lord. For He is coming.... Psalm 96:11a-13a
Two weeks ago, I thought I knew spring, but then ignoring the weather, I awoke to all my wisteria buds having died in the 31 degree night air. That broke my heart. I've grieved over it and grieved some more. It does not bring them back to life. But I must go on. So today, with blue painting the sky, clouds forming with no threat intended, breeze blowing hair and gently cooling the sun's strong rays, I found it was time to be proactive. The pine straw needed to be pulled back to give the beds a time of warming, exposing any new growth I may have missed. The rain induced creek exposes new rocks. I love to look over the offering, fresh revelations of earths inner self. Today I spied something sparkling and muddied my shoes to retrieve it. A six inch piece, fossilized wasp nest covered in crystals the size of sea salt. Taking it to it's new home, It finds itself now a part of my adultified rock collection masquerading as a flower bed border. Having started the rock hunt, I find a large one I can actually carry and place it outside the fence where Rosey, the Big Red, the one with paws outstretched under the fence. The one who has dug up all of one bed and carried a blackberry bush, fresh from the fence, now uprooted and in a million pieces. That Rosey tries to quickly remove any clay I dig up as if she has a project that might require it. All of this attention done from the inside of the fence where I am out. The activity is witnessed by the white fluff dog, Callie, whose goal is to bark continuously while the rest of the world is having a peaceful day. The clay-grabber and the incessant barker...my companions as I enjoy all of the glories of spring and it's promise of more and more of the same...for me and for them. Gong inside, looking out my window, I spy one lone wisteria blossom dangling like an earring on the arbor. It's a fine sight. One beauty. One survivor. What a way to start a season. Joy all around. Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad;.... Let the field be joyful, and all that is in it. Then all the trees of the woods will rejoice before the Lord. For He is coming.... Psalm 96:11a-13a
Monday, March 28, 2011
Cry of Creation
Tears well up and spill across my page. Will they love you? Will they know you as I have? I wonder. I close my eyes an envision who I've created and contemplate their fate. How will they be handled, be read, be remembered, or maybe not. What if they are not treated well. Misunderstood. Disregarded. Left to languish without hearing their story. What will come over me then? Will I cry and spill my disappointment, singular sadness, gushed out on paper with ink spoken words? Will I try to seem unconcerned when their very lives are at stake...at printable stake. These thoughts come to me as the revisions are revised and "my darlings", Faulkner's words,are at stake. There are so few I will relinquish without great pain. May they stay, may they live to grace a printed page? That will all depend on me. Did I write them a fair life, give them a clear voice, have them make their presence irreplaceable? My heart hurts just thinking I'll mistakenly judge them unneccessary. Already a few are gone. Here I sit with "in or out" decisons that have to be made. It's the literary way. If all the characters in all the books I've read could stand before me now, I'd know the ones who have made me laugh, cry, mad, fear, dread. Know the scary, shameful, sordid, strong. the beautiful, tragic, triumphant, brave. So many. So few stand out, but many are remembered. Several I've immulated. Some still trying to forget. The music in my head is playing now as I see my folks acting out my story. It is just that, a story. A fairy tale that happens to people that are not, but seem to be...real. I just love them. Want the best for them. Almost like my children, I want them protected from what will come and especially from me. I write on... to do them justice. To see them thrive. this blog post was supposed to be about them..... but I remembered......................................... I am a created being. My Creator has my life in His hands. He can make or take my life. He can "open any anything that is shut, shut anything that is open". Yet He doesn't worry about me. He knows all "my going outs and my coming ins". My Creator. If I being a human want good things for my created, how much more does my Heavenly Father desire for me. ... realizing I am not God, but His workmanship, I will work.. thrust Him, my Designer, to make my creations what He wants them to be, do, accomplish. He is trustworthy. My created are ultimately in the most trustworthy of Hands. I will dry my tears now. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. Ephesians 2:10
Moon and Me
Waking, seeing silver, it's 3:15 a.m. Outside our bedroom window shone a glowing old friend, the moon. This time he was only half full, but no less the white pearl in the sky. His face so familiar it seemed he was gazing into our window as if to say, "I was just in your area and wanted to say, 'Hello." I knew he was near, having been so full, so close, just nights ago. I'd missed his big display, so sorry with our life-long relationship. Now he hung, shining bright over my face, through the cedars he outlined. It's a moon bathed bed. A reflection across my cheeks that I love. I never want him to change. Lying there staring, afraid I'd miss one moment of his presence, dozing wants to take over. Then, still so enthralled, I see that he's higher in the night sky. Now traveling upwards, away from my eyes. Pulling his silver strands with him, going his ancient way. My face now losing it's glow. My eyes now unable to see his face, I unwillingly fall back to sleep. So thankful he awakened me so for a moment we could visit....face to face.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
TODAY
The evening is still dimly lit. The frogs are doing their best to out-sing the robins. The geese have just flown over, heading to whatever pond they have claimed as theirs. My face is illuminated by the lap-top screen, one dog at my feet. Spring is officially here.
This has been a sweet weekend. A granddaughter captured our hearts as she blew out her four birthday candles.Aided by her brother and cousin. Her cake a creation of her great-grandmother and her aunt. All the grandchildren were entertained by running wide-open in the yard of her grandparent's farm.
All of life was illuminated by the beauty of childhood and many cherished relationships.
Quite frankly, it's almost unbelievable.
This morning, a pastor took a moment to speak to us before the teaching time began. His English difficult to understand, we sat enthralled as he spoke and wept, asking for help for his church in Japan. He was visiting here when the destruction took place and when he returns to his home it will be without many of his congregation, most of his town. He boldly asked for many volunteers to come to Japan and help his people rebuild, restore, clean away, have their spirits lifted. He had a word of welcome to any and all who would come and his small frame showed the severe sorrow he bore. Quite frankly, it's almost unbelievable.
As I sit writing this my heart is overwhelmed with joy and sorrow and hope. I pray that someday the children of his town will once again have a safe plot of ground on which to play.
That they will know there are people who care for them even though there is no way to know us.
I pray that they will be able to see joy in their families' eyes and that they too will have a time of celebration of their life. I pray we understand the beauty of our life.
With that reminder, I will embrace the life I have. I will live it to celebrate the love we have. I will be filled with gratitude for each day of life and all that means. If we have learned anything we should know from our far-eastern friends that "seize the day" is not to be ignored. We have so much to be thankful for and so much to share. I don't want to take any of this for granted.
Let's sing with the frogs and run with the kids. Eat birthday cake even when it's not our birthday. Drink deeply of the goodness. Mourn with those that mourn. Sing with those who sing. Call out the good in people and bless those around us. Life isn't always good, but God is.
So... encourage one another daily, while it is still called "Today".....
Hebrews 3:13
This has been a sweet weekend. A granddaughter captured our hearts as she blew out her four birthday candles.Aided by her brother and cousin. Her cake a creation of her great-grandmother and her aunt. All the grandchildren were entertained by running wide-open in the yard of her grandparent's farm.
All of life was illuminated by the beauty of childhood and many cherished relationships.
Quite frankly, it's almost unbelievable.
This morning, a pastor took a moment to speak to us before the teaching time began. His English difficult to understand, we sat enthralled as he spoke and wept, asking for help for his church in Japan. He was visiting here when the destruction took place and when he returns to his home it will be without many of his congregation, most of his town. He boldly asked for many volunteers to come to Japan and help his people rebuild, restore, clean away, have their spirits lifted. He had a word of welcome to any and all who would come and his small frame showed the severe sorrow he bore. Quite frankly, it's almost unbelievable.
As I sit writing this my heart is overwhelmed with joy and sorrow and hope. I pray that someday the children of his town will once again have a safe plot of ground on which to play.
That they will know there are people who care for them even though there is no way to know us.
I pray that they will be able to see joy in their families' eyes and that they too will have a time of celebration of their life. I pray we understand the beauty of our life.
With that reminder, I will embrace the life I have. I will live it to celebrate the love we have. I will be filled with gratitude for each day of life and all that means. If we have learned anything we should know from our far-eastern friends that "seize the day" is not to be ignored. We have so much to be thankful for and so much to share. I don't want to take any of this for granted.
Let's sing with the frogs and run with the kids. Eat birthday cake even when it's not our birthday. Drink deeply of the goodness. Mourn with those that mourn. Sing with those who sing. Call out the good in people and bless those around us. Life isn't always good, but God is.
So... encourage one another daily, while it is still called "Today".....
Hebrews 3:13
Monday, March 14, 2011
Wash Away
My heart and prayers are with the suffering in Japan. There is absolutely no way I can know how that experience has already drastically changed their lives. but one overriding thought keeps coming to me...
Ash Wednesday, as I sit in the sanctuary and participate in the service, I hear the words,
"Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world",
for the first time I got it.
The whole world,
all sin,
He takes it away,
just believe.
I have believed it but it suddenly became so real.....so very real.
Then came April 11. The morning broke with the news of the tsunami and then the audio and the video soon after.
It seemed so surreal. Unbelievable that so much could be swept away. So much. So big. So powerful. Such aftermath of carnage beyond anything I can fathom.
Sin. It seems so surreal that so much could be swept away. So big. So powerful. such carnage.
Beyond anything I can fathom....but
Jesus the Christ came to take our sin away. Our personal sin. He can sweep it away as far as the east is from the west. He remembers it no more. His power to completely cleanse is the higher power. More powerful than any massive destruction the earth can throw at us. If only we believe....
that He is able to save to the utmost. that He is the Son of God. He can make the foulest clean, He wants to do this for us. Have we put ourselves out there and just trusted Him? It is never to late, so why not now? He loves you more than you will ever know.
There is debris of enormous magnitude left over after the water recedes in Japan. So our lives have to deal with the aftermath of our sin, but God's grace is greater than all our sin to carry us through all the cleanup, the life change, the new start we will receive.
My prayer is that Japan will be overwhelmed by the love of the true God for them and that a new life will be theirs in every possible way. How about you...do you need this washing away of your past, that pushing away of everything in the path to true forgiveness in Christ? My prayer is that you will be overwhelmed by the love of God for you and that a new life will be yours in every possible way.
(I have infused many quotes from various sources. Better words than mine.)
Ash Wednesday, as I sit in the sanctuary and participate in the service, I hear the words,
"Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world",
for the first time I got it.
The whole world,
all sin,
He takes it away,
just believe.
I have believed it but it suddenly became so real.....so very real.
Then came April 11. The morning broke with the news of the tsunami and then the audio and the video soon after.
It seemed so surreal. Unbelievable that so much could be swept away. So much. So big. So powerful. Such aftermath of carnage beyond anything I can fathom.
Sin. It seems so surreal that so much could be swept away. So big. So powerful. such carnage.
Beyond anything I can fathom....but
Jesus the Christ came to take our sin away. Our personal sin. He can sweep it away as far as the east is from the west. He remembers it no more. His power to completely cleanse is the higher power. More powerful than any massive destruction the earth can throw at us. If only we believe....
that He is able to save to the utmost. that He is the Son of God. He can make the foulest clean, He wants to do this for us. Have we put ourselves out there and just trusted Him? It is never to late, so why not now? He loves you more than you will ever know.
There is debris of enormous magnitude left over after the water recedes in Japan. So our lives have to deal with the aftermath of our sin, but God's grace is greater than all our sin to carry us through all the cleanup, the life change, the new start we will receive.
My prayer is that Japan will be overwhelmed by the love of the true God for them and that a new life will be theirs in every possible way. How about you...do you need this washing away of your past, that pushing away of everything in the path to true forgiveness in Christ? My prayer is that you will be overwhelmed by the love of God for you and that a new life will be yours in every possible way.
"For God so loved the world
that He gave His only Son
that whosoever believes on Him
should not perish
but have everlasting life.
He came not into the world
to condemn the world,
but that the world,
through Him,
might be saved."
John 3:16-17
(I have infused many quotes from various sources. Better words than mine.)
Friday, March 4, 2011
For Such a Time as This & Then
The frogs are singing. I love them. It's their time of year to make their presence known. They naturally have plans for all their croaks....trying to be so attractive... giving these breezy cool nights an ambiance chasing away the recent snows. Tiny bodies, no bigger than a lemon, carrying on so loud that one can hear them, doors opened wide, all down the hall to our bedroom. I just love them. So small a creature..so big an effect.
Lately, kings have been on my mind. "The King's Speech" was an amazing film, so beautifully done. My daughter, Jennifer, gave me a fascinating book, Majestie, by David Teems. A biography of King James. You know, the king behind the King James Bible. What a couple of unique individuals...King James and King Charles VI. King James was beyond an individual. Very comforting to know. His heart was truly to make the Bible available and understandable to all men who spoke English, not just the learned. He was not your pious, behind the scenes kind of king. He was an imperfect, fleshly rascal...Yet...he was used beyond his wildest imaginations.
King Charles, VI was a wonder. His stammering could have sunk a lesser man. His birth order almost derailed his ability to rule, but his brother's weak, selfish nature brought him to the forefront of a time needing much more of a sovereign. Without Charles I wonder what would have become of Europe at the hands of the tyrannical maniacs that were strangling kingdoms left and right. His people would come to depend on him and he served them well. The final scene in the film is very moving to me, because they, the sovereigns, and they, the citizens, had no idea how devastating their next years would be. But they were victorious.
Now to the frogs...
tiny, temporarily noisy, ugly, illusive...they charm and give the spring a song like no other. I'm always blessed by their coming. A small span of time.
King James was an interesting king, much like his mother, Mary, Oueen of Scots. But it is obvious he had an enormous role to play and his time was started June 19, 1566. He was born and survived to adulthood to change the world for the better...despite his imperfections. God is Sovereign.
King Charles was not supposed to be the king. He had not actually been raised to be, nor did he actually desire to be..a king. But his brother the king's desire for a forbidden marriage overrode a responsibility to his country thus making him impotent in the worst way. It was one of the greatest reigns-gone-bad in the history of the world. Charles loved his country, his family and had a sense of responsibility far beyond his brothers ability to comprehend. Where would all free people have been without the right men in the front lines against a tyrant like Hitler?Charles knew how to apply the balm of security and understanding. God is Sovereign.
So...just wondering...what about callings on our lives? Do we say, "That couldn't possibly be me that is supposed to do that with my life? I'm not made of the right stuff." Two kings and a few thousand frogs would tell you different if they could. What song are you to sing, what new territory are you supposed to open up, what battle challenges you?
Do not miss your place in history....from the pond or the castle or your own piece of turf.
But Moses said to God,
"Who am I,
that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?"
And God said,
"I will be with you. "
Exodus 3:11 & 12a
**********************************
Mordecai to Queen Esther,
"....and who knows but that you have come to royal position
for such a time as this?"
Esther 4:14b
**************************************
All we have to decide is what to do with the time
that is given us.
J. R. R. Tolkien
***************************************
May we all make the most of our lives.
Lately, kings have been on my mind. "The King's Speech" was an amazing film, so beautifully done. My daughter, Jennifer, gave me a fascinating book, Majestie, by David Teems. A biography of King James. You know, the king behind the King James Bible. What a couple of unique individuals...King James and King Charles VI. King James was beyond an individual. Very comforting to know. His heart was truly to make the Bible available and understandable to all men who spoke English, not just the learned. He was not your pious, behind the scenes kind of king. He was an imperfect, fleshly rascal...Yet...he was used beyond his wildest imaginations.
King Charles, VI was a wonder. His stammering could have sunk a lesser man. His birth order almost derailed his ability to rule, but his brother's weak, selfish nature brought him to the forefront of a time needing much more of a sovereign. Without Charles I wonder what would have become of Europe at the hands of the tyrannical maniacs that were strangling kingdoms left and right. His people would come to depend on him and he served them well. The final scene in the film is very moving to me, because they, the sovereigns, and they, the citizens, had no idea how devastating their next years would be. But they were victorious.
Now to the frogs...
tiny, temporarily noisy, ugly, illusive...they charm and give the spring a song like no other. I'm always blessed by their coming. A small span of time.
King James was an interesting king, much like his mother, Mary, Oueen of Scots. But it is obvious he had an enormous role to play and his time was started June 19, 1566. He was born and survived to adulthood to change the world for the better...despite his imperfections. God is Sovereign.
King Charles was not supposed to be the king. He had not actually been raised to be, nor did he actually desire to be..a king. But his brother the king's desire for a forbidden marriage overrode a responsibility to his country thus making him impotent in the worst way. It was one of the greatest reigns-gone-bad in the history of the world. Charles loved his country, his family and had a sense of responsibility far beyond his brothers ability to comprehend. Where would all free people have been without the right men in the front lines against a tyrant like Hitler?Charles knew how to apply the balm of security and understanding. God is Sovereign.
So...just wondering...what about callings on our lives? Do we say, "That couldn't possibly be me that is supposed to do that with my life? I'm not made of the right stuff." Two kings and a few thousand frogs would tell you different if they could. What song are you to sing, what new territory are you supposed to open up, what battle challenges you?
Do not miss your place in history....from the pond or the castle or your own piece of turf.
But Moses said to God,
"Who am I,
that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?"
And God said,
"I will be with you. "
Exodus 3:11 & 12a
**********************************
Mordecai to Queen Esther,
"....and who knows but that you have come to royal position
for such a time as this?"
Esther 4:14b
**************************************
All we have to decide is what to do with the time
that is given us.
J. R. R. Tolkien
***************************************
May we all make the most of our lives.
Friday, February 25, 2011
TO SEE WITH NEW EYES.
Tuesday morning, tiptoed into my daughter's home. The home where just yesterday my seventh grandchild and fifth grandson was born, just minutes before I arrived that early Monday morning. All was well and peace reigned. There before me lay a quarter-hour-old babe
wrapped in a towel. A towel I had seen on bare bottoms coming from the tub, now over the bare and brand new of the world. He lay so softly as he left his mother's breast. He barely moved but to breathe and show his arms from the swaddle where he lay. It was once again brand new.
Now to Tuesday..I come to help and spend time with the other tots that sit at their breakfast table, ready for the new day. Still in their pajamas, life going on, baby brother sleeps close by.
Today though there will be a milestone of enormous proportions. I will gaze upon his gaze. He will open his eyes and I will be there. Eyes innocent and deep blue that they say cannot actually see what they are "staring" at. Yet he stares. I stare back and it occurs to me, "I wonder what it's like to see for the first time, to have no idea what you have before you, to have no real frame of reference? Nothing to blur your vision, no preconceived notion. What does innocence actually 'SEE'?
That wonder remained all week and each time I held him, like I had each grand baby before, I just wanted to look into his eyes,to take him in, to give him the chance to take me in, this body with no name just yet, this one named Marmee, how do we bond so quickly? But this time it occurred to me...how do we "SEE"? What lens do we use to stare into someone?
What does it take for us to truly gaze into a person's being? Gauge the situation? How hard is it to walk over our preconceived notions, the word from others, our own personal experience, the communication mega flood? Babies have none of that. They are able to monitor a small area that enlarges daily. They are registering what they hear and feel with senses that are completely pure. Watch their little faces when their mother or their daddy speaks to them...it's undeniable..they know them, but how?
With all my heart I believe that we all still have this pure ability to "SEE". The many forms of visual and audible communication are no substitute for what our spirits are able to show us. This is not mystical, or weird. It's who were meant to be....to hear the heart of God who wants to put within us all His great love for us, His deep desire to care for us, help us, comfort and calm us. He will help us to see like a babe if we just ask and believe the vision we once relied on, the newborn kind, is able to be restored. Able to be used in all areas where we find ourselves needy...I know I have many of those.
Just like the innocence of an infant, we are just as vulnerable. Able to be hungry, hurt. Needing to be comforted, protected, warmed and cleaned, nurtured...loved. Here we now stand...farther along in the process of age...walking upright...talking, smelling, hearing, ingesting. We are just older babies and we can see with new eyes....if we just will.
"as it is written:
'no eye has seen,
no ear has heard,
no mind conceived
what God has prepared for
those who love Him'
but God has revealed it to us by
His Spirit.
The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.
For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man's spirit within him?
In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.
We have not received the spirit of the world but
the Spirit who is from God,
that we may understand what God has freely given to us.
I Corinthians 2:9-12 NIV
wrapped in a towel. A towel I had seen on bare bottoms coming from the tub, now over the bare and brand new of the world. He lay so softly as he left his mother's breast. He barely moved but to breathe and show his arms from the swaddle where he lay. It was once again brand new.
Now to Tuesday..I come to help and spend time with the other tots that sit at their breakfast table, ready for the new day. Still in their pajamas, life going on, baby brother sleeps close by.
Today though there will be a milestone of enormous proportions. I will gaze upon his gaze. He will open his eyes and I will be there. Eyes innocent and deep blue that they say cannot actually see what they are "staring" at. Yet he stares. I stare back and it occurs to me, "I wonder what it's like to see for the first time, to have no idea what you have before you, to have no real frame of reference? Nothing to blur your vision, no preconceived notion. What does innocence actually 'SEE'?
That wonder remained all week and each time I held him, like I had each grand baby before, I just wanted to look into his eyes,to take him in, to give him the chance to take me in, this body with no name just yet, this one named Marmee, how do we bond so quickly? But this time it occurred to me...how do we "SEE"? What lens do we use to stare into someone?
What does it take for us to truly gaze into a person's being? Gauge the situation? How hard is it to walk over our preconceived notions, the word from others, our own personal experience, the communication mega flood? Babies have none of that. They are able to monitor a small area that enlarges daily. They are registering what they hear and feel with senses that are completely pure. Watch their little faces when their mother or their daddy speaks to them...it's undeniable..they know them, but how?
With all my heart I believe that we all still have this pure ability to "SEE". The many forms of visual and audible communication are no substitute for what our spirits are able to show us. This is not mystical, or weird. It's who were meant to be....to hear the heart of God who wants to put within us all His great love for us, His deep desire to care for us, help us, comfort and calm us. He will help us to see like a babe if we just ask and believe the vision we once relied on, the newborn kind, is able to be restored. Able to be used in all areas where we find ourselves needy...I know I have many of those.
Just like the innocence of an infant, we are just as vulnerable. Able to be hungry, hurt. Needing to be comforted, protected, warmed and cleaned, nurtured...loved. Here we now stand...farther along in the process of age...walking upright...talking, smelling, hearing, ingesting. We are just older babies and we can see with new eyes....if we just will.
"as it is written:
'no eye has seen,
no ear has heard,
no mind conceived
what God has prepared for
those who love Him'
but God has revealed it to us by
His Spirit.
The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.
For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man's spirit within him?
In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.
We have not received the spirit of the world but
the Spirit who is from God,
that we may understand what God has freely given to us.
I Corinthians 2:9-12 NIV
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Spring Visits
Feeling the breeze blow across my feet, my bare 
feet. They touched the ground today. It was perfect. The robins had foretold it yesterday, but this morning the wren made a call across the trees. Seems there is hope in the air...hope for spring.
feet. They touched the ground today. It was perfect. The robins had foretold it yesterday, but this morning the wren made a call across the trees. Seems there is hope in the air...hope for spring. Today, pulling back the pine straw that was piled high, dense against the most vulnerable plants, there sat pansies waiting to be discovered, lamb's ear tender with new sprouts, bulbs with green noses pointed to the sun. Oh, I love the spring....but it is too soon. Too soon to get fired up about sticking the summer bulbs in the ground. Too soon for no shoes...but today..while it was so promising..I chose to walk like it was spring. Dig like it was spring. Listen like it was spring.
When you hear kids squealing as they play in the streets...smell grills grilling....see robins pulling worms...watch the full moon come and go behind the traveling clouds...feel the sun on your back...your back without a coat...there is no way the calendar can stop you from wanting what you feel is coming.
Life is many times like that. There are days we want to see coming. Better days. Happier, healthier, calmer, more promising days. Sometimes our hope holds on by a thread. We've seen some signs, but logic says, "Don't get your hopes up." Sometimes it bubbles to the top anyway. Ofttimes
it takes Someone bigger than us to place a token of it in our hands. He is wonderful at doing that. He sees us. He's working on it all. He wants us to hang on to it.
Don't know what your day, week, month has handed you, but for you, my friend, is this:
"Now may the God of all hope
fill you with joy and peace
as you trust in HIM,
so that you may
overflow with hope
by the power of the Holy Spirit. "
Rom. 15:13
He is near. He is faithful. Reach across the ages and take His unseen hand. Clasp it tight. Hold on.
He is with you.
Spring is surely coming. You can count on it.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Happy Birthday, Susa Belle!
Happy Birthday, Susa Belle. I remember the day you came into my life. It was at my Aunt Millie's house. It was my birthday party. My birthday party and my cousin, Mike's. Mike is a girl, but they shortened her name.
We had a great cake and played games. Everyone stood around us as we opened our gifts. That's when I met you.
My momma handed me this beautiful package and I tore all the paper off by myself. It was a baby blue box with little writing on it and flowers all over. It said "Madame Alexander".( but I couldn't read then.) I took off the lid and pulled back the paper. And there you were! I couldn't believe you were mine. It made me smile and smile. I loved you right away.
Guess you wouldn't remember all the times we played together, but I do. I took you on wagon rides, and we had tea parties, you even got to go to my friend's house and play with her. There were more times than I can count that we spent the night together. I remember this because you weren't a "sit on a shelf" kind of friend. You were a "let's get busy having fun" kind of friend.
Your buttons are missing on the back of your dress and your hat has a hunk out of it. You lost your shoes while we were on the run one day and your ribbon belt is long since gone. Your hair needed combing a long time ago when I didn't care about mine either. We just had fun being together and that's why today, your first-day-out-of -the -box birthday is so special to me. I'm so glad my momma and daddy gave you to me.
So, Happy 54th Birthday, Susa Belle! We've lived a lot of life together and boy have we had fun!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Ethel Sally Miller Daniel
On February 9, 1977, I came home from work, ate dinner, and walked over to my grandmother's house to spend some time with her. That was a life long walk. From my house to my grandmother's. We lived next door to one another for so many years of my life.
She kept me everyday as a small child while my mom worked. She took me all over the world, my world, the Mississippi delta was our distant land. My days involved playing by myself, making my own imaginative world, running in and out of the house, barefoot and busy.
Mamaw spent her days making home..home. She cooked three meals a day. She fed the chickens, worked in her large garden and sometimes we would go into town. Her red 1949 Ford Fairlane sedan was always ready for the trip and she prepared me as well.
If you left the house for town you needed a scarf wrapped securely under you chin, Jergen"s lotion on your cheeks and coat buttoned up to the scarf. If it was cold you had pants on under your skirt. She detailed herself the same. Sitting in the front seat was just fine then. No air conditioning, so windows were rolled down for air on the hot days.
Making days interesting was not a pursuit, days were for just being busy. That could include gathering eggs, shelling beans, canning fruit from the orchard, sometimes in the winter...killing chickens or maybe a pig. Life just was what it was... a daily work to make sure the future didn't catch your dinner table empty.
Christmas brought new excitement as she made big plans about her gifts for all of her granddaughters. My favorite was the year she bought "Barbie" wardrobe cases for each of us and filled them with clothes she made herself, buying a little bag of shoes and tiny snaps, buttons and elastic. All of us were given a box complete with dresses, some with sequins across the front. The best part was watching her pick out the fabric and cut each one. Her projects were very much a part of her life. The sewing machine sat right in the middle of the living room.
When there was a dress needed, or even if there wasn't a need, she started pulling patterns and checking out fabric. You got a quick measurement and then she was on her way. Some of those clothes still lie in my cedar chest. One has been worn by my granddaughter. Her great, great.
There are times in your life when just everyday life takes on new meaning. An evening jaunt across the driveway could have been common place but the depth of the time was unimaginable. That evening, 2/9/1977, I was soon to move away, to the Gulf Coast. I was six months pregnant with my first child. This evening I knew my chances to sit and talk were coming to a close very soon. So we sat and chatted, she in her straight chair, me in the large upholstered. She just encouraged me in ways that were not specific,"You'll know what to do when the time comes. Don't get all upset over every little thing." A woman of few words giving a girl with many a small pep talk about parenting. No examples. No funny stories, just words, given softly and sweetly.
Little did we know that the next day would change everything. A call came to me at work, she had fallen...she was feeding the dog and fell down the steps.
Rushing the ten miles home, my dad and I found her sitting in a chair in the front yard. Nitroglycerin pills in hand. Pain all over her face. An ambulance came, a hip was replaced and I left her side at the hospital that night to pack up my house for the move. She told me she loved me, I told her back and she shooed me on my way. It was the perfect way to say good bye. I am so thankful for that. One move in the wrong direction and she was gone.
When you remember a life well lived, an ordinary day, a memorable conversation, it's like a depth that is hard to fathom, but the truth is that you feel it keenly because it can be a large portion of who you are. I just know that we are the sum of all the parts and many of my parts are stamped with the initials E S M D. I hope someday my grandchildren will say the same... PLTP.
"Strength and honor are her clothing;
She shall rejoice in time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom,
And on her tongue is the law of kindness.
She watches over the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her blessed.....
Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing,
But a woman who fears the Lord,
she shall be praised."
Proverbs 31:25-28a, 30
She kept me everyday as a small child while my mom worked. She took me all over the world, my world, the Mississippi delta was our distant land. My days involved playing by myself, making my own imaginative world, running in and out of the house, barefoot and busy.
Mamaw spent her days making home..home. She cooked three meals a day. She fed the chickens, worked in her large garden and sometimes we would go into town. Her red 1949 Ford Fairlane sedan was always ready for the trip and she prepared me as well.
If you left the house for town you needed a scarf wrapped securely under you chin, Jergen"s lotion on your cheeks and coat buttoned up to the scarf. If it was cold you had pants on under your skirt. She detailed herself the same. Sitting in the front seat was just fine then. No air conditioning, so windows were rolled down for air on the hot days.
Making days interesting was not a pursuit, days were for just being busy. That could include gathering eggs, shelling beans, canning fruit from the orchard, sometimes in the winter...killing chickens or maybe a pig. Life just was what it was... a daily work to make sure the future didn't catch your dinner table empty.
Christmas brought new excitement as she made big plans about her gifts for all of her granddaughters. My favorite was the year she bought "Barbie" wardrobe cases for each of us and filled them with clothes she made herself, buying a little bag of shoes and tiny snaps, buttons and elastic. All of us were given a box complete with dresses, some with sequins across the front. The best part was watching her pick out the fabric and cut each one. Her projects were very much a part of her life. The sewing machine sat right in the middle of the living room.
When there was a dress needed, or even if there wasn't a need, she started pulling patterns and checking out fabric. You got a quick measurement and then she was on her way. Some of those clothes still lie in my cedar chest. One has been worn by my granddaughter. Her great, great.
There are times in your life when just everyday life takes on new meaning. An evening jaunt across the driveway could have been common place but the depth of the time was unimaginable. That evening, 2/9/1977, I was soon to move away, to the Gulf Coast. I was six months pregnant with my first child. This evening I knew my chances to sit and talk were coming to a close very soon. So we sat and chatted, she in her straight chair, me in the large upholstered. She just encouraged me in ways that were not specific,"You'll know what to do when the time comes. Don't get all upset over every little thing." A woman of few words giving a girl with many a small pep talk about parenting. No examples. No funny stories, just words, given softly and sweetly.
Little did we know that the next day would change everything. A call came to me at work, she had fallen...she was feeding the dog and fell down the steps.
Rushing the ten miles home, my dad and I found her sitting in a chair in the front yard. Nitroglycerin pills in hand. Pain all over her face. An ambulance came, a hip was replaced and I left her side at the hospital that night to pack up my house for the move. She told me she loved me, I told her back and she shooed me on my way. It was the perfect way to say good bye. I am so thankful for that. One move in the wrong direction and she was gone.
When you remember a life well lived, an ordinary day, a memorable conversation, it's like a depth that is hard to fathom, but the truth is that you feel it keenly because it can be a large portion of who you are. I just know that we are the sum of all the parts and many of my parts are stamped with the initials E S M D. I hope someday my grandchildren will say the same... PLTP.
"Strength and honor are her clothing;
She shall rejoice in time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom,
And on her tongue is the law of kindness.
She watches over the ways of her household,
And does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her blessed.....
Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing,
But a woman who fears the Lord,
she shall be praised."
Proverbs 31:25-28a, 30
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Timeless Strength
God is our refuge and
strength,
an ever-present help in
trouble.
Therefore we do not fear,
though the mountains fall into the heart
of the sea,
though it's waters roar
and foam
and the mountains quake
with their surging.
There is a river whose streams
make glad the
city of God.
the holy place where the
Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar,
kingdoms fall;
He lifts His voice, the earth melts.
"The Lord Almighty is with us:
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Come and see the works of the Lord,
the desolations He has
brought upon the earth.
He makes wars to cease to the
ends of the earth;
He breaks the bow and the spear,
He burns the shields
with fire.
"Be still, and know that
I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth"
The Lord Almighty is
with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Psalm 46 ( emphasis is mine)
NIV translation of the Holy Bible
strength,
an ever-present help in
trouble.
Therefore we do not fear,
though the mountains fall into the heart
of the sea,
though it's waters roar
and foam
and the mountains quake
with their surging.
There is a river whose streams
make glad the
city of God.
the holy place where the
Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar,
kingdoms fall;
He lifts His voice, the earth melts.
"The Lord Almighty is with us:
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Come and see the works of the Lord,
the desolations He has
brought upon the earth.
He makes wars to cease to the
ends of the earth;
He breaks the bow and the spear,
He burns the shields
with fire.
"Be still, and know that
I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth"
The Lord Almighty is
with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Psalm 46 ( emphasis is mine)
NIV translation of the Holy Bible
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Judy Joy
In first grade I first encountered Judy Kathryn Beasley. Today is her birthday. She had the most amazing handwriting. As a first day of school went, it was horrible, but getting to sit at her table made it a bright shiny one. She was the best colorer. Everything was in the lines and all her crayon strokes were going in the same direction. Her Hair was long and brown. I really liked her from the very start.
It took a while for us to become friends but by second grade we were"Bests". That was the year we both got glasses. Cat-eye glasses. Third grade was the year that started our Barbie obsession. Fourth grade, we wrote a play together with our friend, Jane, and the three of us put it on for the whole fourth grade. Fifth, we fell in love with the same boy, who could have cared less. Sixth, we got excited about my baby sister being born. Seventh, we read Miss Dick's pick in English Literature, Jane Eyre and became Beatlemaniacs at the same time.
Eighth, our Beatlemania became obsession and we pretended we were married, she to Paul and me to Ringo. Letters were passed between classes as if we were on the road with them. We always cried when we heard or played "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." When "A Hard Day's Night " came out we decided on a movie marathon, crying and singing, seeing it three times in a row. We walked out completely delirious and full of big dill pickles. I still have the letter she wrote me from the Holiday Inn in Memphis the night she got to go and scream with with rest of the world as the fab four played to a packed coliseum. That only added to her charm.
Ninth made a dent in our one -on- one relationship when she fell in love. It was good to see her happy. She was always a cheerleader. Again, she was good at it. High school was the best of times and the worst of times. Guys got in between us and week-ends were consumed by dating, but our lives stayed intertwined. We had three years of art, two years of home ec and a year of mechanical drawing to add to our list of fun times. For two years we both worked part-time together. We wore each other's clothes and wrote each other notes, talking on the phone nightly.
When I think of Judy, I remember the I Corinthian 13 passage and think of her great way of loving folks. There was nothing selfish about her. She walked gracefully through some very difficult territory and remained poised and committed. Her natural way of just staying the course and doing her best made her a terrific student and friend. From the first sight of her until the last, I loved and admired her. I still do.
So today, what would have been her 59th birthday. I do my best to write a loving memory of how she changed the life of a little, chubby, cat-eye glasses, insecure girl. She would never know that when she died in September of 1970 she would be the catalyst to turn my big-girl life around. Her abrupt leaving of this world caused mine to change on it's axis. My selfish, hard heart was taken and broken and reconstructed. It was not an overnight change, but it reset my course and I ultimately began to flow in a whole new direction. Her sweet letter that lay on my dorm bed had just been read before I learned of her aneurysm. We loved each other til the end. She was just 18 and half years old.
So today, as I shed a new flow of fresh love in the form of tears, here is a word for you,
"Dear friends, let us love one another,
for love comes from God." 1 John 4:7
When God gives you special friends and they love you well, do not take that for granted. It is His great pleasure to give us this gift, this gift of companionship, this walk-alongsideness. If you have it, like I have had and have once again been blessed with, you, my friend, have been given
something that is a life-changing gift, a part of a great big plan for your life. Do not throw it away. Cherish it and it will bring life, even in the midst of tragedy. I am living proof of that.
Now...Happiest of Birthdays would be in order here on this earth, but since Judy's faith reward is eternal life, she celebrates everyday. Right now I'm drying my tears as I smile just remembering that.
It took a while for us to become friends but by second grade we were"Bests". That was the year we both got glasses. Cat-eye glasses. Third grade was the year that started our Barbie obsession. Fourth grade, we wrote a play together with our friend, Jane, and the three of us put it on for the whole fourth grade. Fifth, we fell in love with the same boy, who could have cared less. Sixth, we got excited about my baby sister being born. Seventh, we read Miss Dick's pick in English Literature, Jane Eyre and became Beatlemaniacs at the same time.
Eighth, our Beatlemania became obsession and we pretended we were married, she to Paul and me to Ringo. Letters were passed between classes as if we were on the road with them. We always cried when we heard or played "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." When "A Hard Day's Night " came out we decided on a movie marathon, crying and singing, seeing it three times in a row. We walked out completely delirious and full of big dill pickles. I still have the letter she wrote me from the Holiday Inn in Memphis the night she got to go and scream with with rest of the world as the fab four played to a packed coliseum. That only added to her charm.
Ninth made a dent in our one -on- one relationship when she fell in love. It was good to see her happy. She was always a cheerleader. Again, she was good at it. High school was the best of times and the worst of times. Guys got in between us and week-ends were consumed by dating, but our lives stayed intertwined. We had three years of art, two years of home ec and a year of mechanical drawing to add to our list of fun times. For two years we both worked part-time together. We wore each other's clothes and wrote each other notes, talking on the phone nightly.
When I think of Judy, I remember the I Corinthian 13 passage and think of her great way of loving folks. There was nothing selfish about her. She walked gracefully through some very difficult territory and remained poised and committed. Her natural way of just staying the course and doing her best made her a terrific student and friend. From the first sight of her until the last, I loved and admired her. I still do.
So today, what would have been her 59th birthday. I do my best to write a loving memory of how she changed the life of a little, chubby, cat-eye glasses, insecure girl. She would never know that when she died in September of 1970 she would be the catalyst to turn my big-girl life around. Her abrupt leaving of this world caused mine to change on it's axis. My selfish, hard heart was taken and broken and reconstructed. It was not an overnight change, but it reset my course and I ultimately began to flow in a whole new direction. Her sweet letter that lay on my dorm bed had just been read before I learned of her aneurysm. We loved each other til the end. She was just 18 and half years old.
So today, as I shed a new flow of fresh love in the form of tears, here is a word for you,
"Dear friends, let us love one another,
for love comes from God." 1 John 4:7
When God gives you special friends and they love you well, do not take that for granted. It is His great pleasure to give us this gift, this gift of companionship, this walk-alongsideness. If you have it, like I have had and have once again been blessed with, you, my friend, have been given
something that is a life-changing gift, a part of a great big plan for your life. Do not throw it away. Cherish it and it will bring life, even in the midst of tragedy. I am living proof of that.
Now...Happiest of Birthdays would be in order here on this earth, but since Judy's faith reward is eternal life, she celebrates everyday. Right now I'm drying my tears as I smile just remembering that.
Friday, January 28, 2011
When Messy Went Mod
Not too many years go when you saw a hamburger on an advertisement it was all neatly under the bun top. Pimento and cheese slathered smoothly over perfect bread. Clothes were always ironed. Shoes always clean. Everything matched. Rooms showed no sign of being lived in.
I noticed the change today like never before. My pimento and cheese looked perfect to me with small gaping holes in the coverage. Some cheese hanging over the sides. When did this come to be...this new presentation of what life is supposed to look like? I'm wondering.
Maybe messy came with "Shabby Chic", grunge, and recycling. But I'm thinking it came with
realization that the world is actually out of our control. From the sixties came the assassination of our president, later rioting and mass protests over a war we could not control. Later in the eighties we watched as our space program suddenly had a problem and we lost our crew before our very eyes. This very day in 1986. In the year 2001 we helplessly watched as a part of every picture of NYC skyline disappeared along with thousands of innocent people. Our war department attacked, our air traffic now shutdown, men and women taking their life in their hands and crashing a plane. A plane headed to destroy our nations capital or the White House. Now there are floods and major snow storms, political upheaval in many countries, near each other, all at the same time.
It's no wonder we see messy as mod.
What I love is that our order is no longer so focused on the external. It is where it should be and can be on the internal. Within the last few weeks, this has come across my path many times over:
"In this world you will have trouble.
But take heart!
I have overcome the world." Jesus , from John 16:33b
Just this morning:
"And surely I am with you always,
even to the very end of the age." Jesus last words in Matthew 28:20b
I find my heart gladdened every time I think on these words of His. He does have the last word.
He is the Alpha and the Omega. I am know this messy world was on His heart as He said those words so long ago....even then, we were on His heart, too.
I noticed the change today like never before. My pimento and cheese looked perfect to me with small gaping holes in the coverage. Some cheese hanging over the sides. When did this come to be...this new presentation of what life is supposed to look like? I'm wondering.
Maybe messy came with "Shabby Chic", grunge, and recycling. But I'm thinking it came with
realization that the world is actually out of our control. From the sixties came the assassination of our president, later rioting and mass protests over a war we could not control. Later in the eighties we watched as our space program suddenly had a problem and we lost our crew before our very eyes. This very day in 1986. In the year 2001 we helplessly watched as a part of every picture of NYC skyline disappeared along with thousands of innocent people. Our war department attacked, our air traffic now shutdown, men and women taking their life in their hands and crashing a plane. A plane headed to destroy our nations capital or the White House. Now there are floods and major snow storms, political upheaval in many countries, near each other, all at the same time.
It's no wonder we see messy as mod.
What I love is that our order is no longer so focused on the external. It is where it should be and can be on the internal. Within the last few weeks, this has come across my path many times over:
"In this world you will have trouble.
But take heart!
I have overcome the world." Jesus , from John 16:33b
Just this morning:
"And surely I am with you always,
even to the very end of the age." Jesus last words in Matthew 28:20b
I find my heart gladdened every time I think on these words of His. He does have the last word.
He is the Alpha and the Omega. I am know this messy world was on His heart as He said those words so long ago....even then, we were on His heart, too.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Where and When?
Today has been a day of headache and general blahs. Needing a kick-start, I'm seriously doing my best not to depend on a movie, TV or food to snap me out of it. I've fallen into marathon reading once again, but even that I'm holding at bay. You see I need to disappear for a while. Oh, I don't mean leave town, just be completely invisible. There are things in my future that are suspended in time and there is a real desire on my part to reach up and take control of them. That is exactly what I am not supposed to do.
"having done everything to stand, STAND therefore..." that has been the command to my heart in many areas before and it seems to be here once again. There is no danger, no illness to fear, no demand too heavy, no sorrow or concern upon my person. It's dreams and a knowing that there is an opportunity to see those dreams come to be. So close...so close.
A wise young friend voiced her need to trust the Marvelous Creator of our being. I, likewise,
am needing to trust..."He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it." I am awaiting His completion. His move. His showing me that things that seem as if they are not working..are indeed working. Last night there was a glimmer of progress and a call to my heart to hold steady and STAND.
I'm happy. I'm "stupified". I'm calm. I'm sure. I'm growing....and that's the hardest part. If I was "a big girl" I'd be beyond all wondering but I guess I'm not. So I'm still wishing I could go invisible and walk through a few situations and hear the voice of people involved...to know what they are really thinking. Wish Frodo would lend me his cloak.
Once again I hear "Trust in the Lord with all thy heart and lean not on thy own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge HIM and He will direct thy path." So since there are no obvious sign posts I'm going ahead, straight ahead, and believe that He's already made a way before me. Actually there is no safer place to STAND.
Eph. 6:10-18 (13b & 14a) ; Phil. 1:6 ;Prov. 3:5&6
"having done everything to stand, STAND therefore..." that has been the command to my heart in many areas before and it seems to be here once again. There is no danger, no illness to fear, no demand too heavy, no sorrow or concern upon my person. It's dreams and a knowing that there is an opportunity to see those dreams come to be. So close...so close.
A wise young friend voiced her need to trust the Marvelous Creator of our being. I, likewise,
am needing to trust..."He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it." I am awaiting His completion. His move. His showing me that things that seem as if they are not working..are indeed working. Last night there was a glimmer of progress and a call to my heart to hold steady and STAND.
I'm happy. I'm "stupified". I'm calm. I'm sure. I'm growing....and that's the hardest part. If I was "a big girl" I'd be beyond all wondering but I guess I'm not. So I'm still wishing I could go invisible and walk through a few situations and hear the voice of people involved...to know what they are really thinking. Wish Frodo would lend me his cloak.
Once again I hear "Trust in the Lord with all thy heart and lean not on thy own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge HIM and He will direct thy path." So since there are no obvious sign posts I'm going ahead, straight ahead, and believe that He's already made a way before me. Actually there is no safer place to STAND.
Eph. 6:10-18 (13b & 14a) ; Phil. 1:6 ;Prov. 3:5&6
Thursday, January 20, 2011
A Chance to Make It Right
Finished my first complete rewrite of my manuscript this evening. That's just the beginning. Any
piece I remove of it automatically causes a trickle-down effect. One rewrite starts another. The next one will be harder because I've got a lot of things that I'm going to delete. It'll be for the good of the story.
In my life there have been quite a few times I'd like to go back and get a chance to do it over...or at least I think I would. If I had done this then it would have effected that and on and on and on...there would be no end to the changes I would make. Or would I?
If I am who I say I am, a child of God, then I must believe that even myself at my worst is channeled into His Sovereign ability to work it for my good. I'm not saying it was me at my best, but me at my worst. It's just that one move automatically effects my life in ways I will never even be aware of. He will use it to make me who I am supposed to be...it may delay the plan, it may hurt ..but my story is written long or short by my own choices. My greatest challenge is the fact that my choices make a mark on other people, not just myself. For better or for worse. Those are the rewrites that are where the yearning lies. Regrets that need a balm of mercy from others.
In my book rewrite I'm on the look out for repetitions and misspelled words, incorrect grammar and unnecessary description. Those are all harmless in real life. Not being able to take back cruel words or unkind behavior is not. It is something that only a Forgiving Father can take away and I can pray that those who were harmed will themselves give me a rewrite..a chance at forgiveness.
So if I've hurt you in some way or caused you pain...please take this opportunity to know that I'd like to backspace in your heart and erase it all. That would be a perfect rewrite. It would be for the good of both of our stories.
piece I remove of it automatically causes a trickle-down effect. One rewrite starts another. The next one will be harder because I've got a lot of things that I'm going to delete. It'll be for the good of the story.
In my life there have been quite a few times I'd like to go back and get a chance to do it over...or at least I think I would. If I had done this then it would have effected that and on and on and on...there would be no end to the changes I would make. Or would I?
If I am who I say I am, a child of God, then I must believe that even myself at my worst is channeled into His Sovereign ability to work it for my good. I'm not saying it was me at my best, but me at my worst. It's just that one move automatically effects my life in ways I will never even be aware of. He will use it to make me who I am supposed to be...it may delay the plan, it may hurt ..but my story is written long or short by my own choices. My greatest challenge is the fact that my choices make a mark on other people, not just myself. For better or for worse. Those are the rewrites that are where the yearning lies. Regrets that need a balm of mercy from others.
In my book rewrite I'm on the look out for repetitions and misspelled words, incorrect grammar and unnecessary description. Those are all harmless in real life. Not being able to take back cruel words or unkind behavior is not. It is something that only a Forgiving Father can take away and I can pray that those who were harmed will themselves give me a rewrite..a chance at forgiveness.
So if I've hurt you in some way or caused you pain...please take this opportunity to know that I'd like to backspace in your heart and erase it all. That would be a perfect rewrite. It would be for the good of both of our stories.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Speaking of the Worthy One
Just felt like I had to speak of the beauty outside my window.
I'm so thankful to the Maker.
The snow has taken up residence here for ..how many days?
I'm so thankful to the real Weatherman.
The sun is spreading a gorgeous glow over all of it.
I'm so thankful to the Light of the world.
Our big red dog is all bright and shiny as she stalks the birds and fails to catch any one.
I'm so thankful that all creatures great and small were created to glorify their Creator.
The blanketed ground is baby blue in the shadows..reminds me of blue glaciers glow.
I'm so thankful for the unmeasurable expanse of God's hand.
Love knowing that my scene and the Italian's scene is so much alike...he in Colorado.
I am so thankful for the mountains and the valleys that proclaim the glory
of the One who alone is worthy to be thanked,
I'm so thankful to the Maker.
The snow has taken up residence here for ..how many days?
I'm so thankful to the real Weatherman.
The sun is spreading a gorgeous glow over all of it.
I'm so thankful to the Light of the world.
Our big red dog is all bright and shiny as she stalks the birds and fails to catch any one.
I'm so thankful that all creatures great and small were created to glorify their Creator.
The blanketed ground is baby blue in the shadows..reminds me of blue glaciers glow.
I'm so thankful for the unmeasurable expanse of God's hand.
Love knowing that my scene and the Italian's scene is so much alike...he in Colorado.
I am so thankful for the mountains and the valleys that proclaim the glory
of the One who alone is worthy to be thanked,
Friday, January 7, 2011
The Fight and the Snow Girl
Snow is everywhere. Guess we've gotten at least 7 or 8 inches. There are fifty pictures in my camera to prove it. It's beautiful and debilitating at the same time. Today, out of frustration with four-wheelers riding through our front yard, I decided to make my own snow girl.
She's only two feet tall. I finished just before dark and now I find myself walking by and turning on the outside lights to check on her. Made her hair out of dried hydranga blooms and pigtails out of dried pampus grass plums. Used dried apricots for her face and flowers from my vase for her buttons. She is doing fine but there is a funny kind of protectiveness that comes over you when you create something, at least for me it is. I want her to make it through until the thaw comes, and it will come.
Lately, I've had some serious concerns for my book. Maybe you don't know. I don't talk about it much. I'm reluctant to speak of it cause sometimes folks don't take you too seriously when you say you're a writer. Sometimes you get a nod or a raised- eyebrow nod,
but the truth is, if I am anything, I am a writer. ( Don't worry. This isn't a plug to buy my book.)
My concerns are giving me a real work out. You see, I truly have great trust in God's ability to make all things work together for my good because I am called according to His purpose . That's part of His word and I firmly believe it. But in all honesty, I am in the fight of my life to keep my faith from being tainted with fear, doubt and defeat. Moment by moment there is a need to reaffirm everything I know to be true. I was given the basic idea and almost all the main characters, names included, one day as I sat in my home. Grabbing a composition book, writing the main premise for the novel came to me and it's overall theme was amazing.
I believed in it from the start. But now, it's finished and the editing process and rewriting has started but it's so, not heading where I thought it would. The book is the same. The inspiration is the same but I think I may be scared it will never come to print.
Chances are I'm writing this just to help me put into words what a fight is going on inside of me. A couple of days ago I rewrote a great number of pages...crying over it the entire time. I love my story and completely believe that others will, too. But if you could hear what I hear in my mind at any given moment. It's a fight. It's a battle. It's hard. It's scary.
What I do know is that anything worth this much of anyone's life is worth fighting for. I find myself recommitting my work to the One who I believe gave me the inspiration in the first place. I'm learning to stay alert to what brings me down and what is true and what is not. I'm learning that my timing is not the final word and that to "trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not to my own understanding. In all my ways acknowledging Him and He will direct my paths" is not a simple walk in the park. It's a battle.
So pardon me while I wipe away a few more tears of weariness, honestly. The promise is, "They that wait upon the Lord, will renew their strength. They will mount up on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint." Is.40:31
I guess I failed to read the part about waiting..mounting up...running.... and walking. It's not just about renewal and not being weary and not fainting. It's about the living it and then the promises take place.
So here's to waiting and remaining hopeful for His timing. Here's to not expecting to dodge the weariness, the need for renewal. I need Him to bring me all that I need to make it through this and I know He will. He's not just checking in to see how I'm doing...He is always at work making sure I make it and it's His final product that will be perfect...not mine. He is God and I am not.
As for my snow girl....I'm still checking on her.
She's only two feet tall. I finished just before dark and now I find myself walking by and turning on the outside lights to check on her. Made her hair out of dried hydranga blooms and pigtails out of dried pampus grass plums. Used dried apricots for her face and flowers from my vase for her buttons. She is doing fine but there is a funny kind of protectiveness that comes over you when you create something, at least for me it is. I want her to make it through until the thaw comes, and it will come.
Lately, I've had some serious concerns for my book. Maybe you don't know. I don't talk about it much. I'm reluctant to speak of it cause sometimes folks don't take you too seriously when you say you're a writer. Sometimes you get a nod or a raised- eyebrow nod,
but the truth is, if I am anything, I am a writer. ( Don't worry. This isn't a plug to buy my book.)
My concerns are giving me a real work out. You see, I truly have great trust in God's ability to make all things work together for my good because I am called according to His purpose . That's part of His word and I firmly believe it. But in all honesty, I am in the fight of my life to keep my faith from being tainted with fear, doubt and defeat. Moment by moment there is a need to reaffirm everything I know to be true. I was given the basic idea and almost all the main characters, names included, one day as I sat in my home. Grabbing a composition book, writing the main premise for the novel came to me and it's overall theme was amazing.
I believed in it from the start. But now, it's finished and the editing process and rewriting has started but it's so, not heading where I thought it would. The book is the same. The inspiration is the same but I think I may be scared it will never come to print.
Chances are I'm writing this just to help me put into words what a fight is going on inside of me. A couple of days ago I rewrote a great number of pages...crying over it the entire time. I love my story and completely believe that others will, too. But if you could hear what I hear in my mind at any given moment. It's a fight. It's a battle. It's hard. It's scary.
What I do know is that anything worth this much of anyone's life is worth fighting for. I find myself recommitting my work to the One who I believe gave me the inspiration in the first place. I'm learning to stay alert to what brings me down and what is true and what is not. I'm learning that my timing is not the final word and that to "trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not to my own understanding. In all my ways acknowledging Him and He will direct my paths" is not a simple walk in the park. It's a battle.
So pardon me while I wipe away a few more tears of weariness, honestly. The promise is, "They that wait upon the Lord, will renew their strength. They will mount up on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint." Is.40:31
I guess I failed to read the part about waiting..mounting up...running.... and walking. It's not just about renewal and not being weary and not fainting. It's about the living it and then the promises take place.
So here's to waiting and remaining hopeful for His timing. Here's to not expecting to dodge the weariness, the need for renewal. I need Him to bring me all that I need to make it through this and I know He will. He's not just checking in to see how I'm doing...He is always at work making sure I make it and it's His final product that will be perfect...not mine. He is God and I am not.
As for my snow girl....I'm still checking on her.
Monday, January 3, 2011
That Sound from Below
My dog, fluffy white, is lying in my kitchen, grumbling. She starts low and escalates to almost a sound resembling a word. It goes on and on until I react and she ceases. Very sad. She is warm, dry, "clean", fed, watered, loved, talked to, given special treats,..... you know, spoiled.
This day, I kindof heard my own voice. The one that is warm, dry, "clean", fed, watered.....
and I thought "Is this the way I sound when I grumble?" It's probably more akin to nails scraping a chalkboard. But I go on in my head and out of my mouth, bemoaning my tragic estate. I hate this about second nature. It becomes so much a part of me. So...
I'm going to do my best not to complain. I want to say, "I'm going to stop complaining," but I know me and I forget. I'm not going to have just one more pity party before I quit. I'm not going to review my selfish petitions before the halt. I'm just going to go for a new direction.
"Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise." Now that's my plan. I'm actually a very grateful person. I live in an attitude of thankfulness, yet I habitually have some pet whining projects. Going to do my best to let them go. It's my gift to the Father of every good and perfect gift that comes down from Him. He's long ago known of my grievances. His mercy goes on forever.
"The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul;
The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple;
The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;
The commandment of the Lord is sure, enlightening the eyes;
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;
The judgements of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
Yea, than much fine gold;
Sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.
Moreover your servant is warned,
And in keeping them there is great reward........
Let the words of my mouth
and the meditations of my heart
Be acceptable in Your sight,
O Lord, my Strength and
my Redeemer." Psalm 19:7-11, 14 NKJV
This day, I kindof heard my own voice. The one that is warm, dry, "clean", fed, watered.....
and I thought "Is this the way I sound when I grumble?" It's probably more akin to nails scraping a chalkboard. But I go on in my head and out of my mouth, bemoaning my tragic estate. I hate this about second nature. It becomes so much a part of me. So...
I'm going to do my best not to complain. I want to say, "I'm going to stop complaining," but I know me and I forget. I'm not going to have just one more pity party before I quit. I'm not going to review my selfish petitions before the halt. I'm just going to go for a new direction.
"Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise." Now that's my plan. I'm actually a very grateful person. I live in an attitude of thankfulness, yet I habitually have some pet whining projects. Going to do my best to let them go. It's my gift to the Father of every good and perfect gift that comes down from Him. He's long ago known of my grievances. His mercy goes on forever.
"The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul;
The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple;
The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;
The commandment of the Lord is sure, enlightening the eyes;
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;
The judgements of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.
More to be desired are they than gold,
Yea, than much fine gold;
Sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.
Moreover your servant is warned,
And in keeping them there is great reward........
Let the words of my mouth
and the meditations of my heart
Be acceptable in Your sight,
O Lord, my Strength and
my Redeemer." Psalm 19:7-11, 14 NKJV
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