Saturday, November 6, 2010

Polka Dot Paper

Opening my refrigerator, a small round piece of paper floated to the floor. Picking it up I wondered why it has been posted on the door in the first place. Before tossing into the trash can I took a closer look. There in better light was a tiny, unable to be identified, drawing. I have it now at my side as I post this.

Some sweet grandchild had handed it to me and I had made a point of keeping it. They do this alot and no one enjoys it more than me. One of my grandsons, Whitaker, has learned a new thing. He says, "Momma, watch!...Dada, watch!" to his parents as he shows them something he can do. I love this time of their lives when they think anything they do is a special gift to everyone around them. They know we really love their art work, singing songs and doing little dances. They don't hesitate to come, with books in hand, and sit down with me for a read.
Such innocence.

We were all that way once. We thought that the world was a kind place to live and everyone rejoiced with you in all your achievements. Our eyes were on the beautiful and the beautiful was determined by our eyes.... not the eyes of someone else.

I don't really know about you, but I despise that our minds have been ripped apart from that. Oh, I know that growing up is living in reality, but why does it have to be so....rough. Why can't we hold onto some profound joy in just being alive? Just wondering....

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it. (Italics mine..Mark 10:14-15) This pure statement alone should help us all to walk as if only someone who cares is watching. As for me, I'm thinking that even this blog God would put up on His refrigerator. He loves me that much....just like He loves you.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Ornaments

Checking with resale shops for an item and found a display counter full of some one's old Christmas ornaments, clustered together in zip lock bags. Each bag was completely different. The first had more child-like orbs with a roll of ribbon. Another had several Hallmark ones of cartoon characters. One bag had a definite appeal to people of one particular nationality. Some bags had been dropped and the most delicate of all had turned into thin shards of beautiful metallic chaos. Just looking through them gave me a sense that I could almost get the gist of their all around interest and tastes. I didn't mean to, but I knew if they had been trying for a theme or just for practicality, like those most likely not to break. Now I bet you've already begun to think of what you might see in them, too.

Now, what do my Christmas ornaments say about me? I'm guessing that first they would tell a story of a pack rat who cannot release her hold on anything that might have a shred of a good memory attached to it. That's pretty true. Then they'd show the price tags of some that were great bargins but never even unpacked or hung. Next they'd make sure the number of storage tubs alone would shame a normal person, but after opening them you'd see why. Some are pretty special but one box alone has the most important dangles in it.

It's a red striped, soft-sided box that sits alone on the shelf. In case of emergency it would be the go-to object to leave the garage. Inside of this treasure chest are the ones embedded with memories that pull me straight back to my "little girls" lives. There is one made from construction paper cut out like a tree that stands on a re purposed plastic stick. All ten finger prints are on it , all in blue, red and yellow. There is the school picture on an egg covered in paraffin that keeps disappearing from the tree after it's subject comes over to visit. There's the small tin frozen juice lid that has a star punched into it with a hammer. Then there's the collectible angels, small nativity, first Christmas wooden soldier, and the old Christmas cards pasted together with a yarn loop inside. So many more, but now you know. I've got a lot of decorations, but when it all comes down to it, there are some I can't do without.

but then, that's the deal. I love my sweet memories more than I love my stuff. I'm trying to capture them in a single box. Do I really need a box to hold them? Of course not. But it's fun to try and to allow my mind to be reminded of a few I've forgotten. Now I bet those folks who discarded all the little Christmas trinkets are just like me, those were the ones they didn't miss. Hopefully somebody else will make a memory with them someday. You really don't need a box to collect some priceless treasures.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Out of the Quiet

Out of the quiet I was wondering....where does one go when there is no place to hide? I truly needed a place to hide for a couple of days. There was not any place that I had at my disposal to run and find a hole to crawl into. Have you ever had a time like that when disappointments hang like wet denim on your head? Where there is not a thing that can put your mind at ease because there is no real purpose in sight; purpose for hiding...purpose from what you are hiding from. Just trying to make it all better was not easy. So much to wonder about, how I missed up so bad, how another friend could be so close to death, how it could be that I've flunked another test of life, how to stay in a holding pattern and learn to learn as I'm doing it, how could I have another injured body part? Big sigh. Eeyore had nothing on me.

but... in the midst...there was some joy! Babies being born in the family, pansies that restarted after days without being planted, watered, and protected. There was a phone call from a friend and a card from another, a note of encouragement from another. There was Thanksgiving recipes and decorations to unpack. There was the love of grandchildren and daughters....none knowing I needed ...well, love. Guess there was something to help me cope with life without a hole to climb into.

but...more than all that....I'd had more than a few conversations with the One who could DO something about all this hiding preoccupation. I'd been totally honest about my part pity , part loss, part fear party. I'd walked beside some still waters, sat down in some green pastures, and slowly allowed Him to restore my soul. Today I can see a little clearer, and walk and talk at the same time, carry no burdens that remain, grieve with hope and plan on making things happen where I can. He is like that. That "restores my soul" clause is as real as the nose on my face. It takes a minute to see it sometimes, especially when I'm looking so hard at myself. It might get lost in the shuffle of trying to "busy up and get over it". It sometimes is a little hard to accept if I've gotten comfortable with what is frustrating me. But He who is faithful is also patient and He'll still be here when I get over it, just longing for me to have done it sooner.

So, here's to the quiet when it's for listening to His voice and not bringing any of my own baggage with it.

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths for His righteousness sake.
And even if I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.
For You are with me .
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil.
My cup runs over.
Surely, goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and
I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever."

(from the Old Testament of the Holy Bible, Psalm 23)

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Autumn Dust

To the pumpkins we went....Gentry's Farm to be exact. The day was beautiful, the children excellent, the dust plentiful. It is very dry here and has some side effects. It seem corn mazes are larger since no one's corn made it this year. That's not good. Better mazes make not corn on the cob plentiful. When kids run dust follows like little clouds around their feet. That makes for diapers full of dirt. When children cry they wipe their faces and create a muddy smudge like little urchins. When parents come for photo opportunities you have to dodge every interesting location because you may be in a stranger's memory book someday. All our little ones went home smudgy and weary from all the fun. A wonderful way to spend a glorious fall day even if you have to pay.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Is it Love?

Random thought came to mind...not even contemplating it... Do I prefer approval or or do I prefer love? They are not the same. It got me wondering, which is it? Taken me a while to hash this out but it occurs to me that I seem to seek approval a lot. Very aware that I'm not on some folks top ten list of "people to be around". It's how it effects me that is troubling. What does that knowledge do to me? How does it effect my own thought processes? How much do I ponder the disappointment? How long do I work on bettering my standings? How much mind-time has it taken, for goodness sake?!



I decided to take a long look at this in person by person encounters. When I talk or interact with anyone, and I'm in a "noticing" kind state of mind, I ask myself, " Did I make any adjustment in who I was to meet their criteria? You already know the answer, "Yes, I did."
What that made me realize is that I am a definite "people-pleaser". That is very crippling.
So where does this take me? It helps me to quit denying that I am a people- pleaser and face my own music. Now this will be an on-going restructuring of my thought patterns, but at least I'm on my way to authentic renewal.



I Corinthians 13 is always my way of making sure I am practicing love in it's most perfect nuances. But how about me, maybe it's time I reviewed the relationships that confound me.
I'm honestly taking those that I am concerned about and go over those same "Love Chapter" statements and test the , well, test the love there. This is not for the faint hearted. It's very revealing. Take that challenge with me, ask those hard questions of a relationship that is perplexing, maybe even destructive. Now I'm not saying judge them, just give the reality of what you know to be true, like a real live tuneup, and opportunity to open your eyes a little. Beware. You will find out a lot more about your self than you will about them.



You see, we are not perfect lovers. We want to be, in our own selfish way, but the only true lover is God Himself through Christ Himself. Huge standard but worthy of at least trying to emulate.



So, now back to me. I realize that it's mostly about approval with me. I'm sorry about that. I've confessed it and asked for forgiveness which, by the way, is a large component of LOVE. Now I'm praying that I seek sincere love from others and forget the approval rating. If they are unable or unwilling to reciprocate, that's their deal. But as for me, I want to give love and not even consider what someone's predisposition is toward me. I'm ready to be free from the check list that has nothing eternally significant on it. I want to fly in the face of a civilization that has become completely taken over by , what I call, the "hip factor". I'm not hip because at this point age is the first thing to remove you from the "hip list".



Now here's to covering everyone with the love that sometimes eludes me. No exceptions. You know of course that this kind of love is named "unconditional". It has been practiced through the ages by One who is totally trustworthy and loves us all...who specifically sent His only Son to this earth to die for us...no approval necessary... no exceptions.



This is the deal, I'm trying right now not to even consider what you will think of this blog. It's a fight but it's worth it, because whoever you are... I love you...no exceptions...approval or not...but if I have to make a choice...I'll choose love.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

pumpkins on parade

It has already started...the pumpkin and scarecrow show. I'm not late, I couldn't possibly be. It is the second of October, for goodness sake! Just riding through the countryside this morning you could already see the minivans piling up in the driveways of the pumpkin farms. I'm acting like I'm bewildered but , in all honesty, I'm not...I'm thrilled.

There is absolutely nothing like a fall morning and freshly stacked pumpkins waiting in patient piles for families to come and buy. The children come dressed in varied degrees of country attire. Some in their overalls, but most in their jeans. Babies grab the little pumpkins while moms run to catch them before they are thrown like a ball. Bigger kids get to run the hay bale maze. All have a chance to put their faces in the circle cut out of a giant wooden pumpkin made for parents to take their pictures.

Being a certified country girl, I have always felt sorry for anyone who hadn't been chased by a rooster, or planted a garden or gathered fresh eggs still scarred from a hen's behind.. That was an intrical part of life as a child. Now it has been so long ago, that country life, that I find myself seeking out the replicas just like everyone else. Maybe that's the point in pumpkin patches complete with hayrides, we as a people are actually trying to catch a glimpse and a scent of life on a farm.

Just last month one of my magazines had a story about overnighting at a farm and helping out as part of the deal. You can gather eggs, harvest vegetables, feed livestock or sit by the pool and veg out. What a deal. My grandmother would have had a hard time believing that was meant to be a "Secret Farm Hideaway" meant to "tap into rural life." I'm not criticizing our civilization just making a mental note that if one would again like to reunite with the country life my best advice is to bring your checkbook, but oh the fun you would have...