What is the meaning of this "black Friday" thing? For some reason this severly irritates me. Anybody else?
Yesterday was the US holiday that we call "Thanksgiving". I'm pretty sure everyone has someone and something to be thankful for and many know WHO to thank for it. So after sweet times with family and friends, more food than we could have imagined, children playing at our feet and babies crawling through the table legs, fragrant herbs holding their sensual ground, laughter, beautiful tables set to perfection, a tear filled Psalm read, a time of thanks for my Mom's release from the hospital just moments before, a prayer for us all and a spoken blessing by our hostess on us all for the coming year and the moment, .....how could I even begin to think of the day after that as Black Friday?
Today I sit trying to recover from so much joy. The warmed bowl of leftover dressing and smoked turkey at my right remind me of the blessing of food. The world is full of folks with less than one meal a day. The day beginning with a chat with my Mom recently having a heart scare. One of my friends losing her mother just a day before Thanksgiving...there are no guarantees of next moments life. The beauty of fellowship, family and friends filled with talk of hope and expectation. So many live fractured lives... torn apart by dissension and bitterness. Peace of life, for so many there is never peace where they live...war or no war. Coming back home to Christmas decorations lighting my way, so much illumination, yet so many with no light in their hearts. No sleep last night until 4:45, giving me lots of time to reflect on the blessings of the week. Seeing my nephew and his new bride, our new niece, sitting at our table now adorned with a wedding band on her finger. So many have not yet had this new beginning they so long for. Falling into a safe and comfortable bed to veg out watching "Miracle on 34th
Street" for the 34th time. So many know little of belief in anything...God or, well, anything other than themselves. I just cannot, for the sake of multitudinous value packed opportunities to further my giving experience, call this day Black Friday.
so happy "Day After You Count Your Blessings", and enjoy the shopping and may you too have a warm bowl of leftovers!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
The Giving of Thanks
Gratitude is a strengthener. When all is not well, go for the remembrance of what is well. Many years ago, in a difficult time, I stood frozen by confusion and despair. In my heart I heard,
"Strengthen what remains." Actually I didn't understand at first but then it became clear.
When nothing else seems to be working, when no one else seems to be listening, when all that you know is that you don't know, then you remember what is unshakable in your life.
So as I consider Thanksgiving Day, I am forever thankful for God's preservation of this country. For the many lost causes that would seem to destroy us but by His hand we, as a country, have endured. for the lives given....for the lives set free... for the beauty and majesty of the natural land that is ours to call our own...for freedom and opportunity....for hands of compassion that reach out beyond our borders... for the ability to speak our mind, our beliefs...for a protective system of laws enforced by people who have sworn to protect and do so placing their own lives in harms way....for music and art and creativity encouraged...for free education and clean water....
I can go on and on.
This is a land blessed from it's beginning and we have been given an opportunity to understand that. Because I understand that, I am truly full of THANKSGIVING.
"Strengthen what remains." Actually I didn't understand at first but then it became clear.
When nothing else seems to be working, when no one else seems to be listening, when all that you know is that you don't know, then you remember what is unshakable in your life.
So as I consider Thanksgiving Day, I am forever thankful for God's preservation of this country. For the many lost causes that would seem to destroy us but by His hand we, as a country, have endured. for the lives given....for the lives set free... for the beauty and majesty of the natural land that is ours to call our own...for freedom and opportunity....for hands of compassion that reach out beyond our borders... for the ability to speak our mind, our beliefs...for a protective system of laws enforced by people who have sworn to protect and do so placing their own lives in harms way....for music and art and creativity encouraged...for free education and clean water....
I can go on and on.
This is a land blessed from it's beginning and we have been given an opportunity to understand that. Because I understand that, I am truly full of THANKSGIVING.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Of War and Freedom
The sounds came early and thundering. There is an ordinance against fireworks in the city of Franklin, Tennessee. Surely no one would be so brazen as to shoot off that many rounds and repeat it in semi-regular intervals. Then I heard the heavier blasts. I stood outside on Battle Ave. It was a fine fall day for playing in the finally fallen leaves of several ancient trees. The ancients that sit on property that has been part of the city for over 125 years. There as we played chase, hide and seek, wagons rides and swinging from the ancient trees, the sounds went on. Ashamedly I forgot that it was the reenactment of the battle of Franklin, as in the Civil War. The sounds went on periodically all day.
That evening as I walked outside at 9:00 the sounds came once again. Could it be that a battle could go on all day and into the night? It never occurred to me that it was possible. But then, what would I know of war? Living in Vicksburg, Mississippi and playing in the battlefields there did not have any effect on my thinking evidently. I had walked the National Military Park, stood at the foot of impressive monuments, read lists of the war dead in certain locations, but never felt the war. The blasts from artillery finally pushed me over to reality.
But beyond that, I had a dream in the early hours of the morning. I was standing in a home we had once owned. It was in the most historical part of our city. It had windows that faced a horse farm across the road that had been part of a settlement from the 1800's. I loved living there.
But in this dream, upon opening the double front doors, I found myself standing behind a family assembled in order to have a picture made. Seeing only their backs, I heard the photographer speaking to them but it seemed a somber occasion. I heard the puffing sound and saw the smoke as he held his lantern up and took their picture. I immediately shut the doors so as not to be in their way, but realized I was not actually part of this scene. Looking out of the window I saw them, dressed in dark colors and embracing several men in their midst. The men were wearing uniforms, civil war uniforms, and the women were indeed dressed in the same period, their time in history.
Then, across the lawn I watched as the men left to follow other men marching down the road. The Irish stacked stone fences stood there as they would have in the real time. Soon coming behind them was another group of soldiers carrying flags that were war torn and shabby just as the soldiers uniforms.
Soon a line of soldiers carrying fresh flags appeared but behind them rolled wagons filled with wooden caskets covered with American and Confederate flags. Finally, the last line followed, uniforms tattered, some wounded, all weary and at the end was only an American flag. The drums tapped softly all along the way.
I felt the weight of it for the first time. The battles were real and the war was painful, brutal, and changed the face of this nation and it's families. The human toll unimaginable. Later that evening I tuned in to public television and there it was. The last installment of Ken Burns', "The Civil War". I had to watch it and had to write this.
I don't know about you, but I've lived a pretty protected life. I don't have physical battle scars. I've never spent a night holding a weapon to defend myself or to go after anyone else. Some of you have. It is happening all over this world every hour of every day.
I don't want to take war as a matter of fact. I also don't really want to experience it..in any form.
But knowing that someone paid a price for me and you and for freedom and for life, I am responsible for how I treat it. Those dream people represented families changed forever by a war. A war that could have destroyed our nation forever, but it didn't.
I am so aware that so many free nations do not get to keep their freedom when their war is over.
I am so thankful that we did. We are the United States of America, one nation, under God,
indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Lord, don't ever let me take this for granted again.
That evening as I walked outside at 9:00 the sounds came once again. Could it be that a battle could go on all day and into the night? It never occurred to me that it was possible. But then, what would I know of war? Living in Vicksburg, Mississippi and playing in the battlefields there did not have any effect on my thinking evidently. I had walked the National Military Park, stood at the foot of impressive monuments, read lists of the war dead in certain locations, but never felt the war. The blasts from artillery finally pushed me over to reality.
But beyond that, I had a dream in the early hours of the morning. I was standing in a home we had once owned. It was in the most historical part of our city. It had windows that faced a horse farm across the road that had been part of a settlement from the 1800's. I loved living there.
But in this dream, upon opening the double front doors, I found myself standing behind a family assembled in order to have a picture made. Seeing only their backs, I heard the photographer speaking to them but it seemed a somber occasion. I heard the puffing sound and saw the smoke as he held his lantern up and took their picture. I immediately shut the doors so as not to be in their way, but realized I was not actually part of this scene. Looking out of the window I saw them, dressed in dark colors and embracing several men in their midst. The men were wearing uniforms, civil war uniforms, and the women were indeed dressed in the same period, their time in history.
Then, across the lawn I watched as the men left to follow other men marching down the road. The Irish stacked stone fences stood there as they would have in the real time. Soon coming behind them was another group of soldiers carrying flags that were war torn and shabby just as the soldiers uniforms.
Soon a line of soldiers carrying fresh flags appeared but behind them rolled wagons filled with wooden caskets covered with American and Confederate flags. Finally, the last line followed, uniforms tattered, some wounded, all weary and at the end was only an American flag. The drums tapped softly all along the way.
I felt the weight of it for the first time. The battles were real and the war was painful, brutal, and changed the face of this nation and it's families. The human toll unimaginable. Later that evening I tuned in to public television and there it was. The last installment of Ken Burns', "The Civil War". I had to watch it and had to write this.
I don't know about you, but I've lived a pretty protected life. I don't have physical battle scars. I've never spent a night holding a weapon to defend myself or to go after anyone else. Some of you have. It is happening all over this world every hour of every day.
I don't want to take war as a matter of fact. I also don't really want to experience it..in any form.
But knowing that someone paid a price for me and you and for freedom and for life, I am responsible for how I treat it. Those dream people represented families changed forever by a war. A war that could have destroyed our nation forever, but it didn't.
I am so aware that so many free nations do not get to keep their freedom when their war is over.
I am so thankful that we did. We are the United States of America, one nation, under God,
indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Lord, don't ever let me take this for granted again.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Morning Breaks Golden
As the sun rises over the tree- lined field, a magnificent display takes place. For just a few precious moments a priceless treasure is on display... the sunshine on the cedars. There before my eyes shines a glow of golden light across the trunks of these old trees, pruned with all their green on top. Bringing me an opportunity to worship the One who created splendid moments like this. The Light of the world. The Beauty of His holiness. What a magnificent treasure and gone in a matter or minutes. Every morning I awake and look at the windows before rising, just to see if indeed I have not missed it. Sometimes I do.
You see, last year I heard in my heart, "If a miracle was right in front of you, you would miss it."
This as I drove across our county on a highway with tall walls of stone left marked by the blasting it takes to cut a highway out of high hills made of pure rock. At that moment, the hearing moment, I turned my head to the left and coming from far above the wall came a strong splashing waterfall. Windows rolled up, left ear deaf, I would never have even known it was gushing and causing all around it to glisten in the morning sun. Ice had thawed from deep inside and now it had it's release. What a terminal natural treasure.
A couple of days later, riding down one of my usual country roads, I look to my right and in that instant a Holstein cow was standing at the edge of the rambling stream on a familiar pasture.
Just as we passed I saw her fall over sideways into the stream. Later, returning home we saw her back up on all fours, chewing her way around the field.
This may seem like meaningless babble, but the truth is life is made up of many moments that are fleeting at best. We have missed so much. Today, as I walked with my 3 year old granddaughter, hand in hand, she looked straight ahead and said, "Marmee, you are very special to me." Without a thought I replied, "Audrey, you are very special to me, too. Do you know why we are special?"
"No."
"Because Jesus made us that way."
She nodded her little head and said, "Yes, He does."
That little, soft voice cannot always be heard by my weakened ears, but today I was listening. Given the ability to hear her say something I needed to hear. Maybe she needed to hear my reply.
What path do you tread everyday? Could it be that there are miracles all around and you've, I've, missed an opportunity to see them, hear them, experience them. Take a new look at what's around you. See with new eyes, hear with new ears, be open to laughter, delight, joy and hand holding. Don't miss the miracles.
"For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts....you will go out with joy and be lead forth in peace ; the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you and all the trees of the fields will clap their hands." Isaiah 55: 9 & 12
You see, last year I heard in my heart, "If a miracle was right in front of you, you would miss it."
This as I drove across our county on a highway with tall walls of stone left marked by the blasting it takes to cut a highway out of high hills made of pure rock. At that moment, the hearing moment, I turned my head to the left and coming from far above the wall came a strong splashing waterfall. Windows rolled up, left ear deaf, I would never have even known it was gushing and causing all around it to glisten in the morning sun. Ice had thawed from deep inside and now it had it's release. What a terminal natural treasure.
A couple of days later, riding down one of my usual country roads, I look to my right and in that instant a Holstein cow was standing at the edge of the rambling stream on a familiar pasture.
Just as we passed I saw her fall over sideways into the stream. Later, returning home we saw her back up on all fours, chewing her way around the field.
This may seem like meaningless babble, but the truth is life is made up of many moments that are fleeting at best. We have missed so much. Today, as I walked with my 3 year old granddaughter, hand in hand, she looked straight ahead and said, "Marmee, you are very special to me." Without a thought I replied, "Audrey, you are very special to me, too. Do you know why we are special?"
"No."
"Because Jesus made us that way."
She nodded her little head and said, "Yes, He does."
That little, soft voice cannot always be heard by my weakened ears, but today I was listening. Given the ability to hear her say something I needed to hear. Maybe she needed to hear my reply.
What path do you tread everyday? Could it be that there are miracles all around and you've, I've, missed an opportunity to see them, hear them, experience them. Take a new look at what's around you. See with new eyes, hear with new ears, be open to laughter, delight, joy and hand holding. Don't miss the miracles.
"For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts....you will go out with joy and be lead forth in peace ; the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you and all the trees of the fields will clap their hands." Isaiah 55: 9 & 12
Morning Call
Each morning as I lay sleeping I am awakened by our Golden's long bark across the field to an unseen friend that is calling, barking from streets unknown. This is my wake-up call. You see, I don't sleep well and usually I get back in bed around 5:00 to start all over again. Trying to sleep. Wide awake at 3:10 many, many dark mornings. My precious husband, many many times, comes into the living room, finding me curled up, asleep in a big chair, afghan wrapped around like a corn dog. He wakes me up and leans over to find my glasses that have made their way to the floor. Standing me to my feet, he says, "Why don't you go get back in the bed and get a little more sleep? I'm going to make myself a little coffee." Every resleeping morning.
Resleeping is my new normal. It only takes a few minutes and I'm right back at it. He has a very hard time making himself wake me though. That's where the Golden comes in handy. He lets her out for a real romp at about 7:30, knowing that she will sound her greetings loud enough for the streets-over dog and I will awake with out any effort on any one's part, but the dog.
I've always known my husband, the Italiano, was smart, but he is also merciful. All it took was one birthday day gift of a dog to get a customized alarm clock. How great is that? A benefit I never even imagined.
Resleeping is my new normal. It only takes a few minutes and I'm right back at it. He has a very hard time making himself wake me though. That's where the Golden comes in handy. He lets her out for a real romp at about 7:30, knowing that she will sound her greetings loud enough for the streets-over dog and I will awake with out any effort on any one's part, but the dog.
I've always known my husband, the Italiano, was smart, but he is also merciful. All it took was one birthday day gift of a dog to get a customized alarm clock. How great is that? A benefit I never even imagined.
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