MANY TOUCHES of GOLD

Dark roiling clouds gathered over Tennessee and the newly turned “matte” brown football field; the game would start soon. Ah, if only the rain held off. The lowering sky held many layers and hues of somber, ominous colors. I embarrassed my family, but huddled anyway under a clean, white, plastic garbage bag found in the backseat of my car.

 The raindrops were small, fast, and hard; I was hoping they would pass over quickly. However, as far as I could see over my shoulder, the heavens were playing a dark “cover-all” game, and I was losing.

 Yes! The phrase “The things we do for family know no bounds!” kept flashing through my mind as I sat there on this cold November day in this cold November rain. The band and my majorette would soon start; I would rejoice, and enjoy the performance, feeling great pride! Knowing after the “half time” show my husband and I would hop in our warm, cozy car and head for Kentucky aided in my comfort.

 Then God sent a spectacular thing to capture my attention and get my thoughts away from “woe!” ~ I may be the only person in the whole stadium to have noticed; I was so awe-struck; I found myself speechless. I didn’t want to spoil the moment by calling attention to it, or trying to explain what just happened with words…

As I peeped from under the white plastic on my head I spotted, flying in from the south, an enormous flock of large, fat, drab birds. I thought, “They look so miserable and dreary.” They were non-reflective and black due to the murky evening. I watched as they carved their way in an arc aiming their flight towards the east and then swooped around to the left, and headed north flying over the mid-field.

 With nothing else to hold my attention, I continued to watch their flight-path. Suddenly, from the horizon behind the stadium, the hand of God made a sliver of a crack in the dense shroud of grayness and a late autumn shaft of sunlight broke through. It lasted only for seconds; it was not enough to warm or dry me, but it set on fire the birds above. As they were banking with left wings tilted upward and bellies exposed, their undersides turned into rippling liquid gold. They captured me as they shone and gleamed in the quick flash of sunshine, they were emblazoned on my eyes, and in my heart. Oh thank you Father for sharing this with me! The rare sight warmed me, and sent my mind on spiritual a path. It was the Lord’s pre-game show. Then, in the blink of an eye, they straightened their bodies and changing their course they turned back into the indiscernibleness and flew away.
 
 After a time I ask my husband, “Did you see those birds?”
 “The ones that just flew over?”
 “Yes, those. What were they?”
 “They were just Pigeons.”
 “Oh.”

 The gentle glow remained with me, and as I (more) gracefully endured discomfort, I thought of the wonders of my heavenly Father; His mercy, grace, and understanding for one of the least of His children. Did He remove me from my “uncomfortable” zone? No! Did He clear up the bad weather? No! Did He bless me “in the middle of it all” with something tangible? No! However, He most certainly did bless me “in the middle of it all” with an experience, one transporting me to His presence! He surprised; He delighted, and taught me (once again) to live beyond my circumstances.

 I have used such a small and insignificant (on my part) example… there was no desperate need, or life-and-death situation, just me being rather petulant. I think the Lord wasn’t enjoying my mood. But, because He loves me, He favored me with just the slight of His hand. And, knowing me so well; He personally touched an inner place, quickening me to Himself. He being actively aware of my small inconveniences, causes me to think about the depth of His concern, and His solving power over the large issues we, as His children, face in this earthly life. He is our true source, and the only answer to every want, at all levels and in each happenstance.

 The band was great, the twirler was beautiful and perfect; I was thrilled tho’ chilled! The game, sad to say, was of no consequence to us; we were there for the show, and it was over, and so were we.

 In a reflective state, I bid my family a loving good-bye, the weather no longer mattering; the countdown had already started until we could be together again.

 Our car seats are soft and dry. The radio turned med-low; a small battle ensued over elevator music and “old school” jazz; I won. While being lulled by the (sometimes hidden) melodies, I slowly drift into a semi-trance where the scenery passes by in a Technicolor blur; I don’t notice every single separate limb, branch or twig just the ambiance of the whole view from my window. There, just ahead flying low over the busy highway is a flock of dark gloomy birds. I hold my breath. I am aware; in this moment, everything is as it should be in my world. I slowly exhale praise, and a prayer.
 ~~

Ah, the lowly pigeon, once a sacrifice for sin; then came the Lamb, true atonement for men.

"But if he cannot afford a lamb, then he shall bring for his guilt offering to the Lord two turtledoves or two young pigeons, one for a sin offering and the other for a burnt offering. (Leviticus 5:6-8 Amplified Bible) God sacrificed Jesus on the altar of the world to clear that world of sin. Having faith in him sets us in the clear. God decided on this course of action in full view of the public ~ to set the world in the clear with himself through the sacrifice of Jesus, finally taking care of the sins he had so patiently endured. This is not only clear, but it’s now ~ this is current history! God sets things right. He also makes it possible for us to live in his rightness." (Romans 3:25-26 Amplified Bible)
 AMEN

DOUBLE T'S. (Thanksgiving-Tennessee)

There are many things to be grateful for in this harvest season and in this season of my life. I am so thankful for family far and near, and the fact my Hubby and I are still traveling, and enjoying all the time we can with each.  These fall days we are visiting, and enjoying Kingston, TN. May I share my heart-thanks not only for all of my family but for this beautiful God-blessed area he has placed along a river, a lake and settled among gorgeous steep ridges and whisper quiet hollows.

I find there is excitement along the winding, rising and falling local roads of the East Tennessee ridge country. They are intriguing as well as amazing. I have many "holding my breath" moments.There are sharp, short curves, not to be seen around ahead of time, no long sweeping vistas, unless you are peering down from high above the valleys on an interstate speed-way! Care to come for a ride?

When driving, I never know what is waiting around the bend; the road (for the most part) holds my complete attention. From the corner of my eye, I appreciate the glory of gently colored turning leaves, an event which is late in arriving this year.

Occasionally, there are wisps of smoke rising from chimneys hidden deep in the woods, and I realize how heavily populated this area is even though camouflaged by wild, free beauty.  I don’t dare to scan the trees as I would like, for the shoulders of the roads are close, and I sometime tend to veer where I am looking.

Though my eyes hold a steady bead on the road; my thoughts are prone wander. The branches of the hardy growth and undergrowth reach out to entice me, and cause me, in my mind, to skip through the patterns of shadows cast on the roadway in a dizzying driving dance, as I avoid their embrace. Occasionally I will lift my eyes to the rear-view mirror to see if that vine clinging to the trunk of an ageless golden maple tree really was a Mother with many appendages not wanting to let go.

Tennessee’s birds dodge and get caught in autumn’s breezy current, and I try using discipline to avoid my favorite pastime “watching!”  Tit-mice, chickadee, the abundant cardinals, I can, for the most part ignore, but when a flash of blue with a pink-yellow breast crosses my vision; I throw caution to the wind and watch, as long as I dare. Ah, the bird of my childhood my “Blue Bird of Happiness.” Many of my young dreams and waking fantasies were induced by an imagined “sweetest melody” never actually heard.  I give thanks for parents who gave me the desire to adventure after creative thoughts to see where they could lead; most importantly they taught me to trust Jesus at an early age, the greatest adventure.

Oops! I’m back to full awareness now; eyes still glued to the curves, and dips.  The challenge of the back-lanes stirs a strange excitement. I revel in the challenge, and detect a slight taste of victory when I make the last turn. My car shifts down as we pull the steep hill; I suddenly slow down and swiftly make a sharp right sweep and careen down an equally sheer driveway. I apply the handbrake, emerge among falling leaves and scampering chipmunks. 

My eyes are now free to take in the beauty around me as I slowly trek up the curving drive. I step upon great slabs of stone laid out to form a pathway that guides me to the door, all the while I’m giving thanks to the Almighty God, for oh so many spiritual and earthly things; the blessings of his beautiful  self, his nature lavished upon the earth, all of my family, and my safety are enmeshed in glorifying praises in this precious moment!

Wherever you are; sing with me…out loud:

 Praise God from whom all blessings flow.  Praise him all creatures here below. Praise him above you heavenly host-praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!!!

 1 Chronicles 29:10-13 (The Message)

David blessed God in full view of the entire congregation: Blessed are you, God of Israel, our father from of old and forever. To you, O God, belong the greatness and the might, the glory, the victory, the majesty, the splendor; Yes! Everything in heaven, everything on earth; the kingdom all yours! You’ve raised yourself high over all. Riches and glory come from you, you’re ruler over all; You hold strength and power in the palm of your hand to build up and strengthen all. And here we are, O God, our God, giving thanks to you, praising your splendid Name.

THE DISTANCE BETWEEN

The drawer on the right-hand side on my computer desk holds various and sundry of things, as I am sure

yours does.  My prized possessions in there are pencils and a fist full of wooden or plastic rulers.  I think I developed this obsession in the third grade, and I seem to be stuck there.

The pencils: I’ve always doodled, sketched, and killed time with a sharp lead point.  The rulers: I can’t explain that fascination.  I think it has to do with the four straight edges and the perfection of it; I desperately need some perfection in my life, and evidently, it must come from an outer source!

Yesterday, I dropped rather heavily into my desk chair.  I just needed time to think and let my brain stop whizzing in circles for a bit.  The computer screen was dark… good!   I did not want to be distracted by anything, and for a while, I wasn’t.  But there, gracing my desk in all of its “finger stained, natural wooden” glory was twelve inches of pure “thought~capturing” diversion.

A ruler, reflecting older times in my home-town, had made its way to the desktop, and compelled my fingers to trace its smooth “silken with use” length and read the inscription printed indelibly so long ago.  The name of the company, the address, and then, “Live Plants in Season” ~ it mentioned roses, bedding plants, etc.  I was hooked; I flipped it over, expecting to see, perhaps, a blank side, but no… “Plant Guide” ~ ok then!

I read, the wheels turned, and God led.

Sub-title:
(On a ruler?  Yep, there is.)
“Distance Between Plants”

4″-6″ Lettuce, Beets, Carrots, Onions, Beans.
On down the ruler I kept reading, and at the bottom was 36″-48″ Muskmelon, Watermelon.  If it was spring-time I could use this ruler to plant the correct distance from each tomato to the other!

Um, how about studying other meanings or measurements of the word “distance?”  First, please understand these are my conclusions.

About the distance between neighbors, my mother always quoted her father’s saying, “Fences make good neighbors.”  I agree with that.  To my way of thinking, a good neighbor keeps neat borders in the front yard where they can publicly visit.  Fenced in back yards are private domains, and “only” when invited to step through the gate and visit in the back yard, do you know you are getting more personal and involved in a sincere friendship.

The distance between friends can be a good or bad thing.  Take care not to cross lines.  In my youth, I doubt I followed my own advice.  Friendships are to be treasured, and can turn fragile when there is too much contact, or interference, or misguided guidance is offered without praying for wisdom before speaking.  I don’t want to distance myself from a friend in a cold way, but in a cautious way, to preserve the connection we make by choice, as we are drawn to care and share with each other.

Then there is this: distance between family members.  Often it is not measured in inches but in miles, whether the distance is due to dwelling areas, or distance due to emotions.  I feel so sorry for families who have scant love for each other, and have no desire to be together.  I consider the yearning to enjoy each other’s company the gold star in relationships.  Certainly, with closeness comes our feelings, which can be hurt, occasionally boundaries are ignored as we flounder in the act of developing into the family God would have us be.   Forgiveness is the greatest blessing He sheds on a family and all other relationships.  “Love for family” is naturally instilled in us by the Lord, but forgiveness is an “ask and you will receive” deal.  He has offered a blessing only He can supply, forgiveness will adjust distance between loved ones according to His preference.

Finally, distances concerning God and His children (Christians) can be described as “He is close as our breath,” when our relationship is loving, obedient, and learning.  They can reflect an edgeless dark chasm when we have erred, strayed, or just ignored the God of the universe.  How close we think we are to the Father is based upon our perceptions rather than scripture.  How “distant” we get from the truth when we choose not to read and immerse ourselves in His word, and begin to trust our own understanding.  “With all your heart you must trust the Lord and not your own judgment.” Proverbs 3:5 CEV

In repentance and worship, we must always remember, Jesus made promises to us: “I’ll never let you down, never walk off and leave you.” Hebrews 13:5 The Message

Does He hear me?  Is He always truly near?  “I will answer their prayers before they finish praying.” Isaiah 65:24 CEV.  That means yes, He is near, always.

It is a matter of trust; do we trust Holy Scripture?  God’s word?  “Do not panic.  I’m with you.  There is no need to fear for I am your God.  I’ll give you strength.  I’ll help you.  I’ll hold you steady; keep a firm grip on you.”  Isaiah 41: 10 The Message.  This sounds as if He is indeed very close to you, and to me.

This nearness to God we can experience is due to one thing, one person, and is expressed in Ephesians 2:13, first in “The Message” Version, and the repeated in the New Century Version.  “Now because of Christ ~ dying that death, shedding that blood ~ you who were once out of it altogether are in on everything.”  And this… “But now in Christ Jesus, you who were far away from God are brought near through the blood of Christ’s death.”  I like how it is stated in both versions; once we were afar, now we are near.

Therefore, those scriptures seal it; there is no distance between Father, Son,  Holy Spirit, and His children.

The best bibical use of the word “distance” in modern vernacular when speaking of our neighbor, our friend, our families, ourselves is: He went the distance for us and now is eternally near.

Again, thinking of “distance” in relation to my neighbor, friend, family and myself… I am led to John 17:21-22:  Living Bible: “My prayer for all of them is that they will be one of heart and mind, just as you and I are, Father ~ that just as you are in me and I in you, so they will be in us, and the world will believe you sent me.  I have given them the glory you have given me ~ the glorious unity of being one, as we are~”

My salvation is His glory; His prayer is my glory.  He desires closeness to us.
He desires us to experience a nearness to each other, just like onions and carrots! (See ruler.)

Then in verse 23: New Century Version.  “I in them and you in me, all being perfected into one ~ so that the world will know that you sent me and will understand that you love them as much as you love me.”  This is blessed assurance.

I’m happy my ruler caught my attention and carried me on a spiritual path for a while.  I must now inch my way toward the kitchen and see about supper.

To understand the depth of love the Father has for us, and how vast, no ruler can measure, read Luke 22, and enjoy, worship, and praise; draw near!

THE DEER'S CRY

I am standing in the dappled shade of shallow woods.  Through the low-hanging branches, I see liquid diamonds sparkle as ripplets bounce off the partially submerged sand rock in the creek.  The stream slowly winds its way, in no hurry, to join a rushing great river.  I am still, barely breathing; I ignore the tickle by the side of my nose.  My elbow is nudging a scaly sycamore; it holds me steady as I lean toward the scene before me.

A young doe is inching her way down the steep bank this very early morning.  She sniffs the air, checking for signs; she slowly turns her head toward me.  We are each captured by the other’s stare, I blink; she is released and turns away; her safety is assured; the water calls and she continues on her downward way.  I ponder as sleep evaporates; the dream loses its grasp, and I awaken.

This morning, in the aftermath of the vision (?) an old Celtic praise song is compelling me to worship; along the way it leads me to scripture:

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God.  My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.” Psalms 42:1-2a (NIV)

God uses the gentle deer and all nature to bring glory to Himself.

The background story goes: Saint Patrick composed this powerful prayer in the year 433.  He was aware that there was an ambush to try to kill him and his group en route to the King’s court.  It was during the march that they chanted the sacred Lorica or The Deer’s Cry ~ later known as St. Patrick’s Breastplate. (Ephesians 6: 10-18)  As the druids lay in hiding, ready to kill, they saw not Patrick and his men, but a gentle doe followed by twenty fawns; St. Patrick and his men were saved.

~So, I seek the words and melody that dwell in the chant (transformed to music) of an ancient Irish saint.  With modern technology, I find it; I care not that it is delivered on the edge of the unknown.  I just give myself to it and allow worship to wash through my ears to the heart of me.  In my spirit, I stand with one foot in heaven and in the flesh one foot is under my computer desk.  I praise along with the moving melody, and desire God’s protection and presence.  “Hear my cry too, oh Lord, just as you hear… ”

“The Deer’s Cry”

I arise today through the strength of heaven
Light of sun, radiance of moon
Splendor of fire, speed of lightning
Swiftness of wind, depth of the sea
Stability of earth, firmness of rock

~ These words astound me, He is in all nature; He protects, uses, surrounds and blesses me with all He is.

I arise today,
through God’s strength to pilot me:
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s host to secure me:
against snares of devils,
against temptations of vices,
against inclinations of nature,
against everyone who shall wish me ill,
afar and a near,
alone and in a crowd.

~The rendition is hauntingly beautiful; it causes to me be aware: all Godly attributes are blessings, and all nature has God in its heart.  God can speak through all He has made or breathed into existence, and man and nature respond.

Psalms 19:37-40 “Blessed is He who comes, the king in God’s name!  All’s well in heaven!  Glory in the high places!” they shouted.
Some Pharisees from the crowd told him, “Teacher, get your disciples under control!”
But he said, “If they kept quiet, the stones would do it for them, shouting praise.”
(The Message)

~And there is more…

Psalms 19:1-4 (CEV) “The heavens keep telling the wonders of God and the skies declare what he has done.  Each day informs the following day; each night announces to the next.  They don’t speak a word, and there is never the sound of a voice.  Yet their message reaches all the earth, and it travels around the world.”

~The song’s refrain picks up in intensity.  It moves and rolls like a rip~tide throwing the ocean on to the shoreline and dragging everything (our sin) back to bury in the deeps.  This reflects the never-ending strength of our heavenly Father, who loves and protects His own.

The plea, the prayer, and the song goes on…

Christ to protect me today,
Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ in breadth,
Christ in length,
Christ in height,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

~We, the deer and I, are well covered to live this day in God’s gracious care.

Ah, Amen.

LITTLE COLORED STONES

The colored bits of glass, stones and metal are strewn across the work table before me. I stir them with a searching finger. This is not an aimless pursuit, but one of waiting for the colors, texture and my imaginings to all come together and to loosely form a design for a new piece of jewelry.

This will be costume jewelry because the findings and pieces of metal needed will be of the plated or filled variety, unless I choose copper. Today, I think I'll use gemstones, crystal, ceramic and maybe a resin mix.

The solid rainbow lying out before me has made a decision. The aqua, blues, and greens seem to arrange themselves asking to be the chosen ones, so they will. The bracelet, will be called "blues jam" because that's the way I've been feeling lately (a touch of reality) and for how I will attach them, all jumbled up on the silver chain (the way I feel like working.) Also the name reminds me of food, and I get hungry when I design. For some reason, this activity makes me think about all kinds of food…I don't know why; I just go with it. I twist, turn, bend and adjust my fingers while the pages of my mind are flipping through recipe books!

As I began the pleasing task of adding the beads and other adornments I make a determined effort to distract my mind from food and spend the time thinking of the scriptures; can I think of scripture that gives spiritual legitimacy to my hobby and crafting of something so nonessential as costume jewelry?

Well can I? Ummm…let me search the scripture.

"Don't worry," answered the priest. "The Lord is pleased with what you are doing."
Judges 18:6 CEV

Grabbing a scripture just by flipping through a Bible's pages may not always be the best way to find an answer, especially without first reading the background, even though at first sight it seems to be.

True, this scripture is speaking of people who were subsidiaries to the tribe of Dan as they sought a land to call their own. Also true is the fact the priest, even though he was a Levite he was into idols, and was rather wishy-washy with both God and man. From commentaries, I understand he used "methods of divination" to get the desired answer for the crowd. This was not of God's doing; I won't use it as my reference for legitimacy.

I will search further, and as I do I must ask myself; whose approval do I truly desire, am I more concerned about what my peers think, or what God, my heavenly Father, thinks??

"Our purpose is to please God, not people. He alone examines the motives of our hearts."
1 Thessalonians 2:4, NLT

And then I remember reading in Matthew recently: "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." Matthew 6:33 NIV

So, perhaps I won't find my answer in a word-for-word instruction as in, "Rhea do this!" but, in reading scripture, praying, and understanding the intent of God's will in my life. It is a matter of priorities as well as choices. As I put God first; in position, in the matter of time, in love, and worship; in return, he blesses me with appreciation for the colors of his world; he gives me the ability to feel, touch and form objects; I experience satisfaction, job well-done.

I hope I speak for all Christian scrap bookers, photographers, seamstress, and hobby masters of all ilk; God has placed deep gratitude in us for the things with which he has decorated this world. It is his pleasure to bring us happiness by planting in our lives the talents to see a little differently and use what he has so lavishly spread before us to complete our lives and also bring us pleasure. Things others may see as mundane we see as treasure, and give thanks.

I think this is called the "abundant life!"

"I came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance (to the full till it overflows.)" John 10:10b

I give him first place bringing him glory. He allows me expanded time, the overflow to experience the talents he placed within me; my time is not wasted it is blessed.

"Thank you Lord for allowing me to see the colors of the world in a special way, and to enjoy the beauty and texture of the things in your nature. Thank you for prompting the hearts of man with the desire to mimic your art, and for the many creative urges you blessed us with. I don't understand why I should deserve even a drop of the grace you offer me physically or spiritually, and I only know they meld together so effortlessly because you are the ultimate life designer. Thank you for the drawing power of your Holy Scripture and the worlds and Godly beauty it has opened to me. You have so graciously planted in my heart the knowledge of your great salvation found in Jesus Christ; it is paramount in my life, all else flows from it, and because of it. Thank you for creating me as me, and whatever I do I offer to you."

I find that I can relax now and be at peace about my pursuits; I pick up my pliers, flex the muscles in my hand by stirring the colored bits of glass, stone, and metal with a searching finger. I retreat to the zone!"

~I encourage you to "seek and find" the special blessing God has put in your Life, offer it back to him then enjoy it to the fullest, be blessed!

Outline (the intro)

I find, as I continue living this life, there are many facets of thought God placed inside me that I have yet to explore. My curiosity and inquisitiveness keep on growing.

As I began to live a slower pace, I realize my childhood imagination has surfaced again. It takes me to places I cannot physically go; it allows me to question as well as perceive in a rather interesting manner. I don’t pursue it, it pursues me.

I thank my heavenly Father for giving me the personality to never (except the summer after the 7^th, grade) be bored in my life. A little more boredom may have been good for me at the time.

I always longed for security; I don’t know why this was so important at such a young age other than God putting it in the heart of humans to desire it.

 When I came of age, I accepted his gift of salvation and gave my little girl’s heart to Jesus; security was mine.

I know He made me; I know He loves me, and watches over me. Therefore I am in love with the scripture below; what a life foundation.

Psalms 139: 13-16: Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother’s womb. I thank you, high God, you’re breathtaking! Body and soul I am marvelously made. I worship in adoration, what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body. You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you, the days of my life all prepared before I’d even lived one day.    (MSG) The Message

What a sense of security this still gives me.

So having said all this; I know, that you know I am founded in faith and scripture, and I feel free to offer a bit of poetry that may have been preconceived so long ago (while drawing; I was always drawing) in my 7^th. grade mind on a long hot summer afternoon, that dragged on forever…

Outline (the poem)

If I was just an outline of a person drawn with indelible ink; I ponder; how would he, my God in his artistry, fill in the empty spaces?

Would he use his mighty hand to shape and mold my inner self? And would the breath of his Spirit blend me in ways to color my soul?

Will he tint my heart with iridescent love and let it flow through all my empty, but longing places?

“Fill me Lord!” I plea, for I am flat in form and without dimension; lying on a canvas, void of color or life I wait.

His pallet is covered by faith; I invite him to splash me so freely with grace.  I await the touch of animation as he paints salvation in me.

I sense a stirring, a mixing of flesh and soul, a shading of emotion and logic, embedded while innate.

A background is stretched taut under my frame; there is no past to erase, I will live now and then, so divine.

I am not a sketch with shattered lines and uneven planes; I have been created by the Master’s loving hand.

By eternal fingers, quickened am I, made new, a masterpiece, a special design, brushed with his reflective glory…I shine.

I am all filled in; all filled up; I am complete. I live! But yet…

Galatians 1:20

The life you see me living is not mine, but it is lived by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.

(MSG) The Message

A VERY SHARP POINT!

Life is constantly changing; it doesn’t ever let me catch my breath. I prefer consistency, slow shifts, and want everyone’s movements to revolve around my life and my expectations. I admit it I am selfish in my own particular way, and I want all of my friend’s decisions to depend on my acceptance and comfort. They seem to accept this, but go ahead and do what they had planned anyway!

 Major changes happened in the last couple of years; two of my best friends have moved away from me. Not because they have disassociated themselves from me, but they actually moved to other areas of God’s beautiful world! They are encountering new and exciting adventures, and I am left with their empty spaces.

 I was very much involved in the most recent move; I helped with packing and a two day marathon “Big” moving sale. She lived on a farm and had a big house plus many out-buildings which were all full. We re-arranged mega, multiple home, yard, barn, workshop, and shed items, to ensure a great sale. It did!

 One of the perks of this loving labor of mine was to choose anything (I mean “anything”) she wasn’t taking to her new (far away) home, and let it become a part of my “left behind “life. I selected a few items, a painted pitcher, unusual stone jug, a crock, a book or two, and various other items. On the last day of preparation for the move I stumbled into, literally, a closet and there in all of its well-used glory was the prize! I couldn’t believe my eyes, a heavy green metal object screwed to the interior wall, my heart thumped wildly for joy. I had found treasure, along with childhood memories.

I always wanted one, even though I have had many that were hand held, a free-standing one sits on my desk as I write, but it has to be used carefully due to its propensity to tip over when used. There it was; a heavy duty, with a hand crank, a virtual grinding machine; one that makes that soothing “gurrring” sound as it chews the shank and sharpens the tips of yellow or black wood pencils. There is nothing in this world like a very sharp point!

Why was I having spasms’, and chills brought on by such a simple thing; a pencil sharpener? School! That is why, school. Sharpening my pencils was my release, my recreation, my way out of a boring assignment! I would sharpen all of my pencils several times a day, or as often as I could get away with it. I would sharpen anyone’s pencils, even the teachers.

I would “left side slide” out of my right arm desk top chair; take a slow measured steps (I am sure I did this ‘cause I am a "counter"…steps, lines on the wall, I count anything and everything ) toward the object of my “time-killer!

You need to understand; I was a free spirited child, my body was in the class, but the real “me” was riding my Dad’s orange bicycle, with my skirt hiked up and my socks dangerously close to getting caught in the chain. In my dreams my hair is flowing behind me, but it wasn’t, it was fairly short, thick, naturally curly and coarse, it never moved independently of my head; it was like a hat.

There I would stand, counting the turns, hoping the point would break and I could start all over again! I sometimes erased the black board (yes, black) but, too many other students were in line for that job, so mostly I sharpened! This caused me to develop a love for pencils that has lasted until today; I always choose one over a pen, unless ink is required.

I learned to love the eraser on the tip of my pencils, and due to so much time spent in the business of “sharpening”, I had to use them often, ah that’s the rub; oh! Sorry.

So there I was, in the closet, mourning the nearing departure of my friend, while desiring a screwdriver so I could remove the object of my obsession. I did the job and carefully carried it like a trophy to the backseat of my car and tucked it in a cup holder for a safe ride home.

“Why in the world?” you ask, didn’t I just buy one years ago? Well, I’m cheap (having owned the various fore mentioned ones), and forgetful and I must shop with reminders and it just never made the list, and besides, sometimes yearning is more satisfying than fulfillment; you know?

It is now ensconced in my pantry, directly over the trash can, “Oh! How could I have forgotten… emptying the pencil sharpener was another time-consuming project, almost as satisfying as turning the handle and it brought about a secondary type of avoidance of studying, a break to go to the restroom to wash my fingers.

Oh, I knew all of the tricks involving a pencil, and a “break” (oops, sorry again!) I must be feeling pun-ish today, but not the punish-ment I experienced because of my many trips to the front of the room, as I risk my life standing so near the teacher’s desk, eating up all of my pencils just so I could enjoy fleeting moments away from my prison, I mean desk!

Life happened, I moved on… and speaking of moving, my friend is gone, and I am re-adjusting myself again, and when the pity-party gets boring I just saunter, pencil in hand, to my pantry. Somehow a strange peaceful sense of escape comes over me, as I grab the handle. Suddenly I have the desire to ride a bicycle; I might ride it to visit my friend.

I could... you know!

The “V” Word

I was entranced by my morning devotions as I came to a deeper understanding of a spiritual truth. The scripture, found in Mark 14, tells about a time in Bethany when Jesus was enjoying a meal with friends. Not just ordinary friends−Jesus had some very interesting friends−Simon his host was an ex-leper.

 At some time during this gathering a woman came in and approached Jesus with a gift. By reading a parallel subject in John 12:1-3 it seems that Simon may have been (if my understanding is correct) the father of Martha, Mary and Lazarus, who were dear and close personal friends of Jesus, again not such ordinary people if we study the trauma experienced during their lives.

This woman who came in may have been Mary, the sister who loved while the other sister labored. You know the story told here, of her priceless gift, and her love for the Master. However the crux of the matter for me is not her gift, but His words, and they stunned me.

 After scolding the scoffers, Jesus gave her a blessing, “She has done a beautiful thing for me." CEV "A good work for me.” NKJV this and the implication is what captured my attention. It was a concept brought to me by Oswald Chambers in his book “My Upmost for His Highest.” It was not entirely new to me in my subconscious perhaps, but in the awakened part of my mind I had, as far as memory goes, never dwelt on this particular aspect of God’s love.

 My day caught up with me; I was envisioning the subject as I was led along in my busy life.

 The rain fell in a heavy fashion, sluggishly. The splashes had edges. It was almost but not quite snow or ice, but close. I was hesitant to leave my warm home; my mind was still in the Bible, but the errands wouldn’t wait; I had to go. I tried to keep my mind on my “must dos, but pondering thoughts trailed after me.

Can I describe it using just words?

 “God is love.” I, of course know that verse by heart. This is another of my all-time favorite verses “Real love isn’t our love for God, but his love for us.” It’s found in 1st. John 4:9-10, as well as “For God so loved the world…” John 3:16 I know and believe the basis for total truth is God’s word; I trust in these scriptures, I know he loves me. But, I most often just accept the surface level of love without delving into the layers and stratum of all it means from God’s perspective, if I even could.

 So, I gleaned on an early spring morning (that still feels like deep winter) this: God values me. Dare I even think those words?

 God Almighty, my heavenly Father values me. Whoa… this goes beyond love; this shoots through the universe and aims for heaven itself; it’s a different level, a knee bending, mind blowing thought to be treasured, explored, and to exult in.

My perception about the meaning of love is, I suppose rather simple; it does have several levels of meaning…I understand and experience family and friendship love; the “I would die for you!” love, and the deep feelings of loss when separated; the joy when surrounded by the same ones. I know the need to feel, touch and kiss. Hugs are physical connections to the heart between people who love each other.

 I actually love, love. I want to be surrounded by it, always! This tells how I view love as it goes out from me, and maybe I speak for you, but how is my concept of God's (who “first” loved me) love even close to the reality of something so all-consuming and beyond human understanding and our emotions?

 He values …me?

 I have learned today when I do those things for God, being compelled only because I love him, as did Mary with the gift of the alabaster box; by offering him my “ordinary simple human” things give evidence of my total surrender. This is not to prove who I am, but because of who he is, and my relationship to him. I am his child; he values my love gift… me.

 To value: have worth, merit, or importance. While you are on bended knees, try to think of this definition belonging to you in the heart of your heavenly Father.

 I am aware of all (or most) of my faults and peculiar traits that may confuse or even disturb others at times even though they are familiar with my personality. So, I think those who love me have an “in spite of” love for me, and in my heart of hearts, I have always thought that was the way God loved me, “He made me this way, so he has to love me!” Yeah! That kind of love; it is an “in spite of” type.

Yet, he values …me? What comfort, what peace, what mystery occurs when I freely surrender “my all” to him!

The rain has lessened, but the low clouds roll on in a threatening manner; this gray morning in Kentucky, it is exciting to say the least! As I dove, my thoughts of being valued by the Lord in return for sweet gifts of devotion, gathered steam and my amazement continued to grow.

 Due to my lack of ability to make a quick decision; I became minimally wet while I finished taking care of my business. Should I grab the umbrella from under the passenger seat (meaning I would have to bend, stretch and twist to reach it with bottom up) or pull on my hood which was caught inside my jacket collar? All the while I was standing between the car and the door, and the rain was falling and splashing in the puddle at my feet making ridiculing sneering sounds!

 Finally! Warm and dry, back in my house in my reading chair with a good book; I should say “The” Good Book. Once again I am diving again into the love God has for me, it is written all over in indelible ink, and it is here to stay. I just can’t get enough. I want to live my life in open gratitude. I want to make large and overwhelming, as well as those “small gifts of surrender” to my lovely Lord. I desire to be of value to the God who is “love” himself!

 I praise using ancient words spoken by one he loved to the ultimate, David “Your love means more than life to me, and I praise you. As long as I live I will pray to you. I will sing joyful praises and be filled with excitement like a guest at a banquet.” Psalms 63:3.

 Loved, valued, warm and satisfied; filled in every way, not only do I experience the mountain top, but I think I am running, jumping and spinning through the valley!

 Unless noted all scripture is from CEV.

The Winter of MY (a cautionary true life tale)

Discontent, certainly that would name it, perhaps in a shallow way. A restless winter, for sure! Couch lust season? No, months of couch disgust! Never thought I would say it. My place of solace, comfort, stress reliever, so many good things it is. But the last two months it has proven to be a rust-red, dark green, western motif prison.

Following our Dr.’s advice of course, we took the flu shot in the fall for precaution as most seniors do now-a-days. All was well until the first week in January 2013 (I’ve mentioned this before, but to think I would be living in this year seemed like science fiction to me as a child). That is when my husband came down with the flu symptoms and all that indicates. I nursed him back to good health in about four or five days, ladies you understand what all this implies; men do sickness to perfection! It was a slight case of the flu but an epic traumatic time for him.

As he healed that week-end, I began to have some strange goings on myself. Constant running nose, cough, sore throat, struggled, but I bravely carried on until three days later the fever began; that is when my sofa, my close friend became even closer. This wasn’t a stay in bed occasion, because of the flu shot I’m sure, but a couch hugging one. It drug on; no one came in our house. It was just me my hubby, and Fox news.

Just as I was beginning to feel resentful I had a couple of good days. Two days without fever so I went out; carried on my business, and oh, surprise the whole thing came back, and it was “couch time” again. The details, ugh…! This went on for another week, fever, no fever, pure yuck, But I must say no racking body aches, due again to the fore mentioned shot (please, do take it)!

At the end of about two and a half weeks I felt well again, so off to the food pantry I went to do my duty, while there I began to have strange inklings that something was amiss! By the time I got home the second phase had started, and the virus that has followed this flu in so many cases had found me.

Down on the couch again, this took another week to run its course amid pity parties, crying jags, a little temper, and lots of running; my lower half rocked and later my top half rolled! On it went! I had every same symptom my husband had, his lasting a day or two at a time, whereas mine went on for eons! I saw the Dr. twice, along with phone calls and several prescriptions. During it all; my couch was faithful, ‘though it insidiously seemed  to draw me there and hold me as its grip tightened!

Three weeks dragged to an end, and a few days into the fourth week all of my maladies turned me loose. I was free. Thank you Lord for answered prayer, I really never doubted you.

By now, it is February, a new month, a new outlook!

The second night after my recovery my husband went to get something in the dark house and forgot there were three steps (we have two steps in another place) so he missed the bottom, and down, he went hitting the wall, and door way knocking a china plate to its death! He was ok, just surprised his head wasn’t bleeding (trying to distract me from the plate) back to bed we went; all was well.

As I have mentioned several times before, “I know we have become one!” God meant it to be that way, so we have, almost literally. Three nights later, in the dark, I went down the same three steps thinking they were only two, and you guessed it! The next morning I was to have a biopsy on a spot previously found on my left leg, so I, with hubby’s help, hobbled to the Dr.’s office for that visit, and then hobbled into the clinic next door for an x-ray on the right foot; it was twisted, back to the couch for two more days. Arrrg…

The foot finally healed so I could safely walk on it without the walker, but to this day, it still hurts. Sometime I am gimpy and grumpy, but I am trying. 

Had a few good days, family visited for two of them and life was getting normal. Celebrated my 76th birthday, felt no older than my mind says I am, but that shall remain a secret!

Then, came Monday of this week and back for outpatient surgery I go, yes it was a squamous-cell cancer, not to fret they seldom spread, and the Dr. said it looked clean underneath, more testing to make sure. I don’t get concerned over such things; I just worry “with” them from the reclining position on my couch, of course. Now this leg is up again for two or so more days!

And here I am propped up in my bed, haven’t made it to the couch yet, spilling my guts to a captive audience, or maybe not! The original dressing gets to come off after a while, and my husband will clean and re-bandage it for me; I will milk it for all it’s worth (just being truthful) and be waited on hands and foot until I get tired of it, and then back to my sofa I will go. Our relationship shall continue, “prison, a prisoner” for a day or two more, then, one way or another, I’m breaking out!

In all of this, I thank God for my patient forbearing husband, the helper that he is, and that he still loves me through it all, and thanks to our daughter our encourager and cheerleader who returned after the contagion settled. I thank God for the ending of THIS winter, which will soon be drawing near, although there is an ice storm due tonight. I should not forget Kroger in my thanksgiving; the roasted chicken, and all of their other pre-made goodies!

Looking forward to the day my sofa will once again be my friend, and I will be free to sit or stand elsewhere if I choose!

So, what would you call my winter? Oh well…I shall be of good cheer!

Spring is coming! God is good!

Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow?

In recent years, I have been aware of the illness that steals away many of the loved ones of my friends and family in an insidious way. Slipping into their midst at first unnoticed, it creates a new heart-rending reality for all those it touches.  I have wondered how they, the affected one, come to the realization of this disease and how strong can they fight against it in the early stages. How do they try to push away this creeping horror?

This may be one of those places angels “fear to tread” I ask; could the heart-rending knowledge be something...

~~~~~

I furtively flipped the light switch casting the side porch into sudden darkness. Quietly, I turned the door handle and slipped noiselessly over the threshold and was instantly enveloped by the thick, dark and fragrant midnight. 

“Tonight is the night for memories.” I told myself as I tossed an ancient quilt on the thick growth of vinca vines, and in the process crushed many blue headed blossoms. The fire flies, new to the early summer, were in competition with the distant stars; blinking and winking at me, luring me to turn my dream time over to them.

It was the softness of the night and my bed of earth that lulled me and drew to the place where my reveries became remembrances of flesh once touched, and tears and kisses felt fresh on my face. So, I gave over to the madness of a dark moon, and gentle night breezes, as they stirred the leaves of the giant maple tree that stands as a guardian over my yard and me. Settled and comfortable now, it was time to visit old places once new.

I closed my eyes and went away for a while, to distant places, and other eras, times filled with passion, love, and grace, when I was young, where I was young. The golden haired “one for me” was there too. The one whose mouth curved rather than pointed at the corners; whose eyes, so blue, read me, and knew me, and touched me tenderly with an unspoken call, and I answered.

In the poignancy of the moment, in the stillness of the night, the hunger and thirst for days gone by became a palatable thing. The dew arrived and did its magical thing; quenching the thirst of my yard it also renewed and caressed my spirits and kissed my face and drew me back to this night, this time, and thoughts of tomorrow.  I am here. I passed the test once more.

A faint light, glowing on my porch, and I heard a soft voice speak my name; the voice that has warmed me through the years, “It is time, please come back now.” I struggled to my feet, folded my Grandmother’s quilt and slowly walked through the blackness toward my reality. He well knew of my trips to yesterday, and he thinks I’ll always come back, and I will; I deeply desire to; for as long as I can.

His hand held my arm and guided me through the darkened house; I remembered the way, but it was so nice having a guide. I knelt at my bedside and said my prayers. Sleep waited to weave its calming way to my body and thoughts, as my life-long custom takes over, and my lips began their nightly whisper “God, my shepherd;  I don’t need a thing.  You have bedded me down in lush meadows; you find me quiet pools to drink from. True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction. Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I’m not afraid when you walk at my side. Your trusty shepherd’s crook makes me feel secure. You serve me a six-course dinner right in front of my enemies. You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing. Your beauty and love chase after me every day of my life. I’m back home in the house of God for the rest of my life.”

With arms entwined we go to bed. It has always, always been this way. I kissed his beautiful mouth, and began slipping away again, not to yesterday, or tomorrow,but to a place of contented sleep where rest reigns and I am secure in the knowledge as love waits, it also will go on forever.

~~~~~~

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Scripture quoted Psalm 23 (The Message)