Category Archives: MONDAY MUSINGS

Footprints In The Sand

24 Monday Oct 2022

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Fifth in the Ocean View series….There is a very pleasant sound when the earth is in motion; when the waves wash ashore from the sea.

My friend Linda’s daughter and grandson

After lunch today I was glued to the patio, soaking up the sun’s warmth and the cooling breeze; transported back to – you guessed it – the beach. It has become my Sunday afternoon ritual to remember, reflect upon, and relive those special moments. Finding reminders of God, and certain lessons I gathered in the tidbits of nature only God could make, I began this series of “Ocean View” to share thoughts and experiences I’m sure we have in common, about visits to an ocean. I’m fairly certain no one who has walked in the sand, has missed the fascination of watching a perfect impression be washed one wave at a time, out to sea. It’s almost a game to guess how many waves will completely erase our footprints. Among the many parallels we can draw from those vanishing footprints, is foremost to me, the fact we are “here today and gone tomorrow” as they say.

“He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8 NKJV) This is one of my favorites; yes I do have several, but I mean this is in the top five! As I “walk humbly” with God, what kind of footprints am I making? Whose am I following?

Some impressions make a strong impact, some only a mild influence. Nevertheless, they are real. Just as a real person made real prints in the sand, our lives make real impact on those about us, impressing for good, or not. As I watched the first ripple blur the edges of my footprint, then the second wave melt the impression down to an outline, the third wash totally took the print out to sea; a million grains at once. Will any one of those grains enter the clam who would make a pearl of my impression? I’ll never know. While we don’t want to get too caught up in our own presence, or make too much of it, there is something to think about here. Actually, we may not realize fully enough the impact we make. After all, the prints were real and while we may not see them linger, their image lives in our memory; we were there, making footprints in the sand. Who might be following? To whom do our footprints lead?

Are my footprints just aimlessly meandering this way and that? Is it like trying to follow the gull’s scrambled tracks? If on the other hand, they are sure, and true, they will lead to the good shepherd Who knows every sheep by name. If my prints help someone to recognize the good shepherd’s voice, they will hear and follow Him. “When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger’s voice.” (John 10:4-5 NIV)

I have only the few moments of my imprint before it is washed out to sea. Will there be any impression or influence worth the effort God put into making me? (Because He has had to do a lot of work on this gal!) As we compete with flashy high-tech toys in gaining the little ones’ attention, I catch myself wondering, will the glint in my eye and the grin on my face ever be enough for them to remember something good about me? Wow, how vain that sounds, but isn’t it true? I feel I’m not the only one who wants to be remembered by her loved ones as one who loves them; as having a positive impact in their lives.

In the first couple years of public school, I encountered two very different women. One, our sitter we called Miss Frocie, and then there was my teacher. All I remember about the teacher is fear, and a broken self image. Miss Frocie however, went about her humble daily life with a song. Literally. I am taken back to her little house every time I hear “Footprints of Jesus” (by Mary B. C. Slade) She sang it, hummed it, and taught it. She had a picture of the “Last Supper” over her kitchen table. Though she was not a doting gooey-sweet sitter, she took care of us and made a terrific lemon icebox dessert I wish to this day I could duplicate! The impact of one became a part of me that if I’m honest, I never got over. The other one influenced me to love Jesus, Terri Lee dolls and lemon desserts. Footprints of Jesus…”🎼And we see where Thy footprints falling, lead us to Thee.” 🎵 He, Jesus, is the way, the truth and the life. You’ll find no better prints to follow.

So, it is true. One day they will say of me, “here today and gone tomorrow”. Will there be any marks left to point the way for those to come after me; any impact to assure friends and family of their importance to me; and will a single grain of my walk be a pearl I can return to the Father for the beyond-amazing life He has designed.

In Revelation 14:13, John was given this knowledge to impart to us: “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on…that they may rest from their labors, and their works follow them.”

Now go walk in the sand, and marvel at the works of God’s hand. Trisha

Sea Creatures – Show Time!

17 Monday Oct 2022

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Number Four in the “Ocean View” series.

I’m having fun reliving our mini trip to the ocean, reading over notes I made while there. I hope you enjoy the view from my beach chair. And I hope my husband is still speaking to me after this one😁.

We hit the road with no particular expectations; simply a prayer for safety. I sought only the sweet breath of the ocean; to be quiet, still, and to receive the gift of peace I had discovered in years past, peace I found in the solitude as I looked out over the expanse, forgetting the world at my elbows. I asked for nothing more, except to hope the trip would be good for my sidekick too. I was about to be reminded of God’s way of presenting gifts beyond our imagination, in the here and now. Before your eyebrows fuse in that position, I ask, would we pray for daily provisions if we did not believe good gifts are part of this life, as well as life in eternity? Let me unwrap the gift of just one day we received on the beach at Seaside.

“…And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters…Then God said, ‘Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.’…and the gathering together of the waters He called Seas. And God saw that it was good.” (Genesis 1: 2b, 6, 10b)

So, if I read that correctly, waters were there on the second day, before there was land on the third day. And God saw that it was good. By the fifth day the seas and heavens were so pleasing they were given life to inhabit them. (“Then God said, ‘Let the waters abound with an abundance of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the face of the firmament of the heavens.‘ ” Genesis 1:20) Inconceivable – to us, but who are we? A god who can make all creatures great and small to inhabit earth, water, and air, would have no problem at all preparing their habitation.

Did you realize (I didn’t until now) that it was the sea life and birds of the air who were first “blessed” by God! It says so in verse 22. That’s the first recorded time of God blessing His creation. And here we were, blessed, in front row seats to witness one little slice of that creation. It seemed they were showing up and showing out just for us, as if they knew our time to be there was short, Gary’s endurance was limited, and the flies would come biting tomorrow. Yes, Day one of our beach trip, Gary’s first ever, was nothing short of a gift. ON with the show…

Now I know most of you have experienced so much more, our trip pales to a ghost in comparison. We didn’t swim with the dolphins, nor go snorkeling with the undersea life, but I assure you we were extraordinarily entertained by this show rehearsed for thousands of years. From our first step into the crystal clear water with ghost crabs the size of a large hand, to the larger than life sunset, we enjoyed one new thing after another. We laughed at the tiny lightening-quick sand crabs popping in and out of the sand as the soft gray and white gulls did their best to grab them in their hide and seek game. We watched schools of small slender fish at the waters edge, like synchronized swimmers performing a routine. First this way, then reverse, that way, and back again, until they danced out of the spotlight.

As usual, there were a few jellyfish here and there, but I’d never seen one being carried in a sand pail, it’s gelatinous excess spilling over the sides of the child’s pail. One look at a youngster rubbing his leg told us the jellyfish had been a bad sport and now faced the consequences as it was carried away to be buried in the sand. Ugh.

While we didn’t swim with dolphins, they were certainly on parade! At first it was a barely recognizable image of forms leaping on the horizon. Soon another group, or the same, I have no idea, had come closer, leaping, arching, splashing to our pleasure! I squealed like a kid on Christmas morning with a coveted new toy. A third time, even nearer, the show stopping acrobats were between us and a young man on a paddle board who had gone farther out than these dolphins! Arms all along the beach were pointing out to sea and there was a congregational “whoa!” What a thrill for me to see, but even more so, that they came to play for a 70 year old who’d never even seen the Gulf before. HIs only other ocean view had been a chilly shore in Maine years ago. I had by now, begun to explain to him this day was not the usual but a gift – perfect weather, no annoyances and sea life abundant.

After a while of admiring the natural beauty, I had to remind my husband this was not the mall. People-watching would not be good for his health. With tongue in cheek, I say there were more creatures than jellyfish jiggling on the beach. After wearing a towel over his head for a few minutes, he decided to watch his feet turn red and play games with the gulls. Live and learn. After a short time of quiet I opened my eyes to find gulls gathering a bit too closely. I had cautioned him regarding these gluttonous feathered friends, but alas, I caught him with his hand in the lunch bag, pulling out pretzels to break and toss. (I know, I know. But I mean, when a man so diligently directs his vision per wife’s instruction, who’s going to scold?) One gull quickly became three or four, looking at him with expectant “don’t stop now” expressions. We laughed as each one grabbed a piece of pretzel, chop stick-style and ran toward the water just in case this land lubber wanted his treats back.

The final layer of gift wrap to reveal our pleasure of the day, came in the midst of a growing crowd off to our left. I had become quite comfortable drying in my sunny chair, so Gary eased off in the direction of the ado, ready to snap a picture of whatever the people were following. There was from my vantage point a shadowy figure slowly moving about 15 to 20 feet off shore, being followed by the crowd. I thought perhaps a large fish, or small dolphin, had floated to shore and I did not want to see a dead one. Just as I realized it was moving intentionally, it swam out of sight and the crowd dispersed. Before Gary returned, I asked our neighbors, the Markeys (from last week’s post), what had been the attraction, and to my dismay, they reported A LARGE SEA TURTLE! Fish fur! Of all the times to sit on my butt! I was happy though that Gary was privileged to see it and his camera caught just the edge of it from where he stood. My true concern was possibly this wonder of a creature had thought it to be time and place to come ashore and lay her eggs, then was frightened away. We were not graced by her presence again.

Millions of people over the years have been entertained and impressed by natural wonders we may just take for granted. But what a gift; and as any of us can truly say, “You did this all for me?! Awwww, thank you! ” I love the lyrics to “Who Shall Stand Before the King” (R. J. Stevens Music, LLC) It is taken from Psalm 24, which begins, “The earth is the Lord’s, and all its fullness, the world and those who dwell therein. For He has founded it upon the seas, and established it upon the waters.” Who indeed can stand before the King; I am not worthy. But I have stood before his creation, received the gift, at peace, amazed, and grateful. Trisha

The edge of our sea turtle, upper left corner.

The Markey Family

10 Monday Oct 2022

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Third in “Ocean View”

There is a very pleasant sound, when the earth is in motion, like waves come ashore from the sea. Like children’s laughter and gulls o’er the ocean; a mother’s sweet voice in your sleep.

“And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works” (Hebrews 10:24 NKJV)

I first noticed them descending the two dozen or so steps to the beach, two babes in arms and one at their heels, and carrying bags of beach toys and towels. I said in passing, “wow, you’ve got your hands full”. She laughed and rolled on. We do have our hands full, I thought, as we navigate the stairs and baggage of life.

Upon returning later to the sandy bliss, I realized their beach umbrella and chairs were set up next to ours. The little girls were as brown as biscuits against the white sand, and I later learned their ages were one, two and a half, and six years old. An absolutely beautiful family, the parents were so calm and tender with the children, encouraging their play and soothing their fears. Mom Markey (fictitious name, since I did not ask permission to use their real name) approached me in the water complimenting the bandana I wore, and said she used to have a bandana in every color and also received compliments. Her reply to those, she said, was “Thank you, it’s what I do when my hair needs to be washed.” I revealed it’s what I wear because my hair has thinned and needs to be styled! We shared a laugh and knew we, as women, had in common the need to fix things. After a brief conversation, I learned they are from Texas, he is a youth minister and she, in need of prayer, a minister’s wife. Bless them! I have no idea where they are in their journey of knowledge and faith, but I do know she is a firm believer in prayer. Because of some things we discussed, I knew I would remember and pray for them. Then she really touched my heart as she said, “when we cross your mind, that’s probably when we need your prayer most”. Her next comment was just raw naked truth – “it seems that when he (her husband) is preparing for the occasional times he does pulpit speaking, we are feuding and fussing – satan is stirring discord – the kids are getting upset…” Oh Father God, have mercy on the young families all over the world who must go through this! The devil sees all effort to learn of God’s will, as his chance to wreak havoc. Just like the Markey family, there seem to be more poison arrows than we have shields to deflect; until we remember God and His shield, the only one big enough for the job. (“above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one.” Ephesians 6:16) Faith in God, our BIG shield; and this sweet little momma juggling dependability (as a wife), disappointment (as a daughter) and duty (as a mom) had faith that my prayers would be heard. Momma M., “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13) and so can you, and so can dad M. Do not give up! Study hard and grow far.

It was refreshing when the six year old splashed out to us, declaring her name was Mary, and showing me her painted fingernails. She said, “I was named after baby Jesus’ mother!” In turn, I shared with her my love for John chapter 20 in which a different Mary went searching for Jesus; and I showed her my blue toenails. Her giggles assured me I was cool, and she waded back to shore, bodyboard in tow. Mary didn’t seem ready to trust the bodyboard beneath her, but kept carrying it around with her instead. We moms, in a similar way, don’t always completely trust that shield of faith but we keep carrying it, and one day, if we grow, we will let it carry us.

“When we cross your mind…” Yes, and if I cross your mind, pray for me too. Satan has no limits on age and occupation. We all face adversity. Quite possibly God, in bringing me to mind, has sought for me, your prayer.

Trisha

Ocean View

26 Monday Sep 2022

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There’s a pleasant sound when the earth is in motion, when the waves come ashore from the ocean.

We’ve just returned from a trip to Seaside, Florida, my husband and I, where we stood in the soft white sand and viewed those astounding color bands from crystal clear over our feet, to the deep blue where the ocean and sky meet. All those bands of aqua, green, and blue, are my favorite colors, but especially the brilliant sweep just before the horizon’s edge, like the blue from spring’s bluebird. I don’t know if it was merely getting to see the ocean again, or the thrill of witnessing my husband’s first view of the Gulf, but whatever it was, it trickled from my eyes and made me clap my hands. “The vastness of it…” was all we could utter for a while.

From the moment we arrived at our cottage called “Waves”, to our trip’s goodbye at sunset, I was thrust into a sea of beauty, both actual and metaphoric. Our upmost emotion as we stood in the unending waves was certainly gratitude; for a safe arrival, and for the beauty our eyes beheld.

I kept thinking of God’s question to Job in chapter 38. “Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said:…Or who shut in the sea with doors, when it burst forth and issued from the womb; when I made the clouds its garment, and thick darkness its swaddling band; when I fixed My limit for it and set bars and doors; when I said, This far you may come, but no farther, and here your proud waves must stop!” (verses 1, 8-11) It is good to feel so small; to know there is a grand and awesome presence more than our human strength and frailties. How humbling to know the God who created a force so great it grinds rock and shells into powder, yet so gentle children can splash at its edge; a pure wonder! But a wonder to be respected for sure, and not just a little caution should be taken while enjoying even the gentler side of this great body of water.

While my husband’s choice kept him knee deep distance from shore, I never can resist getting all in. Up to my chin in waves, my toes bouncing, touching the familiar feel of sand, I remembered the fisherman Peter. Immediately I knew we have been too hard on him, accusing him of little faith, though Jesus had a right to say so of His disciple. But we? Not so much! Peter at least had the faith to take a step, a leap of faith so to speak, out of the boat into the angry sea. It wasn’t a beautiful bright day with folks watching, floatation devices in hand. It was a stormy night where the only other companions were crying out in fear. It wasn’t chin deep, but “in the middle of the sea, tossed by the waves” that Peter professed to his Lord, “Lord if it is you…” Command me. I will come. And he stepped right out onto the rolling crashing waves, knowing it was Jesus Who called “Come”. Now, being human, he did take his eyes off Jesus and did begin to sink, and Jesus did save him. But I’m here to tell you, as I met my waves eye to eye, I could not say I would have stepped out of Peter’s boat. Just knowing my fear of approaching people with the gospel, I cannot say I would answer so boldly the call Peter heard. You can read about it in Matthew 14:22-33.

The call to become a Christian is one we hear through His Word. I answered by being baptized in a swimming pool, the nearest body of water at the time. I still get distracted and take my eyes off Jesus . I still start to sink. He still saves. I am thankful for Peter’s example, one of stepping out in faith in the first place. Whatever we feel God is calling us to do, let us echo the faith Peter demonstrated as he stepped out of the boat, and let us keep our eyes on Jesus.

The colors, the sounds, the vastness of it all, are part of what keep us going back to the ocean. Each time I’ve been I come away with new inspiration for life, from life. This is the first in a series of “Ocean View” I have washing around in my head. I hope you’ll join me as we discover little treasures on the beach with an ocean view. Trisha

Sept 22, 2022 Seaside, FL

Bunny Chase

31 Sunday Jul 2022

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Enjoying the rain from our kitchen window with my first cup of Portland Blend this morning, my view shifted suddenly from the serene stillness to a lively chase. Already immersed in the beauty of a gentle rain which has been absent from our west Kentucky summer, I was nearly startled by the activity. Not the usual one resident rabbit, but two bunnies emerged from my garden, jumping at each other’s face, then racing around the first crepe myrtle, and continued their dance and chase around the next five crepe myrtles! One would chase the other around the tree, then meeting to begin hopping and prancing, sometimes fist bumping their front paws and then repeat the activity with the next tree. As the leader circled the sixth tree, it disappeared into the soybeans, leaving a bewildered bunny to hop slowly, hesitatingly, back toward the garden shed. I felt a little sorry for the kid, and wondered if they’d ever see each other again.

Life can be a total rabbit chase! I wonder if my maniacal gardening appears to others like the chase I had just watched, around and around and on to the next job in line. We hear of chasing a rabbit down a hole, which again, I’m prone to do, especially if I’m trying to relay some incident. Some notion enters my brain as another is being explained and off I go. And then there’s that great big expanse of a soybean field lying across the lives of our children, friends, work families and so forth. Their paths divert in some direction other than ours and it’s a toss up as to whether they’ll cross again, or lead off in still further mazes. It’s just life.

I hope we jump and fist bump and dance in circles and run our races together for as long as we’re given. Life can be terrific that way; and sad that way.

In my gratitude for the long awaited and much needed rain, I’m also sorry for those who are dealing with too much of it and the rolling rivers. Thankful for the break in temperatures these last couple days, we brace for the coming week of horrid heat. I’m glad I got to see the antics of the rabbits this morning and was reminded to be thankful for our people as well as reminded to stop and play now and then. The chase can be tiring, so remember to rest mentally and emotionally as well as (and probably more importantly than) the physical rests.

“Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭46:10‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

Fake Lakes

13 Monday Jun 2022

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“Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good.” (Romans 12:9)

Few things are as inspiring as young children whose efforts to try on life are just down right funny and at the same time, may slap a helping of practical onto our pretense. Several such ‘little’ inspirations were provided lately, one being a delightful visit from my niece Sara and her preschool boys. To begin with, as if their big blue eyes and chubby cheeks weren’t adorable enough, they came in proclaiming just how happy I must be for them to be here! Yes, I was, actually, and so why, pray tell, do we adults often act almost apologetic for showing up at someone’s door? It was so heart-warming to know they fully expected me to be happy.

As with every single little person who has ever been in our house, these boys too, discovered the joy of our Smurf Ahoy game. Now, in case you’ve never seen one, its container is a 12 inch square cardboard box about six inches deep, swimming pool-blue inside, and a cardboard ship is balanced over this blue “ocean”. The object is to see how many smurfs you can place on the ship without tipping it over and spilling the smurfs into the “water”.  As you might imagine, two and three year olds think it’s much funnier when the objectives are ‘how fast can I tip the boat’, and ‘how loudly can I call out the color on the spinner’? Totally unconcerned with any status of being winner, they simply thrust themselves into it, often literally.  Jameson, the younger lad, decided to “get in the lake” himself and proceeded to squat over the box. Stopping him just in time, we explained it was only a pretend, or fake lake. As they continued spinning the little arrow for another smurf move, my mind was spinning about fake lakes, and the precious lens of honesty through which children view the world. As I picked up the fake apple Jameson had been carrying around from my kitchen bowl of wax fruit, I felt kind of bad, you know, like – are these children going to decide this is a house of fake; a game with fake water,  a beautiful apple you can’t eat, and plastic grapes that disappoint as well? Lord, help me be a transparent person with real ears for listening; real vision for seeing needs; real boldness to speak truth, all wrapped in real love. Never let me lose my real zeal for making ‘joy’ a genuine full-to-the-brim lake splashing with praise.

In so many ways we grow out of thrusting ourselves into the fun of life, and choose instead, the fake lakes where you’re safely neat and dry, concerned with appearance and refinement, though it may be a veneer to hide our inner child. Oh, I get it – manners are important and it is necessary we learn to use a filter so as not to offend. These are valuable issues that should come with maturity. But children show us what we are missing when we over extend these traits and cast a shadow over the richness of excitement for life. One example I’ll never forget is a side-by-side ride about a decade ago, with great nieces Katja and Izzy and our side-kick Ryan. Ready for the end of a busy fun (but long) day, I was concerned with getting everyone safely back to the house; but not Katja! “Wow, Aunt Trisha, look at that sunset!” If not for her unending zeal I’d have missed that one. I take for granted the shared appreciation of sunsets and butterfly kisses, instead of proclaiming aloud the joy in case someone missed it. (Thank you Janette DeWitt for being a sunset sharer.)

Back to the ‘who-cares-who-wins’ attitude so important to having fun, I got to watch a T-ball game this summer where three year old Jack, another great nephew, was playing. After 199 times of telling me he wanted to go to my ‘howwss’ it was his turn to run the bases. As soon as he crossed home plate, he turned, pointing to me through the fence, and yelled, “I wanna go to your howwss!” My heart soared! Home run! May we all be so persistent in letting others know, including God, how much we love spending time with them. “Let all those who seek You rejoice and be glad in You;” (Psalm 70:4)

Little kids are the ones who reward you with exploring all around your house in wonder. We adults are way too cool, scarcely letting our eyes wander, afraid to actually show genuine interest; and after all your hard work to make it interesting! I know, manners and all that. Next time I visit though, I’m going to ooh and aah the way I really feel anyway. (smile) One day when Ryan DeWitt was about five, he asked to hear my antique Victrola play a record. Seems like it was “How Do You Talk to an Angel?” Anyway, as the speakers scratched out a tune, little Ryan looked up at me and the blue-eyed gent asked me if I’d like to dance. LIKE??? Oh my stars, he made my day!! You never know who may just be teetering between up or down, and your invitation to dance could make all the difference. Go ahead and ask, or pick a dandelion, or hold their hand. Make their day.

The children have nailed it with food too.  I’m always forgetting to offer the ice cream, or I leave the deviled eggs in the refrigerator, and guests are so polite they’d rather do without than say a word. Kids are great. They just say, “hey, you got any cookies?” and if you don’t, it’s no big deal, they just check for the next best thing, like “how about ‘nabanas’ or “pasghetti” as my nephew’s little boy, Grayson, used to ask. Always have bananas, and chocolate chip cookies on hand so you can look smart. Especially if a couple weeks earlier you served tossed salad to a group of girlfriends and forgot to set out the dressings until everyone was eating and your sister asked for them. (;

When great niece Izzy was at the ‘fort-under-the-dining-table’ age, she and our neighbor’s little girl were dragging quilts through the house to make their hide-out. One particular quilt is reversible, and I suppose Izzy had just never noticed the pink floral side to the quilt that covered her in the guest bed. Even in her excitement of building their cotton covered table fort, she suddenly stopped mid-stride, and looking down onto the never before seen side of her quilt, she exclaimed, “Oh Aunt Trisha, that is so pretty!” Do I take time to stop amid my busy task-filled days to give an honest compliment to someone’s accomplishments? (No, I didn’t make the quilt; it’s old, and I sure wish whoever did make it could have heard the totally honest praise!) Kids don’t mind that you’ll infer they do not have a pink floral quilt, or a blouse as pretty as yours. They just pile on the praise when they notice, and want to show appreciation. How many times I pass up the pause in stride to add a little sweetness to someones day!

Then there’s the departure. We say something like “well, I’d better get going now” or “I’ve hindered you long enough” as if our presence could be a problem or something. Not little kids! They make sure you know how much they like being there by flat out refusing to leave with mom. “No! I wanna stay” accompanied by tears, erases any question you may have had about your guests feeling at home. If however, they’ve had enough and want to go, they just say so, without pretense. And this day, Sara’s older child, Colt, walked up to my husband’s recliner, and leaning toward him, asked “do you wanna hug me bye?” Mercy, how sweet can they be? Open, honest, forward – no fake stuff there. I’ve said for several years that life’s too short to be fake. The littles in my life are living proof. Perhaps here is a compromise between the two departure style: Well, I’ve loved our time here together, but we both have grown-up stuff to get done, so until our next meeting…

God offers living water, never fake, which nourishes our souls all day long.  Drink deeply and do as He does – never offer fake lakes. 

“Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Jesus, in Matthew 18:3)

Planting With Prayer and Patience

23 Monday May 2022

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Good Monday morning to you! To quote the lion in The Wizard of Oz, “Unusual wedder we’re havin’ ain’t it?” While it is a bit chilly for me, the recent showers were wonderful. As I walked out to my garden yesterday I thought of a new piece patched into a quilt. Rich deep brown with green stripes of leaflets and spikes in contrast. Only two days ago I was murmuring and doubtful. Harsh dry winds in the week following my planting plus what I feared might have been only partially prepared soil, gave me concern and I was already wondering if I had saved enough seed to replant.

Oh ye of little faith! God’s masterful plan is unfolding once again in the germination and new growth of another garden, and as Audrey Hepburn said, “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow”. (Still one of my favorite quotes.) Times like this remind us of the instruction from our Lord Jesus Christ to go out there and plant the seed of His Word. Don’t worry if you have enough, nor if the condition of hearts is ready, nor about the opposing winds of worldliness. Ill winds, infertile hearts and giving us enough – those are God’s job and He’s been taking care of it for generations. His plan is good. He said plant, pray and wait. He is the maker; He gives the increase. (Ecclesiastes 11:4-5)

There is no limit to tomorrow’s harvest of goodness from one child taught, one good deed done or one seed of encouragement.

As youngsters, many of us learned Hebrews chapter 11 as the “hall of faith”. The first verse defines ‘faith’ as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen”. Whatever we do in teaching, encouraging or deeds for others, we must do so believing in tomorrow and the power of God to make it good.

A Little Birdie Told Me

11 Monday Apr 2022

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Happy soggy Monday (again!) to you. Yesterday was a most perfect day with warm breezes and bright sunshine, perhaps our first this year. Isn’t it strange what a few hours can do to not only the weather, but our moods as well? As I was racing to complete my Monday “must-do” list in hopes of reaching the flower bed before the rain, I was about to start complaining over this weather of ours. We’d already had a light morning mist, but the breeze was mild and I had visions of easy picking – those weeds would just pop right out for me if – IF – I could just get out there before it rained any more. Ha! Not today. And the farmers would say, “flower beds? Seriously? Try making a living in this rain!” I know; I’m married to one.

Scowling toward the darkening window of rain drops, I noticed a beautiful Ruby-throated sipping at our Yoshino cherry tree, our first hummingbird of the year! Seemingly oblivious to the clouds and rain, he was enjoying the provision of sweet nectar in nature. The world was right again for me – Spring is going to happen regardless of the timing, and certainly without regard to my mood! From there I moved to another window, and lo and behold, our dogwood had unfolded lovely little red petals just to cheer the day. I was reminded of rebirth, new growth, resurrection. And so many blessings!

Just yesterday the back yard was filled with songbirds; bluebirds swooping from tree limbs to clothesline; black shiny martins soaring from their apartments to the electrical lines, and strawberry heads of finches bobbing and darting from limb to lawn. The combined chorus of all seemed to be singing the praises of their Maker. Green wheat growing alongside our lawn was rippling in the breeze like ocean waves and as I closed my eyes, the breeze gently rocked my hammock. I felt deeply ashamed of recent moodiness over missed vacations, knowing many desired destinations will never be realized. To be honest, I feel I couldn’t be away from all this anyway – awakening, spring time, rebirth – I don’t want to miss a thing!

Previous years’ hard work has yielded much new growth of fresh green leaves, tender shoots of hostas, iris and peonies, to name a few, just waiting for their bloom time when they will lift faces upward and give honor to their Creator. With so much energy emerging all around, how can I allow anything to put me down? Silly me, look at the lilies of the field, the raven, all so cared for by God and thriving with no concern for themselves at all! (Luke 12:24) “Consider the ravens, for they neither sow nor reap, which have neither storehouse nor barn; and God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds?”

Bloom where you’re planted. Seek nurture in nature. Be anxious for nothing, (Philippians 4:6). God is good, all the time.

Give Me Kentucky

22 Monday Nov 2021

Posted by in MONDAY MUSINGS, Nature

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” If these United States can be called a body, then Kentucky can be called its heart.” – Author: Jesse Stuart

“Then God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good.” Genesis 1:31a

I admire how an author can bring to life the feel and the sights and sounds of a place, as a painter does on canvas. I was introduced to the writing of Jesse Stuart in the eighth grade by Ms. Ann Woods. She also taught me to never again say “Oh it’s just homemade”, but to say instead, “thank you, it was handmade just for me”. For these things, I love her still. Every year as the hickory nuts fall I remember the school grounds with the enormous trees and a wise teacher. And I do get the feeling all this nature was handmade just for me. Kentuckians are proud of their people, and their crafts and their land I think, like I am sure most are of any state they call home. But I am partial to what is familiar and comfortable to me. Like autumn in Kentucky.

On several days this month, I stood like a kid watching the circus leave town, and almost waved goodbye to the warmth of the scarlet colors and the November air. I believe I actually did blow a kiss toward the sky. Perhaps knowing Autumn is a fast moving train is one of it’s attractions. I anticipate her arrival with such gladness I hardly think about her departure leaving us cold in the wake.

Another of my favorite authors is Rick Bragg, though I believe he never mentions our state. Rick Bragg can almost make Alabama and Louisiana sound desirable, the way a new recipe in Southern Living can make plain old food more enticing. However, nothing he has said makes me want to move down there, not that we’ve been invited. I do like living on the edge – the edge between South and North – neither one, but the best of both. Do not misunderstand, I truly love Rick Bragg’s stories like I love my roses. It’s just the adjectives of Alabama are more like the thorns on the roses; but the rest of his stories, the people, are the vivid colors and fragrances of our rose beds. I do believe Mrs. Bragg raised a mighty fine writer who makes even hot muggy red clay of the South alive, rearing camaraderie and family like no other.

Nothing, however, about red clay, red tide football, nor red bulgy-eyed crawdads tempt me to abandon the sweet bluegrass of Kentucky. As I do not understand football, and being a basketball girl myself, I’m still holding out for a true blue and white rebound.  I do love a good basketball game as much as I hate politics. So do not try to debate me out of my comfort zone. Anyway, ‘my old Minnesota home’ or ‘my old Alabama home” just doesn’t sound right, does it?

As far as northward is concerned, I have been up through Illinois and I saw their rich black soil, so rich the flowers bloom neon colors. Their crop yields require grain bins on each end of the field and large wagons in the middle to dump the overfill. But I wouldn’t trade our warm brown Kentucky earth for losing my ears to the wind I felt coming off the lake in Chicago one March.

I do envy any state’s close proximity to fresh seafood. You may actually have me on that one. I think though, I’ll just wait for a good shipment of shrimp, back here in the shade of our maple trees. Few things in my humble opinion, rival a drive along the Bluegrass Parkway, or skimming over the water of Kentucky Lake.

I consider myself southern, if I had to pick one over the other.  But to me, the best locale descriptor is “I’m a Kentuckian” where we usually get to see a January morning poured out like marshmallow cream as far as the eye can see, and watch March flowers pop up thirty days later as we loft a kite in our short sleeves. Then, when a hoodie of heat and humidity slides over me, I hear someone from the deep south tell me how much worse it gets down there, and I catch my breath in the breeze that’s never more than a few days away. Spring and summer showers induce a radiance of fall color popping against a frosty October morning canvas. Never in Kentucky do the days drone into weeks because nothing is as changeable as Kentucky weather. Hardly ever a dull moment, and as they say, variety is the spice of life.

This time of year, (and what I really started out to say) I am starstruck by the deciduous display of gemstone colors. I’m sure pine trees are nice, when Alabama can get a wind singing through them, and pine needles do make great mulch (which still probably isn’t enough to get a lot out of red clay) but just give me the red, purple, gold and orange of maples and dogwoods, sourwood and sumac, poplars, sweetgums and hickories. While we do not claim to own the only beautiful trees in America, with nearly half our acreage in hardwood, it is a jaw-dropping, totally in-love experience to live a Kentucky autumn! 

Door Knockers

01 Monday Nov 2021

Posted by in Encouragement, MONDAY MUSINGS

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“For a great and effective door has opened to me, and there are many adversaries.” I Corinthians 16:9

NKJV

 

Who knocks on doors any more? With little yapping house dogs, the popular door bell, and (rudely, yes) car horns, there doesn’t seem to be much door knocking lately. 

I was recently given a brass door knocker inscribed with my dad’s last name. As I began to count those of my paternal grandparents’ descendants who could possibly use it, the thought occurred to me how rarely we knock, literally and figuratively, on doors. Likewise, how often do we miss a knock on the door. The last time I knocked on a door I got sore knuckles and no answer.

 

Opportunity may come knocking; guests, maybe; hard times sure can come a knockin’ and the proverbial wolf at the door may have slipped through. Will I answer? When fear of the unknown halts my hand from opening, I’ll never know what stands on the other side. Open it anyway. It doesn’t mean I have to let it all in. Greet it bravely; hope for the best, embrace the potential to be the good someone needs. Perhaps we will be called outside our threshold  of comfort; or we may seize an opportunity to draw someone from their cold circumstances into our warmth. Be kind and if kindness demands a parting of the way, be kind still. When the wolf is at the door, be thankful for the smallest things and he will flee from you. When the hand of goodness is extended to you, grab it. Offer grace to the not so good, for you may see it again someday, transformed by your grace. 

“Let brotherly love continue. Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some have unwittingly entertained angels.” Hebrews 13: 1-2

 

I have, no doubt, left the door shut for fear it might be ‘hard times’, inconvenience, or an adversary.  I imagine Jesus was on the other side inviting me to go with Him on some mission of good. I probably felt pushed for time, or resources (aka money), or more than likely felt inadequate to meet the challenge. A less honorable, and probably more truthful excuse would be laziness, pure and simple. It takes effort to answer the door. But if we do invite opportunity in, she may require shuffling some furniture to accommodate her or she might have dirty feet.  I’m sure the images each of us see on the other side of our figurative door, are all different. Asking a neighbor to bible study; overseas mission work; prison ministry; cleaning house for someone disabled; watching a stressed momma’s kids while she takes a break, and the list is endless. I hope and pray we can all open when opportunity knocks, extend hospitality and in turn find the joy of working elbow to elbow with Christ; feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, clothing the poor, tending the sick and visiting jails.  (Matthew 25: 35-37)

As I hold the smooth shiny door knocker in my hand, I feel driven to find a home for it. Hopefully my musing the matter of doors will propel me toward opening my closed and careful world to be more like Jesus.