Tag Archives: Faith

Southern Brick Wall

28 Wednesday Jan 2026

Posted by in Encouragement

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

I gazed longingly at my old flip-flops abandoned in a corner of the sunroom. I knew it would be a while before my fur baby and I could run out quickly in pjs and flip-flops, he without his doggy sweater. Seven inches of snow and sleet with temperatures in the single digits and teens, assured me this would be with us more than a moment. With gratitude for a warm house, running water, food in the freezer, and hot coffee, I am content — until I see the worn out flip-flops; and I wish I were wearing them now. Life has a way of yanking us back and forth from sighs of gratitude, to collisions of complaining, to relief of respite. Please, if I complain about the heat next July, just slap me!

Still, the sheen of sunshine over a pristine blanket of snow is a sight hard not to appreciate. But what if we were without electricity as many of our southern neighbors are. Oh, I know what if…we have been there before — feeding fuel into a portable generator, packing coolers of water into the house, flushing toilets with gallon jugs of water, and gathering by the gas logs while the generator rests. I recall in our former house, which was over 90 years old, opening the cabinet doors and leaving the water dripping even with electricity, and then keeping the hair dryer ready to start thawing the pipes anyway! Oh yes, I know how quickly the beautiful, playful snow and sparkling ice diamonds can become a pain in the neck. And yet, I am content to watch the season play itself out, appreciate the beauty, and be prepared for the beast. Life is as unpredictable as our state of heart.

Yesterday the temperature was 15 degrees after the sun had shone half the day, and as I watched my little Auggie scamper around on the frozen surface, I reached out and placed my hand on the southern-facing brick wall of the garage. I could feel warmth through my glove. “Surely”, I thought, “this wall cannot be warm on a day like today”.  Other days, yes; but how can this frigid air not stand between my wall and the sun? With a glove removed, I reached out, and sure enough, the wall was warm. Just as I had experienced in cold — but not as cold of weather — my southern brick wall was still soaking up and sharing the warmth of the winter sun living in the southern sky. We all need a Southern Brick Wall. When the bad comes in blizzards, and the coldness of the world reaches out to chill our hearts, we need a warm brick wall. Standing between us and the howling winds of heartache and harm, they absorb the warm rays of the Lord, penetrating even the coldest of days.

Someone who can be your southern brick wall, is someone who faces God, as the wall faces the south; looking to God for the warmth of His love and the truth of His word, that he or she may exude the same upon you in your days of chill and change. Our southern brick wall holds a heart of warmth where we can lean for the support and respite we need to continue on, and not be rocked off our feet by a blast of bitterness. Our southern brick wall will not allow the world’s attractions to cause her to abandon us. Most importantly, our southern brick wall will tell you she is not perfect. She too, can crumble, and become unintentionally cold with her own shadows, but will always point you toward the Son, Who never changes. “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning” (James 1:17 NKJV). “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever” (Isaiah 40:8).

Change is impossible to avoid, and as we await the mush of spring thaws, we can also watch for the daffodil shoots and look forward to the freshness of their aroma. We will be aware of the likelihood of spring storms, but we also know where our southern brick walls are. Look for that person in your life who knows how to stand strong for you; who has strengthened themselves on the riches of God’s word and can help you walk through the worst. Better yet, soak up the love of the Lord yourself that you may stand ready when someone you know needs a strong, warm, southern brick wall. 

LEFTOVERS

01 Thursday Jan 2026

Posted by in Celebrating, Reflections

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

Give to the Lord the glory due His name; bring an offering, and come into His courts. (Psalms 96:8) NKJV

On this beautiful first day of 2026, I find myself thinking more about things left over from previous years, and how to make them work for good in time to come. Like almost everyone, I began wishing you a happy new year, just before Christmas. I’ve enjoyed reading a few posts concerning hopes for 2026 and comments on closing of the old year. My heart is full of more good memories and love, but my refrigerator is full; just full. As for past years’ happy and woeful, time has moved so quickly for me that I can’t recall what was going on in what year, but have instead, begun calling things, “some time ago”, and “currently”. It’s safer that way.

On the day after Christmas, I started thinking about several leftovers. One was the decorated trees in our home, and the ornaments left from previous years. How I love holding each one and, with leftover memories, recite to myself the occasion or person responsible for each ornament being on our tree. Thankfully, many have the date written or else they would all be from the same time — some time ago! Much to the horror of those gone on before me, our trees are still up on January 1, and may be for several more days. The leftover fatigue of preparation may be partly to blame, but mostly I just like the time now for me to enjoy the sparkle and warmth of our decorations. However, this led me to realize the leftover intentions I never fulfilled. We also call these “what I forgot”. On the years my extended family meets at our house for Christmas, I have small ornaments they sign, date, and hang on our tree. Once or twice it was small bright red apples. Another, it was plain white balls; and a couple others, they signed red jingle bells. This year, I forgot my own tradition. And as always, the pickle was not even mentioned, so it hung in the sunroom tree until my daughter thought of it days afterward. Now, I have the leftover task of taking new bells, or balls, or whatever I can find, to each household and having them sign for Christmas 2025. Ah, leftovers!

The next leftovers that came to mind, are relationships. We all have them. People we thought we would stay in touch with but as time washes all the days together, we lose touch. Not that we don’t care about them or they us, but in healthy normal lifestyles, we meet new people, or form new relationships due to the paths our lives take, and before you know it a year has gone by and those important associations whom we love dearly, have faded into their own busy lives. Like good memories, they dangle just out of reach. We miss them, and we care about them, but (maybe because I am older) there are only so many minutes in a day and when some of those minutes take hours, well, it is just hard to keep up with a fast-paced world. You get it, right? I firmly believe in this quote my mother taught me: “Make new friends and keep the old; one is silver and the other is gold”. Cherish your leftovers and new ones alike.

You likely thought of food the instant you read the title of today’s blog. It is certainly an issue for this house. Why DO we prepare for legions of people when we are expecting 23 including tots and babies? As we ate leftovers (again) yesterday, I knew the line was drawing near, over which the left over food could become dangerous. Even partly cleaned out, our refrigerator is over-stuffed. We are a blessed people, but teetering on foolish, I’m afraid. Now, in my mind, Southern Living and Better Homes and Gardens were written to whet the appetite for cooking, not eating. I try new recipes, but cling to those left over from the — oh, some time ago — when I began collecting recipes from family and friends. So, the time honored traditions continue and are joined by the tempting new concoctions, filling my kitchen with hope, aroma, and yes, leftovers. There is a tin of Fantasy Fudge tempting me now from its place on the counter. I mean, what woman worth the salt in her bread doesn’t make Christmas fudge? I have a box in the freezer to refill this tin, if and when it is needed, which it isn’t. If any of you want fantasy fudge (delicious), please contact me and it is yours. Seems everyone is watching their weight and/or glucose levels, except me. And I should be. Okay, friends, it is a new year, so it is time to feed the trash can or freezer with your Christmas leftovers.

My left over resolution from years ago was to not make new year resolutions. It still stands. I hate to make promises I cannot keep, even to myself. There are however, some things I do try to get right for the new year, repeatedly. Some I have been successful with, like finally getting Gifts From the Garden written. I also began a more diligent study of biblical subjects, and I still need and plan to do more studying. I have been a teeny bit better with time management by letting social media rest more.

It seemed even the bluebirds knew it was the start of a new year this morning, as their excited chattering greeted me at the back door. As it turned out, a cheeping house sparrow had taken a shine to one of the bluebird houses, and the resident blues were quite in a tizzy as they flew in and out of the other empty houses and the magnolia tree, chattering away. Come to think of it, this too, is a leftover — an on-going rivalry over nesting sites. Who knew they’d start so soon? This leads me to some leftovers which are NOT desirable, as ornaments, relationships, and food are.

Can we try to let bygones be bygones, instead of leftovers? I wish I could teach the house sparrows this, so they would stop making trouble for hard working, peaceful songbirds. Let go of resentments and rivalries; move on to more pleasant matters.

Could I put my “money where my mouth is” and begin living out the life Christ has shown me to live? God really does not want the leftovers. I shouldn’t be willing to give Him the leftovers of my time and resources any more than I’d have served family week-old left over food on Christmas. “Honor the Lord with your possessions, and with the first fruits of all your increase;” (Proverbs 3:9) NKJV

Finally, I would like to be true to myself in what I hope to accomplish. Leftover intentions are a burden to carry year after year. This isn’t my first rodeo as they say, so why do I live like I have decades to get it right? I need to literally sit down and print out the things most important to me — things for the good of others, for the glory of God, and for the inner peace of myself. I hope to let go of ideas and thoughts I’ve had so long they’ve grown like bunions. Staying focused on what is “enough”, (as my sister would quote our late brother in Christ, Tommy Carraway), will be easier when I stop being distracted by shoulda/woulda/coulda.

Deciding what leftovers to keep and which to toss, will be my focus after I allow myself the relishing time I need. I feel a bit of purging coming down the pike; and I don’t mean food only. No resolutions; just determination to make this coming year count for good. If anyone has advice for making this easier, I am all ears.

I love you, sweet friends. If January 1 passes and you haven’t made some change you need to, it’s okay! With God, every day is a new year, a new opportunity, and the perfect time to turn leftovers into something spectacular. Happy new year! Trisha

Something Good in All of Us

07 Sunday Sep 2025

Posted by in Encouragement, Life

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

“There is so much good in the worst of us, and so much bad in the best of us, that it ill behooves any of us to find fault with the rest of us.” James Truslow Adams

To look at these tired bug-eaten bean plants, you would not expect anything worthwhile to come from them. Do we ever look at people that way? Do we feel like giving up? Last week I was ready to pull up the vines, hoping to make a less withered-looking garden spot. But, in true bean-lover form, I thought I would take one more look. Hot dry weather, a gardener who lost her will to weed, time and bugs, have worked on them for sure. People, too, get beat down, worn out and tested, but God — how many times in scripture do we read “but God…” — made it better, or saved entirely, a dire situation. Example: “And the patriarchs, becoming envious, sold Joseph into Egypt. But God was with him. ( Acts 7:9)

Now look at that little one-gallon ice-cream bucket there beside the row. Beneath these spindly Blue Lake bushes, remained the little moisture and will to live, given by the Lord Himself. Underneath the bushes, I found long tender beans just waiting to be noticed.

As a gardener in a garden, God the Father plants us, waters and nourishes us with all good spiritual gifts, sacrificed blood, sweat, and tears for us, and prepares a table for His expected harvest. He did not give up on you or me nor all humanity. He sees. We search. He loves. We try again. “Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.” (I Corinthians 15:58)

By the time I finished both rows, I had two of those little buckets full; and a heart full of resolution to look harder for the good in everyone, as well to surrender the “I’m too old to be useful” idea. Like Daddy’s little ice-cream buckets, we can be repurposed and useful as long as we last. I’m not pulling up those green bean plants. I saw several blooms and baby beans that, who knows, just might make it to another dinner table. I don’t see them giving up until we, or Jack Frost, tell them to.

Never give up — on yourself, or anyone else — while there is life there is hope. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)

Running From Bears and Hiding in Hope

19 Monday May 2025

Posted by in Faith, MONDAY MUSINGS

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

An excellent lesson last evening on fear, and conquering it through the promises of Isaiah 41:10, reminded me of a draft I had started a few years ago. I brought it out and brushed it up, so we will take a break from the “Old Tables and Old Tales” series.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10) ESV

Stifled sobs from my shaking body awakened my husband, who in turn woke me from a nightmare. I couldn’t stop sobbing, even after getting to my feet to shake the troubling images from my head. I went straight for my phone not even caring what time it was. My son answered quickly, and by that time I was in the kitchen where I saw it was only 10:45. But the depth and distress of the dream made it seem like the middle of the night.

The question of where do dreams come from has never been answered to my satisfaction. It seems the mind just goes on random thought tangents with no boundaries. While common sense is sleeping, the little imps of imagination play. Obviously, some dreams are the result of fears – even those we have hidden away. Like dreams, real life can surprise us around any corner with a jack-in-the-box, either scary or funny. It’s only natural to hide from one and hope for the other.

I recall a recurrent nightmare from childhood. Three times at least, over a span of time, I dreamt that I was in my aunt’s house, the square-style house with four rooms all connected without a hall. You can start in the kitchen, go left into the bedroom, turn left into the next bedroom, turn left and enter the living room, then left again into the kitchen where you started. In my dream, there was a wooden highchair in the kitchen. A bear would begin to chase me, through the circuit of those rooms, around and around. Just as it was gaining on me, I would dive under the highchair.  The bear in my dream would stop, sniff around the chair, and the pounding of my heart would wake me. I’m pretty sure I know the fear behind the bear; and the hiding place being in that particular house, had to be that I always knew I was safe and loved there. Love conquers fear.

The gut-wrenching fear that spurred my more recent nightmare is one I believe all parents have in common. We do not want to see our children lose their hope – oh not the hope of Christmas Eve or birthday eve when kids know a fun-filled morning will follow – but true hope, an expectation, a belief that some yet unseen, good thing can and will happen. As adults we have seen enough ice-cream cones plop, to make us guard our hope. We’ve had earthly plans and hopes fall through, and we’ve also seen promises from God fulfilled as He held our world together. This is our hope to keep on trying. That’s what we want for our children isn’t it; to experience enough good so that good becomes their expectation. And to know their hope is tethered to the sure promises of God.

I believe the incidence of mental illness, suicide, and physical ailments are directly related to the loss of hope – hope that there is something, someone, greater than this shaky world. The natural tendency is to hope in this world’s goods and accomplishments, because that’s where we started as children, when we thought hope was in wishes. With maturity, the hopes and losses get bigger. Love, friendship, trust – the big ticket items –  hurt much more if lost, than getting the wrong Barbie, or having your birthday party rained out. I remember my Mama telling me it was so much easier to treat my skinned knee with a bandaid and a kiss, than to treat my heart aches. I didn’t appreciate that until I had children of my own. After enough bumps and bruises from this world, we gain appreciation for stability – yoked, tethered, and anchored to our true and living God – all-knowing, unmoving, and strong enough to stop the bears that cause our fear. And we want to see our young realize this true hope – the strengthening, helping, upholding hand of God. (Isaiah 41:10)

What we never want to see as they grow up, is one slap, one punch, one blow after another, until they don’t feel they can get up. We want them to keep being excited about life; to know that good overrules evil, and right is never wrong. We want to see the gleam in their eyes until we close ours the final time. Their happiness is more important to us than our own. That is why we must, MUST show them the hope that never fails. We must take the time to talk our God knowledge out loud, to show them real hope lives, and it sure as shootin’ ain’t in the shifting times we’re living! God gave us a world of beauty, fun, friends and abilities; but more than that, He has promised that no matter how this world goes, His children have Him walking them through it all.

I’ll wake up one morning, far from those nightmares, where fears are no more. No sobbing, no shaking, no heartaches and no dashed hopes. I know this because I have read God’s promises, along with the proof of His faithfulness. No matter how much we have now, we will never have it all, until we rest in the Lord. Until then, nothing in this life is certain. We’ll keep running from room to room until the bear dies and the house is turned over to God.  I thought I had turned my fears over to God, but apparently some still simmered in the background, producing bad dreams of lost hope. If my hope is really in the Lord, I won’t be hiding in fear with my heart pounding, but hidden in hope, away from fear’s chase, secure in Jesus Christ.

So, who is the bigger giant here? Is it hope, or is it fear?

Fear is big that is for sure! But hope stands higher as the cure

Fear chases like an angry bear. Hope is the rock that seals his lair.

Fear is strong, but stronger yet, is the hand of God – the help we get.

Fear can slap you to the ground, Hope in the Lord will make you sound.

Fear is daring, I can’t deny. But for our hope the Savior died.

My first favorite verse of scripture was Isaiah 40:31. But verse 30 includes our youth, so I have amended my favorite to include both verses. I love my children, and my nieces and nephews so much; and I pray their fears are conquered, their hope in this life realized, and their true hope in the Lord to be more than they dared ever dream.

“Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:30-31) ESV

A Hebrew lexicon explanation of “but those who wait” is the word “Qavah” meaning “to wait, look for, hope, expect”. (Strong’s Hebrew 6960)  My prayer is that we, all generations, will hope in the Lord, that we will run, walk, and soar with the eagles.

It’s The Little Things

21 Monday Apr 2025

Posted by in MONDAY MUSINGS, The unexpected

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

Standing cross-armed beside the small hummingbird feeder, I watched my Yorkie walk through the grass to do what little doggies do. Suddenly a faint buzzing blew past me and the owner of it hovered at the feeder. Not even an arm’s-length away, a ruby-throated male hummingbird began stabbing the plastic blossoms, drinking the nectar inside, and holding me captive – and captivated. It probably lasted no more than a minute, but it was a nice long southern minute, and I enjoyed it immensely. As they say, “it’s the little things”.

Inside an old weathered wooden bluebird box, are five little helpless baby bluebirds. I watched the parent birds build their neat little nest; then I soon counted one, two, three, four, and then five beautiful little aqua blue eggs, one egg per day. Fifteen days later, I raised the door to look inside, finding five scrawny fuzzy little heads barely bobbing about. Since then, I’ve looked inside to find tiny beaks wide open, awaiting the anticipated meals delivered so faithfully by the parents. They are too near fledging time for me to look inside now, for fear of causing premature fledging; but I feel pretty sure we will see an empty nest soon, and the world will be blessed with five little beauties looking for their place in the wild. I cannot keep myself from sending up a little prayer for their safety. It’s the little things, you know.

My husband has been on a frenzied mission lately. With an old badminton racket in hand – sometimes a battery-powered insect swatter – he is determined to get the carpenter bees before they riddle the framework of his outdoor buildings. Sitting on the front porch where the little buggers have tunneled through my swing, he is totally distracted from all else by these little things. I hope he wins. I like my swing. Little things – some good, some not so good.

It is only the end of April and I am about to start thinking all is not well with springtime. Just before a rain, during the rain, and after the rainfall, a trail of misery finds its way into the kitchen. By way of the minuscule crack where woodwork meets the wall, or under the baseboards, the tiny black crawling invasion makes its way onto any surface attached to the floor. The dog dishes are the first to be attacked; next, the countertop becomes their goal. Ant traps, spray cans, and constant cleaning seem to occupy way too much of our time. It is, sometimes, the little things that bother us most.

We enjoyed a lovely Easter weekend. I kept thinking of the big things – our daughter and son being near enough to spend the time with us; the table full of food and the ability to prepare it; the big-beyond-words sacrifice God made in allowing His perfect son Jesus to be the atonement for our sins; and ultimately, the enormous and wonderful morning of resurrection, making eternal life possible for all. “He is not here; for He is risen, as He said. Come, see the pace where the Lord lay” (Matthew 28:6) NKJV. For all this, I am truly thankful. The big things genuinely are amazing. But what I found myself commenting on most, was the beautiful weather – a seemingly little thing. Rain had been forecast for the weekend; what we got was sunshine and a good breeze. Something unexpected – even something small – can be such a pleasure that we just can’t stop mentioning it. I guess it’s the little things that keep us pacified and occupied, while the big things – the strong important things – hold us up and carry us through. Could be, we are all just a bunch of little kids, being pacified and occupied; and God looked lovingly at us, and said, “It’s the little things that count.”

Have a great week! Watch for the fascinating little things.

MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

Out With the Old, In With the New

02 Thursday Jan 2025

Posted by in Celebrating

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

Saturday, 12/28/24

Empty stockings, bulging refrigerator. Dog toys and dust all over the floor. Silent Saturday, children have gone home. Instructions to read for the new gifts we own. Stacks of laundry, and weight growing too, we lied we wouldn’t eat for a day or two. A few strings and dust scattered under the tree; lights off, old and new ornaments smiling at me. Moments of “what happened to the time”, blend with new plans for new year to unwind. New candles to light, burned ones to store. In a week 2024 is no more.

Happy New Year, dear reader. January 2, 2025     

What a joyful surprise today! An unexpected visit from our previous neighbors who moved ‘up north’ a couple summers ago. The Opferman family, Michael, Karen, Joey, Tim and Megan were the sweetest neighbors ever and I miss them so much. This visit was the crowning touch to my holiday season! As the new year approached,  I’d had such varied thoughts flying around in my head.

Like new years and old; laughter, tears and being bold; hope and disappointments and blessings untold; fear and faith, sadness and joy and the world we face. All swirling and trying to make sense of each other as they occupy the same space. Focus, I need to focus!

Like a wind among autumn leaves as they mount upward around and around trying to reach the top of their swirling funnel, so have been my thoughts and until today I could not plant myself at the keyboard to focus on one new year’s message. Now I know it – no, it is not ‘may all your dreams come true’; nor is it ‘may you prosper in all you do’; nor is it any resolution for myself. (I am reminded each new year of my previous new year’s resolution some 20 or more years ago, which was to never make another new years resolution. I have kept it quite well.). Although, I’d be happy for you if all your dreams came true. But then what would there be left for you to hope? Oh, and I will celebrate every prosperous season of your life, but perhaps you need to continue striving in some things, to grow stronger in faith, in confidence, and have a reason to hope. 

My message this year, brought by today’s surprise visit is this – may each day hold some joy for you; one or many, small or big, a joy that you may be able to hope and work with a purpose. My joy is knowing Jesus loves me unconditionally, and wants me to succeed in every worthy endeavor. It makes working a joy. It makes hope against this world a joy. This joy brings new chances after failures. This joy offers new journeys for closed doors, and forgiveness for regrets. It is a win/win deal; His strength for my weakness; His wisdom for my lack of it; to know at the end of any failed effort or any rejection of good intentions, if I can say I did my best when the day is done, there is joy. Joy in peace, in knowing God continues with us, bringing joy in big and small ways and finishing the things we’ve begun. He lights new candles for us as He sees the need. Last evening I stepped outside to see an amazing sunset of fiery red and orange behind the thousands of dark bare tree branches reaching upward out of the woods into a navy blue sky. There was the slightest sliver of moon and above it was the ‘star light star bright, first star I see tonight’. Now THAT’S a candle! Shivering in the cold I felt joy in knowing that I know the creator of all this! Pure joy.

A few highlights among many personal joys for me in 2024: our son bought his first house; sweet friends Nan and Tonya beat cancer; another dear friend Dana has courageously beat obstacles in her journey toward healing; my brave mission leader and friend Beth had a successful first surgery before upcoming ones; my husband asked for a new bible for Christmas; and my husband is finally really and truly for sure and certain, retired from farming.

May each day hold for you at least one joy. Happy New Year! Trisha

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him.” James 1: 2-5 NKJV

Glory

03 Wednesday Jul 2024

Posted by in Life, Through my window

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

“For the earth will be filled With the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, As the waters cover the sea.”
‭‭Habakkuk‬ ‭2‬:‭14‬ ‭NKJV

Awaking on a muggy July 3 it is already hot at 6:30 am. My dog and I make a short trek down toward the boat dock. A bum knee forces me back to the safety of my sister’s lake house. The view out the window says its a beautiful morning in spite of the heat and humidity. And in fact, it is.

Kentucky Lake

Life has its hot moments, for sure; life feels like a heavy wet blanket when troubles loom large. Backing away or retreating for a moment into the Word of the Lord refreshes and brings the big picture into perspective. God is still God; good and gracious. In the midst of troubles, He provides a rest and brings us out into a clear day. The heat will pass. The word of God endures forever.

Bless the name of the Lord. His glory covers the earth.

They Don’t Care; They Just Keep on Sipping

22 Wednesday May 2024

Posted by in Encouragement, Through my window

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

“Casing all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” I Peter 5:7

The sky has darkened, wind is gusting and rain is falling. Our resident hummingbirds dart in for another of many meals throughout the day. As the wind picks up, one female is left to continue receiving the nectar and eventually a gust tosses her under the covered porch and whips her back out into the crepe myrtle limbs. She disappears a moment, and as I hear her clicking chatter resume she circles the feeder triumphantly, resuming her natural duty – survival.

Neither the gathering clouds, nor rain, nor rumbling thunder gave these tiny troopers pause in their itinerary. I, on the other hand, pretty much close up shop; at least head for the cover of a porch. And if lightening joins the fun, I am done. Inside, checking with Alexa for the latest storm warning, and lighting a candle, I nearly forget any purpose I had for the day. With a fresh cup of hot coffee, I stand at the window and observe the way of nature.

In my observation, I remember the One who created the birds of the air; the One who sent rain over Noah’s ark; the One who calmed the storm. With one breath, one word, one touch of His hand, all creation – even the wind and the waves obey Him. “And they feared exceedingly, and said to one another, ‘who can this be, that even the wind and sea obey Him?’ ” (Mark 4:41)

I allow too many clouds to overshadow my joy. This is not good. If I hide from the storms and run from the rain, I miss the beauty of knowing I am already in good hands and receiving the peace this brings. Leaning into the storm, I find the One, Jesus my Savior, who already has command of my life. “For He commands and raises the stormy wind, which lifts up the waves of the sea.” (Psalms 107:25)

Lovely little hummingbird, I learn from you. God provides; I must not fear. “For He satisfies the longing soul, and fills the hungry soul with goodness.” (Psalms 107:9) My survival in this stormy world of chaos, and the darkness that persists in a world who has rejected God’s way, depends on the sustaining nectar of God’s Word. Go ahead storms, toss me around like lady hummingbird, and I will be directed back to His way by the breath of His word.

Home Sweet Home

19 Sunday Nov 2023

Posted by in Celebrating, Life

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

No matter how far or near I travel, even for a few days, I grow more appreciative of home. As I reminisce about a recent trip, and watch our cotton candy sky give way to dusk, I feel there really is no place like home.

I was thinking about the comparisons we make, which can be bad, stealing our joy; or good, increasing our appreciation for things. How was this place compared to that? How is home compared to there? How is our traveling compared to thirty years ago? (!) Having some bit of trouble re-acclimating myself to being home, I kept going outside for fresh air and just to look around and appreciate being home. My head felt “fuzzy” which could have been due to four days of driving the up, down and round and round path from Smokey Mountains to Asheville NC and back. It could as well be from riding with the country boy who found the reins and permission to go home. With ears pinned back and the scent of the stables, this steed was not looking back! I do believe he drove it like a rental!

Our early fiftieth anniversary celebration trip was splendid in many ways, but home cannot be overrated! I brought home touching memories, funny memories, and well, just memories (maybe best left unpacked). But from our front door, we found comfort and beauty like nowhere else. Not because it’s spectacular; no, that was the Biltmore Estate. Not because it is luxuriously accommodating; no, that was the Inn on Biltmore. Simply because it is ours. If there is any comparison to be done, it is only to say, it is better, because it suits us just fine. I found our beautiful Burning Bush hailing from the lawn and Brandywine Maple leaves raining from tree to ground. Our red leaves are no brighter, but no less striking, than those of other areas. But these leaves are here; our leaves. That makes them more appreciated; no prettier, just more appreciated. The drizzle of rain here is nothing spectacular, but so welcome! While in North Carolina, we experienced their severe draught, with disappointment at seeing very little autumn color. Other than a splash here and there of dull yellow, there was a brilliant red oak, common name Scarlet oak. They rather enjoy the dry conditions and were strutting their stuff! Compared to expectations, the lack of color could be a letdown. But compared to the rest of the landscape, those oaks were outstanding! And more appreciated than ever. Otherwise, leaves clung to trees drained of color, and not all the brown fields were due to harvest. A cloud of dust followed a John Deere combine as the soybean crop was being harvested on the Biltmore Estate. Rows of sunflowers surrounding the soybeans hung their big brown faces toward the ground, gasping for a break from heat and dust.

Travel itself can be a larger issue than the destination, so it helps to keep our eyes on the goal. We plan the route and reservations, pack the necessities, and prepare with small GPS screens and chargers, which once was a paper atlas, at least 10 by 14 inches in size. It’s the unknowns that must be dealt with as they arise. Detours; must I say more? To avoid backed up traffic our GPS took us off I65, and onto the ‘scenic’ route. I still feel dizzy just thinking about it. While we slowed down to a new speed limit, there was no stalled traffic and we had opportunity to really see that part of the foothills. On life’s journey, try a detour; even if a forced one. With a different pace you may experience some amazing stuff. Assuredly, if we let God plan the route and we pack according to His instruction, we’ll be prepared for those unknowns – as much as is possible.

Whether the journey goes as planned, or has sudden rounds of ‘what?’, all roads eventually lead home. Our son’s first book he learned to read was called “Home Is Best” which as a toddler, he ‘read’ from memory of hearing it read to him. It began, “East, west, home is best. Sometimes home’s a hanging nest.” It went through many animals and the different kinds of homes they have. Each one is the best. Because it is theirs. Make your home what it needs to be for you and your loved ones’ comfort. Protect it, cherish it, and make it the safe haven from which all can go out and appreciate the world at arms length, and then love coming home.

Likewise, life’s journey has beautiful rewards, as well as its ups and downs. The goal should be getting back home; the eternal home that God has waiting for us. Life can be a fun trip, or the travel may be difficult, but oh, won’t it be great to get home! In Ecclesiastes 12:5, we are reminded, “for man goes to his eternal home, and the mourners go about the streets.” Thinking about the difference age has made in actual road trips, the difficulty of it and adjustments to be made, I realize reluctance to see the vacation end is a thing of the past. We are so ready to get home. Similarly, aging does a miraculous thing about this life thing – we may not cling to it as we did in our youth. The more we roam, the more Heaven is our home.

I try not to get too wrapped up in the trip and keep my eyes on home. Jesus has prepared it (John 14:2), protected it for our homecoming, has forwarded the route details to us in His holy word, and I genuinely believe His presence there will make the trip worthwhile. Trisha

“For we know that if our earthy house, this tent, is destroyed we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” II Corinthians 5:1

Thunder-struck

31 Friday Mar 2023

Posted by in Nature, Reflections

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, ,

Being wakened by a clap of thunder and a streak of lightening, before the alarm sounded, was a sweet and salty mixture this morning. Salty as a coarse eye opener, and sweet as the heavy rain lulled me back to a cozy sleep.

When we awoke for real about an hour later, my husband recalled how storms for him, had morphed through his life from a threatening monster into an actual sleep inducer. My thoughts, however, had hopped on a different train. One specific clap of thunder stands out in my mind above all others. It happened on the day of my mother’s passing from this life. And it was no sleep inducer!

A day in June dawned clear and warm, as most others had, with one exception; my mother was gone. Following all the usual information exchange with hospital personnel, we were drawn back to the house I had seen her leave for the last time, several days before. I ran through the front room and hallway into her bedroom crying her name and as I reached her bed, I begged, “Oh God, please let me hear her voice just one more time. Please, let me hear her voice!” As I gained composure and moved into other rooms, I saw that my sister had arrived and we stood together at the glass door, gazing through memories into her sunroom and backyard. A booming thunder came out of nowhere, surprising us so much that we could only stare open-mouthed at each other and feel the hair stand on our necks; thunder-struck! You make what you will of it; but she and I know what we know.

I’ve always believed God answers prayer; otherwise I wouldn’t pray, I suppose. So, two sides to this coin since that day; was the thunder we heard on a clear day with no rain, wind nor clouds, the answer to my prayer? Did we hear from our mother one last time? Or, on the other hand, was God reminding me that He is all I need to hear? “Do not be concerned for your mother, child. She is with me and you need to take care of the life I have given you until you, too, may enjoy the rest she has found.” Actually now that I’ve said it, I realize the two are the same. I absolutely know my mother would want the Father to tell me those exact words, and if it is in His divine plan to allow the departed a request, she would most certainly call out to her children. And If you knew my mother, you know her calling would be thunderous! Her by-word was, no kidding, “thunder!”

I once thought growing older would make me more skeptical, but I am not nearly the skeptic I was in my younger days. This is not the first time God has spoken through nature, and my friends, it won’t be the last either. From the birds who sing their creator’s praise to the seeds erupting with life in springtime, the Lord speaks of His amazing grace and favor.

Some things I know for sure. It was already said in His word, that in Him we will find rest and peace, and the soul never dies. It is also said in scripture that God hears prayer. Also I know one day I will get to hear Christ call my name, as Mary did standing at His empty tomb. And you know, if we get to recognize each other, I’m going to ask, “Mama, you know that clap of thunder, back on June 17, well, …?”

“This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.” (I John 5:14 NIV)

Then I heard a voice from heaven saying to me, “Write: ‘Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.’ ” “Yes,” says the Spirit, “that they may rest from their labors, and their works follow them.”(Revelation 14:13 NKJV)