Tag Archives: truth

A Cup O’ Grace

19 Wednesday Feb 2020

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…not with fleshly wisdom but by the grace of God…

It is hard to find the beginning in a story of grace because one good thing done was preceded by another and another before it, and so on. Today I had opportunity to extend a cup of grace, though a very small one. Lest you think I am about to boast in myself, I’ll assure you I am not. It seems that for every time I remember to be gracious, there are several other hands of grace from whom I’ve been fed.

My husband stays away from coffee like it was leprosy and has for about forty years since he got so sick over a thermos of it. Fatigue, too much coffee and the smells inside the plant got to him and you do not want to hear the rest of that story. He was working a night shift in addition to his farming in order for me to be a stay-at-home momma. I guess that’s the beginning of this chain of grace. Fast forward to present day, he makes sure I get a loaded coffee card each Christmas, to drink all the coffee I want in spite of his hatred for the stuff; grace cup number two. Today I visited a local coffee shop to redeem my free cup-of-your-choice reward. A medium hot macchiato with unsweet vanilla please. “I’ll have that right out for you,” the employee said.  A couple of pretty young girls were waited on after my order was taken; two or three cars were served through the to-go window; still no macchiato. My husband saw how busy they were and commented that they don’t get paid enough, and went to wait for me in the car. Another customer was served, still none for me. I sat with my eyes closed for a bit and let the sun wash over me for calm (cup of grace number three). Finally I just asked, “Have you made that macchiato yet?” Shock, dismay and remorse washed over the poor guy’s face. He apologized humbly and began filling the order. Another barista asked if he could refund my money to which I said, “No, that’s ok, it was free anyway”. He then offered to put another free coffee on my account. For a moment I almost said yes, but then I remembered: many are the times I have been graciously excused and forgiven for some oversight, forgotten obligation, or even an intentional wrong done. I smiled and said, “No, thank you, it’s all right.” I left with a delicious hot beverage and a lift in my step because he had not made excuses, and expressed in his own way that I was valued as a customer, as a person, in a world of excuses and blame games. 

Just yesterday on the other hand, yours truly was served with grace, as I was handing a bitter cup to a phone agent while I simultaneously hammered out an e-mail to their live chat agent. The online floral delivery to an out of town office did not get there by noon after I had paid the extra five bucks for designated delivery time.  I was not ugly, but I stated in an irritated voice, that I was not happy, and the whole purpose of getting the flowers there by, yadda yadda, yadda…you get the idea. Right? After a lengthy wait, (during which time I was mentally formulating a customer satisfaction survey reply, should there be one) the very kind phone agent had arranged to have my extra five dollars refunded, and asked if I wanted to have the flowers delivered to a residence instead, or cancel altogether, or leave any instructions at all for the mistake to be corrected. I changed my mind twice with him, let the live chat agent off the hook, and communicated by text with the intended recipient, all at the same time. Turns out the flowers were delivered, but someone forgot to enter that in the tracking  thing-a-mabob. My daughter had been notified by an efficient receptionist that she had a delivery, but since it missed her, they would be redelivering in two days when she is there. I didn’t even know they could do that! 

Results? God was gracious in answering my prayer for my daughter’s successful conference presentation, with or without flowers. The customer service agent never even sounded slightly ruffled with me. The live chat ended with an apology for my inconvenience. I am five dollars better off. My daughter was just as grateful as if she had received the flowers beforehand – it was the thought that counted. I was lavishly graced.  

As I enjoyed my coffee, I was comparing my minor inconveniences with the countless atrocities God covers  with grace if we will just say, “I am sorry. I have no excuse. I want to make it right.” His grace flows in the blood of Jesus Christ to right our wrongs, cleanse our stains and redirect our wayward steps. There is nothing I can offer God, like a free coffee, to make up for my mistakes; it is He instead, Who keeps offering me redemption. I want to be like Him.

2 Corinthians 1:12 (MSG) Now that the worst is over, we’re pleased we can report that we’ve come out of this with conscience and faith intact, and can face the world – and even more importantly, face you with our heads held high. But it wasn’t by any fancy footwork on our part. It was God who kept us focused on him, uncompromised. (The Message Bible)

2 Corinthians 1:12 (NKJV) For our boasting is this: the testimony of our conscience that we conducted ourselves in the world in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom but by the grace of God, and more abundantly toward you. (NKJV)

Holding Onto Life

24 Sunday Nov 2019

Posted by in Faith, Life

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Attending the funeral of a young(ish) woman today, I was stricken with two things. One, I seem to be attending a lot of funerals lately, so that’s where my writing engine often is fueled.  The second is this. In thinking about how suddenly her sweet life was ended here, and as the preacher said, it is coming to us all whether sudden or not, I thought, wow, the effort most of us put into living is quite backwards. At least, for me it is. The child of God has His promise (He cannot lie and is the author of our salvation) that life after earthly life is perfect if we accept His way – that is, eternal life extended through His Son, Jesus Christ. On the other hand, this earthly existence we call ‘life’ is full of uncertainty day and night; heartache, disappointments, and pain are not really that uncommon, right? Does anyone know for sure what tomorrow will hold? With all the joyful blessings we have here in this life, none of it is guaranteed to be here another day. And yet, we hold onto this life with Everything. We. Have.

I’m not saying this life is unimportant. On the contrary, anything from God is significant and to be cherished. What I am saying is, do I hold so tightly to the uncertain, that I miss the certain? Yes, sadly I do. Spending? Just look at my stuff. Time? Compared to appointments, reading, house work, blah blah blah, time spent with God is terribly little. Prayer? Oh my, how much more I ask for in blessings to my people,  compared to praising Him for my people and everything else He has done already! I’m just trying to put some things into perspective…you can apply it to your own lives however it fits.

The beautiful eternal life of living in the presence of my heavenly Father, my savior Jesus Christ and Holy Spirit, with no, natta, ziltch uncertainties; in perfect peace, forever praises – that is what we push away as hard as we can. What? Yes, we clutch the mortal life with all its difficulties as if that were the only life we have. Trust Him, friend, this life “ain’t all she wrote”! As suggested today, read the writings of John in holy scripture (John, I, II, and III John and Revelation) for a description of the love of God and the forever life He put in our hands.  He knew the devil would make this life as difficult as he could, and He prepared a place where the child of God will escape the uncertainties of this world and live, really LIVE, forever in His grace.

I believe Reta is there in that perfect peace, resting. Hope to see ya there Reta!

 

Is It Worth Keeping?

16 Monday Sep 2019

Posted by in Encouragement, MONDAY MUSINGS

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A friend recently shared on FB this quote: “The easiest way to organize your stuff is to get rid of it.” (Joshua Fields Millburn).  We see it all the time – solutions to manage our stuff – things like “Three easy steps to get organized” or “Turn your trash into treasure” and so on with an array of DIY suggestions. Books, videos, magazines, television shows and best friends make organization look not only easy, but fun and actually desirable! Ha! We (well, most of us) have accumulated ourselves into a hole. We fill closets and garages, attics and basements, cupboards and corners; and then shift it all around again from one to the other. Trunks and totes, bags and boxes hold stuff we just can’t let go. And it robs us of our space to, you know, organize. We need room to breathe, move about in our space without tripping, or having to move out of the house just to find something. I lose stuff so often that it’s gotten to be a joke in our family. They just laugh and remind me that it’ll turn up somewhere. Today I found a couple of old blue canning jars with zinc lids that I thought I’d lost, or more correctly, I’d accused “somebody took/hid/broke/moved” them.  I stopped doing that by the way, after several “lost” items turned up where I had put them. Today it was in the back of the buffet as I reorganized my stoneware storage in preparation for a paint job. Are they really worth keeping if I survived this long without them? I might do well to take inventory throughout my house asking, does this serve a purpose, have I needed it in the last ten years, and would it benefit someone else to give it away?

When I read the neat quote my friend shared, I thought, hey there’s a thought! Get rid of it. But for a sentimental collector of all things ever given to me, it’s not that easy. Sad, right?  However, it did get me to thinking of the ‘stuff’ on the spiritual realm that could be blocking our view of  greater peace, or hindering our walk of faith. Do we collect, so to speak, too many secular notions, worries of life, or perhaps a bin full of grudges. Tons of stuff could squeeze us out of spiritual space to grow and walk freely with God. From old emotional scars, to the latest craze in communications, anything that we aren’t currently using for a good purpose like encouragement for others, or growing in knowledge, has become clutter that needs tossing out. If it cannot be removed, then it can be reorganized (which means lined up properly) and repurposed for use on some level to bring glory to God; and would not supersede the place God desires in our lives.

I am the chiefest of sinners, as Paul put it, in the department of keeping too much stuff. Just as it makes organization difficult on the household level, so does it on the spiritual level. Shuffling and shifting it around does not help; it uses up more time and end result, it’s still there! I’ve spent valuable time looking for things hidden among unused items I thought I might need someday. I have as well, lost non-refundable hours lying awake to solve problems instead of giving them to God;  or time watching mindless television shows, instead of doing what I complain of never having the time to do. (I found it easier to break myself from that than I thought it would be; the quality of programming made it so.) Too much time doing crosswords to have a devotional? Put them in the recycle bin. Too much time on Facebook to read my bible? Shut it down until I learn to limit my time. Slept too late to check on a shut-in? Set an alarm and enjoy a little extra time; sunrises are inspiring! Harboring an old grudge that hinders true fellowship? Forgive and forget. I could go on and on with examples, but you get the idea.

Let’s not try to rearrange or work around the stuff that hinders our spiritual walk; lets just get rid of it. Fill those spaces with what we really need. Paul lists them here:

Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy–meditate on these things. Philippians 4:8 (NKJV)

It Won’t Always Be Summer

01 Sunday Sep 2019

Posted by in Life, Through my window

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As surely as tomorrow follows today, autumn will come. However, the summer seems endless when days are long, long, long; long on high temperatures, storms and jobs that never seem to be done. The nights are so filled with sound and humidity that they feel solid, heavy and packed. It’s tempting to think summer’s lock can’t be picked; that there’s time to relax and get everything accomplished in our own time. I look out at the rain watered lawns and growing soybeans, and see no sign of autumn; step out of the door and the heat confirms it – summer still has a firm grip.

In spite of all that, the calendar still says today is September. We will wake up one morning to a crisp October frost and then the green will disappear. Along with it, the heat and humidity, and the hope of crossing off every single job on our to-do lists for that seemingly endless summer, will be gone. I will not be sorry. It’s been a hoot, Summer, but I do not mind to see you go. I’m tired. I am ready to cede the rest of my to-do list to your future successor. If the Lord wills that we see another summer, I’ll deal with that then.

Today, though, I’m thinking of something else. Being in my autumn of life, I wonder if I handled summer okay. You know, we often treat the summer of life much like the months of summer. Perhaps so overwhelmed with all we want to accomplish in life; with the heat of responsibility; with the growing pains and stormy seasons, we may decide to live it up first, tempted to “eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die”.  Or, we could procrastinate, totally unable to imagine the autumn of life, let alone the winter,  the end. Unfortunately the calendar doesn’t warn us about stages of life as it does about seasons of time. The end of our year can slip up overnight, or it may take thirteen months. Either way, summer will end. With all the real-life reminders lately of the brevity of life, I find myself asking, what is most important?

We’re asked in God’s word, when we die, “then whose will those things be?”(Luke 12:20 NKJV) So, I want to leave things that are valuable to others – the others who will have what I leave. Kind of makes you want to clean out closets, shelves and such doesn’t it? Anyway, I really feel all they want me to leave are good memories for them; the knowledge that I have loved them well; and maybe a few dollars (well, be honest, it would be nice).  I want to leave all that and this – a faith rooted so deeply in the truth that it will never waver as they hold it and examine it, the way we open a letter from someone who has passed from us;  a faith that points to Jesus Christ, guiding them every day of their lives. I want to leave a love for God so big that they are led to get in, deeper, and find there the eternal life that God left us; that is, a life that leads toward an eternity where summer is perfect – as fresh as spring, as fulfilling as a bountiful autumn harvest and yet it is always summer- and where winter never comes.

‘Make hay while the sun shines’. ‘Don’t put off for tomorrow what you can do today.’ Those old sayings are steeped in truth. The words of Jesus: “And behold, I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me, to give to every one according to his work.” (Revelation 22:12)

WHEN FAITH GETS SHAKY: Keep Praying, Keep Climbing.

22 Monday Jul 2019

Posted by in Faith, Prayer Life

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I have struggled today with matters of faith, prayer and promises. I didn’t know how to word my questions, so no matter how much I wanted to write, all I could say was “I can’t even…” and when I tried to pray I cried and felt like an ungrateful child, or at best, a distant relative. Throughout the day, I’ve studied God’s word with intermittent prayer and at last have, with God’s guidance, found my footing in that jagged mountainside of faith. “…nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day.” (II Timothy 1:12)

If you have never questioned God’s promises – well, not so much God, but our understanding of the promises – if you’ve never felt your faith quiver somewhat, then I applaud you in your stoic faith. Though I have met some disappointments without questioning God even one little bit, that is not always the case.  There have come times of heartache brought about by no one’s wrong doing; hope that’s dashed and severe suffering by good people. We see it everyday. We pray, we see answers and blessings, we praise God, knowing His goodness and mercy have followed us. Or, we pray, we wait hopefully, believing God’s will is best and plan to give all glory to Him, whatever the answers are. Or, we pray, we watch bad turn to worse, we hope and pray more, and continue to see what to our human sight, is unanswered prayer. Wrong. None of these is the true purpose of prayer. It’s not about the answers. I know this. I just get so caught up in taking it all to the Lord, that I veer off course on a path of thinking He owes me answers. How wrong this is!

I read somewhere that the true purpose of prayer is to draw closer to God, not to seek answers. I believe scripture supports that; even though the Lord said “seek and you shall find, ask and it shall be given, knock and it shall be opened to you”. So I ask myself, am I seeking, asking and knocking for the wrong things? His answers are already given us in His Word – both the written word as well as His Word that became flesh and dwelt among us. He knows suffering. He knows disappointment. He knows prayer beyond human limits, to the point of sweating like great drops of blood. (Luke 22:44)

What has my heart burdened today is not for myself, but for friends who so far have not seen the answers that they and our community have sought for months. Still we pray, knowing that with God all things are possible (Matthew 19:26).  Every time I look at the newspaper, or listen to the news, there are reports of more suffering children; neglect, abuse, tragedy, and I want to throw something and scream. Still I pray. I pray with the knowledge that whatever circumstances any of us endure, we are already given everything we need. The rest, beyond Christ as our Savior, is icing on the cake. My heart aches that some of those sweetest blessings are subjected to pain and suffering, that beautiful young life is interrupted for tedious tests and treatments; that dreams dissolve into emesis basins and medications. Cancer is so cruel. But, focus, I tell myself; eyes on the Lord, not on the problem. Look higher, seek a life of walking with the only one who knows completely what we are going through. He has weathered every storm long before us; He gave up every comfort, even to death, so that when life such as it is, forces evil upon us, He can carry us through. Jesus knows. Jesus cares. Jesus has provided the peace that passes all understanding. Jesus is Lord – on the mountain and in the valley – and has prepared the end of our story to be victorious. Whether the story lasts a few months, 18 years, 90 years or more, ours is but a breath and then there is eternal life. Victorious, perfect, eternal praise to the One Who gave us everything good; and ultimately destroys all that threatens good.

These questions have been mauled by the philosophies of people on all sides of the issues, and this simple country girl has no original idea, nor even a good idea to help us get through life’s storms. Here is what I do know: no force of earth nor space could ever have given me the blessings I’ve enjoyed, except the fiercely loving, all knowing God I serve. He did not cause bad things to happen, and if He always only allowed us to have everything we ask, where would be the hope of Heaven? If all was good, uninterrupted smooth sailing, who would need the lighthouse? It’s all about preparing our lives to depend on Him, to look forward to being with Him, and to give Him all praise for what He has done for us. Life is grand, and grander still, God holds my hand and always will.

I mentioned earlier a ‘jagged mountainside of faith’. I look forward to the completion of my faith, when I reach the top of that mountain. As long as I am here though, on the mountainside, there will be falling rock, stumbling stones, and holes to overcome because this is life – human style. I believe we can only reach the top by holding hands, (we have two) one with God and the other helping another. When our faith is complete in Christ, our journey done, we will look back at all He has brought us through; to new life –  heaven style. I still have questions; even in the autumn of life my faith is still growing; but I have hope that when we do rest atop that mountain, the view will be worth it all.

If you’ve stayed with me to this point, thank you for hearing my heart. I truly want to hear from yours too, in how you reconcile verses such as “faith will save the sick” in James 5, with the knowledge that some are not healed. How do you wrestle with life questions without bruising your faith or that of others? Remind me of Job, “In all this Job did not sin nor charge God with wrong.” (Job 1:22)  Have a good week. Trisha

Uprooting the Beauty With the Beast

03 Monday Jun 2019

Posted by in Life, MONDAY MUSINGS, Uncategorized

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Today’s Monday Musings is a look inward where I find I may, as they say, not see the forest for the trees; throw out the baby with the bath water, and so on. You’ll find my actual gardening addiction may parallel some plane of your life where the busy-ness suffocates the beauty. Dig in 🙂

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Wild violets – disguised in their dainty blooms.

I know it’s true, I’m a hypocrite; a two timer and a shell of a housewife. I’ve backslid into the wayward life of a ground grubbing, weed wrenching maniac. Just last year I wrote and spoke on the topic of letting go; releasing the weights that pull us away from embracing new seasons. I’ve said that we must let go of what holds us back from celebrating the beauty within each new season, accepting, acknowledging and praising. Oh, I have accepted (that weeds and grass rule my life); I have acknowledged (that it’s up to me to get them); and I have…uh, prais…no, it’s time to come clean, cleaner than my fingernails. My praising in the garden was beautiful that first round of dew laden blooms, before the devil woke up the nutsedge, the bermuda grass, and the wild violets. I am a compulsive gardener; I need help.

How does it happen? I walk through the gardens once a day (a tip from Mama’s cousin for a successful garden). I figured if she did so, and lived nearly 100 years, that’s all the encouragement I need! And the therapeutic effect of evicting those weeds, clearing the ground filth and watching a garden take bloom, or become a dinner plate of delicious is just beyond compare! First an innocent walk-through, and the next thing I know, I’m up to my elbows in dirt, swatting those biting flies, with blurry eyes from the salty sweat; it’s time for dinner with nothing planned, there’s laundry to do and the dust bunnies are playing. Shame. So much shame.

For those of you laughing out the words “mow it down or spray it brown”, go sit with my husband. No thank you, I love my flowers and I hate that dead brown stuff left everywhere that he escaped my guard with his Round-Up wand. So what I end up with is this. I have weeded myself into a corner; a vicious cyclic corner where I have failed to adore the beauty and the Maker of it. I am so enrapt with weeding out the bad, that I haven’t given due respect to the beauty of opening buds and unfurling leaves that are the product of my work and God’s grace. I now ask Him to rescue me, remind me of His far greater purpose for me, and to return me to the communion I had with Him in the midst of His garden.

To apply a grain of wisdom I’ve gleaned, I hope to be able to read the newspaper, listen to the news and observe the unwelcome changes in life with a new eye for the good, the grandeur and splendor of life’s garden, rather than combing the corrupt with a long handled weeder. I want to acknowledge and praise God for the bountiful blessings instead of attacking life with a hoe, and a garden trowel. What is wrong with me? Who cares if my butterfly garden seating area is clean and welcoming, if I have no time to sit and invite others into it. Who cares how clean my rows of Blue Lake bush beans are, if I never pick and share them? Likewise, who will hear about Jesus the great physician, if I haven’t made time to visit the sick? I have weeded out life’s blooms; so focused on the work and blinded to the beauty.

But the summer is young. There is time for reforming. Oh, I’m not saying I will give it up. There is so much beauty in gardening that I cannot leave it as long as there’s breath in me and God gives me the ability. The secret is in balance. Schedules work for other important parts of life; I shall schedule my dates with the dandelions, and be sure to sit a spell mid the bluebirds’ perch at the wheat field’s edge, and inhale the fragrance of the warm moist garden dirt. If I am truly nearer God’s heart in a garden, then I will be using that time to meditate on His word and plan what I might be doing for someone else before the day is gone. When I begin to feel overwhelmed, I will stop and pray for the strength to walk away.

In Jesus’ teaching, as recorded in Matthew, I read that He doesn’t want me to be so aggressive toward the evil deeds that I uproot the good that can be accomplished toward all people.  I think He was teaching us to hate the sin and love the person, and the Father will sort it all out in the end. I know that if I begin to weed or hoe the garden while the young seedlings are too small, it will uproot them too. They would never get a chance to produce fruit.

“He put another parable before them, saying, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a man who sowed good seed in his field,  but while his men were sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and went away.  So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared also. And the servants of the master of the house came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? How then does it have weeds?’  He said to them, ‘An enemy has done this.’ So the servants said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’  But he said, ‘No, lest in gathering the weeds you root up the wheat along with them.” (Matthew 13: 24-29 ESV)

NICE DAY Part 5: Sweet Things

20 Monday May 2019

Posted by in Children

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“Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.” Proverbs 16:24

As we’ve all agreed, children can say and do the cutest things; from embarrassing to enlightening, we never know quite what’s coming next. Their words may not be exactly wise as we think of wisdom from ages of experience, but they are so honest that their words are like sparks off the flame of wisdom. They are often observant of the little details we miss, while we’re looking at the big hurried picture.  And just when we need it most, they wrap a bad day in a nougat filled chocolate shell that we carry in our hearts for days.

My daughter was blessed with a pretty smile, not too big, not at all small like mine, just right. Someone once told her she had a nice big mouth (whatever that meant) to which she bristled and announced, “Uh-uh! My mouff is nittle nike my Mama’s!” (Interpretation: my mouth is little like my…)  Oh my! What a compliment when your beautiful little girl wants to believe she is just like her mother. It was sweet to my soul to know it never bothered her that my mouth wasn’t what society says is the going thing.

As you might guess, Stephanie had a little speech thing going on until first grade. You’ve no doubt heard that children learn what they live, so we never made fun of her speech, but instead found it rather charming and she learned acceptance in the world rather than bitterness. Her world was made up of a big brother, parents, and boy cousins. It was rare that she had girls to play with until school days, so the thought of getting to go where there might be girl peers was exciting for her. Before online shopping, Stanley and Tupperware parties were a common thing, especially for young moms who hadn’t already accumulated fifteen of everything. One evening as I prepared to attend a Stanley (or some product) party, I offered as I always did to take her with me, or would she rather stay home. Her sweet answer said she was thinking “what’s in it for me?” but was it cookies? No. Nor was it cake or punch. It wasn’t the games she had observed either. And, she’d probably had enough of Mommy for the day. Her question was “Will dem be any nittle gills dare Mama?” (Will there be any little girls there?) Companionship with peers is what she wanted. I told her I really couldn’t say, to which she replied, “OK, I wanna go with you anyway”.  People obviously mattered most to her, even if it was just her Mama. I suppose if I’d been looking closely, really seeing, I could have predicted that she would be in public relations as a career. I think it would be a nicer world if we grownups looked at every opportunity through the eyes of friendship more than materialism.

One more little Stephanie moment: a moment of calling her daddy out on a technicality. Somehow, he managed to take us out for a restaurant meal about every two weeks, and his favorite was fish. Our little girl always filled up quickly and felt the need to stretch out, so it wasn’t unusual to see her lying across my lap and her chair while we finished our meal. But sometimes she had to wait until we were home and stretch out across her daddy in the recliner. One such recliner evening followed a nice pizza meal, but daddy’s full tummy denied her stretch across his lap. Out of habit, his response was, “Honey, daddy’s full of fish”, to which she cried, “But daddy! We had pizza!” She intended to keep him honest, if nothing else, as if that nulled his excuse. Technicalities!

Another little sweetie pie around five years ago, was chattering to her baby doll and following me around the house. At age three or four, she was oblivious to my quickly changing clothes. All at once she looked up mid sentence and gasped, “Aunt Trisha! You have on pretty panties!” I think she never expected anyone but little girls to have pretty designs on their undies. She went right back to playing without missing a beat, and as I said “Thanks”,  I thought how much more observant children are than we think; and way more honest than we may want them to be. How many moms have turned red because their word was contradicted by the great knowledge of a four or five

My girl
Aunt Trisha’s sweetie
Little Man Ryan

year old? Their innocence makes their eyes sparkle; their appreciation for small things dresses them in excitement. Their humility makes them say things like “that’s okay” and really mean it if you step on their toes or forget a promised bowl of frozen blueberries. They love everybody, without prejudice. Thank you God.

My final ‘sweet thing’ memory for this post is of the only young man who has ever asked me to dance. Talk about no prejudice, who but a four year old would ask a much taller girl going gray, without makeup, in old play clothes, to dance? I have (a gift from my husband many years ago) a crank up RCA Victrola which plays the old 78 records and the volume is controlled by how open or closed the doors of the cabinet are. As a toddler, Ryan was fascinated by the crank handle. After learning that some fun music from the 30’s could be heard, he would ask me to play it for him. My reward one day, for obliging him was the sweetest, as he opened the Victrola doors wide, held out his hand and said, “wanna dance?” We waltzed around my living room to “How Do You Talk to an Angel”  in a cloud of happy. Years later at a wedding reception, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and a much taller pre-teen Ryan asked me again, though more shyly, “do you want to dance”? My heart soared around the room even though the music stopped by the time we’d barely begun to dance. Consideration for an old friend cannot be overrated!

Friends, if we want to sweeten the souls and bring new life to old bones, just speak sweetly, and honestly. Consideration, compliments, and kindness go a long long way!

 

NICE DAY, Part 4: Angry Words Do Not Make Nice Days!

06 Monday May 2019

Posted by in Children, MONDAY MUSINGS, Reflections

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I think the first child’s antics are more surprising because young parents have no idea! No. Idea. At that stage, we haven’t even counted as high as the number of emotions, trials, and tests we’re about to encounter. Everything your first baby says and does is amazing and funny because, hey, you haven’t heard it before. And no matter how many others do the same things, you still laugh, because it really is funny! I never get tired of remembering ours, and hearing about others’ memories as well. While remembering the cute things kids have done and said is heart warming and good, I wonder if I am the only one who may once in a while, find those memories followed by an unpleasantness that doesn’t belong there. I’ll explain later.

Our son was our first born, surprising us one evening with an early labor, in breech position, arriving at 9:20 PM. He has been a late nighter ever since, and a late riser as well, so the sun was always up before he was. Even still, the bed and breakfast were about all he wanted of the house. As soon as he was tall enough to see out the window, he checked the weather first, and then would report to me, “It’s a shine-shiny day out, Mama!” Interpretation: I want to go outside. See, what this kid knew was that the indirect approach worked so much better that the direct. A bedtime fighter, he found any excuse he could to resist bedtime routine. I had to pin him to the floor to brush his teeth, while he sputtered, “But my lips are reflexive!”, followed by “I wanna watch Gonny Cawson (Johnny Carson)! As if! When he wanted to go fishing a few years later,  rather than beg to go, he tied a construction paper fish to a stick and held it out the door as I was coming inside. Written on it was “I got an itchin’ to go fishin’!” Sly little dude. Next came fifth grade, with Mrs. Pittman’s rule of  ‘no locker opens after class starts’…did I mention he procrastinated other things as well as bedtime? To see Dora Pittman tell this is quite funny, as she slides one arm slowly back, leaning ever so slyly toward an imaginary locker to retrieve a book that should have been out of there before the bell rang! Some 30 years later, she still calls him her ‘locker boy’.

Yes, memories are fun…but sometimes it gets painful. There’s a little black-caped masked demon about an inch tall that occasionally comes slinking into the picture of a good memory, and it’s name is Regret. I hate that imp! He messes with my mind, and if I give him any attention, he starts growing until he is bigger than the picture. That’s the unpleasantness I was referring to earlier. I’m guessing there is a trigger for almost anyone to be reminded of their failures, for we all have some sort of regrets I’ve been told. For me, the trigger is remembering my kids’ childhood which makes me ask, why is such an awesome responsibility placed into the hands of the inexperienced?? Now, I know most of you were nauseatingly good, patient, creative parents; I mistakenly thought I was at the time. Let me just cut through the chase and bare my blisters: CHILDREN WERE NOT MADE TO BE YELLED AT. There. That is my regret. I grasped at the details and missed the big beautiful picture. Math problems, tooth brushing and choosing which toy to take, should never be a source of pain or anxiety. These everyday life things can create havoc, or heaven. The things that we think must be done should never override patience and gentleness. I was given the most precious gifts on earth, and I let them and the Giver down when I lost control and yelled. Mamas and Daddies, no one else would tolerate our ill tempered yelling, so why dish it out on the very ones who love and trust us to be their Rock? Seriously, they need more good memories, not more math; calm evenings more than clean teeth; and the time it took to choose which truck to take with him could have been spent planning supper, or tickling him into a decision. I wonder how many times he was about to make a choice when I again, called “would you come on now!” Oh how that dastardly bandit Regret can run off with your fun! But, God is good, and has forgiven me. My children say there’s nothing to forgive or forget; they say they had a great childhood. The problem lies within where forgiveness does not come easily for ourselves. I’m working on it, but I still hate those angry words that messed up good days.

“If a person thinks himself to be religious and does not bridle his own tongue, but deceives his own heart, his religion is useless.” (James 1:26)

Lest I leave the impression that I was a total monster, I do have a memory of handling things well. This son of ours has an artist streak in him that was once used on the refrigerator, in crayon. I actually had a roll of film in the Kodak, and it makes a cute photo when a toddler is cleaning the refrigerator in his training pants. I think he was as proud of his job of removing the masterpiece as he was of making it.

cleaning up artwork
sneaking M&Ms

Happy Monday, stay calm, and make it a nice day! Go ahead and sneak a few M&Ms:)

 

 

 

MAKE WHAT YOU WILL OF IT

11 Monday Mar 2019

Posted by in MONDAY MUSINGS

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Happy first Monday of DST! I’m sure many more households had their version of adjustment, and ours was typical of needing to be reminded – again – that it is what you make of it. Yeah, yeah, the facts of an hour darker, and the weather, can be called “it is what it is” but that’s as far as our attitudes have to be dictated. The day, the moment, the situation, whatever you are living, is lived in light of what you make of it. 

I am a light-lover; no, not one who loves lightly, but a lover of light. I was not looking forward to daylight savings time because if the sun ain’t up, neither am I.  Well, not voluntarily anyway.  It actually is my favorite to be up and watch the sunrise – I stress BE up; it takes a grand alarm clock system to do that, but once up and awake I am happiest just about dawn. My first awakening today was a phone call about 20 minutes before my alarm was to sound. Viewing what appeared to be wet outside again sent me back under the covers grumbling about the weather man. I fell asleep and dreamed about the outcome of that day-opening phone call. Next, the old-fashioned clock radio blared a ten minute warning that my cell phone alarm would soon be calling me out. One peeping eye confirmed the dreariness of the day. Back under the covers. As I took the ten minute snooze, a cold little nose in a furry little face told me to stop snoring please, and as I did, he snuggled in between my husband and me, luring me to doze again. When that dogged cell phone commenced its irritating tune that I really need to change, I saw no promise of sun. Clouds, drizzle and dampness outside caused a Monday malfunction – I went back to sleep. Another phone call brought me to my senses and I faced the day, about an hour late.

As sluggishly as my day approached the starting line, it is pacing itself pretty well and I hope yours is too. I found a few markers along the route to point out how to make more of the race. Those would be prayer for hope; scripture for direction,  and love for endurance. That first phone call – one requesting prayer for her day; my sweet daughter was concerned about some who were about to lose their jobs today, and she asked my prayer for their sakes. And I thought, yes, how wonderful that we have an intercessor to take all our concerns to God Who sustains us not only in hope for eternal life, but in our day-to-day matters. That sweet Holy Spirit! He comforts us and understands our groaning from dawn to dawn, all day long, never leaving, no matter how many clouds overshadow the way. “Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.” (Romans 8:26 NKJV)

Next came the morning walk with that fur faced alarm. Chilly air on my face and bird melodies in my ears, made it good to be alive. Once he had communicated with the world, you know the sniffing input and the output which should be self-explanatory, we happily returned to a warm house and hot cup of coffee. Ain’t life good?

Scripture – a big part of my writing – came into play as I sat down to work toward a deadline for an article submission. Reading again those steadfast promises lifted my mood and attitude like sunshine themselves. The fog was clearly lifted!

That last phone call was from my sister. Bless her heart! May I say again, Bless Her Heart! Still wearing a back brace, she needed help to take a rectal temp on her 19 pound grandbaby; (maybe a little moral support?) and later finding 3 out of 4 grandchildren have influenza A, and the fourth with a stomach ache – well the whole family really needs blessing, right? And I counted my blessings at that moment! Only love – L. O. V. E. – took me into the house with my flu vaccine already four and a half months old. Get it? (I hope we don’t.) By the way, the sight of that sweet baby boy melted my heart. Even sick, they are so worth it all!

Arriving back home and greeted by my fur baby spinning in circles, I knew it was a good day. I am alive. With loved ones. A modern washer and running water. With hope, and scripture, and love. And the sun came out! OK, I tried to have a bad day, really I did, but God just kept pushing all that good stuff under my nose, and here I’ve gone and had a good day after all. Key words (I have emphasized) for making it a great day are in the following verses.

17 God also bound himself with an oath, so that those who received the promise could be perfectly sure that he would never change his mind.
18 So God has given both his promise and his oath. These two things are unchangeable because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us.
19 This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary. (Hebrews 6 NLT)

Variety: Love it or Hate it

03 Sunday Feb 2019

Posted by in Life, Nature

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February afternoon

Sunday, Feb. 3, 2019

There are clearly some advantages to our Western Kentucky weather. Today is a prime example. While we hate the ever-changing never-know-what-you’ll-get weather patterns, it’s when we get a bright, warm, taste of spring like today that makes me grateful for the changes. I also relish occasional snow days when the whole world looks pure and clean and the only choices I have to make for the day is which flavor of coffee do I want to make. Variety really is the spice of life.

I also enjoy variety when it comes to writers’ thoughts, though not too wide a variety, as I’m a more conservative thinker. But no matter how you think, if you put effort into your own sharing,  you will enjoy the penned thoughts of others that are different. One such writing form that is different, but one that I can truly identify with, is Adventures of a Labor Nurse. Warning: it is not for the faint of heart. She puts it all out there, and if you haven’t looked into the face of the smelly, bloody miracle of birth before,  then you might tread lightly going there. I love it!

Foods! What can I say that wouldn’t take volumes of cyber space to even begin to do justice to the rich cuisine we enjoy every single day. I’m even talking about the beans and tater meals – I mean how many varieties of beans and potatoes and methods to prepare them are there? See what I mean? We have all benefitted from our cultural stew pots.

As nice as the spice is, there is Life beyond change, with more important things than blogging, coffee and food. I am completely ‘fall on my knees’ grateful that the Lord God is faithful to stay the same. No variation there! His way, His love, His opportunities, His grace, all of it, every part of Him is forever the same. That’s because it’s already perfect. Nothing is needed besides it and nothing is complete without it.

 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

“Barnes’ Notes on the Bible” enriches the phrase ‘no variation or shadow of turning’ penned by James. Because God is the Father of lights, James wanted to be sure we understand that God the Light, is different from the sun, our light, this way:  whereas the sun changes every day, causing all sorts of variations in climate, weather, shadows and so forth, with God there is none of that!  Barnes notes “the word which is here rendered “variableness” … occurs nowhere else in the New Testament. It means change, alteration…and would properly be applied to the changes …in astronomy.”  James knew his science from the master!

So, no matter how our lives change we can be absolutely sure that the One who created all this beautiful (and sometimes not so pretty) variety, is holding it all together; steady, unmovable, eternal in all His purpose and plan. Variety is the spice; God is the Life.

Eternally His, Trisha

Sundial

About 3:15 Sundial time