The battle began as any other , the circumstances perhaps different, yet the outcome much the same. I put out one arm for covering and used the other for the offensive attack. My body contorted as need be to help in this quest, yet no matter my efforts, outside help had to intervene. A hand reached out and pulled my coat on for my behalf! I should know, if I can not even get my coat on without a struggle, life in general is certainly not going to be a cake-walk. I have been thinking upon the word “struggle,” the past few days, and wondering if life really has to be this hard - this much of a conflict? Am I living in such a way, as to encourage the scrambling and fighting that seems to come to many of my days?
The definition of struggling does indicate some positives to doing it…”make great efforts with the body, try hard; work hard against difficulties.” These things are listed first in the dictionary and bring to mind that working hard brings a positive end many times. If you are coaching an athlete, you’d definitely want them to “make a great effort” in their sport. We certainly don’t want anyone to give up or be a quitter! At the bottom of the list we get more into the definitions that come to mind when we are in a struggle…”fighting, conflict, strive, labor, toil, cope.” These shed a more negative light on the effort we’re suppose to make. I have a website that I use for finding rhymes, synonyms, and antonyms, called rhymezone.com. In an attempt to find the opposite of struggling, I went to Rhymezone, and alas - there is none. I was hoping for at least an “un” on the beginning…so I could unstruggle.
The month of December is a time of struggling for me, and we are about to disembark again. Sometimes the conflict within our lives is not physical, not tangible - it may just be a little piece of shrapnel left in our hearts. There are struggles from the past that have left us wounded, but to the naked eye, these wounds are not detectable. We may not notice them ourselves, much like an old war wound that only aches when the weather changes. The storm coming, that makes me ache some, is called Christmas. I realize this is rather transparent of me, so I hope you don’t mind if “my eight layers are showing.” (Mini-wheat commercial)
Many years ago my family lived through a terrible storm that left us wounded. We struggled, “made great effort, worked hard against difficulties” and came out the other side. We did not come out unscathed, unhurt, or even fully in one piece. Whether that storm was a hurricane, tornado, or just a good rain, doesn’t really matter. We came through it, our wounds healed over and we have rebuilt. The fact that it hit during the Christmas season however, has left a scar that weeps a bit every year. Many of you may have lost a loved one around a holiday, or birthday, or other significant moments. You know the mixed emotions those marked occasions bring. In the midst of the joy and smiles, there is a twinge of pain as well.
Easter, Mother’s Day, the 4th of July and Thanksgiving, pass by without a twinge. Then it happens, I hear Christmas music! It is the barometer which reads my life’s weather pattern and I begin to ache. I went from “unstruggling” to struggling in less than a second and have been blue ever since. Now I realize that logically this makes no sense whatsoever, and I should just buck-up, get over it, move on, and just STOP IT! I can’t seem to get my logical mind, to override my fickle heart. Obviously, a little piece of shrapnel is left from that battle long ago. It healed over, but Christmas is here once again and my war wound is letting me know it.
If you are human, like me, and need a good surgeon for the shrapnel in your own life, I can refer you! His name is Jesus. He is the Great Healer! His love and God’s word tend to my wounds as no one else can. We should not attempt to treat ourselves for such struggles, as that would most likely lead to infection and possible loss of life. Most prescriptions are hard to decipher - the doctor’s hand writing atrocious! I am thankful that the Great Healer’s writing is so legible! “This is why we work hard and continue to struggle for our hope is in the living God, who is the Savior of all people and particularly of all believers.”
1 Timothy 4:10 NLT
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Hope
I'm cheating just a bit today, as I recover from our week of vacation. In my weariness, and getting a late start to my Monday - I want to just share a poem I wrote a while back. It was written for a friend, during a difficult time and I believe it's valid every day, for every person. I pray it brings you some peace and hope today.
God is not the God of chaos
He is the Prince of Peace;
He’s always just a prayer away,
In His arms, our fears can cease.
Fears do not just float away,
Or magically disappear;
They must consciously be given up,
Placed on an alter, and forever left there.
If we let go and give our fears to God,
Flowing upward on a wing and prayer;
He takes them all, and with a smile,
Turns them to blessings for all to share.
Through our willing transparency,
God turns our sharing into strength;
How precious true friends become,
In good or bad, circumstance or length.
With God in the lead, nothing is wasted,
Whether tears, frustration or celebration;
When shared with others here on earth,
The tears and smiles build a strong foundation.
If I could tell you just one thing,
To help you sleep, and forever be grateful;
I would remind you of a promised hope,
“For He who promised is faithful!”
Hebrews 10:23...
”Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.”
God is not the God of chaos
He is the Prince of Peace;
He’s always just a prayer away,
In His arms, our fears can cease.
Fears do not just float away,
Or magically disappear;
They must consciously be given up,
Placed on an alter, and forever left there.
If we let go and give our fears to God,
Flowing upward on a wing and prayer;
He takes them all, and with a smile,
Turns them to blessings for all to share.
Through our willing transparency,
God turns our sharing into strength;
How precious true friends become,
In good or bad, circumstance or length.
With God in the lead, nothing is wasted,
Whether tears, frustration or celebration;
When shared with others here on earth,
The tears and smiles build a strong foundation.
If I could tell you just one thing,
To help you sleep, and forever be grateful;
I would remind you of a promised hope,
“For He who promised is faithful!”
Hebrews 10:23...
”Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.”
Friday, November 26, 2010
Can you hear me now?
I can remember driving from point A to point B in the Northwest, and not having a signal on my cell phone. My car would have more supplies than I needed - ‘just in case,’ because I might have a flat, or some other emergency in a spot where the cell phone wouldn’t help me out. I also remember when we had no cell phones - but can not for the life of me, remember how I survived! I go no where without mine, and even check my email with it! My laptop computer also rarely leaves my side, and when I end up somewhere that doesn’t have a wireless signal, I am completely bummed out! I am ‘connected’ almost 24/7, not because I have to - but because I really, really, want to!
I’m still in Washington as I type this. I’m writing from the upstairs bedroom at a family member’s home, and this house is a rare spot! There is no computer and no wireless router! For years I didn’t even bring my computer in from the car when visiting, because I wouldn’t be able to connect. A year ago, I was visiting and used my computer to watch a movie one night…and made a huge - epic level, discovery! Someone nearby had left their wireless signal “unsecured”! I nearly laughed the evil laugh - bwaa ha ha…as I hit “connect to this anyway,” when my computer was trying to warn me of such things. I had a signal - was connected, and it was wonderful! Okay - that’s the dramatic version, but really, it was pretty cool.
Being connected has its pros and its cons of course. I love being able to check my email when I’m away from home, and knowing that my Mom and other family members can reach me with the cell phone at any time. I really enjoy getting on Facebook and feeling connected to my friends and family; seeing what’s happening in their worlds and looking at all the pictures. The downside to being this connected, in some cases, are the same as the pros to it. I am never not connected, and in spite of this, I feel lonely a good deal of the time! The computer and phone can not give me hugs, or hold my hand, or have lunch with me! They should not-can not take the place of being connected in a real, physical way! It is entirely in my control to not be connected through technology - all I have to do is disconnect, hang up, power down, and unplug! There are times when I do this, and while it’s weird and eerily quiet, it’s also pretty nice!
I am wondering - even while I am connected while writing this blog, if all this technology is healthy for my soul? Of course too much of anything, they say, is never good…so of course we have to keep our wireless, cell phone driven lives in check! In the middle of all this glorious connectedness, how well are we connected to God? Do our cell phones and computers and other toy gadgets get in the way of how much time we’ve spent talking to Him? I can honestly say, yes - I am guilty of this! This week of vacation I have spent far more time on the phone, watching movies, eating out and playing games with family (all great things of course), but very little time praying or letting God’s word speak into my life.
The very technology that gives me hours of fun and the ability to stay connected to people…can also suck the life right out of me at times! Not all phone calls or emails are positive, not everyone is calling or writing to say “I love you,“ and not all movies leave me with a warm, fuzzy feeling! I guess the lesson of the day is - hang up once in a while, and connect to something truly life-giving instead of life-sucking! It’s okay to enjoy the new gadgets, and incredibly important to stay connected to each other, but just don’t let it take the place of staying in touch with who gave you life. Balance, as in all things - but this scale should tip toward God’s favor I think.
Philippians 2:16, “Hold firm to the word of life, then, on the day of Christ’s return, I will be proud that I did not run the race in vain and that my work was not useless.” nlt
I’m still in Washington as I type this. I’m writing from the upstairs bedroom at a family member’s home, and this house is a rare spot! There is no computer and no wireless router! For years I didn’t even bring my computer in from the car when visiting, because I wouldn’t be able to connect. A year ago, I was visiting and used my computer to watch a movie one night…and made a huge - epic level, discovery! Someone nearby had left their wireless signal “unsecured”! I nearly laughed the evil laugh - bwaa ha ha…as I hit “connect to this anyway,” when my computer was trying to warn me of such things. I had a signal - was connected, and it was wonderful! Okay - that’s the dramatic version, but really, it was pretty cool.
Being connected has its pros and its cons of course. I love being able to check my email when I’m away from home, and knowing that my Mom and other family members can reach me with the cell phone at any time. I really enjoy getting on Facebook and feeling connected to my friends and family; seeing what’s happening in their worlds and looking at all the pictures. The downside to being this connected, in some cases, are the same as the pros to it. I am never not connected, and in spite of this, I feel lonely a good deal of the time! The computer and phone can not give me hugs, or hold my hand, or have lunch with me! They should not-can not take the place of being connected in a real, physical way! It is entirely in my control to not be connected through technology - all I have to do is disconnect, hang up, power down, and unplug! There are times when I do this, and while it’s weird and eerily quiet, it’s also pretty nice!
I am wondering - even while I am connected while writing this blog, if all this technology is healthy for my soul? Of course too much of anything, they say, is never good…so of course we have to keep our wireless, cell phone driven lives in check! In the middle of all this glorious connectedness, how well are we connected to God? Do our cell phones and computers and other toy gadgets get in the way of how much time we’ve spent talking to Him? I can honestly say, yes - I am guilty of this! This week of vacation I have spent far more time on the phone, watching movies, eating out and playing games with family (all great things of course), but very little time praying or letting God’s word speak into my life.
The very technology that gives me hours of fun and the ability to stay connected to people…can also suck the life right out of me at times! Not all phone calls or emails are positive, not everyone is calling or writing to say “I love you,“ and not all movies leave me with a warm, fuzzy feeling! I guess the lesson of the day is - hang up once in a while, and connect to something truly life-giving instead of life-sucking! It’s okay to enjoy the new gadgets, and incredibly important to stay connected to each other, but just don’t let it take the place of staying in touch with who gave you life. Balance, as in all things - but this scale should tip toward God’s favor I think.
Philippians 2:16, “Hold firm to the word of life, then, on the day of Christ’s return, I will be proud that I did not run the race in vain and that my work was not useless.” nlt
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Beacon, with Bacon Please!
I am sitting in a hotel in downtown Seattle, in the midst of the worst artic storm they’ve seen in years. Dale and I left the Portland area yesterday at 9am, stopped to visit a friend in the SeaTac area for a few hours, and then at 8pm last night, we had only made it to the downtown Seattle area. I had need of a bathroom for those last 3 hours in the car, we hadn’t eaten much all day, and we had only gone maybe 10 miles in almost 4 hours! It was miserable, terrifying and most agonizing! Dale of course was calm, and patient - but the fact that I was struggling so much made him feel miserable too. I finally reached my breaking point after inching our way through a long tunnel, packed in there with hundreds of other cars and huge semi trucks….because I am claustrophobic. It’s not something that comes up all that often, but when it does - I’m done, call the paddy wagon!
Dale took the only exit we could and I prayed the whole way, as everything in Seattle is on a hill, and the ice and snow could make this a fast sleigh ride down to the Sound. I started praying that God would lead us to a place to eat and a hotel close by and definitely not down the hill. We turned one corner and went a few blocks and there, just to our left, was a beacon of hope! Strange that it was in the form of a Subway sandwich shop, but there it was anyway and who was I to question God’s reasoning. It was a beacon of hope for me, a potty stop and food all in one place - and I could have bacon with it! The men making our sandwiches seems like warriors to me, braving the elements to stay open just to rescue us. I wanted to kiss them - but the bathroom was more of a rescuer at that moment, so I left the poor men alone.
As we stood in line, letting these men build our sandwiches, I noticed the music playing in the background…a Christian radio station! This indeed was a beacon of hope. There were several others that had gathered here, eating and just getting in out of the storm; one gal had been riding her bike and was waiting for a ride. We asked about a hotel and were told to just go one block, and it wasn’t downhill! God is good - all the time! It didn’t take us long to wolf down our sandwiches and get that car going in the direction of a warm hotel room. It was a Marriott, with valet parking ONLY, and we didn’t care. Now my husband usually balks at spending money we don’t have to, but he didn’t even blink. We checked in, grabbed our bags and gave that young man our keys. Relief comes for many women in the form of tears - and I was on the verge of them for an hour, even after getting to our room. It had been a very long day.
It is only in the midst of a storm, that a beacon of hope is truly noticed. Many years ago, as we drove through Northern Idaho in pitch black of night, we kept noticing a light shining over the hills in front of us. It shone as a lighthouse over the ocean, hill after hill and it seemed that we would never actually arrive to find out the source. Finally we rounded one more curve, and found that all that light was coming from a tiny little town in the valley. I am quite positive, that had we been driving in the daylight, we would never have noticed it. Light always cuts straight through darkness, and a beacon shines it’s brightest when needed. This is probably why we cry out to Jesus in tough times, but don’t talk to Him a whole lot when things are going okay. This shouldn’t be! I’m going to work harder at making Jesus more of the constant companion He really is, than just my roadside rescuer.
Check-out isn’t until 12:00, so we are going to enjoy our Beacon for a bit longer this morning, and it even fed us for free, although Dale says breakfast cost $147! We’re waiting for the roads to get a little less icy, and then we’ll continue to our destination…which by the way - we are only about 20 miles from! Oh, and breakfast didn’t come with bacon, but there was plenty of sausage to eat!
Dale took the only exit we could and I prayed the whole way, as everything in Seattle is on a hill, and the ice and snow could make this a fast sleigh ride down to the Sound. I started praying that God would lead us to a place to eat and a hotel close by and definitely not down the hill. We turned one corner and went a few blocks and there, just to our left, was a beacon of hope! Strange that it was in the form of a Subway sandwich shop, but there it was anyway and who was I to question God’s reasoning. It was a beacon of hope for me, a potty stop and food all in one place - and I could have bacon with it! The men making our sandwiches seems like warriors to me, braving the elements to stay open just to rescue us. I wanted to kiss them - but the bathroom was more of a rescuer at that moment, so I left the poor men alone.
As we stood in line, letting these men build our sandwiches, I noticed the music playing in the background…a Christian radio station! This indeed was a beacon of hope. There were several others that had gathered here, eating and just getting in out of the storm; one gal had been riding her bike and was waiting for a ride. We asked about a hotel and were told to just go one block, and it wasn’t downhill! God is good - all the time! It didn’t take us long to wolf down our sandwiches and get that car going in the direction of a warm hotel room. It was a Marriott, with valet parking ONLY, and we didn’t care. Now my husband usually balks at spending money we don’t have to, but he didn’t even blink. We checked in, grabbed our bags and gave that young man our keys. Relief comes for many women in the form of tears - and I was on the verge of them for an hour, even after getting to our room. It had been a very long day.
It is only in the midst of a storm, that a beacon of hope is truly noticed. Many years ago, as we drove through Northern Idaho in pitch black of night, we kept noticing a light shining over the hills in front of us. It shone as a lighthouse over the ocean, hill after hill and it seemed that we would never actually arrive to find out the source. Finally we rounded one more curve, and found that all that light was coming from a tiny little town in the valley. I am quite positive, that had we been driving in the daylight, we would never have noticed it. Light always cuts straight through darkness, and a beacon shines it’s brightest when needed. This is probably why we cry out to Jesus in tough times, but don’t talk to Him a whole lot when things are going okay. This shouldn’t be! I’m going to work harder at making Jesus more of the constant companion He really is, than just my roadside rescuer.
Check-out isn’t until 12:00, so we are going to enjoy our Beacon for a bit longer this morning, and it even fed us for free, although Dale says breakfast cost $147! We’re waiting for the roads to get a little less icy, and then we’ll continue to our destination…which by the way - we are only about 20 miles from! Oh, and breakfast didn’t come with bacon, but there was plenty of sausage to eat!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Praise Be!
I grew up hearing the ‘older folk’ say “Praise-be!” It was usually preceded by “Well” and never followed up by what they were praise-being about. I was confused by this and usually looked up and all around trying to figure out what we were praise-being for! Sometimes it was said shortly after answering the front door and finding some random loved one on the other side of it. Other times it was muttered as a cake was being pulled from the oven. ‘Praise-be’s’ seemed to be thrown “willy nilly” all over the place!
I am about to leave for a week of vacation, and since I’m not sure I’ll get much writing done - I’d like to leave my Thanksgiving thoughts for you now. I’ll start off by saying, Praise-be for vacations! It isn’t often that my husband and I get away for a whole week, and even if it wasn’t the week of Thanksgiving, I would be giving much thanks! It’s easy to be thankful when we get to do something fun, or things are going well. How many of us know how to have a thankful heart when times are tough, or we are required to scrub the toilet? I can honestly say, I do not have a good handle on the latter scenario. Never have I said, “praise-be” with my head anywhere near the bathroom floor!
Even the Godliest of folk seem to struggle finding the good in the midst of the bad and the ugly. How in the world are those of us that are not even close to being perfect, do this? I have gone to church since I was eight days old, and I still have a hard time remembering to give thanks when I just don’t feel like it. So what do we do when we read scriptures like Psalm 118:24? “This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” There have been times when hearing that would have just irritated me! You want me to do what? Rejoice when my child has been disobedient? Sing hallelujah while I have piles of laundry to do? Dance a jig and be glad when I have just lost a loved one?
Several years ago I was reading one of Luci Swindoll’s books, and finally experienced one of the best explanations about this Psalm. A loose quote would be, “the rejoicing is not in the circumstances of the day, the rejoicing is in who made the day!” It was my “ah-ha” moment! “This is the day that the Lord has made!” I will praise Him and thank Him, not because of the circumstances of the day, but because He made the day! “I will rejoice and be glad in it.” I will sing that hallelujah and dance that jig, in spite of what the day brings, because God is faithful and will never leave me! Praise-Be indeed!
This Thanksgiving I hope you have a warm roof over your heads, family to be with, and great food to share in. But more than that - I pray that you have a “Praise-be” moment with God, giving thanks and rejoicing in what He has done, and who He is. If you find yourself without family, or much food to share in - I pray you give thanks for exactly the same reasons! What He did for us - giving His son to die for our sins, is still true even when we have a “bad day.” Who He is - our Savior, Redeemer, Counselor, Comforter, and Creator - is still true…even when we have to clean a toilet. So Praise-Be and pass the pumpkin pie!
I am about to leave for a week of vacation, and since I’m not sure I’ll get much writing done - I’d like to leave my Thanksgiving thoughts for you now. I’ll start off by saying, Praise-be for vacations! It isn’t often that my husband and I get away for a whole week, and even if it wasn’t the week of Thanksgiving, I would be giving much thanks! It’s easy to be thankful when we get to do something fun, or things are going well. How many of us know how to have a thankful heart when times are tough, or we are required to scrub the toilet? I can honestly say, I do not have a good handle on the latter scenario. Never have I said, “praise-be” with my head anywhere near the bathroom floor!
Even the Godliest of folk seem to struggle finding the good in the midst of the bad and the ugly. How in the world are those of us that are not even close to being perfect, do this? I have gone to church since I was eight days old, and I still have a hard time remembering to give thanks when I just don’t feel like it. So what do we do when we read scriptures like Psalm 118:24? “This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” There have been times when hearing that would have just irritated me! You want me to do what? Rejoice when my child has been disobedient? Sing hallelujah while I have piles of laundry to do? Dance a jig and be glad when I have just lost a loved one?
Several years ago I was reading one of Luci Swindoll’s books, and finally experienced one of the best explanations about this Psalm. A loose quote would be, “the rejoicing is not in the circumstances of the day, the rejoicing is in who made the day!” It was my “ah-ha” moment! “This is the day that the Lord has made!” I will praise Him and thank Him, not because of the circumstances of the day, but because He made the day! “I will rejoice and be glad in it.” I will sing that hallelujah and dance that jig, in spite of what the day brings, because God is faithful and will never leave me! Praise-Be indeed!
This Thanksgiving I hope you have a warm roof over your heads, family to be with, and great food to share in. But more than that - I pray that you have a “Praise-be” moment with God, giving thanks and rejoicing in what He has done, and who He is. If you find yourself without family, or much food to share in - I pray you give thanks for exactly the same reasons! What He did for us - giving His son to die for our sins, is still true even when we have a “bad day.” Who He is - our Savior, Redeemer, Counselor, Comforter, and Creator - is still true…even when we have to clean a toilet. So Praise-Be and pass the pumpkin pie!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Working Out!
I am about to embark on my tri-weekly adventure to Curves. I typically work out there on Monday, Wednesday and Friday every week - or try to. I began this journey, of thinking at age 52, I could be fit and slim again. While it is helping and I am definitely leaner and much more toned than when I started last March, I have a long, long - long, ways to go! I have set small goals for myself - knowing well enough that I am not able to commit more…and 10 pounds at a time eventually will get me to where I want to be. Although, I’m not sure exactly where that is; what is the end result I’m working-out for?
When I was 25, had been married for 6 years already, and gone through 2 pregnancies, I was determined to shed the extra pounds. I ran, did aerobics, walked, and ate barely anything. I also took diet pills - yes, the ones we now know are horrible for us! I was like a hamster on a wheel - on speed! I was indeed thin…in fact some people said, too thin! But dang - I looked good, and was “all that” and wore clothes that would not fit on one thigh of mine today. Eventually I crashed, health wise and diet wise and today running would only be necessary - or even possible, if a large Grizzly bear were chasing me! I do believe I would just lay down and play dead, and in the end - if eaten, would figure at least I was meaty and fatty enough to carry the bear through hibernation.
I am 52 now, and proud of it…I have earned every wrinkle, gray hair, and extra pound I have on me. I am no longer out working because of health issues, but I am working-out, and feeling good because of it. I do not take diet pills, yet my bathroom counter is filled with pill bottles. I am still restricted by diet, but now gluten, dairy and sugar free - if I’m behaving myself. No more Diet Coke in my hand 24/7 - now a water bottle. What has this world come to? Well, it’s come to this - I am sick and tired of being sick and tired! I’m not doing 30 minutes in a circle, on funny looking machines, with a dozen other women…just to lose weight. I’m not even doing it so I can look in the mirror again and say, “dang, I look good!” I simply want to feel good, be as healthy as I can, and be able to maybe, put a bit more distance between that Grizzly - if need be.
I need to be reminded of a different end result in my life too. I am setting these goals with my weight and health, but still terrible at setting spiritual ones! I keep forgetting that part of my daily workout should be picking up my Bible, and spending some quality time getting that part of my life toned. I should be sick and tired of feeling sick and tired when it comes to my spiritual life! I want to stand before God someday and have Him say “dang, you look good girl!” So - what is my end result…simply what I named this blog: being the best me I can be! That’s it - whether it’s my weight, health issues or the health of my spiritual life. It’s a goal I think we can all work toward. Now, excuse me - Curves is calling!
When I was 25, had been married for 6 years already, and gone through 2 pregnancies, I was determined to shed the extra pounds. I ran, did aerobics, walked, and ate barely anything. I also took diet pills - yes, the ones we now know are horrible for us! I was like a hamster on a wheel - on speed! I was indeed thin…in fact some people said, too thin! But dang - I looked good, and was “all that” and wore clothes that would not fit on one thigh of mine today. Eventually I crashed, health wise and diet wise and today running would only be necessary - or even possible, if a large Grizzly bear were chasing me! I do believe I would just lay down and play dead, and in the end - if eaten, would figure at least I was meaty and fatty enough to carry the bear through hibernation.
I am 52 now, and proud of it…I have earned every wrinkle, gray hair, and extra pound I have on me. I am no longer out working because of health issues, but I am working-out, and feeling good because of it. I do not take diet pills, yet my bathroom counter is filled with pill bottles. I am still restricted by diet, but now gluten, dairy and sugar free - if I’m behaving myself. No more Diet Coke in my hand 24/7 - now a water bottle. What has this world come to? Well, it’s come to this - I am sick and tired of being sick and tired! I’m not doing 30 minutes in a circle, on funny looking machines, with a dozen other women…just to lose weight. I’m not even doing it so I can look in the mirror again and say, “dang, I look good!” I simply want to feel good, be as healthy as I can, and be able to maybe, put a bit more distance between that Grizzly - if need be.
I need to be reminded of a different end result in my life too. I am setting these goals with my weight and health, but still terrible at setting spiritual ones! I keep forgetting that part of my daily workout should be picking up my Bible, and spending some quality time getting that part of my life toned. I should be sick and tired of feeling sick and tired when it comes to my spiritual life! I want to stand before God someday and have Him say “dang, you look good girl!” So - what is my end result…simply what I named this blog: being the best me I can be! That’s it - whether it’s my weight, health issues or the health of my spiritual life. It’s a goal I think we can all work toward. Now, excuse me - Curves is calling!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Of Worth!
What makes something a ‘treasure’ or gives worth to the things around us? I have a house full of treasures, and antiques - some beautiful, some maybe not so much. To me, they are all of worth. Most have been passed down for several generations and while they may be a bit raggedy, I love them! Perhaps some folks would look on these things and not see any worth - that it’s all junk. Others with more knowledge of the value of antiques, would just see dollar signs. The value of these treasures for me, is simply felt in my heart. There is one particular treasure that means a lot to me. I know it’s nothing special to look at, and certainly would not fetch much money at auction; I know the reality of what I’m holding. Yet, to me, it is a treasure of irreplaceable worth. It is a ring. In it’s glory days it held quite a few opals, it’s gold was shiny and the delicateness of it, made it gorgeous. I have never worn this ring, as it is too fragile since coming into my possession. It sits on a small decorative shelf amongst other tiny trinkets that I adore. I rarely even bring it out to show to people that visit - as I know it would mean nothing to most., but I know it’s there and it brings me comfort none the less.
This ring belonged to my grandmother, but was handed down to me by my aunt after Grandma passed away. My grandmother gave me a ring - a different ring, when I was in high school. It was a beautiful pearl ring in a square setting with tiny diamonds on either side. It was also gold, but was not new even when my grandfather gave it to grandma for their anniversary. I didn’t want the ring really - it wasn’t exactly what a 17 year old would think was stylish…but no one ever told grandma ‘no’! I planned to put the ring away as a keepsake, but grandma insisted that I wear it - “pearls are only beautiful when worn.” For a couple of years the ring stayed safe on my hand, or my nightstand. When I graduated high school, a friend, my parents and I did a mini-caravan in 3 vehicles to Boise, Idaho. About 2 hours into our journey we did a pit stop at a rest area somewhere between Medford and Bend. We weren’t there long - as we had many more hours to go, and soon we were back in the cars on our way. I believe it was hours later, between Bend and Burns, that my right hand felt naked. I looked down and instantly felt sick to my stomach - grandma’s ring was gone! It was too far to turn back, and I knew the ring wouldn’t be there anyway…I had taken it off to wash my hands and forgotten to put it back on.
I wasn’t worried about replacement value, or how old the ring was, or even that I no longer had a ring to wear! I wasn’t looking forward to my Mom chewing me out, but that wasn’t the cause for the sickness in my stomach either. I could not live with the thought of disappointing my grandma! I knew she would still love me, and knew she would not hold it against me…but disappointing her - I wanted to throw up! I settled in Boise, started my college years and independence and started years of praying that grandma would never ask me about the ring, and she never did. I never told her I lost it and carried that weight well into adulthood. Until one day at my aunt’s house; I confessed! Grandma was gone now, and I knew my aunt would understand - she always did. Onto her shaky, elderly legs she stood and told me to follow. We entered what was my grandmother’s room in her later years, and my aunt opened the top drawer of the dresser. She placed a ring box in my hands and said, “Grandma would want you to have this.” Inside was this tiny opal ring - not worth wearing, much too small for any of my fingers, and the most precious treasure I’ve ever laid my eyes on! My heart felt healed, and knew what I held was not just a ring, it was Grace!
The treasures in our lives are worth exactly what worth or value we place on them. No one else can tell us that worth, there is no appraisal needed done. This is true whether we’re talking about an old ring - or ourselves! I let a lost ring decide my worth and whether forgiveness was within reach! I knew it was, because I knew my grandma well enough, but I did not accept what I knew. As with any gift, it is our choice to accept or reject. How many Christmas or birthday gifts have you turned away without opening? Probably none! So why do we do that when it comes to what God has given us? I guess we figure we know better than the One that made us, what our worth is. The lesson of the ring in my life has stayed with me; I am forgiven, loved unconditionally, and am treasured. I hope that you accept that you are a treasure also.
“God saved you by His grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God.” Ephesians 2:8
“For the Lord is good. His unfailing love continues forever, and his faithfulness continues to each generation.”
Psalm 100:5
This ring belonged to my grandmother, but was handed down to me by my aunt after Grandma passed away. My grandmother gave me a ring - a different ring, when I was in high school. It was a beautiful pearl ring in a square setting with tiny diamonds on either side. It was also gold, but was not new even when my grandfather gave it to grandma for their anniversary. I didn’t want the ring really - it wasn’t exactly what a 17 year old would think was stylish…but no one ever told grandma ‘no’! I planned to put the ring away as a keepsake, but grandma insisted that I wear it - “pearls are only beautiful when worn.” For a couple of years the ring stayed safe on my hand, or my nightstand. When I graduated high school, a friend, my parents and I did a mini-caravan in 3 vehicles to Boise, Idaho. About 2 hours into our journey we did a pit stop at a rest area somewhere between Medford and Bend. We weren’t there long - as we had many more hours to go, and soon we were back in the cars on our way. I believe it was hours later, between Bend and Burns, that my right hand felt naked. I looked down and instantly felt sick to my stomach - grandma’s ring was gone! It was too far to turn back, and I knew the ring wouldn’t be there anyway…I had taken it off to wash my hands and forgotten to put it back on.
I wasn’t worried about replacement value, or how old the ring was, or even that I no longer had a ring to wear! I wasn’t looking forward to my Mom chewing me out, but that wasn’t the cause for the sickness in my stomach either. I could not live with the thought of disappointing my grandma! I knew she would still love me, and knew she would not hold it against me…but disappointing her - I wanted to throw up! I settled in Boise, started my college years and independence and started years of praying that grandma would never ask me about the ring, and she never did. I never told her I lost it and carried that weight well into adulthood. Until one day at my aunt’s house; I confessed! Grandma was gone now, and I knew my aunt would understand - she always did. Onto her shaky, elderly legs she stood and told me to follow. We entered what was my grandmother’s room in her later years, and my aunt opened the top drawer of the dresser. She placed a ring box in my hands and said, “Grandma would want you to have this.” Inside was this tiny opal ring - not worth wearing, much too small for any of my fingers, and the most precious treasure I’ve ever laid my eyes on! My heart felt healed, and knew what I held was not just a ring, it was Grace!
The treasures in our lives are worth exactly what worth or value we place on them. No one else can tell us that worth, there is no appraisal needed done. This is true whether we’re talking about an old ring - or ourselves! I let a lost ring decide my worth and whether forgiveness was within reach! I knew it was, because I knew my grandma well enough, but I did not accept what I knew. As with any gift, it is our choice to accept or reject. How many Christmas or birthday gifts have you turned away without opening? Probably none! So why do we do that when it comes to what God has given us? I guess we figure we know better than the One that made us, what our worth is. The lesson of the ring in my life has stayed with me; I am forgiven, loved unconditionally, and am treasured. I hope that you accept that you are a treasure also.
“God saved you by His grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God.” Ephesians 2:8
“For the Lord is good. His unfailing love continues forever, and his faithfulness continues to each generation.”
Psalm 100:5
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Waterfalls
In our backyard we created our very own, peaceful oasis to enjoy. It has taken 8 years, lots of planning and even more money, but it is coming along quite nicely. It has taken even more of my husband’s muscle strength and sweat to get it to where it is. It’s not done yet, as we seem to think of more and more to do back there, but it’s finally to the point where we can sit back there and really enjoy it. We have a brick patio area, a rock path leading the other side of the yard and in between them is a large pond and waterfall. There are koi to throw food to, lots of plants, a bench swing, fire pit and sitting area, and a Japanese sand raking garden also! We have discovered one major flaw to all this however. With all our planning and work to create this - we have created work in just keeping it maintained! Ugh!
We have created a nemesis - so to speak…right in our own backyard! It’s name is: Waterfall! The name speaks for itself - water fall…the water is suppose to fall! Today, as I sit here in my recliner next to the living room windows, the water is trickling, again. We did our research, bought the best system we found, and have a pump that moves 1400 gallons of water an hour! That is a pretty powerful pump, but a pump is only as good as the filter it’s attacked to apparently. The pump draws the pond water up and through a filter basket first, then pushes it on through a huge filtration system, before it is suppose to ‘fall’ down the rocks and back into the pond! That filter basket apparently doesn’t know that it’s job is to keep the pump from getting clogged, and even though we clean out the basket constantly, some things still get into the pump. This is the battle that ensues every week - Dale has to disconnect the pump, carry it to the shop and clean it out, then reattach it and prime it - then the water ‘falls’ and doesn’t trickle once again.
Why do we not just get a back hoe and fill the pond in and call it quits? Simple - we love the sound of water - trickling, falling or otherwise. Dale doesn’t mind the work (most days) that it takes to keep our oasis maintained, and I don’t, at all, mind watching him do it! This process has made me stop and think some today, about the work it takes to keep the water flowing strongly. How often in my life does my filter get clogged up or the pump God placed in me - my heart, stop working the way it should. All because I choose not to do the maintenance I need to, in order to keep things working right in my life. Ugh!
If I don’t read my Bible, stay open to God working on my heart, and let the Holy Spirit flow out of me - I feel pretty clogged up! I may be clogged enough with selfishness, laziness, and apathy that there is only room for the Holy Spirit and God’s love to “trickle” out of me. Given enough time, as with our waterfall, it eventually gets too bottled up with crud, and it stops flowing all together! The amount of work it takes to get things flowing right again is tons harder…heart wise, or pond wise. So wouldn’t it be easier to just do the maintenance consistently? I think so.
Proverbs 4:23... “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.”
We have created a nemesis - so to speak…right in our own backyard! It’s name is: Waterfall! The name speaks for itself - water fall…the water is suppose to fall! Today, as I sit here in my recliner next to the living room windows, the water is trickling, again. We did our research, bought the best system we found, and have a pump that moves 1400 gallons of water an hour! That is a pretty powerful pump, but a pump is only as good as the filter it’s attacked to apparently. The pump draws the pond water up and through a filter basket first, then pushes it on through a huge filtration system, before it is suppose to ‘fall’ down the rocks and back into the pond! That filter basket apparently doesn’t know that it’s job is to keep the pump from getting clogged, and even though we clean out the basket constantly, some things still get into the pump. This is the battle that ensues every week - Dale has to disconnect the pump, carry it to the shop and clean it out, then reattach it and prime it - then the water ‘falls’ and doesn’t trickle once again.
Why do we not just get a back hoe and fill the pond in and call it quits? Simple - we love the sound of water - trickling, falling or otherwise. Dale doesn’t mind the work (most days) that it takes to keep our oasis maintained, and I don’t, at all, mind watching him do it! This process has made me stop and think some today, about the work it takes to keep the water flowing strongly. How often in my life does my filter get clogged up or the pump God placed in me - my heart, stop working the way it should. All because I choose not to do the maintenance I need to, in order to keep things working right in my life. Ugh!
If I don’t read my Bible, stay open to God working on my heart, and let the Holy Spirit flow out of me - I feel pretty clogged up! I may be clogged enough with selfishness, laziness, and apathy that there is only room for the Holy Spirit and God’s love to “trickle” out of me. Given enough time, as with our waterfall, it eventually gets too bottled up with crud, and it stops flowing all together! The amount of work it takes to get things flowing right again is tons harder…heart wise, or pond wise. So wouldn’t it be easier to just do the maintenance consistently? I think so.
Proverbs 4:23... “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.”
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Disabled!
In today's technology the word "disabled" is used frequently. We can disable our car alarms, the home security systems, and I disable my touchpad on this laptop of mine. Those are all necessary and perfectly acceptable things to have disabled. When a person becomes disabled, that is a whole different ballgame.
I have lived with chronic pain and illness issues for over 15 years now and did continue to work, raise my family, and helped my husband in full-time ministry. Seven years ago I stopped working because my health and pain levels would not cooperate any longer, but I was not disabled. I have had to give up countless hobbies and ministries because I could no longer do them - but was not disabled. I have spent quite a bit of time in the ER, and doctor's offices, but was not disabled. Apparently, only the government can decide whether you are disabled or not.
It's official now...I am disabled! After being denied three times, getting a lawyer and finally being allowed a hearing - I am disabled! I actually was told that I was allowed to have, what was mine to begin with - my Social Security. Funny how that works. I wanted to have a party, celebrate, and scream it from the rooftops! Something that has such a negative affect on most folks, was cause for huge smiles at my house. I walked out to get the mail one day, and there in my hand was a big envelope from the SS administration. This was it - "the envelope please" moment! I stood in the street, ripped it open and said one more prayer, and then opened my eyes to the verdict. The judge's decision...I was disabled! Wahooooooooo!
Here's the rub though...I don't look disabled. I still know how to put on my makeup, and dress well, and smile. I get told often, "you look great" or "you don't look disabled" and I am thankful for that. I have a "disabled parking permit" and I use it...but you should see some of the looks I get! Because I don't look disabled, I get judged. The truth is however, I am in pain every day, all day, and I don't know what it's like to not be. No one pushed a button or entered a code into the keypad and "disabled" me. God did not zap me and decide to punish me for some wretched sin I committed. I have Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue Synd., arthritis, disc degeneration and bone spurs in my spine. And that folks, is just that...it is what it is, and while it is not fun - it is also not the end of the world.
I use to pray this way, "God, please take away my pain, remove it from me." Nothing happened. I prayed, and prayed - for years. Then one day I realized I was going about things all wrong and my prayers changed. I was told by someone that I inspired them, that they were so encouraged by my attitude and strength - that they decided they could do more. I started praying, "Lord, please take my pain and use it." And He has! I don't know how many times I hear, "If Mary can do it, so can I." Some days I have to remind myself that "Mary can do it," and there are days that Mary can't. Even when I can't get out and do everything I wished I could for God, or my family - or just for fun, I can still mentor and encourage people through email or Facebook!
When I have to lay down another hobby or ministry, I look around to see what I can pick up and do next. God is not done with me yet, and I don't just want to be used by Him - I want to be used up completely! No one can put a label on my heart and "disable" it! 2 Corinthians 12:10 is my battle cry through life..."So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me!"
I have lived with chronic pain and illness issues for over 15 years now and did continue to work, raise my family, and helped my husband in full-time ministry. Seven years ago I stopped working because my health and pain levels would not cooperate any longer, but I was not disabled. I have had to give up countless hobbies and ministries because I could no longer do them - but was not disabled. I have spent quite a bit of time in the ER, and doctor's offices, but was not disabled. Apparently, only the government can decide whether you are disabled or not.
It's official now...I am disabled! After being denied three times, getting a lawyer and finally being allowed a hearing - I am disabled! I actually was told that I was allowed to have, what was mine to begin with - my Social Security. Funny how that works. I wanted to have a party, celebrate, and scream it from the rooftops! Something that has such a negative affect on most folks, was cause for huge smiles at my house. I walked out to get the mail one day, and there in my hand was a big envelope from the SS administration. This was it - "the envelope please" moment! I stood in the street, ripped it open and said one more prayer, and then opened my eyes to the verdict. The judge's decision...I was disabled! Wahooooooooo!
Here's the rub though...I don't look disabled. I still know how to put on my makeup, and dress well, and smile. I get told often, "you look great" or "you don't look disabled" and I am thankful for that. I have a "disabled parking permit" and I use it...but you should see some of the looks I get! Because I don't look disabled, I get judged. The truth is however, I am in pain every day, all day, and I don't know what it's like to not be. No one pushed a button or entered a code into the keypad and "disabled" me. God did not zap me and decide to punish me for some wretched sin I committed. I have Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue Synd., arthritis, disc degeneration and bone spurs in my spine. And that folks, is just that...it is what it is, and while it is not fun - it is also not the end of the world.
I use to pray this way, "God, please take away my pain, remove it from me." Nothing happened. I prayed, and prayed - for years. Then one day I realized I was going about things all wrong and my prayers changed. I was told by someone that I inspired them, that they were so encouraged by my attitude and strength - that they decided they could do more. I started praying, "Lord, please take my pain and use it." And He has! I don't know how many times I hear, "If Mary can do it, so can I." Some days I have to remind myself that "Mary can do it," and there are days that Mary can't. Even when I can't get out and do everything I wished I could for God, or my family - or just for fun, I can still mentor and encourage people through email or Facebook!
When I have to lay down another hobby or ministry, I look around to see what I can pick up and do next. God is not done with me yet, and I don't just want to be used by Him - I want to be used up completely! No one can put a label on my heart and "disable" it! 2 Corinthians 12:10 is my battle cry through life..."So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me!"
Monday, November 15, 2010
Always bring the flowers!
There was wailing, and screaming, tears and sometimes even biting! All this and it wasn't even 10am yet! It was going to be a very long day. I had dared to venture into the realm of running a daycare center in my home! At least there was 'quiet time' in the near future...which was simply turning on Sesame Street and fixing a snack. It was LAW...you would sit and watch, and eat your snack! It was the only time I could go potty myself - without witnesses! Now most days did not start out quite this crazy...most were routine and fun, and I enjoyed what I did. This was not one of those days!
At the time, our own children were evenly distributed in grade school, Junior High and High School...one in each. Around 3pm each day they would start back in our door and again, 'most days' that would be a huge help to me! They would do their homework, get something to eat, and pick up a baby or toddler and join in the fun. This was not one of those days either! This day, my own kids were fighting and life had gone terribly wrong at school, and I "did not understand"! For my part, the day was a total loss: there was no chocolate in the house!
In an attempt to keep my sanity throughout 'that day', I called my husband for some adult conversation. By late afternoon I just looked forward to him walking through the door and to me having back-up! When he arrived, I happened to be in the bathroom with a couple of little people in training, hands full and an insane look on my face (I imagine). Now at this point you probably think that Dale arrived in full stride, hands on hips, with a cape flowing behind him. Perhaps you think I swooned at the sight of him and fell into his arms and we passionately kissed. You would be very, very wrong!
My loving, kind and thoughtful husband quietly stood before me, and said... "I was going to buy you flowers on my way home, but I figured if you had that bad of a day they wouldn't help - and if you didn't, you wouldn't need them." Ladies...this is not an exaggeration and Men...this is not a suggestion. I'm not sure how long I stared at him in that moment, but all I could think to say was, "thanks, I guess."
We have laughed about that moment for years now! He did explain himself later that night; he felt he should come straight home and not stop for flowers, since he knew I'd had a bad day. There will be 'those days', and nothing can substitute for a kind spoken word, or a gentle touch when we're going through them. But guys...always bring the flowers! I still pick up the phone during 'those days' and talk to my husband, or a friend, or other family members. I'm most thankful though, that I don't even need a cell phone to talk to God. He is always available, totally interested in what kind of day I'm having, and ready with flowers - whether I need them or not!
At the time, our own children were evenly distributed in grade school, Junior High and High School...one in each. Around 3pm each day they would start back in our door and again, 'most days' that would be a huge help to me! They would do their homework, get something to eat, and pick up a baby or toddler and join in the fun. This was not one of those days either! This day, my own kids were fighting and life had gone terribly wrong at school, and I "did not understand"! For my part, the day was a total loss: there was no chocolate in the house!
In an attempt to keep my sanity throughout 'that day', I called my husband for some adult conversation. By late afternoon I just looked forward to him walking through the door and to me having back-up! When he arrived, I happened to be in the bathroom with a couple of little people in training, hands full and an insane look on my face (I imagine). Now at this point you probably think that Dale arrived in full stride, hands on hips, with a cape flowing behind him. Perhaps you think I swooned at the sight of him and fell into his arms and we passionately kissed. You would be very, very wrong!
My loving, kind and thoughtful husband quietly stood before me, and said... "I was going to buy you flowers on my way home, but I figured if you had that bad of a day they wouldn't help - and if you didn't, you wouldn't need them." Ladies...this is not an exaggeration and Men...this is not a suggestion. I'm not sure how long I stared at him in that moment, but all I could think to say was, "thanks, I guess."
We have laughed about that moment for years now! He did explain himself later that night; he felt he should come straight home and not stop for flowers, since he knew I'd had a bad day. There will be 'those days', and nothing can substitute for a kind spoken word, or a gentle touch when we're going through them. But guys...always bring the flowers! I still pick up the phone during 'those days' and talk to my husband, or a friend, or other family members. I'm most thankful though, that I don't even need a cell phone to talk to God. He is always available, totally interested in what kind of day I'm having, and ready with flowers - whether I need them or not!
Friday, November 12, 2010
Twirling!
I'm cheating a bit this morning, because I'm about ready to leave for the week-end...so I'm posting something I've already written. I love 'copy and paste'! Hope it speaks to someone out there today!
I magically twirled around the attic pretending once again to be a beautiful bride. The veil on my head draped delicately down my back, was matched in beauty by the cupcake shaped, puffy skirt. It made a wonderful swishing sound as the skirt rustled back and forth like a bell in full gong! I was maybe six or seven years old at the time and the veil was a satin half-slip held in place on my head by the elastic waistband. The gonging skirt was in reality another half-slip, full-length with three tiers of puffy lace. To me, they were a beautiful ensemble, just perfect for an imaginative wedding. Grandma’s attic held anything needed for transforming a girl into what she dreamed of being. A shawl became a cape, and a mighty superhero was born! Several layers of satin slips became a ball gown for a princess. There were hats and gloves for afternoon tea with the queen and high-heeled shoes for looking way older than your Daddy would want you to! Hours later reality would knock on the door, and a voice would interrupt, saying, “time for dinner.” This is a window to my childhood.
My grandparents ran a second-hand shop and Grandma Newton kept an eye open for things she knew I would love. I couldn’t wait to get up to the attic to discover what the latest fashion statement would be. An added side-effect of all this fun…I knew I was loved. I knew that the silly, talkative, ask too many questions, at times annoying, little ole ME, was unconditionally loved! I truly grew up believing that I was special, gifted, totally lovable, and that surely everyone adored me (except my brother of course)!
When I was a preschooler my grandma babysat me off and on and those were great days! I had my own little wooden, red chair and it fit just right at the glass-topped coffee table in my grandparent’s living room. The glass top wasn’t there to protect the wooden table - it was there to protect the photos underneath. It was a showcase of all the grand and great-grandkids and I could sit and study each face while I had my lunch. There were tea parties prepared in a tiny tin pot that grandpa had found at yet another yard sale, and grandma filled it with some pale tea water and a lot of sugar and milk! There were always Fig Newton’s and homemade sugar cookies - and my personal favorite…a jar of dill pickles.
I remember Grandma hosting the church quilting bee in her living room and while the church ladies poked their needles in and out…I was underneath pretending it was my secret fort! I also remember the TV coming on and it was Roller Derby time! The yelling, the taunting - and that was just grandma urging her favorite teams to hit harder! I sat and wondered what secret life my grandma could have had and pictured her sneaking out late at night to go rough people up! That was a very funny thought since she was barely over five feet tall!
I wasn’t able to see Grandma very often after getting married and moving away, occasional letters and phone calls were all that let her know what she meant to me. I don’t have very many regrets in life, but that is a big one. I should have practiced more of the intentional loving I had seen in her. Some of my last memories of her were of a frail, arthritis-ravaged little body - with a mind sharp as ever. My last smile from her was because I told her that she would probably wait to die until I got all the way home, just to spite me. Thus making me drive 500 miles back to Oregon for her funeral. Some of her last words to me let me know I was right and she would do her part to be ornery. The morning after I returned home from that trip to Oregon, my mother called to tell me, “Grandma passed away last night.” Instead of tears, a smile appeared on my face. Grandma got the last word again.
I miss my grandma. I said my last “I love you” many years ago, yet there are still times that I see or hear something funny and want to pick up the phone so I can tell her about it! I miss her mischievous smile and her wink - letting me know that her and I share the secret of why something is funny. I miss hearing her tell me “you’re going to be okay” and I really miss being able to believe it! When Grandma said it…it just had to be so! I was always sure she had a direct line to God and that He listened, cause He knew better not to! I miss being loved just as I am, treasured for just being me…big mouth and all. Oh, and I miss twirling! When I have one of those days, I stop and remember something wonderful: God loves me unconditionally!
God treasures me and with a smile and wink - He gets me! Even in my 50’s, I can stand before Him and twirl, and feel beautiful in His sight. A little bit of Grandma lives within me, and I thank God that He made me that way. I have my own home to invite others to now, and make them tea…and I’ll take mine still, with too much sugar. Hopefully I remember to say, “you’re going to be okay” to those that need to hear it, and share an unconditional love to all I meet. I will still be a bit ornery, and silly - will probably talk too much, and I still love dill pickles. I hope and pray that God continues to bring people into my life that love me just the way I am too! Now excuse me…I have some twirling to do and a few sugar cookies to bake!
I magically twirled around the attic pretending once again to be a beautiful bride. The veil on my head draped delicately down my back, was matched in beauty by the cupcake shaped, puffy skirt. It made a wonderful swishing sound as the skirt rustled back and forth like a bell in full gong! I was maybe six or seven years old at the time and the veil was a satin half-slip held in place on my head by the elastic waistband. The gonging skirt was in reality another half-slip, full-length with three tiers of puffy lace. To me, they were a beautiful ensemble, just perfect for an imaginative wedding. Grandma’s attic held anything needed for transforming a girl into what she dreamed of being. A shawl became a cape, and a mighty superhero was born! Several layers of satin slips became a ball gown for a princess. There were hats and gloves for afternoon tea with the queen and high-heeled shoes for looking way older than your Daddy would want you to! Hours later reality would knock on the door, and a voice would interrupt, saying, “time for dinner.” This is a window to my childhood.
My grandparents ran a second-hand shop and Grandma Newton kept an eye open for things she knew I would love. I couldn’t wait to get up to the attic to discover what the latest fashion statement would be. An added side-effect of all this fun…I knew I was loved. I knew that the silly, talkative, ask too many questions, at times annoying, little ole ME, was unconditionally loved! I truly grew up believing that I was special, gifted, totally lovable, and that surely everyone adored me (except my brother of course)!
When I was a preschooler my grandma babysat me off and on and those were great days! I had my own little wooden, red chair and it fit just right at the glass-topped coffee table in my grandparent’s living room. The glass top wasn’t there to protect the wooden table - it was there to protect the photos underneath. It was a showcase of all the grand and great-grandkids and I could sit and study each face while I had my lunch. There were tea parties prepared in a tiny tin pot that grandpa had found at yet another yard sale, and grandma filled it with some pale tea water and a lot of sugar and milk! There were always Fig Newton’s and homemade sugar cookies - and my personal favorite…a jar of dill pickles.
I remember Grandma hosting the church quilting bee in her living room and while the church ladies poked their needles in and out…I was underneath pretending it was my secret fort! I also remember the TV coming on and it was Roller Derby time! The yelling, the taunting - and that was just grandma urging her favorite teams to hit harder! I sat and wondered what secret life my grandma could have had and pictured her sneaking out late at night to go rough people up! That was a very funny thought since she was barely over five feet tall!
I wasn’t able to see Grandma very often after getting married and moving away, occasional letters and phone calls were all that let her know what she meant to me. I don’t have very many regrets in life, but that is a big one. I should have practiced more of the intentional loving I had seen in her. Some of my last memories of her were of a frail, arthritis-ravaged little body - with a mind sharp as ever. My last smile from her was because I told her that she would probably wait to die until I got all the way home, just to spite me. Thus making me drive 500 miles back to Oregon for her funeral. Some of her last words to me let me know I was right and she would do her part to be ornery. The morning after I returned home from that trip to Oregon, my mother called to tell me, “Grandma passed away last night.” Instead of tears, a smile appeared on my face. Grandma got the last word again.
I miss my grandma. I said my last “I love you” many years ago, yet there are still times that I see or hear something funny and want to pick up the phone so I can tell her about it! I miss her mischievous smile and her wink - letting me know that her and I share the secret of why something is funny. I miss hearing her tell me “you’re going to be okay” and I really miss being able to believe it! When Grandma said it…it just had to be so! I was always sure she had a direct line to God and that He listened, cause He knew better not to! I miss being loved just as I am, treasured for just being me…big mouth and all. Oh, and I miss twirling! When I have one of those days, I stop and remember something wonderful: God loves me unconditionally!
God treasures me and with a smile and wink - He gets me! Even in my 50’s, I can stand before Him and twirl, and feel beautiful in His sight. A little bit of Grandma lives within me, and I thank God that He made me that way. I have my own home to invite others to now, and make them tea…and I’ll take mine still, with too much sugar. Hopefully I remember to say, “you’re going to be okay” to those that need to hear it, and share an unconditional love to all I meet. I will still be a bit ornery, and silly - will probably talk too much, and I still love dill pickles. I hope and pray that God continues to bring people into my life that love me just the way I am too! Now excuse me…I have some twirling to do and a few sugar cookies to bake!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Drink it all in!
Years ago our family spent several days in the Diamond Lake area of Oregon. We rented a cabin and enjoyed some fishing, boating and also hiked around quite a few waterfalls. The last day, as we headed South to visit family, we stopped off at Crater Lake. Being a full-fledged Oregonian, I have been to Crater Lake many times - but have never been 'on' the lake. We hiked down a very long steep path, to the lake's dock and took a boat tour. It was over an hour long tour and was very informative, beautiful, fun and HOT! We arrived back at the dock in the heat of the day, and realized we had not planned well for this adventure. We were hungry and thirsty and still had to hike back up to the parking lot. The people that run this wonderful adventure are not stupid...right at the dock there sits a little snack shack filled with candy, sodas and bottled water. I was thirsty and had to have water - at any cost! I believe I saw a few tears in my husband's eye as he paid around $5.00 for that bottle of water! We all had a drink and started up the steep path to our car. Our teenage sons ran to the top. My kind, loving husband stayed behind with our daughter and I, as we walked, gasped, and whined our way to the top. Had we not had that water, I would not have made it!
I have been on other journeys in my life, that I didn't plan for. I've felt lost in a desert, with no water and no one there to guide me. Imagine with me such a time...lost in a desert, wandering for days, nothing in sight but barren land, and no water to drink. Then think what it would be like to turn a corner and find yourself standing at the edge of waterfall, a roaring, awesome, misting, waterfall! Wouldn't that be a powerful moment? Wouldn't you just jump in, drink in that water, and feel alive, refreshed and saved? I have felt that at times when I've wandered in a desert of my own making and then work my way back to God!
Psalm 63:1-3 teaches me about this kind of glory and power -
O God, you are my God; I earnestly search for you.
My soul thirsts for you; my whole body longs for you.
In this parched and weary land; where there is no water.
I have seen you in your sanctuary and gazed upon your power and glory.
Your unfailing love is better than life itself.
Even when it's my own choices to be in the desert, perhaps haven't planned well, and even wounded and whine a lot...God's unfailing love is there. I may have to make the journey through the choices I make, do the work and search, but His power and glory are waiting for me - always! There is a line from the movie Last Holiday, "it's not how we start that matters, it's how we finish." This is so true, whether it's our life as a whole we're talking about, or whatever journey we find ourselves on in the middle of that life. The finish line, the top of the steep path, the edge of the lake..."Behold your power and glory." Feel the mist on your face, hear the roar, see the power of it! Set your gaze on it. Drink it all in!
I have been on other journeys in my life, that I didn't plan for. I've felt lost in a desert, with no water and no one there to guide me. Imagine with me such a time...lost in a desert, wandering for days, nothing in sight but barren land, and no water to drink. Then think what it would be like to turn a corner and find yourself standing at the edge of waterfall, a roaring, awesome, misting, waterfall! Wouldn't that be a powerful moment? Wouldn't you just jump in, drink in that water, and feel alive, refreshed and saved? I have felt that at times when I've wandered in a desert of my own making and then work my way back to God!
Psalm 63:1-3 teaches me about this kind of glory and power -
O God, you are my God; I earnestly search for you.
My soul thirsts for you; my whole body longs for you.
In this parched and weary land; where there is no water.
I have seen you in your sanctuary and gazed upon your power and glory.
Your unfailing love is better than life itself.
Even when it's my own choices to be in the desert, perhaps haven't planned well, and even wounded and whine a lot...God's unfailing love is there. I may have to make the journey through the choices I make, do the work and search, but His power and glory are waiting for me - always! There is a line from the movie Last Holiday, "it's not how we start that matters, it's how we finish." This is so true, whether it's our life as a whole we're talking about, or whatever journey we find ourselves on in the middle of that life. The finish line, the top of the steep path, the edge of the lake..."Behold your power and glory." Feel the mist on your face, hear the roar, see the power of it! Set your gaze on it. Drink it all in!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Pardon me, but there’s an angel in the road and he’s got a sword.
Picture yourself out for a drive on a lovely afternoon, when suddenly your car veers off the road and ends up in a field. You didn’t turn the wheel that way, the car seemed to just decide on it’s own where it wanted to go. You manage to get back onto the road, but a few yards later - the car dives itself into a ditch! What would you be thinking? I believe most of us would decide the car had something wrong with it and would wait for a tow truck. We might say some unkind things to the car as well, and kick a tire or two. I do not believe we would assume the car had received divine intervention and chose to go off-road!
When I first read the account of Balaam and his donkey (Numbers 22:21-35), I was rather judgmental. In our present day laws of animal rights and people getting arrested because they didn’t take care of their cat…Balaam surely would be thrown in the clinker for beating and threatening to kill his donkey! Then I wondered if I would have really acted that different. If my car rattles too much, I’m ready to trade it in. So I guess I’ll cut the guy some slack.
Poor Balaam, he really does start out with good intentions - as many of us do. He asks God whether he should go and help Balak…but God says no. However Balak isn’t use to people saying no to him, so he is persistent. I personally know this game - I have had children. Somehow between the word “no” leaving my mouth and their ears hearing it - it turns into a “maybe” and so they ask again later. I don’t think God likes this game with his children anymore than I did, and as long as I’ve known Him - No, means, no! So…Balak sends his messengers back to Balaam again and asks him to come. Again Balaam says “I’m pretty sure God won’t want me to do that, but I’ll ask him anyway.”
At this point of the story I think God decides, as often I did, to give in and let the kid go -despite His own reservations. Perhaps Balaam will learn more from his mistakes, so he loads his donkey and heads down the road, truly believing that God changed His mind. I have ended up in a field or two in my life because I thought I had convinced God of what His will was for my life. How about you?
Having a talking donkey could really come in handy; one that veers off the road because they are aware of danger ahead. I could have used one as a kid. Where was that donkey the day I decided to cross a creek (after being told not to), and ran into a swarm of bees. My donkey could have said, “Mary, it’s only a little ways more to the bridge and I believe it would be safer to cross the water that way.” Knowing me, I wouldn’t have listened to that donkey any better than I did to my parents though.
Perhaps God let Balaam continue down the path he was on because He knows His children well enough to know it’s the only way we learn important lessons. After 17 stings all over my body, I learned the short cuts of life don’t always take us where we want to end up. God did give me a way to see the angel standing in the road with a sword…our “donkey” is called the Holy Spirit.
When I first read the account of Balaam and his donkey (Numbers 22:21-35), I was rather judgmental. In our present day laws of animal rights and people getting arrested because they didn’t take care of their cat…Balaam surely would be thrown in the clinker for beating and threatening to kill his donkey! Then I wondered if I would have really acted that different. If my car rattles too much, I’m ready to trade it in. So I guess I’ll cut the guy some slack.
Poor Balaam, he really does start out with good intentions - as many of us do. He asks God whether he should go and help Balak…but God says no. However Balak isn’t use to people saying no to him, so he is persistent. I personally know this game - I have had children. Somehow between the word “no” leaving my mouth and their ears hearing it - it turns into a “maybe” and so they ask again later. I don’t think God likes this game with his children anymore than I did, and as long as I’ve known Him - No, means, no! So…Balak sends his messengers back to Balaam again and asks him to come. Again Balaam says “I’m pretty sure God won’t want me to do that, but I’ll ask him anyway.”
At this point of the story I think God decides, as often I did, to give in and let the kid go -despite His own reservations. Perhaps Balaam will learn more from his mistakes, so he loads his donkey and heads down the road, truly believing that God changed His mind. I have ended up in a field or two in my life because I thought I had convinced God of what His will was for my life. How about you?
Having a talking donkey could really come in handy; one that veers off the road because they are aware of danger ahead. I could have used one as a kid. Where was that donkey the day I decided to cross a creek (after being told not to), and ran into a swarm of bees. My donkey could have said, “Mary, it’s only a little ways more to the bridge and I believe it would be safer to cross the water that way.” Knowing me, I wouldn’t have listened to that donkey any better than I did to my parents though.
Perhaps God let Balaam continue down the path he was on because He knows His children well enough to know it’s the only way we learn important lessons. After 17 stings all over my body, I learned the short cuts of life don’t always take us where we want to end up. God did give me a way to see the angel standing in the road with a sword…our “donkey” is called the Holy Spirit.
Starting Over!
The previous two posts came from over a year ago, and I haven't written much since. So, I begin again! Writing is in my heart and I keep ignoring that part of my heart too often. Our hearts are interesting organs. We need them whole and working right to be our healthiest - and yet, a heart is made of of different chambers. This is much like the different interests that make us - us. I am wife, mom, grandma, daughter, sister, and aunt...but that does not quite define me. I love photography, nature, my dogs, and shopping...and those things still do not define me. I am a great many things and God knits them together to make a whole me - a heart that is healthy, and without Him my heart would not survive. A big piece of what makes my heart "tick" is writing, and I have been neglecting that piece lately! Well, no more - and hopefully this blog, being out there for all to see...will hold me more accountable. So here I go!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)