Eye-rolling and other gestures

A friend felt offended by a loved one. When his back was turned, she fingered him. She had no excuses. Because of built up resentment, she reacted quickly and in offensive ways when she became frustrated.

I can't imagine Jesus even doing an eye-roll when He was exasperated. And, there were plenty of opportunities when his disciples indicated only a glimmer of understanding of what he was trying to achieve. ...Not to mention the Pharisees and other legalists who questioned him at every turn.

And, here, we are, created in His image, with anger popping up and displaying unrighteous behavior. Where is that divine spirit within each of us?

It's original sin rearing its ugly head.
It's also not an excuse we can use...
Because of Christ in me, in us, we can do better; we must do better.
Repentance means "change"....

I will feel that Jesus has accomplished something in me, when I no longer react in such a manner. Thank you, Jesus, for not giving up on me.

Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, a well as all types of evil behavior. Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you. Ephesians 4:31-32

What I Left Behind

Messenger binged. I took a quick look to see a stranger’s face. Curious, I opened it and learned it was from a former student. The year was 1971. She texted that I was a “great teacher,” and she just wanted to say “hi.”

Beginning teachers....

I wanted to text her back and explain that I was not a great teacher. I learned much of the material the night before the next day of school and wrote it out on index cards because I was not knowledgeable or glib enough to wing it. On many days I was terrified the class would eat me up and spit me out for their simple entertainment. Instead, I messaged her back with “Time does fly, and so much happens between the then and now. Hope life has been good for you.” And, it started me thinking of my own then and now and what I left behind and am still leaving behind.

After forty eight years of marriage, raising four children, twenty seven years of teaching—some on the wrong side of the tracks and some in special education, running a day-care out of my home, fearing we would not have food on the table at the end of the month, worrying about a child in another state having an allergic reaction in a motel room and all alone, etc…. you get the point. I don’t want to go back; I don’t want any do-overs. The first time was difficult and while difficult, also worthy in shaping me into an adult who is less naïve and yet more compassionate and understanding. An adult, who is less thin-skinned and one who has developed a sometimes wide-ranging sense of humor.

After retirement, I became a writer (thanks to my writing group I can say this and not feel inadequate or funny or weird). When the books came out, one by one, I would grow anxious, wondering if I was misusing scripture, offending anyone, or making typos, or writing like someone who had no business writing. I would check the ratings, check the reviews, and get tied up in things I could do nothing about—that is if I really wanted to write what I was called to write about.  Well, let’s say, I’ve grown. I’ve left some things behind, again: things that needed to be taken off my shoulders; things that needed to be erased from inside my head.

I choose to write words and send them out into the world and hope they find a home somewhere. For some, my words come across as negative, intense, not worthy of their time. That, is okay. I like suspense and mystery in a story. I also love scripture. So, I use all three. Some readers prefer to read about quilt-making, romance, or history. That is okay, too. What others think of me or what I write about is their business.

Getting older isn’t half bad. You determine that a person only has so much time left, why not be you? I want to be sillier, I want to laugh more, I want to dance when the mood is right. I have left behind some of what I used to consider proper. I am free-er, I am stronger, I am more at peace.

Erich From wrote, The whole of life of the individual is nothing but the process of giving birth to himself; indeed we should be fully born when we die.....  hopefully, with what I’ve left behind, I'm on my way to being "fully born."

Run of the House

Many years ago I operated a daycare out of our home. It was one of the most difficult jobs I ever had; it was also one of the most rewarding in that I developed both perseverance and loving characteristics that may have needed developing.

During these years we lived in a modest house in town and, then, moved to a larger house on an acreage with a huge lawn. In both homes, the kids pretty much had the run of the house. I was asked by several visitors, "Why do you let them do that?" Upstairs, downstairs, family room, living room, kitchen floor, our son's bedroom, a closet or two, inside and out...

I felt that the children should have the freedom to play what they wanted, where they wanted--with boundaries, of course, and a definite routine--rest time after lunch being one of my favorites. Keeping them to one room would have eased my job but prevented their independence and learning experiences.

I couldn't help but remember my day-care experiences when I read this morning's Bible verse: Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other... And cultivate thankfulness. Let the Word of Christ--the Message--have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives... Colossians 3: 16+ [MSG]*

This verse is actually liberating, unfettering, unshackling....
Let Christ live IN YOU (you are the house) and be a part of every experience you have, every person you meet. Where you go, He goes, hand-in-hand. He's your guide, your friend, He's IN YOU. Let it happen. Let Him have the run of your house.






*MSG is the Bible in contemporary language created by Eugene Peterson, published in segments from 1993-2002, translated from the original languages. 

Minimalist

According to a google definition, a minimalist is one who keeps things very simple, a person who has a few possessions. It can refer to lifestyle, art, or politics. To be a minimalist, one must ask questions and identify what is of value and what is not. This would involve removing all clutter from your life, using your finances for things more valuable than possessions. Doing this might allow for more freedom, more time to do the activities you enjoy and therefore less stress.

Hallelujah!

I could clear half of my stuff out of our house and still live very well. Plus, I wouldn't have to take care of it. I would have less decisions to make, as in, should I clean out the closet today or dust the  collective items on my various shelves?

If Jesus were on Earth today, he would be considered a minimalist. He would live in a simple home, eat simple foods, wear ordinary clothes, and spend his time out and about with others--speaking of God's incredible love.


Hallelujah! Always be full of joy in the Lord, I say it again--rejoice! Philippians 4:4

Pretending

As a young girl, I would get out the Sears and Roebuck Catalog when my best friend, Donna Mae, came over and we would play "Choose One." The rules: 1) Take turns 2) When it's your turn, choose one item from a page. 3) It's yours! 4) If you choose to "skip," then your friend has to choose from that page. 5) You would therefore get the next two pages--without looking ahead to see if there was even anything you wanted. A risk, indeed.

This could take up an hour or more of our time. We pictured ourselves in beautiful coats and shoes, acquiring new furniture for our bedrooms, and riding a colorful bike right out of the catalog. I recall wishing that she would "skip" a page because there was an item I oh soooo wanted on that particular page. Sometimes, we were generous with each other's wishes.

When alone, I imagined myself as Peter Pan because Peter could fly; it looked like a lot of fun and freedom beyond my farm life miles and miles from anywhere. We had a tree house in our grove where there were pretend opportunities. What if I lived alone, here? What would I eat? Where would I sleep? What if someone drove down our long lane.... would they find me here hidden in the brush and brambles leading to the fortress?

Our pretending games change as we get older. Although being Peter Pan is still tempting, taking an American Airlines flight is more practical. Along with the mystery, I see the potential of poison ivy and insects when I view a grove. My current pretending has to do with reality. I'm wishing for serious illnesses to disappear, a grand child's success at school, a broken relationship to be healed.

My pretend times have turned into prayer times...

Thank goodness, we do not have to pretend with God.
Thank goodness, we have a God that hears us.

Not Much Happening?

"What's happening?"
"What did you do today?"

Even if one is quite busy, he may answer not much simply because life becomes routine--as in same old same old.

Well, this morning while sitting at my kitchen table in the quiet, I thought about the "not much happening" phrase and I looked around and listened more intently than I might normally.
I heard the birds' various twitters. I studied the tree tips as the leaves individually choreographed their own dance. A cloud with an intriguing shape transformed into something else right before my eyes. I took a stool and placed it on the front porch and watched the weather. Sounds like a tiger growling, low and insistent, spread through the heavens, and then a crackle, and then another sound like the dismantling of an old metal machine. A rain drop caught my nose, and then another on my foot. Next, the sound of a bass drum and the sky rolling back from horizon to horizon with a light show.
Not much happening?
God is EVERYWHERE.... gotta be a LOT happening.
Perhaps the question is, how do I fit into all this?
First of all, check out nature; she's always got a show going on.
Next, I could call a friend who recently had shoulder surgery.
I will pray for Carol's husband who has been ill.
A plate of cookies to the neighbor lady might bring her a smile.
I can ask someone, "What did you do today?".. and then really listen beyond the not much answer...

Enjoy what is before you, whether it's lunch with your forever friend or a new friend. Perhaps, it's picking up a child after school and an offer of chocolate milk and a cookie. Perhaps, it's staying late at work so someone else can go home early.
Help others by reflecting the love Christ gave you.
Make it happen with prayer and praise to an Almighty Creator who has given us so much.
And get outside a little each day; it's amazing what fresh air and nature's ever-changing portrait can do for you.

Push PAUSE

Thanks to my parents, I typically pray four times a day: before each meal and before falling asleep at night. “Come Lord Jesus, be our guest….” is my meal time prayer. I have given up the “Now I lay me down to sleep….” evening prayer, unless my grandchildren are in-house, and pray the Lord’s Prayer  along with my heartfelt concerns and expressions of thanks and praise.

Recently, a friend shared an acronymn for hitting all the bases when praying.

A – Acknowledge LORDship

C – Confession (including sins of omission, commission, self-submission)

T – Thanks and praise

S – Supplications – ending with “Thy will be done…”

God cares about us; God cares about creation; God cares about the nations of the world. The Bible verse, Pray without ceasing, used to give me a bit of a guilt complex, in that, how is that possible, Lord?

However, I have come to believe that prayer is not just speaking words of praise, thanks, supplicating, and confessing. It is an attitude. In other words, where are your thoughts?  Am I listening in to the Holy Spirit? If I fill my head with scripture, I’m more apt to have prayerful thoughts. God’s Word is there for a reason. It is a connection to an Almighty God.

I have determined this morning that I can get better at this praying without ceasing if I PAUSE, yes, actually stop to pray more than four times a day. If you’re like me, you have to write this down as a reminder. So, today, after lunch, I’m going to a quiet place after cleaning off the table, and acknowledge God as my Savior, confess my sins large and small, thank Him for the blessings He has bestowed, mention my concerns, and yes, Thy will be done.

It’s a start.

Just maybe I’ll find other times during the day to PAUSE wherever I am…. knowing God wants my company.

I’ve noticed that the closer I feel to my Creator, the more content I am.

PAUSE-ing more often in prayer, just might make my day!

Memories of the Family Farmhouse

The family farmhouse where my dad spent some of his growing-up years, the house he brought his new bride home to, the house that eventually housed six children and their sometimes over-whelmed parents lies crumbled beneath branches and other grove litter waiting for a match.

Once upon a time, a fence surrounded its yard--a yard where a softball game followed every summer, noon meal. A garden with beans and carrots and strawberries lay nearby. Apple trees beckoned those interested in an afternoon apple or an adventurous climb.

When I was very little, my brothers and I spent most of one summer on the screened in porch just off the kitchen. Battling measles and mumps, we lay limp and wished for summer breezes as Mom nursed us back to health while doing the laundry, cooking, and other summer chores.

My memories are primarily of the kitchen where all good smells came from. After that, believe it or not, it is the back steps. It was here that we rushed up the steps after school to hope for a cookie or a cold drink on warm fall days or hot chocolate on a wintry day. It was here that we rushed out the door to the station wagon on our way to church or to a picture show on the school grounds. It was here that Dad came in from his chores and we knew that now we could eat.

After starting college, when I could return home, it was here--climbing these steps--that I knew I was finally home. The steps were chipped, not always clean in spite of my mother's efforts. Worn chore coats and sweatshirts hung from hooks behind the door. When home, I would take one and feel safe as I ventured outside to find my dad or just walk down the lane or from corn crib to tool shed--just to let it all sink in. Home...

I have lived in many houses in my 70 some years. If I could build a house all my own, it would be a replica of this old farm house. Home.

the Butterfly Effect

The BUTTERFLY EFFECT is a metaphor for how a small and insignificant behavior or happening can cause a major change in circumstances. [google ref]

It's hard to believe that a butterfly flapping its wings in New Mexico can ultimately cause a hurricane in China. Although it would take a very long time and the conditions would have to be right, some believe it's possible.

Today, I'm not talking about science, history, or the movie that Ashton Kutcher starred in, although these are each worth checking out. I am considering attributes like patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness...

You don't have to travel the world to make a difference. You don't have to stand on a street corner with Bible in hand to declare God's incredible love. Just be you in your own seemingly small and insignificant way--where you live, where you work--and reflect Christ love for others by being patient, kind, good, gentle, and, let's not leave out, faithful.

Just maybe you'll start a reaction that will be sweeping, extensive, pervasive.
Think of the joy!

Who knows what impact you may be making.

Let's be butterflies.

Rockin' the Boat Gently

I recently read, The cemetery is full of people who didn't rock the boat.

Don't rock the boat! implies.... don't make trouble, keep your mouth shut, don't mess with Pandora's Box. There's a certain amount of wisdom here; however, rockin' the boat, at times, gets things done, encourages transformation.

When Jesus began to reveal who He really was, He was rockin' the boat. When He healed on the Sabbath, the Pharisees called it blasphemy. When He ate with sinners and sought out the sick and needy, He caused political turmoil. Jesus allowed the boat to be rocked literally before He calmed the storm--with His disciples and him in the boat--possibly to get their attention. "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?"

The Fruits of the Spirit include love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Although these don't seem like "rock the boat" attributes, perhaps they are as we don't see much of any one of these in our world today.

We were each given unique gifts. Perhaps spreading joy, sharing peace, being patient during difficult times, using self-control when it would be easier to explode, and being faithful is your way of "rockin the boat."

I'm speculating that if I had to choose between two epithets,

She rocked the boat ...or... 

She didn't rock the boat, 

I would choose 

She Rocked the Boat --and let's add-- Gently.

Remembering Mom

I thought my mom would live forever. That's what most of us think until illness sets in and perceptions do a flip. My mother's birthday was yesterday. She would have been 94. Instead, she died several years ago at 85 of a very rare cancer.

Mom had always been the energy bunny in the family, the Martha in the kitchen. When she would come to visit, she would fold the clothes, help prepare a meal, shadow me from floor to floor and fill me in with the latest news of family and the community I came from while giving me a hand at whatever task I was at.

However, when death got it's grip, she quieted. She no longer had much to say. She sat in her favorite chair staring at the TV-- or was it the picture window behind the television where the trees twisted in the breeze and the birds flitted and twittered. She answered questions with a single word or a shrug. Her smile disappeared.

Being the active and chatty person who she was, I imagined that as she grew older and closer to dying that she would share memories of our growing up years, that she would give us words of wisdom that would help us going forward in our own lives, that she would tell each one of her children how much she cared for and loved us. Didn't happen....

She withdrew.
It hurt.
I didn't expect it.

I do not love her any less because of the way she left us.
I catch myself using her mannerisms, her expressions; she's somewhere inside me still.
Life is full of change and mystery.
God and His love is the only constant.
Stay close....

Working From Home Retirement

If it's possible at 70 years of age to be "working from home," I am; I, too, work at home. I'm also a stay-at-home mom and a stay-at-home grandma. I use the stay-at-home phrase loosely; although my children and grandchildren are not underfoot, they are always in my heart, on my mind, in my prayers. Can we call this multi-tasking?

After starting my teaching career, if someone had told me they "work at home," I would have thought you lucky girl, what do you do all day long? However, the world is full of change and mystery, and what we thought could never be, is, ... or at least takes on a new look. The internet, laptops, and smart phones have turned our social and work worlds upside down.

I can not determine where my personal world went haywire. Although I have been retired for nine years, I set the timer when I sit to read or write, so I can get up and attend to something else. I have friends who are looking for things to do, places to go... and I am wondering where things went whack-o for me. I am still working at home, working from home, being a stay-at-home mom and grandma and, even though multi-tasking, wondering how I am going to get it all done.

For example, the deck still needs its last coat of stain--a project I started a year ago. Business papers who have met their expiration dates and need to meet the shredder rest on the couch in the family room. The deep freeze needs defrosting, and, oh, yes, the water softener next to it is greedy for salt crystals. The second story windows haven't been washed since we moved in.... and I'm not saying what year that was. And, please don't mention the garden and its multitude of weeds.

I could go on, but you get the point.
God wants us to rest.
Yesterday, I did. Or, at least I did restful things--we went to church, we went to a movie, we finished the day by going to an ice cream social. I felt very relaxed and satisfied at the end of my Sunday. There was only one problem: I could NOT sleep. My body was not used to this relaxed state....

The only solution I can think of is to retire from working from home, retire from working at home.... and quit all this multi-tasking. The multi-tasking never was a very good idea. Parenthood and grand parenting stay on the list as heart issues and forever things.

In all reality for this to happen, I need to move a few blocks down the street to Apple Valley-- an assistive living home in a lovely setting. They mow the grass, do your laundry, cook your meals. I could play bridge, sit in front of the fireplace and watch a movie with the other residents, and wait for my children to take me out for ice cream. Sometime.... Somewhere....

Until then, I will stay here in my "somewhere" knowing that God has an eternal Somewhere that will be heavenly, restful, peaceful...... and try to more wisely discern my earthly priorities.

Now the LORD is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the LORD is, thee is freedom And we, who with unveiled faces, all reflect the LORD'S glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever increasing glory which comes from the LORD who is the Spirit. 
                                                                                                                             2 Corinthians 3:17-18

Once Upon a Time, I Lived in a Bubble

Once upon a time, I lived in a bubble. I faced whatever life handed me with confidence--due to a strong family support system and a bit of naivety. I thought my version of the world was everyone else's. Later in life, I discovered that friends and loved ones who I thought were as "secure" as I was had elephants in the living room, on the back steps, and out on their lawns--because shame is not shared. It's there; it exists; but, it is not shared.

As the years passed, I began to seek and understand the bigger pictures of relationship issues, abuse, financial stress, illness, and growing-older dilemmas. Friends and acquaintances, who hid things during their younger years, shared their stories. Was it because desperation set in? Were the repercussions of shame-based behaviors too much to handle alone? Was it because there was no where else to hide and no reason to do so anymore?

It has been said that everyone we meet in life, every experience we have, shape us into the person we become. This includes parents, siblings, spouse, friends, children, and those others we meet for short periods of our lives--some who we have connected with deeply and who leave forever imprints.

Maybe, what I didn't "get" before, I have a chance to get now. I mentioned to my fellow classmate, Lois, (reconnecting at a class reunion) that I felt a need to "make-new" --although I wasn't sure what I even meant. She replied, "I see your make-new as making better relationships from the incomplete scraps of the old ones. Maybe, polishing off the rust".

I like the phrases--incomplete scraps and polishing off the rust... Something incomplete can be completed, made new.

 Is not wisdom found among the aged?  Does not long life bring understanding? Job 12;12

Thank goodness, we have a Creator who understands all this and wants us to be connected. It's all a part of His great plan. It's all a part of being human.



In the same way, even though we are many individuals, Christ makes us one body and individuals who are connected to each other. Romans 12:5

The Word became flesh for the purpose of connecting....

               

Pillbox Hats and Nylon Stockings

When I was in 8th grade, I looked like a miniature of my mother. A flowered dress, scoop neck, hanging right below the kneecap. Black pumps, nylons with a seam up the back. A pillbox hat with net pulled over one half of my face, lips barely tinged with pink... both of us in the family station wagon on our way to church with a bunch of noisy boys.

Although feeling grownup, I also felt awkward. Wearing nylons meant wearing a girdle. I remember being concerned I would get a run in my hoes before getting to church and everyone, everyone would notice. A girl can only wear a girdle for so long, and then you get a belly ache. The net from the hat itched my nose and got caught in my eyelashes.

During the week, when at home, I wore what we called "chore clothes." .... patched jeans, worn-out shirts--everything had been washed until it was faded, soft, and comfortable. Our clothes were so worn, that I remember hiding when a neighbor or the Watkins man came to our door.

My mother, however, wore a house dress every day of the week. If a neighbor or the Watkins man happened at our door, she would take off her apron and be ready for company. She eventually bought a pair of pants to wear with her flowered shirts around the house and a couple of navy blue pant suits to wear to church.

It seems to me that there are no age-appropriate clothes anymore. Gals of every age wear leggings or tight jeans or flip flops. I remember my Grandmother Hulda wearing sensible, sturdy shoes. I don't believe she owned a pair of pants or slacks or anything with legs. Picturing either my mom or Grandma Hulda in leggings is laughable.



Life and what's in and what is out is ever changing, even, at times, wild and unpredictable. I don't think God really cares what we wear on the outside. It's what inside us that counts. He's looking for the kind of LOVE that God first gave us. Talk about comfort? It's all there, right there in his love.

Author John Rohn writes, "You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with."

I grew up with five brothers and my parents. I spent the most time with my mother and the littlest brother at the time--hanging out diapers on a clothes line, scooping baby food into an eager mouth, dusting, baking, weeding the garden, canning and freezing. Mom was almost always at my side or me at hers.

That was 60+ years ago.

During the last 45+ years I have lived with the same man and four of our children who survived various stages of life living under our roof as they evolved into purposeful, loving adults.

Because we were/ are each so different from one another, I can not begin to imagine how to determine the "averages".

As a freshman in college, I lived with a roommate who used expletives casually in her conversations. Within a month or so, these same words were slipping out of my mouth--

Huge segue here....

I was 18, then.
I'm 70+ now....
I know Who I need to spend more time with: Jesus.

Legos and Logos

If you've been around small children lately, you've seen them create with legos--plastic interlocking toy bricks. They come in various colors and sizes and a person can build cars, castles, flying ships, or anything else one's imagination inspires.


 



With Logos, an ancient Greek term for God's Word, one can build a life--more than anyone's imagination can conceive. God's Word is beyond science, beyond history. Although we may not see it today or tomorrow or in the next decade, the pieces will all fit because they're in God's hands--His perfect vision for your life, the Master Creator. While He's fitting the pieces together, you will not remain the same person. Think of the mystery!

Got Questions? God does, too.

As human beings on a spiritual journey, we are going to have questions. Lots of them...What do you want for lunch? Why did you get home so late? are not the kind of questions I'm thinking of.

Why do the innocent suffer?

How can human trafficking, politics without principles, 

       murder, rape occur in a world God created?

What is heaven like?....

These are the kind of questions I'm speaking of.

It is okay to ask God questions. God created us to be curious. In asking, we have the potential to develop a closer relationship to our Creator. And, also in asking, we hopefully learn to trust.

There are over 3000 questions asked in the Bible. The book of Job asks the most. In its 42 chapters, Job asks questions; his three friends ask questions of Job. However, my favorite part starts in Chapter 38 when the LORD finally speaks with His questions.

Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? .... 

Who shut up the sea behind the doors?... 

Have you ever given orders to the morning? ....

Does the hawk take flight by your wisdom and spread his wings toward the south?

Does the eagle soar at your command and build his nest on high?

Possibly our questions are best answered by reading God's questions to Job....

GPS--God's Positioning System

Good Day, Sojourner.... continue your journey.

It's not as simple as you're born, you live, you die.

Because we were created by God, for God, we have built in compasses, the Holy Spirit, encouraging us to keep on the path to our God ordained destination.

A GPS is a Global Positioning System. We have one in our car and I appreciate it. My favorite button to press under "destination" is Go Home. In spite of our attempts to outguess it by getting out a map or stopping someone/anyone to ask for directions, our GPS has proved dependable.

I'd like to think of God as my own personal innate GPS. Unlike the car GPS, however, my life journey is not going to take me on a direct route. There may be ruts in the road, a tornado whirling overhead, the occasional flat tire, an engine that needs servicing, a gas tank that needs refilling, or the annoying backseat driver. The trip may at times feel like a never-ending roller coaster ride or at other times feel like being stuck in quick sand, unable to escape dire circumstances. God, however, is ultimately my "Go Home" destination. On the way, there will be times of sorrow, times of rejoicing, time of questioning, but it will be an adventure.

C.S. LEWIS writes The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing--to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from...my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for Home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.

Safe travels wherever today takes you; trust your own innate GPS, Christ within.

Track Season...Ready, Set, Go

Track is a little like life. In this sport, we know where the race starts and where the race ends. Life differs in that we know where we started, but the finish line remains a mystery.


With track, everything is laid out: the lanes, put one foot in front of the other, keep going, the finish line. No surprises here....

With life, there are no lanes painted on an all-weather track. We don't know what's around the curve or where the finish line lies. It seems to be more of a roller coaster ride--scary, adventurous, messy--to places we've never even imaged or wanted to.... Hurdles, stumbles, quicksand--and it goes on and on.

There is no end to the "ready, set, go".  A new job, another baby, a relationship challenge, a financial or health issue. There are periods of time when each morning seems a "ready, set, go."

The use of the word "go" is used many times in the Bible, from when the LORD said to Abram, "Go from your country, your people and your father's household to the land I will show you." To the verse in Matthew, "Go forth and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."

Some things don't change a lot. The sport of track being one of them.
Some things in life don't change a lot. From generation to generation to generation, it's been a "ready, set, go" kind of routine.

Someday, that will all change. There will be a finish line. A permanent finish line, a glorious finish line. Knowing that, let us remember Timothy's words, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."

                                         Ready, set, go...

Who? What? Where? Why? When? How Long?

There are over 3000 questions in the Bible? Beginning in Genesis when Satan asks Eve, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?" to Revelations where the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God..., cried out, "How long Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?"

Some of the questions, God asked. For example, when Elijah flees to Horeb and hides in a cave, God asked him, "What are you doing here, Elijah'?"

Poetic questions come from the book of Job, with God asking, "Who shut up the sea behind doors..., Where does darkness reside?....Have you entered the storehouses of the snow?"

On one occasion, an expert in the law asked Jesus, "What must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus responded with a question of His own, "What is written in the law? How do you read it?"

Who, what, where, why, when, how long....?

We ask questions at home, at work, with friends. We ask ourselves inside our private thoughts.

Ask and it shall be given to you; seek and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you... Matthew 7:7-8

Questions are okay. More than likely, it develops intimacy with God. Asking doesn't mean you'll get what you want. Maybe, it's what God wants for you. Maybe, he's telling you to be patient.

3000 some questions....

Do you know how many times in the Bible God tell us not to be afraid? According to my research, it is 365 times that He tells us, "Fear not." How may days in a year? Guess he made His point....

Ask your questions. But, also don't be afraid. It's in His hands.

Treasures in Jars of Clay

But now, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, and You our potter; And all of us are the work of Your hand. Isaiah 64:8

I have come to believe that our greatest treasures are within our hearts, minds, and souls. Since retirement, I have more opportunities to reflect. It gives me pleasure to remember ....

-our children eating fried chicken in a shady park with only a swing or two and a merry-go-round
-two of our daughters playing on the same basketball team
-a picture of our son under a rainbow
-a long ride with our first child, as a two year old, to meet her great grandmother
-David's pride with his first horse
-a family vacation

I used to not want to go back. Now, I do. Not to change anything. I just want to be a silent observer of some of these times and hold them close to my heart.

Further back, there are other memories....
-Mom's special lemon meringue pie made on two occasions (their anniversary and Dad's birthday)
-the tree house where my brothers and I made a chimney and a fireplace and a second story
-the humongous snow pile designed by my father's imagination and a tractor with a loader
-walking into a house filled with love and the smell of supper every day after school
-a blonde-haired, blue-eyed bf from second grade to forever
-a memorable "I love you."

There are the more recent memories of the birth of each grand child--little miracles with incredible journeys ahead. These memories all kind of mesh together until it feels like it was someone else's life. Or, it was mine.... and now, I'm someone else.

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with all these reflections. It seems that there is a reason my head is sometimes filled with them. There must be an explanation for not wanting to let them go. Perhaps they are all puzzle pieces and when all is said and done, the puzzle pieces will fit. Perfectly.

What lies behind us and what lies before us

 are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON

What Do You Believe to Be True About God?

During my younger years, "Do you believe in God?" seemed fundamental to any conversation about my faith. As the years have passed, scripture studies, various experiences, and my thoughts are more often of, What do you believe to be true about God?

When sharing a family meal with grandchildren, it is common for one of them to suggest conversation starters. This usually involves a question, such as, "What is your favorite color?" or a request, such as "Name some things that fly."

If you reword these same questions or requests with, "What do you believe to be true about the color blue?" and "What do you believe to be true about things that fly?" --the conversation takes a twist in deeper and broader thinking.

In high school, I once asked a boyfriend, "Do you believe in God?" I was flabbergasted when he said, "no." In my innocence, I thought everyone believed in God. He explained that he was agnostic. I was bewildered, not even knowing what the word meant.

He returned the question, "Do you?"

"Of course," I answered.

"Why?"

And, that's when I became silent. I believed because that was the way I was brought up. Our family got up every Sunday morning, dressed in our finest, iron-pressed clothes, and recently shined shoes, piled in the station wagon, and drove the 12 miles to church--rain, shine, or blizzard-- where we heard the Word of God.
How could I not believe?

Other believers do not grow up in the faith but come to it because of experiences, study of God's word, and/or a friend's gentle, loving, Godly persuasions.

Although my belief was always with me, I have come to view it differently because of experiences, the study of God's word, and hanging out with gentle, loving, Godly people.

And, so now, I want to ask my grandchildren and I want to ask you, What do you believe to be true about God?  What you believe to be true about God and who you increasingly believe God to be will expand your own insightfulness in who you believe yourself to be. Something to consider....

What do I believe to be true about God?
He is my Savior, my King, my Helper in time of need, my joy, the Creator, the Ancient of Times, The Beginning, The End, my Everything....

Hallelujah!

Who Are You?

In my most recent Beth Moore Bible study, "The Quest," Angela Duckworth writes:

Identity influences every aspect of our character, but it has special relevance to grit. Often, the critical gritty-or-not decisions we make--to get up one more time; to stick it out through this miserable, exhausting summer; to run five miles with our teammates when on our own we might only run three--are a matter of identity more than anything else. Often our passion and perseverance do not spring from a cold, calculating analysis of the costs and benefits of alternatives. Rather, the source of our strength is the person we know ourselves to be.

Beth Moore continues this thought by writing: For people of faith, our source of strength is far more impressive. It's who we know God to be. However, if we never connect His identity with ours, the pipeline built by the cross connecting us to divine power stays mostly clogged by unbelief.

When I think about my growing up years, my years in college, raising children, marriage, this all makes so much sense. I hope it does for you, too.

Changing Landscapes

Perhaps if we thought of time as running forward rather than running out, we could view the world differently. What we think as usual, may be captivating because we look with a different perspective.

For example, this morning, one could have viewed my world as dreary. Rain spilling from a murky sky with no where to go --the earth unaccepting, frozen, barren. But the view out my backyard window seemed almost comforting.

Pumpkins flattened, plants coated in seasonable colors, a diminished wooden palette, and water rushing from a nearby culvert. Dreary? I had left the pumpkins and plants for the deer and rabbits. The palette had served its purpose. Muted colors blended and ever moving--running forward.

I watched from my window as a pot roast burbled in the slow-cooker and witnessed the changes. In a few short minutes, rain turned to snow. Big white blobs. I wondered why any of us watch television or play games on our computers. Why not just look outside? God has provided an intriguing, changing landscape.

Considering our life's landscape, we may feel like nothing is happening, or all the wrong things are happening. ...And, time is running out. I didn't get that job I always wanted, or was it a vacation, or a soul mate, or....

We are on a timeline; no one lives forever; but, we are running forward, to a Kingdom--a Kingdom that is in the distance but also a Kingdom that is already present in each of us if we would but accept it. Knowing this, we can seek out the joy wherever we are, whatever the weather is like, whoever we are with--whatever the landscape.

If you don't think much happened in your life, reflect on it for a few minutes and realize how the plot has thickened. Some changes come quickly; some wished for don't come at all. Some changes are dramatic and not wanted. Some are subtle and we wonder about the mystery. This life (landscape) of yours will continue to be an adventure all your own. See it with different eyes running forward. Let God take your hand. Everything is easier when you have your best friend along for the journey.

A Long Ago Wedding and a New Discovering

My parents married January 13, 1946. I have always loved this picture, and, of course, focused on my mother's dress she made, my father's stylish suit, and the so-young look.

As I sit inside my house on this -10 degree day in the Midwest, I am reminded of how different a January day can be. My parents are outside, without coats.

It wasn't until a couple of years ago when I dug the picture out of a shoe box that I studied it more carefully--including Grandpa Harry's car, his house behind them, and noticed the figure framed by the kitchen window. Who was that?

I had heard that it was a very small wedding--just parents, a maid of honor, a best man, so I asked my oldest brother... who knows more of our family stories than anyone.

Well, Grandpa Harry was a widower.
The neighbor lady across the street had always had an interest in him.
She had not been invited to the wedding.
However, she did let herself in the front door porch, walked to the kitchen, and wondered where everyone was--
You can see her shading her eyes to get a good look.

I never met this lady, but hearing this story, I hope that eventually, Grandpa Harry asked her to take a walk, play a game of checkers, or sit on his front porch to share a story or two.

It reminds me of the importance of relationships at any age.

Freedom--and how to get it....

Now the LORD is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the LORD is, there is freedom....
2 Corinthians 3:17-18

I have had some issues with feeling free in my life. Growing up on a farm in the middle of virtually no where, I had no place to feel free but the grove surrounding our farm. Climbing an apple tree, playing in the treehouse, hiding out in the barn from any one of my five brothers each gave me an inkling of freedom.

While in college, under the burden of studying, working--even though off the farm which I now missed--there was little sense of freedom.

Responsibilities came on like ocean waves with a new teaching job, a marriage, and soon-to-come children. A sense of freedom was hard to come by....

So when I first read this verse from Corinthians, it, of course, caught my eye.

Now the LORD is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the LORD is, there is freedom....

How do I get this Spirit of the LORD?

I've determined that it is an on-going journey and not an easy one. It's not easy because we are all so human. All it takes is faith and trust in an awesome God, so it seems simple; but somehow our lives and others intermingle and we make a mess of things.

I have also determined that the on-going struggle to be where the Spirit of the LORD is is worth it. It's not only worth it, it is essential to life. Plus, there are blessings....

...And, we who with unveiled faces, all reflect the LORD'S glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever increasing glory, which comes from the LORD who is the Spirit.
2 Corinthians 3:17-18

Being transformed into HIS likeness? Sounds miraculous, and, yet, He who is capable of any miracle has promised us this. There is a freedom that surpasses any earthly sense of freedom.

If this hasn't made much sense yet, let me simply tell you that reading the Bible, having an active prayer life, and an awareness of God's presence and guidance allows you to be where the Spirit of the LORD is. In this presence, you will feel as free as one possibly can as long as we call ourselves earthlings.