Inside Every Woman

Inside every woman is an adult and a child.

They need to get to know each other.

 

 

Can you even remember being a little girl and what is was like?

At a recent talk given by Gail Kittleson, she quoted the above....

 

 Inside every woman is an adult and a child.

They need to get to know each other.

 

We often get so busy with our own family, working, and trying to survive, that we lose ourselves. We become an extension of others and and their needs and forget who we really are, our potential, and as we grow older--who we really were.

 

Does it matter?

Something to think about:

We viewed responsibility with enthusiasm....


We often thought work was fun?


 

We just didn't just "feed" the chickens, we played with the chickens...

and sometimes, their eggs...

 



 

We were proud of what we had (usually what Mom made)....

 









 

.... and looked forward to our birthdays!

(When's the last time you did that?)

 

We acted spontaneouly...

We found JOY in every day things...

We worried less...

We felt connected to nature and animals...

We let things happen--rather than tried to make things happen...

 

 

As a retired woman, now a grandmother, I aim to try to take time to breathe, take time to play, take time to be the unique person God created me to be without fear of what others may think or want me to do. And, I want to remember what it was like to be a little girl. Because, she is still a part of me.

 

Know that the Lord is God!

It is He who made us

and we are His;

we are His people and the sheep

of His pasture.

Psalms 100:3

 

 

Fear not for I have redemmed you;

I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

        Isaiah 43: 1

 

 

Think about the "little girl" you were...

The little girl who is still inside you....

And what it means for you today..

And give praise to the God of the universe who loves you with incredible love.

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

Happy 99th Birthday, Dad.

Fear not for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned, the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord, your God.   Isaiah 43: 1-3




My Dad celebrated his 99th birthday this past Sunday. He is the youngest of six children and the only one to graduate high school in his family.



Dad with me and two of my five brothers...1951

He served in WW II, came home with the Silver Star and Purple Heart, started a family, farmed, started a tiling business in his 60s, was active in church and school board. Although ten years younger, his wife, my mother, passed away several years ago of a rare cancer. He cared for her on a daily basis until her death.

Currently, Dad is wheel-chair bound due to pain in his legs. He can converse about almost anything and enjoys good conversation. He wants to live to be 100!



Dad and me--is it possible our shoes are the same?

I

As the years have passed,

I've realized that Dad and I have a lot in common--

a love of the outdoors,

an appreciation for farm work,

unconditional family love,

and a faith in the God of the universe.

 

 

Our country lane--lined by cornfields...

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; ...

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; ...a time to embrace, ...a time to keep, and a time to cast away; ... a time to keep silence, and a time to speak...A time to love....

    Ecclesiastes

Since Dad's move to the nursing home, I have noted other parents and grandparents and have determined that many are lonely and in need of companionship.

So, in my blog this week

 and in honor of my own father,

I want to encourage you to reach out to those

(today, this week, don't wait!)

who are aged or aging

and in need of a smile,

a conversation,

a touch,

or a prayer.

 

and always give thanks...

Alpha Writer's Poetry

My 2013 copy of Lyrical Iowa finally arrived.
Since I have not been able to attend Alpha Writers
for months, I was anxious to see what was
published.

Out of almost 2,000 entries, 368 were chosen
for reading enjoyment. I'm delighted to
tell you that the seven that follow are from
Mitchell County,the Alpha Writer's group.

I've included pictures.
Enjoy.



MY DAD
When I was just a little girl
perhaps just barely three,
I loved to crawl up on Dad's lap
and have him read to me.
I still feel his sturdy arms
hug me as he read
my well-worn favorite story book
before I went to bed.
I could recite it word for word.
Eyes twinkling, Dad would tease
by changing or omitting words,
adding an extra squeeze.
I'd kiss and nuzzle his whiskered face,
inspect each over-all pocket,
to discover a secret treasure
we would talk about.
Dad would sing me silly songs,
listen to my bedtime prayer,
bless with me a goodnight kiss,
then tuck me in with love and prayer.
     Dorcas Dorow

PROGRESS....

Legs crippled with toil and time, he sits

Head to one side--glasses askew

And watches his mother walk out of the cornfield

With senses revived, he remembers more

A wife--brown hair lifted by the breeze

Cleaning sweet corn on the front lawn

Giggling from the grove

Hammer rat-a-tat-tat--with a vision of a tree house

A thunder boom--a blessing of rain

Children running barefoot through puddles

Rhubarb pie warm from the oven

Pulling weeds from the garden

Plucking apples from the trees

Laughter in the lane at the end of a school day...

The old house he was born in

The house his children were raised in

Sits now with toppling ceilings and wasted walls

Surrounded by brush and debris

Waiting for a singular match

          Kathleen Stauffer

 

 

 

               

it's happening
sun shines
mud dries...

birds sing
wind howls
dead wood falls
snow shrinks
puddles form
on His day of rest
       Mary Fisk
r

                  At Dusk

 

The old man

jabs the

smoldering leaves.

He spits.

Brown saliva

fuels the flames.

He leans into the rake,

remembers his Lois,

talks to the fire.

 

She loved

rakin' days best.

helped when she

was able.

Things ain't the

same now on

these rakin' days.

He spits again,

swipes his chin

kicks the fire

and turns away.

     Ramona Morse

Dark veins of tall oak
Creep across new-fallen snow
As full moon rises
     Cathy Lee Simon

YELLOW

Cooling

Soothing

Refreshing lemonade

Springtime daffodils

Sunshine in sewing room

created by bright dandelion walls

Comforting backdrop for cozy bedroom

Pleasing touch with blue for a Swedish flag

Laughing A-line dress bursting into full skirt

Lifelong friend of gardens, lawns and swimmers

Youngsters puckering lips taste sour lemon juices

Revitalizing rhythms with other pastels in a tiny baby quilt

warming splashes across a dining room floor for sleepy dog

I am yellow

               Carol Sisterman

 

 

 

DROUGHT RELIEF

 

Dry, desert-like, dreary
The land yearns for a drink
Occasional sips barely keep it alive
In protest, cracks widen
Plants shrivel, wilt, die
Clouds of dust clog the senses
Rivers and lakes withdraw their teeming bounty
Prayers ascend to heaven with no response
Cries of agony fall on impotent ears
Promises of grace repeatedly broken
Dash hopes against parched hearts
Life-blood ebbs without the flow
Frustration, resignation the lot of many
Until nature relents in abundance
And the earth, at last, gets drunk on rain
     Margaret Smolik




RETIREMENT
Hating time clocks, night shifts, OT
I patiently waited to quit
Now that I have obtained freedom
I don't know what to do with it
                    Steven Thompson

Congratulations to the Iowa poets!

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *\

 

Something else to think about:

We write about our parents, our homes, nature and work.

Alfred Tennyson, English poet, called Job, a book in the Bible, "one of the greatest poems, whether of ancient or modern literature." It is filled with divine records of human philosophy, gropings of human wisdom and gems of spiritual truth.

Some things never change. We are still working on understanding God and ourselves and how we fit into His entire universal plan.

While vacationing recently, I penned another poem....

BROKEN
Late one night
Struggling to tug a morsel of joy from the gloom
She separates herself
Into pieces--
Events, relationships, perceptions--
The sun inches over the horizon
As she understands
The pieces no longer fit.
A jigsaw
With a missing piece:
God.

Is it possible that nothing really "fits" without God?

Love Letters--from the past....

February is Valentines' month,
so the word "love" comes up
more often perhaps than on any other month....
The following are love letters--
but probably not what you are thinking of...







September, 1974

Dear Kara Kristin,

Your mommy and daddy are going through a very special period of their lives--watching their first little baby grow and change each day. Because you are not old enough to understand how precious you are to us, Mommy is writing this letter so that you can read it when you are older. Your cheeks are rosy pink and your bright blue eyes are a wonder . . .

Kara, at 6 - 8 months

October, 1978

Dear Rachel Kathleen,

Your first year has passed quickly. It seems impossible that in a year's time you could be walking all over, all the time, wanting to be independent, bringing books to us to read to you, enjoying big sister's antics . . . You have brought us a whole new world of joy and happiness and are your own little person . . .

Rachel -- just over 1 year old

March, 1980

Dear Jennifer Susanne,

A whole year of life with Jenny has passed at an incredible pace . . . You have eight teeth, say "bye-bye" and go after your snow-suit with zeal when the word "outside" is mentioned. You are a content baby who has filled our lives with happiness, fun and love. When Dad comes home you stretch out your arms and coax him to pick you up . . .

Jennifer--just over 1 year old

And, then, there were three.

October, 1984

Dear Isaac David,

Although you were named Isaac David after your dad and great grandfather, Mom refers to you as "man-child." You were bigger than the other babies in the hospital and more handsome. You don't cry easily, have big blue eyes, and pearly white teeth. I noticed the other day, however, that one of those little baby teeth has a chip. When it happened, I do not know . . .

Isaac--just over 1 year old

I wrote letters to our children as they were growing up--one a year as near to their birthdays as I could get. What they liked to eat, who their friends were, favorite classes in school, special occasions were included in a yearly letter, carefully folded, and inserted into an envelope with their name and date on the front.

In spite of the smiles on their faces, our children were not always happy children. Their mother was not always happy with them or for them.

But they were loved unconditionally,

and we thanked God each day

for the gift of each child.

Living is not easy.

Knowing that you are

loved makes it easier.

Over twenty years later, I tied ribbons around four letter packets--one packet for each child. Each packet contained eighteen "birthday" letters with stories from the past. They were delivered with the hope that childhood memories would come to life and that each child would remember anew how precious they were and are.

There was yet another letter in the packet--making it nineteen, instead of eighteen. A letter from Jesus. I discovered it in World Literature Crusade, typed it, and included in the letter packet for each child. It's a love letter as each of mine was.

It's a letter for you, too.

Dear Friend,

How are you? I just had to send you this letter to tell you how much I love and care about you. I saw you yesterday as you were walking with your friends. I waited all day long, hoping you would talk to Me, also. As evening drew near, I gave you a sunset to close your day and a cool breeze to rest you, and I waited . . .

I saw you fall asleep last night, and I longed to touch your brow, so I spilled moonlight upon your pillow and face. Again, I waited, wanting to rush down so we could talk. I have so many gifts for you.

You awakened late and rushed off for the day. You looked so sad, so alone. It makes my heart ache because I understand. I try to tell you in the quiet green grass; I whisper it in the leaves and trees, breathe it in the colors of the flowers. I shout it to you in the mountain streams, and give the birds love songs to sing. I clothe you with sunshine and perfume the air. My love for you is deeper than oceans and bigger than the biggest want or need you have.

We will spend eternity together in heaven. I know how hard it is on this earth. I really know because I was there, and I want to help you. My Father wants to help you, too. He's that way, you know. Just call Me, ask Me, talk to Me; it is your decision. I have chosen you, and because of this, I will wait. . . Because I love you.

Jesus

If you want to read more

about God's love for you,

read scripture.

DAILY.

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. Psalm 119:105

Psalm 19: 7 reads "The teaching of the Lord is perfect and revives the soul.. . "

If we neglect the Bible, we can not

expect to benefit from the wisdom

and direction that result from

knowing God's word.

Vonette Bright

Heavenly Father, You loved me before I was born; You sent your Son Jesus Christ to redeem me from my sins. You have given me the gift of eternal life. I praise you for the gift of life. May I be worthy to serve you. May I reflect your love to others.

Amen

The Other Side

My mother, Marjorie, passed away four years ago of a rare cancer.
She and Dad had been married for over 60 years.
Dad moved into assistive living and eventually into the nursing home.
Their wedding anniversary would have been January 13th.
I wrote this poem with thoughts of them.



Marjorie, my mother...

The Other Side

Studying the family portrait on your apartment wall
You eventually slip on your jacket
Shuffle to the checkout desk
Scrawl your name beside the time
And venture out into the sunshine.
Putzing off in your bright red scooter
We watch the birds scatter
And wild grasses bend with the wind
As I sail behind you.
At the cemetery you find my spot
Finger the still fresh flowers
And wipe your eyes with the red hanky from your back pocket.
I stay beside you as you hobble back to the scooter
And watch for traffic as you return to your new home,
Sit on the worn couch
Take a deep breath
and fall asleep.
I watch the rise and fall of your chest
and hold your hand.

Dad and Mom with their children at Dad's 90th birthday party.

 

 

Dad will be 99 in March.

Another story.....

 

 

 

 For if we live, we live to the Lord,

and if we die, we die to the Lord.

So then, whether we live

or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. 

      Romans 14:8

 



Christmas Cards? What Do You Do With Them?

Merry Christmas from our House to Yours

Due to email, facebook,
 technology,
the Christmas card--
like so many things--
may become a thing
of the past.

However, we all get a few of them,
and I have wondered over the years
what to do with them.

Greetings!

Family pictures were taken,
envelopes carefully addressed
and then slipped into the mailbox
with me in mind.



Thinking of you on a white Christmas....



I used to quickly read each and
stash it in a Christmasy basket.
It was a nice look during the season.
When removing the holiday decorations,
I would re-read each, study the pictures...

Wishing you happiness ....

...and then tape them together in a bundle
to be pulled out the following year
as reminders as to whom to send cards to.



Eventually, after several years,
they were lovingly tossed.







Today, while doing early morning devotions at the dining room table,
this year's stack of cards kept catching my eye.

Can't Wait To See You At Christmas!

 Finishing my devotions, a new idea occurred.

Why not keep the cards at bedside year around?

I could pull one from the top of the stack

and include this family in my nightly prayers.

It would then go to the bottom with a new card

on top to be prayed

for the following evening.

 

I understand that parts of my life
have not been easy.
I understand that this must
be true for most of us.
Life is a series of hills and valleys.







On the mountain top, everything seems clear and maybe even, do we dare to think--perfect?
Then, there are times when we feel like we're lost and alone--in a valley we cannot escape from, a cave with no exit, a cage we are trapped in.

A Christmas note.....of loss

With each card in hand,
I can pray
that you be
persistent in your faith,
that God will provide you strength
 and grace to go on, and
that you may evem experience
 joy in moments of frustration
and sorrow because you understand
the God of the universe
is there beside you--
and that is enough.

Christmas Joy!



Prayers for you

 and may your

CHRISTMAS JOYS

(and cards)

last all year long.

 

 

****************



The New Year and Resolutions



Early 20th Century New Year's Resolution Postcard

 

Happy New Year ....

It is 2014

and with “new years,”

some of us make resolutions...

or used to...

 

A recent study showed that 88% of those

who make New Year’s Resolutions fail.

****

A New Year’s Resolution is when someone makes a promise or sets a goal for herself. It usually involves an act of self-improvement.

 

Examples of New Year’s Resolutions might be:

*Lose weight, eat healthy/nutritious meals, exercise

*Think positively, laugh more

*Get a raise, get a better job

*Take a trip, take a class,

make new friends, spend more time with family...

 

 

 

 

You will note that each of these

involves making a CHANGE.

And, with these changes...

are we hoping to be more happy?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Serenity Prayer reads...

God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed. Courage to change the things which should be changed and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other. Living one day at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace. Taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it. Trusting that You will make all things right. If I surrender to Your will, so that I may be reasonably happy in this life. And supremely happy with you forever in the next.

In reflecting upon my own past New Year’s Resolutions, I have noted that they were all about me. Did I think that having a more nutritional diet would make me happier? Did I really believe that finishing some of my projects would make me more content? Maybe, momentarily. I have discovered, however, that I am most happy when I am at peace, and that this is a spiritual gift from God—not anything I can attain on my own.

 

 

So this year—yes ,I will try to exercise more, spend more time with our grandchildren, etc. However, I have a new resolution that is less about me and more about others: I want to slow down, connect  with those I meet in passing and give a helping hand whenever I can—whether it be a listening ear, running an errand for another, or really listening to a child’s chatter without being in a hurry.

To do any of this effectively, I must invite Jesus to rule over my heart so that we can work together to do the work he would choose for me to do.

Did you read the last line

of the early 20th century post card

at the top of the blog?

Dear Lord, let me find contentment and balance. Let your priorities be my priorities. And when I have done my best, give me the wisdom to place my child-like faith and trust in you.

                                                                                                                     Amen

Happy New Year ... Giving God the glory.