Hardships or ____

Our writers' group once assigned--

"Something Learned From a Hardship." 

 

 My first thoughts were --

I've had an easy life; 

I have nothing to write about.  

 

However, while walking our country road
the following morning, I came up with some personal hardships: enough to fill a page. 

*When growing up on our family farm, a brother gave permission to a friend of his to ride my new bike. It came back dusty and dented.
*A Christmas doll whose once perfect complexion was forever pitted by Ajax by a younger brother who wanted to make sure she was "clean."
*A high school coach with killer workouts, and my mother protesting that I would not be able to have children because of them.
*A college freshman history course with a failed first test.
*My first year of teaching and the terror I felt for weeks.
        . . .  and, of course, . . .
*Marriage and children were a mixed basket of trials and blessings including the occasional worry of not being able to pay the bills, two children in a car accident, and in our more mature years learning to deal with serious health issues.

You get the picture. What was I thinking?

Truth be known is that when our darkness is real, it becomes a place for growth and an ah-ah moment or two. We each suffer from broken-ness in the little and big things of life. It seems that when I'm down and out, this is the time, I really start to figure things out. Our little lives are part of the big world. God's world. His determined love works in every situation and relationship. Allow God to heal your heart and keep on the journey. It's your journey. Honor it.

 

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

Psalm 147:3



 

Rain and Vulnerability

It's raining out. A nice soft rain, and, yet bearing down pretty good. I start my daily devotions/Bible study, but I want to watch the rain. I open the patio deck and let the cool air and wetness come in. What is it about rain that makes me melancholy? What is it about rain that causes me to be reflective?

My mind takes me back. I wish I had been nicer to my mother during my teen-aged years. I wish I had spent more time walking about the farm with my dad and listening to his musing. I wish I hadn't hit my little brother in the head with a bat. (We always played "first bat" after dinner every day, and he was in my way.... ;-(... he grew up and became an archeologist, so I guess his brain is okay). I wish I had made better decisions to do something productive during my college summers instead of sitting around and thinking about how lonely I was.... And, of course, marriage and the parenting years have all kinds of "I wishes"-- more vacations with kids, teaching them to be good at serving others, volunteering.

But, here, I sit with the rain falling. I can't change anything that happened, but I can think about it differently. In that...

Drip down, O heavens, from above, And let the clouds pour down righteousness; Let the earth open up and salvation bear fruit, And righteousness spring up with it. I, the LORD, have created it. Isaiah 45:8

It seems that rain comes most often in the Bible bearing good things. Maybe the melancholy, musings, reflections are helpful in re-establishing my priorities on this journey. What I've done (the good and not-so-good), where I want to be headed...

Something to think about....

It Takes Only One...

"They built a siege ramp up to the city... while they were battering the wall to bring it down, a wise woman called . . .

 Listen! Listen! ...

You are trying to destroy a city

that is a mother in Israel. Why ...?  

Due to one woman's wisdom, foresight, and courage, an entire city was spared. She became more than a spectator, stepped forward, and made a plan. We do not know her name, and, yet, her story has been recorded in forever history.

Have a Bible?

Check out the whole story. 
 2 Samuel 20:14-21.

Consider Rahab who hid spies, Ruth who stayed loyal to her mother-in-law, Mary the mother of Jesus, the unknown woman with the alabaster jar who poured perfume on Jesus' head, Dorcas, a disciple, who did good and helped the poor. Lydia, a dealer in purple, known for her hospitality and her belief.

Each of these did not need a following, a group/committee/organization, to do what they felt needed to be done.

How often have I NOT done something because I thought, I am only one. I can not make a difference.

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity,

 but a spirit of power,

of love and of self-discipline.   

 2 Timothy 1:3

 Reach out.
Love God.
Love your fellow man...
And, don't wait....

 It only takes one.

I Didn't Want to Go to Hell...

I grew up in the era that if one went to a Christian or Catholic church, the minister talked of hell and the possibility of going there.

Not wanting to go to hell kept me in line in lots of way.

If something was "fun," it was very possible it was not a good thing.

In fact, my confirmation verse, from 1 Peter 5:8, Be sober, be vigilant, your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour... reminded me of this.

Once upon a time, my parents took a vacation with my younger brothers, and left my one-year-older-than-me-brother and I at home to do the chores, etc.  My older brother, who apparently had a different confirmation verse than mine, took the liberty to have a party out on our front lawn on that Friday summer night drinking stuff out of brown bottles. I looked apprehensively from the kitchen window the entire time--certain that roaring lion was out there and ready to devour us. Him, for planning it. Me, for allowing it to happen.

On another occasion, a friend picked me up, and we drove to a drive-in theater. The car was full of girls. Some decided to hide in the trunk so they would not have to pay to get in.... again, I imagined that roaring line pouncing on the car and devouring us all

I must admit that I am not afraid of going to hell anymore and haven't been for some time.
I am assured that I will not and, believe me, it's not because of anything that I have done, or not done. It's not because of who I was or who I am turning out to be.
I am assured of heaven because of who God is.

No doubt, big brother (and all the little bros) and I will have a lot to talk about in heaven some day.

  

And a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness; it will be for those who walk on that Way. The unclean will not journey on it; wicked fools will not go about on it. No lion will be there, nor any ravenous beast; they will not be found there...Gladness and joy will overtake them; and sorrow and sighing will flee away. Isaiah 35:8-10












Wishing you happy thoughts this week as you continue your journey...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Talking to Yourself?

Some of us talk to ourselves; okay, most of us do. Have you listened to yourself lately? It happens more than you think. It may be inside your head; it may be a noticeably bantering conversation as you walk down the hall back to your work space.

Most of my inside chatter happens when I awake during the middle of the night and wonder why I'm awake in the middle of the night.

This is how it works: For heaven's sake, it's only 2:30. What are you doing? Well, okay, if I can't go back to sleep, I'll consider what I did or didn't do yesterday.... And, just how did that work out for you, Kathy? ....Let me see, tomorrow? Oh yes, this is what I need to do tomorrow.... If I don't fall back asleep, the inside chatter gets less mundane. Things from the past come tumbling into my head and I ask myself, Why did you do that? What were you thinking? Of course, I try to defend myself. It's only natural to do so....

Because this endless chatter sometimes gets nasty, I say to myself, Stop. Don't do this to yourself. This is not positive stuff.

I've tried to stop the negative inside chatter by filling my head with prayers for others, a hymn from my memory. Lately, I've been saying the alphabet and listing something to give praise for with each letter. It is more interesting than counting sheep. Baa!...

It has been said that how a person thinks is how she is.
Scary? Thought about your thoughts lately? Your inside chatter?
Why not talk to God? The Creator of the Universe is right there--just waiting to hear from you. And, isn't that awesome.
He can more than likely take care of those things you think about so much.
Forget the sheep... Try counting blessings and turning your inside chatter over to God.

Shame On You...and Becoming Unglued.

In the book, UNGLUED, the writer, Lysa Terkeurst, tells of getting an email with the first line, "Shame on you." .... More than likely if you communicate with email or social media, you've been offended in some way at one time or another.

Before my last book was published, I received a scathing email from another author, who had agreed to read my manuscript. She shamed me because my font was not right, my subject line was not right, and that it basically would end up in the to-be-ditched file post haste simply because of these little things that I should know better about by this time. I felt stupid, inadequate, and wished I had never shared it with her.

Our first reaction when persons hit us with harsh communication is to explode, be offended, strike back. However, if we take a deep breath, we know there is a better way. From Ephesians 4:29, I read this morning, "Do not let anything unwholesome come out of my mouth, {or from my fingertips while at my computer} but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen." 

Lisa, from UNGLUED, came up with a three-point response which I want to share:

1) Begin by honoring the offender. Okay, I know this is going to be hard. You don't have to honor the person's words; honor the person. Every one of us has something good...As in, it sounds like you're very upset because of....
2) Keep your response short and full of grace. If you'd like to discuss some better ways we can resolve this...
3) End by extending compassion. Chances are the person is hurting for reasons that have nothing to do with this situation. We can work this out.... have a good day...
*Also, remember not every harsh email needs a response; sometimes, it's best to just let it pass.

Lisa calls this method HOLY RESTRAINT and goes on to explain that it is the fruit that produces self-control. Cool! We could all use a dose of this once in a while.

I wrote back to the author to apologize for the inconvenience of a too-small font, etc. and offered to pay for the "ream" of paper she used to run off the manuscript. I tried to use nice words; it was difficult. She ended up writing an apology for her own words. Just maybe, she had had a bad day, maybe she wasn't feeling well. I felt a lot better putting my better foot forward than I would have if I had responded like I first wanted to....

Blessings on your journey.
Say something sweet today.... to someone who needs to hear it.

Retirement? Eat my dust....

Beginning retirement.....

It arrived in the Mail--"Social Security--What You Need To Know. . . "
And, somewhat later--"Welcome to Medicare" and "Medicare Basics."

.... Well that was several years ago, and we're still figuring out  what we need to know about spending our retirement days.

.... Since retirement, I can't do much of anything without my glasses, my hair is more gray...we have moved off an acreage, adjusted to life in a small community, and last week, for the first time, we played cards at a senior citizen center. Oh my goodness, I thought I would wait until I was 80 to do this.... and there I was. 

At 48 years of age (over 20 years ago), I tore this full page advertisement out of a magazine and attached it to the refrigerator with a magnet.  I was still busy with my children's school activities and work, but I had visions of Father Time "eating my dust."

YOU WANTED TO SEE THE WORLD...
BUT AT 8, YOU COULD NOT LEAVE THE YARD...
AT 16, YOU HAD NO CAR...
AT 21, YOU HAD NO MONEY...
AT 34, YOU HAD NO BABYSITTER...
AT 54, FATHER TIME TELLS YOU IT'S TOO LATE....
AND YOU TELL HIM TO EAT YOUR DUST...
     1995 ad for GinkGold

 

Well, Father Time is not exactly eating my dust, as I'm not running anywhere-- because I don't want to hurt myself. Okay, I'll ride an exercise bike and swim, but don't ask me to run.



HOWEVER, Did you know....

 ... that Daniel was 90 years old when he was sent to the lion's den?

At 100, Grandma Moses was painting.

At 93, George Bernard Shaw wrote Farfetched Fables.

At 89, Albert Schweitzer headed a hospital in Africa.

At 82, Winston Churchill wrote a History of English Speaking People.

At 80, George Burns won an Academy Award for his performance in The Sunshine Boys.

Look around your community.  

Retirees are leading Bible studies, 

working for food banks,

volunteering at Habitat for Humanity, 

staying active with their grandchildren's lives 

and making a difference in many ways.

 

 


 Even though we are the generation who knew about Studebakers, wash tub ringers, metal ice trays with levers, 45 RPM records, Howdy Doody, and other odd and curious things, we have a lot to offer. You don't have to "run" when you tell Father Time to "eat your dust." Simply, figure out your passion and go for it. And, if you don't know what your passion is, just keep busy....there are others out there who need you.

 

Dear Lord, 
No matter what my age
or circumstances,
let me accept the grace and peace
that You offer on a daily basis.
Give me a renewed sense of energy
and help me not to be afraid of
trying new things.
You are the giver of all things good, and
You provide peace when I trust your promises.  

                                                 Amen