tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71969842668108480232024-02-20T02:00:15.963-05:00Forever HisRamblings from my heart to yours...to give you hope and encouragement as we travel this road together called Life. I'm so glad you have come along!Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.comBlogger135125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-35096586999713389612023-09-22T16:24:00.005-04:002023-09-22T20:51:48.335-04:00Enduring the Burden and Gift of Living<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKQZrVruHtYjbEqS94Xqn3dgLSyE0VDSMo1pNMAWWkbSUSRMIfORGXPvPicXvsaNi6Ft9Ziz3Zzb43gvARGVb2XMiysRzMusQzKqsoyhUCTgHXtkvX4a5RSsD7P6iqX0jfEa7l3zLoblzSFGc00SzrsiZen2kj5VCST474_CwCNWGI8oyVJIOOt4bEoIy/s1920/1920-tranquil-seascape-at-dusk-waves-crash-on-rocks-generated-by-ai.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1097" data-original-width="1920" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKQZrVruHtYjbEqS94Xqn3dgLSyE0VDSMo1pNMAWWkbSUSRMIfORGXPvPicXvsaNi6Ft9Ziz3Zzb43gvARGVb2XMiysRzMusQzKqsoyhUCTgHXtkvX4a5RSsD7P6iqX0jfEa7l3zLoblzSFGc00SzrsiZen2kj5VCST474_CwCNWGI8oyVJIOOt4bEoIy/w400-h229/1920-tranquil-seascape-at-dusk-waves-crash-on-rocks-generated-by-ai.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><i>What's the bravest thing you ever did?</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Getting up this morning.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;">Cormac McCarthy, <i>The Road</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Be honest now, have you ever felt like this? </i>I have...for many, many years. As a matter of fact, it's hard for me to remember a time when I haven't felt like this...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">You see for years I have dealt with anxiety and depression, stealthy enemies that crept in and smothered my emotions and thoughts with fear and doubt. Too ashamed to talk about it, I did all I could to ignore and overcome them. My heart cry during that time was, </span><span style="text-align: left;"><i>I can’t find my way home </i>so I labeled this season, <i>The Dark Night of My Soul, </i>though really it should’ve been, <i>The Dark Days and Night</i></span><span style="font-style: italic; text-align: left;">s</span><b style="font-style: italic; text-align: left;"> </b><span style="text-align: left;"><i>of My Soul.</i></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">During those years I carried guilt. What was wrong with me? I had so much to be thankful for! A beautiful home, a loving husband, kids and grandkids that brought joy, gardens, books, you name it, they were all a part of my life. But in the midst of all of the blessings there was always a knife, poised and ready to puncture a hole in any happiness or joy that dared to creep in. So I learned to dance very quickly, attempting to keep one step ahead of the despair and darkness. But at some point every dance becomes exhausting and you have to stop and rest. And that’s when I decided it was time to find my way home or I couldn’t go on.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">There was a mantra that I would repeat to myself over and over again every day, </span><i style="text-align: left;">Just do the next thing.</i><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">Whether it was getting out of bed, walking through the bedroom door, taking the dog out, throwing in the laundry, there were many options of</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><i style="text-align: left;">next things...</i><span style="text-align: left;">things that made me feel I was alive and that there was a reason to go on living. But the journey looked long and hard and wearying. How long, Oh Lord...please, please meet me in the pain.</span></p><p>Why am I sharing this? Definitely not because I like to be vulnerable. But because I think there are others out there who are in the same situation and could use a word of hope. Like an infant starving for its bottle, arms flailing, frantic to find nourishment, we all want to be at rest and at home, not only in our own selves, but in the arms of the one Who loves us and is greater than anything we are experiencing.</p><p><span>So now is where I tell you about a book I recently discovered...a book that I wish I had years ago, though God knows it wasn't even written until this year: </span><b><i>On Getting Out of Bed, </i></b>‘<i>The Burden and Gift of Living</i>’ by<i> Allen Noble. </i>When I first saw it at Barnes and Noble I admit I thought, <i>"How can any book so small be valuable? The answers I need would be contained in a tome of at least a thousand pages."</i> So I walked away and left it there. When I got home it haunted me, so I looked it up online and read the reviews. And parts of the book. And I <i>knew.</i>..I knew it was the answer to my heart's cries all these years. It couldn't come in fast enough!</p><p>The book begins with two facts: First, that <i>life IS hard.</i> It can be so painful and monotonous and empty that we cannot begin to comprehend it until we are right in the middle of it and even then it doesn’t make sense. Human existence inescapably involves suffering. This suffering is the normal experience of being in this world. Beauty and love and joy are normal too, but so is suffering. In a strange sort of way that brought me comfort, knowing that what I was feeling was normal!</p><p>Secondly,<i> our being in the world counts for something</i>…our choosing to get out of bed day after day after day says something…to ourselves and those watching us.<i> It says that we are valuable, that our lives are valuable, that we are good because God declared it, </i>even when it’s hard to go on, even when life doesn't feel good, even when goodness seems unimaginable. The bottom line is, <i>life is valuable because God created it. You are valuable because God created you. </i>A<i>nd all He does is Good.</i> We are not mistakes! Through our suffering and perseverance, through our rising and falling, choosing to trust Him one choice, one day, one action at a time, we testify to others there is value to living. No matter what.</p><p>Is life easy? I wish. At times it can be unbearably hard. The older I get the more I realize that I don’t have answers. I used to think I did…for everything. Once I knocked up against the truth that I can’t live my life on my own, that I desperately need not only a Savior but a Helper to guide me, it became normal and okay to be needy. And accepting that truth, along with my imperfections and weaknesses gives me the courage every day to wake up and turn to Him as my <i>only </i>Hope. This may seem weak, but really it’s empowering. Empowering enough to give me the courage to get out of bed one day at a time, acknowledging that He, and His Word and His Power have never failed. Never have. Never will.</p><p>I wish I could give you all the wisdom and truth of this book in my measly blog. But I can’t because it’s a story God needs to write on each of our hearts as He teaches us more about Himself and who we are in Him. I’m not sure we ever truly live until we know those things, and even then we will spend a lifetime coming to understand them.</p><p>I need to finish...before I thought of putting all of these ramblings down in this blog I sat in my rocker, caressing two heavy round rocks that I had found when we were up in Maine recently. I brought them home for the reason that they meant something to me, though at the time I’m not sure I understood what that was. One is a large wishing rock, dark on both ends with a wide, perfect, white line running around the middle. The other is a rock speckled with mica that glints in the sun. As I sat there rocking, I ran my hands running over them, feeling at peace. It was then that I realized that one of the reasons I chose those rocks was because of how well rounded and unique they were. I have always been fascinated by rounded rocks, softened sea glass, and polished shells and what it took to make them that way.</p><p>In that moment I heard the Holy Spirit whisper to me, ‘Your life is like these rocks. Your sufferings and trials and tribulations are rounding you out also, softening you, removing your rough edges. These rocks appeal to you because of what I have done in them. You can trust me to make something beautiful of your life, a work that will testify of my goodness, faithfulness, and love.’</p><p>So that is the gift I leave you with, my friends. The truth that no matter what we are going through, what our lives look like, He will work through it all and perfect that which concerns us. Because He is good. And He loves us. Forever and ever. Amen.</p><p>PS~ Get the book. You'll thank me for it. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvb0eEbvDr3IXKOYPuW6AaTFNT5T0-MiMEIjcXoRcIG-GfcWPqQKVRtTxP4RY95rc7Sx6IX7fge5zM--fdanL61xOvoymjRktyrDtn7jkL3Ic3y78F52_ileacwP_MoxWJmHJPpqX0t3ik5CmFFnVcKDMlOIxJcE4xHbLMp_UpaQzCMCbCHWOWl6BRG-it/s1026/EB923F68-6842-4272-A04F-6ED02FC33754.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1026" data-original-width="741" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvb0eEbvDr3IXKOYPuW6AaTFNT5T0-MiMEIjcXoRcIG-GfcWPqQKVRtTxP4RY95rc7Sx6IX7fge5zM--fdanL61xOvoymjRktyrDtn7jkL3Ic3y78F52_ileacwP_MoxWJmHJPpqX0t3ik5CmFFnVcKDMlOIxJcE4xHbLMp_UpaQzCMCbCHWOWl6BRG-it/s320/EB923F68-6842-4272-A04F-6ED02FC33754.jpeg" width="231" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-81073186743920828692023-06-20T16:36:00.003-04:002023-06-21T11:20:50.337-04:00Neither life nor death nor boat trips…<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VUNAoF4FW_IpACgu3SQG7UIwuA2u8TQs07jJHb-sP36jMg-FeXg2WqgSrA9QXJVIWnWp-wz8kDzfIBp_4_lP0iWLfAWQCEesZGpOi83BdYs0fSGqxfAM1_2TDho8l8mD4evWglbfoLIMQ_IMQK9JSEtFYT-hIlyPh1lkKwR6qIo-iV0352zJqjso436w/s4028/BD87F19B-3C28-405F-8D2B-66BA9A225444.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2568" data-original-width="4028" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VUNAoF4FW_IpACgu3SQG7UIwuA2u8TQs07jJHb-sP36jMg-FeXg2WqgSrA9QXJVIWnWp-wz8kDzfIBp_4_lP0iWLfAWQCEesZGpOi83BdYs0fSGqxfAM1_2TDho8l8mD4evWglbfoLIMQ_IMQK9JSEtFYT-hIlyPh1lkKwR6qIo-iV0352zJqjso436w/s320/BD87F19B-3C28-405F-8D2B-66BA9A225444.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">My husband and I are among the strange breed of people known as </span><i style="text-align: left;">Birders</i><span style="text-align: left;">. We like to watch birds, study birds, learn from them and especially feed them using all our hard earned money.</span></div><p>Most of our vacations/trips are based on birds. Where they are at that time and what’s there determine where we will go. It’s not everybody’s idea of fun but we love the camaraderie of birders and it gives us opportunities to bond, travel, and most times to have fun.</p><p>That’s why several months ago, with our 45th wedding anniversary coming up, I decided to purchase two tickets on a pelagic—a deep sea boating trip to spot birds…birds that often live, breed, and die out on the deep open ocean waters and can only be seen there—out of Hatteras on the Outer Banks of NC. I knew it would make my husband happy and it did. And I was glad it made him happy as it gave me a mite bit of trepidation. I swear he was born in the ocean, boat in one hand and fishing pole in the other. Me? Give me land or give me death.</p><p>So for months we planned, figuring that the better prepared we were, the easier things would go. This was a once-in-a-lifetime thing and by gosh, it was going to be perfect!</p><p>We pictured ourselves on the bow of the ship—think Titanic movie, which, btw, we have never seen—wind in our hair, arms outstretched embracing the wonder of it all, eyes lifted up to behold the rare birds hovering over our heads. We were laughing and life was good. </p><p>The reality? Hanging over the railing as we hurled whatever was in us into the deep blue sea. All day. ‘Keep your eyes on the horizon and you’ll be fine’ was a lie. When we watched <i>The Big Year </i>with Steve Martin and he found himself in the exact same nightmare, his arch-rival standing next to him saying, “Pitching and tossing, pitching and tossing” I thought it was hilarious. It’s not. Not in the least. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wjn_E4ypdRnDWxbxljolZFya_ysq0eM-wp2eeDkCFVLykCZbfua3lVxIXbKfysRJXyCeEG3yLm74Y5OXDi69W0hAkZg2ZOoK6v0ymmpVQFg4MVq4zma-vQHeLgw2A6eQu7VZwrmgfEK7MxS1wGV58lENWMKXzbDYn3fOVGDA-PFosPIYPN8P2--tYp62/s2355/A782E058-8AD2-4EA9-B6D8-A22519933D18.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2355" data-original-width="1897" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wjn_E4ypdRnDWxbxljolZFya_ysq0eM-wp2eeDkCFVLykCZbfua3lVxIXbKfysRJXyCeEG3yLm74Y5OXDi69W0hAkZg2ZOoK6v0ymmpVQFg4MVq4zma-vQHeLgw2A6eQu7VZwrmgfEK7MxS1wGV58lENWMKXzbDYn3fOVGDA-PFosPIYPN8P2--tYp62/w210-h261/A782E058-8AD2-4EA9-B6D8-A22519933D18.jpeg" width="210" /></a></div><p><i>Sea-sickness = the desire for death. </i>I went down for the count first…my sweet husband strong and well, fetching wet wipes and holding my hand as a lifeline….reminding me I needed to live for the sake of the kids and grandkids and the dogs. </p><p>For a brief, glorious moment, early in the trip, not yet at peak sickness, we sat together on the deck listening to calls going out for one rare bird after another- a White-tailed Tropicbird, Shearwaters and Jaegers, and Petrels, all life-birds for us. When not vomiting, I cheered and applauded along with everyone else. I may not have been at my best but I could still embrace the wonder.</p><p>At least until I turned to my pale, sweaty husband and realized he was going to faint, which he did, onto the deck floor. The rest of the trip he had a great relationship with the bottom rung of the railing.</p><p>At that point I realized that this was not going to end well. Whereas before he could be strong for me, now I needed to not only be strong for myself, but for him also. I could feel my blood sugar tanking (bad news for a diabetic who couldn’t hold anything down-water and meds included) and my prayers become urgent and passionate. All I had was Christ and at that point I sure hoped He would be enough.</p><p>By the time we were told, 8 hours into our trip, that we were finally returning to land…2.5 hours away…I wasn’t sure if I wanted to shout Hallelujah or throw myself over the railing. I took comfort from others who had been through the same thing and yet were alive to tell about it. I did not take comfort from those who for the entire trip stood at the railing, expensive cameras pointed to the sky, joking and laughing like it was the greatest day of their lives. Bless them.</p><p>Anyway, we survived. Once the boat docked, I wanted to bend down and kiss terra firma but my legs wouldn’t let me. I think I threw her a kiss instead. As we staggered back to the car and tried not to gag as we drove past the church fish fry we had hoped to attend, we went back to our cottage, wrapped ourselves up in blankets and went straight to bed. Different beds because my husband collapsed horizontally across the big one. Happy 45th Anniversary to us.</p><p>The next day found us sitting in the screened-in-porch, still unsteady, slowly sipping coffee, hoping the worst was over. By then I had had time to process what had happened and believe it or not I was happy. Definitely not for the way our anniversary went…I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. No, that I was alive. And my husband was alive. We were survivors, we had survived! Together! While my husband kept apologizing for the disaster, which I assured him was not his fault, I blew his mind by saying I’m glad it happened!</p><p>This trip made me realize…</p><p>1- What doesn’t kill you can make you stronger. When my husband sat next to me, holding me upright, wiping the vomit from my mouth, anchoring me with his hand and words of encouragement, I couldn’t have loved him more…not even if he took me to a 5 star Michelin restaurant. That my friends is love.</p><p>2- Marriage will never be a smooth ride. It can’t be. It’s made up of two sinners walking through a broken world together. There will be ups and downs, risings and fallings, tossings to and fro. But once you’ve made the commitment to board the boat and you’re in waters over your head, there’s no option to get off. </p><p>3- Marriage is also full of wonder and take-your-breath-away moments…children, pets, family parties and vacations, homes, gardens, things that you have heard and seen and done that have drawn you closer to one another and the heart of God. All freely given and gifts of greater value than anything you will ever buy…the deep purple color of the Gulf Stream, the intake of breath when seeing a rare bird, Flying Fish sparkling as they jumped over wave after wave. Priceless.</p><p>4- You can’t do marriage alone…you not only need others to cheer you on, you need God to give you grace and strength. Every. Single. Day. It’s His way or the highway. And trust me, it’s a rough road without Him. There was one man, Liam, on this trip who, on a previous trip, had spent his entire day at the railing. And he was supposed to be one of the guides! He took one look at us and chose to come alongside us…encourage us, make himself available to us…all because he wanted us to have a good trip in spite of the circumstances. Every marriage needs a Liam. And we need to be Liam to other marriages.</p><p>5- A circle of three is strong. Somewhere along the journey you realize that the hard times bond you together and the good times make that bond stronger. There is nothing that can take you down for the count because with God for us, who or what can come against us? I can’t tell you how many times when one of us has been weak, the other has been strong. And when both of us are weak? God will be our strength…a perfect picture of that boat trip. </p><p>6- After 45 years of marriage I would do it all again. And I don’t say this lightly as I now know what that means. Marriage costs. Dearly. It’s not for the faint of heart…the honeymoon is on a limited time basis and after that there is a long, long stretch of life…the beautiful and ugly…the heartbreaking and joyous…laughter, tears, anger, disappointment, boredom, and moments that take your breath away. But somewhere on the journey, you realize there’s nobody you would rather live life with. That be you, Ted.</p><p>I confess as I disembarked, I swore that I would never, ever be caught dead on another pelagic. </p><p>But then again, as I was leaving the boat, I heard someone say, ‘Go to Montego Bay in California. There are no waves… it’s smooth sailing and you’ll see all sorts of amazing birds and whales and marine life that you won’t see anywhere else.’</p><p>Hmmm…we’ve never been birding in California…</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-60400391197705428092023-05-09T11:24:00.010-04:002023-05-10T09:26:58.038-04:00What to do, what to do?<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDBLKyuxB5-7GNsqrdjSjgnyoAC1CHtMXY47FWpGrA1jF9pOu8Bs_abqX0_XKzWBM5Kte3_JiFZo-2rcIlNpdao8Xecs8syfLpXQl0y3GWQCPvU0U1Hb2JIuHTXFwUirYrknq0VwWy4Es3NntpZ8ETrfc33tIsROLx1KaUv_UaXpAOFcQVeWOMtq1yg/s7360/E85EAF6B-961A-4C25-819C-FC848140FA96.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4912" data-original-width="7360" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDBLKyuxB5-7GNsqrdjSjgnyoAC1CHtMXY47FWpGrA1jF9pOu8Bs_abqX0_XKzWBM5Kte3_JiFZo-2rcIlNpdao8Xecs8syfLpXQl0y3GWQCPvU0U1Hb2JIuHTXFwUirYrknq0VwWy4Es3NntpZ8ETrfc33tIsROLx1KaUv_UaXpAOFcQVeWOMtq1yg/s320/E85EAF6B-961A-4C25-819C-FC848140FA96.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Yesterday somebody asked what I thought about a situation. I know what I felt. But that doesn’t always end well.</p><p>I struggled all night thinking about it and praying about it and woke up this morning and realized the answer is, ‘It’s not about what I <i>think, </i>it’s about what God <i>says</i> about it.’ And that allowed me to let go and rest that I could trust God‘s Word to speak into the situation.</p><p>It’s been a while since I’ve read through Proverbs. It’s been a while since I have loved the Word. Struggling through Covid and depression for the last several years has made me feel as though I’ve been living in a bubble…one that has been hard to pop and get out of. But one day in church the questions were asked, <i>‘What do I love the most? Where do I invest my time and money and energy?’</i> And in that moment, the bubble burst and everything came into focus. With great sadness I realized that what I <i>should </i>love the most I do <i>not</i> love the most. And it grieved me. From that moment on, I set my mind to choose Christ, His Word, and time with Him as my priority. Was it easy? No, not at all. I hadn’t realized until then how a spirit of compromise and laziness and lukewarmness had entrapped me. Making any change for God is a battle against the world, the flesh and the devil.</p><p>Now it’s not like I haven’t read the Bible or didn’t know how to pray. The truth is, I had just stopped loving those things and desiring them. I had allowed other loves to take their place. But God, in His great mercy, knew that apart from these things I would not be set free to walk in light and life and joy again. Of all the choices I made, spending time in Proverbs has given me the greatest blessing. It’s provided me with all the tools I need to rise above this world…a veritable smorgasbord on how to think and live for God. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought, ‘<i>If I can just apply this to my life, I can walk in faith and hope and victory.’</i></p><p>It’s hard to make Godly choices, isn’t it? It’s hard to deny the flesh and do what God says. It costs us something. But sin cost Him everything. And He knows the destruction sin inflicts on us, our families, and others. And He loves us too much to leave us steeped in it. </p><p>I had a second revelation this morning that goes hand in hand with the first one: <i>We are only asked to speak His Truth in love. </i>What someone chooses to do with it is their choice. And if it’s rejected, they are not rejecting <i>us</i>, but <i>God</i>. Much as we wish we could, we can’t make people desire truth or walk in it. Some of us are called to plant seeds, some to water them, and some to harvest them. But each of us must do our part.</p><p>I need to confess that sometimes I am tempted to say, ‘<i>Heck, everyone else is doing it. Why even bother? God doesn’t seem to care.’ </i>We look around us and we see so much that doesn’t line up with what God asks of us…people doing what is right in their own eyes and seeming to get away with it. But just like the wheat and the tares, God allows the bad to grow with the good for a season. But do not be deceived, there will be a sorting someday. Like it or not, agree with it or not, we cannot ignore the truth: that in spite of what we feel, or see around us, or are tempted to do, we, as His children, are called to be a Holy people…bought at a great price… to live lives that honor God and testify of His amazing work in our lives. This is the hope we can offer to a lost and dying world. Otherwise we are no different than the world.</p><p>I haven’t written a blog in a long time. But I felt burdened to write this one. We all need each other desperately whether we realize it or not. We’re called to walk alongside one another, encourage one another, and challenge one another on in holiness. One day at a time.</p><p>One choice at a time.</p><p>One word at a time.</p><p>But under it all, is the mandate that we must love. We must love Him with our whole heart, soul, mind and strength, and we must love others. Love takes different forms and appears in different ways, but if we do it His way, it will be always be known as Love. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-8556502171290437092022-07-13T21:57:00.000-04:002022-07-13T21:57:26.645-04:00Knowing God<p>I’m sharing this from a FB post I put up. Since it’s so similar to a blog…albeit a mini one…I thought I’d put it here also. And yes, I have a real blog in the works…😉</p><p>************</p><p>Question- Suppose we who call ourselves by His name do not know Him? Rather a self-constructed idea of who we think God is? Or what we want Him to be? Or what our culture has turned Him into? </p><p><br /></p><p>I’m reading The Knowledge of The Holy by Tozer for a class. My first thought was, after initially skimming the chapter titles, ‘Oh, I’ve known this stuff for years.’ I lied. I am blown away by what I am learning. </p><p><br /></p><p>I challenge you to read this book and not come out changed…and repentant…with the same awe and honor and respect that inspired the worship of God in saying, ‘Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord.’ And all that means. And it means everything. </p><p><br /></p><p>There is not a chapter in this book that has not caused me to sit and think deeply about what each attribute of God means in my relationship to Him…just this one chapter on the Transcendence of God, which was my reading for the day, included this…</p><p><br /></p><p>“Wherever God appeared to men in Bible times the results were the same—an overwhelming sense of terror and dismay, a wrenching sensation of sinfulness and guilt. When God spoke, Abram stretched himself upon the ground to listen. When Moses saw the Lord in the burning bush, he hid his face in fear to look upon God. Isaiah‘s vision of God wrung from him the cry, “Woe is me for I am undone, because I am a man of unclean lips.</p><p><br /></p><p>These experiences show that a vision of the divine transcendence soon ends all controversy between the man and his God. The fight goes out of the man and he is ready with the conquered Saul to ask, “My Lord what will you have me to do?” Conversely the self assurance of modern Christians, the basic levity presented in so many of our religious gatherings, the shocking disrespect shown for the person of God are evidence enough of deep blindness of heart. Many call themselves by the name of Christ, talk much about God, and pray to Him sometimes, but evidently do not know who He is.” </p><p><br /></p><p>After reading this, one of the first things that came to mind was an article that I read the other day by Anne Lamott about how upset she was at a coach praying at the 50 yard line. I’m not going to go into the whole thing, you can read it online, but one of the things she does is use some of the names she has used elsewhere for God…the great universal spirit, the cheeseburger, Gus, Not Me, and a slew of other ones that sound cute but in reality? I wonder if she would actually call God these things in a face-to-face encounter with Him. I’m thinking not. </p><p><br /></p><p>Suppose knowing Him is the most important thing we can do? How would it change me? You? The world? Suppose NOT knowing Him has eternal consequences?</p><p><br /></p><p>We hear all the time that God is Love. And this is true. But His love is demanding and it came at a great price to Him and it costs us something. And He’s so much more than love. He’s also Just. And Love and Justice walk hand-in-hand. Who is this God we profess to follow? To love? Is there any higher calling than to grow in understanding of Him? </p><p><br /></p><p>Oh, and those old English quotes at the beginning of each chapter? Nobody said you have to read them. Just saying…😉</p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-2917990715981254332022-03-16T22:06:00.032-04:002022-03-17T15:54:33.829-04:00No, hiding is not an option<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTydSQTlZtVEyV_T8BE0XytCUZy-zKrS7LE-j954eIclaCuyVi74yBivMO9QLYE5rLxhKRMHs2JMiYiY4t7lz6DUxivCg3XrpAa-uFarzG7km1lxWpfCgdbeDBYCerbZn4I-u6DyOpS4LwG2kFWEsQ2QuGe9aH0soVkQ1qDfs2YyCBQOCbywZPCWnbTw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1371" data-original-width="2048" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTydSQTlZtVEyV_T8BE0XytCUZy-zKrS7LE-j954eIclaCuyVi74yBivMO9QLYE5rLxhKRMHs2JMiYiY4t7lz6DUxivCg3XrpAa-uFarzG7km1lxWpfCgdbeDBYCerbZn4I-u6DyOpS4LwG2kFWEsQ2QuGe9aH0soVkQ1qDfs2YyCBQOCbywZPCWnbTw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like many of you I own a dog. Or better yet, it owns me. Matter-of-fact, three dogs own me. And my heart.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now don’t get me wrong, if I speak Christianese, I know Christ owns my heart but there’s something about a warm and snuggly body pressed close and a hopelessly devoted look from the eyes of a puppy who would lay down her life for me if she had to, though I’m not exactly sure how a Chihuahua would do that? Adore you to death? Anyway, it’s wonderful to be worshipped even if I don’t deserve it. And this is my state as I begin this blog…</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We just returned from 10 days in Arizona. Well, it ended up being 11 days because the airlines couldn’t get their act together nor could nature so the trip took a little bit longer than we planned. During this time away from home, and all its obligations and responsibilities, I had a chance to look and listen with new eyes and ears. I have to admit that I left home discouraged, teetering on depressed, and wondering if I would even have a home to return to the way things are going in the world. But I went anyway, figuring if the world did blow up, I’d rather die doing something I love. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So here I am, two days after returning home, thankful the world did NOT blow up…yet anyway. My house is in chaos, remnants everywhere of all we did on said trip: cameras, binoculars, bird books, treasures picked up along the way etc. My floors have drips of doggy pee from one dog who has kidney disease and scattered rice and chicken, now dehydrated, from meals that kept them alive while we were gone. I know I should be up and about getting things done since we have appointments this afternoon, but in the scheme of life I don’t think it really matters. What does matter is a puppy pressed tight against me wanting to be loved. And I’m more than happy to respond.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s been a while since I’ve written. I’m not sure why except that maybe I didn’t have anything to say. Or that my brain was too jumbled to put into words what my heart was hearing. Or I can blame it on Covid-fog, which I still struggle with. I really thought, like most of you, that 2022 was a new beginning…old things would pass away and all that jazz. But the old things are still with us and we’ve managed to pick up some new</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"> crisis’ along the way. Add the old and the new together and we have the makings of an entirely new creature, one that seems uncontrollable and able to morph by the hour, dragging us down as it does so.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I left here I was dealing with anger at the rape of so much land nearby and the steady overtaking of new developments and people moving into the area thinking we have what they want. But the more people that come, the less of it we have. When we moved here, I-485, the perimeter expressway around Charlotte, didn’t exist. Now, in typical government hindsight, the-powers-that-be have realized that though they did eventually see a need for said expressway, they should’ve made it with more lanes. So now they are widening the road to accommodate all the people who decided to make this home, resulting in utter chaos and traffic jams and dangerous driving conditions, not to mention putting concrete dividers between the roads. Grrr…a perfect death trap for any animal trying to get across. Yeah, the dream was becoming a nightmare and getting out of here seemed attractive. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And let’s not even talk about the suffering all around me and throughout the world. Every day, my heart broke over the damage sin was inflicting on people and animals and creation. I felt like I was suffocating under a blanket of evil and I was tired of trying to breathe...very, very tired.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And I was angry. And God knew it. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-c65347f7-7fff-416e-0737-534e129ca874" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Last week, as we stood high on a hill overlooking the Catalina valley, I told Ted that I was born to live in Arizona. Which isn’t true because God knew where I needed to be born etc. etc. (thanks Bill Gothard) but it was a slight consolation to me that it could’ve been a cosmic mistake that I ended up on the East Coast rather than the Southwest. The open spaces and vastness of the nighttime sky bring healing to my soul. I don’t feel like I’m suffocating. So many draws tempt us to move there…endless hiking and outdoor activities, an active art culture, beauty that takes your breath away. Not to mention that during the trip we discovered there are no handymen within an hour and half of where we were. <i>God, is that</i> <i>you</i>?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know, I know, it’s not perfect. God knows the Phoenix area has been overdeveloped, though granted the developments are well ordered and attractive to the eye and the roadways are maximized for use…six lanes seems to be their favorite number. And Tucson, ditto. And water issues they will have with them always. I consoled myself into thinking that maybe all the people who made the mistakes on the East Coast have moved out west and have learned from their mistakes and are doing it differently. Or not.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Anyway, we spent a lot of time birding and when you’re birding you meet a lot of interesting local people. Over time, one of the things that we heard again and again started to get to me. It seems they have the same concerns and issues out there that we do here. Chemical companies poisoning the land, other industries taking more than they give. And across-the-board there are less birds and mammals and diminishing, healthy environments for the birds and wildlife to live in. It hit me that this is exactly the same bad news we heard while birding in Texas last November. So it’s not just Waxhaw…things are getting worse and not better. No matter where you live.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br style="white-space: normal;" /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well then. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br style="white-space: normal;" /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I allowed all this gloom to rumble around in my head for the next several days. I felt like a child who knew there was scary things outside the bedroom door, so they hid under the covers with a flashlight. You know, the <i>‘I can’t see you so you’re not there’</i> mantra. It can be applied to any area of life that you’re struggling with. Just in case you didn’t know.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br style="white-space: normal;" /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So now I’m going to fast forward to what this is all about. I think I could sum it all up in one sentence: <i>You can run but you cannot hide</i>. And that’s what I have been wanting to do for the last, well, let’s say two years. Run away from what’s happening here, what’s happening in the lives of those I love, what’s happening in the world. But what Arizona did was show me that I can go to a different location… which by gosh by golly is absolutely breathtaking…but I will have exactly the same problems: people can still be stupid, the world is still messed up and heading for eventual destruction (though I do hope it’s thousands of years in the future), I can’t change people or fix them and I will still carry with me all my imperfections and broken and shattered dreams and hopes. And sin nature. Everything will just settle down in a different location. Darn.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br style="white-space: normal;" /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While we were away, I took a video while standing on a hill in Catalina, remarking how incredibly beautiful it was and how it was giving me a breath of fresh air and how we had figured out a way we could make this our new home. Which at the time was true- we had been shown a place we could live in and there was plenty of work for Ted. I posted the video on the family page. Later, when we came home, my granddaughter wrote me and said they had watched all the videos. She then went on to ask <i>‘Is it</i> <i>true that you’re really going to move there?</i>’ <i>‘No</i>, I replied, <i>because we would miss all of you too much.’</i> Her answer? ‘<i>Phew’</i>. That says more than anything I’ve written thus far.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br style="white-space: normal;" /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So how shall I carry on? I’m thinking maybe the anger I feel at what’s happening in this world could be channeled into some hands-on work. Instead of hiding under the covers, I could start stepping out of the bedroom and into a world that desperately needs involved people- people who know God and who, though their gifts may not be many or mighty, are willing to work alongside God in whatever area He deems best. Yes, it may break my heart. My empathy level is through the roof, and watching or dealing with suffering, especially with animals, can incapacitate me. But God knows that, too. He will never ask more of me than I can give. The secret is I need to be willing to give.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br style="white-space: normal;" /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’d like to encourage you. If you’re brain dead, experiencing a deer-in-the-headlights moment, or wanting nothing more than to curl up in a fetal position clutching your favorite food and/or drink, I get it. On any given day, one or more of these describes me perfectly! But knowing that God sees me and doesn’t judge me for my fears, or weaknesses, or inability to get it right most times, gives me hope that maybe there is a way through this all…a forward motion, one baby step at a time. I can write a letter. I can send a check. I can be proactive in issues that I care about. And that God cares about.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.666666984558105px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Years ago I read a chapter in a book called <i>The Holy War</i>. She talked about how her empathy paralyzed her from taking part in anything that could be a solution. I underlined most of that chapter because that’s so true for me also. I think her bottom line was… </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.666666984558105px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br /></i></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.666666984558105px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Satan wins when we hide</i>. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.666666984558105px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Dear ones, it’s time to come out of hiding. We can’t save them all, or solve all the problems, or make everything right but we can be a part of the solution and I think that’s all God asks of us…</p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><i>Be His presence</i>.</p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Amen and Amen. You are loved, dear one. Now let’s get out there and do some damage to Satan’s kingdom!</p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.666666984558105px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.666666984558105px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br style="white-space: normal;" /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br style="white-space: normal;" /><br style="white-space: normal;" /><br style="white-space: normal;" /><br style="white-space: normal;" /><br style="white-space: normal;" /><br style="white-space: normal;" /><br style="white-space: normal;" /><br style="white-space: normal;" /></span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" />Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-10144345994837004212021-12-01T11:01:00.010-05:002021-12-01T14:08:13.495-05:00Taking Control of Christmas<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM1wdWJeYgI2a9NZvE1GRfYqoGdcC82mCyvYm9LpurzlSvHN9MwL8Cbi4PzXlPrVesWQanp-kNXYMogDpWpux7aKifwEIfKSk0SkRKgitdxaYhIs1SkVnFTy16hJiXv2ncjrR_AnmhMERx/s450/EAA88969-91C5-42CA-9EE1-7C1E1A22C25B.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="450" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM1wdWJeYgI2a9NZvE1GRfYqoGdcC82mCyvYm9LpurzlSvHN9MwL8Cbi4PzXlPrVesWQanp-kNXYMogDpWpux7aKifwEIfKSk0SkRKgitdxaYhIs1SkVnFTy16hJiXv2ncjrR_AnmhMERx/s320/EAA88969-91C5-42CA-9EE1-7C1E1A22C25B.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>So, what does Christmas look like to you? </p><p>As I sit here at the beginning of the Advent season, dogs snuggled on either side of me and a newly placed naked Christmas tree in front of me, I wonder how this will end. </p><p>Like you, I’ve experienced a crazy last couple years and everything seems sideways. I don’t remember what normal was two years ago but I’m convinced that there has to be a better way now. </p><p>I’ve been scrolling through Google looking at minimalist Christmases. This all started last night in the wee hours of the morning while I lay there and thought of all I needed to do to get the house decorated for an upcoming family get-together. Not to mention friends and others who will be stopping in over the next week or so. God forbid that my house should be in a state of chaos, boxes everywhere, half-finished projects on every surface. As I lay there in bed, tears rolling down my face, I realized something had to give. This isn’t how I want to celebrate Christmas, nor is it the reason I celebrate Christmas. Christ is my reason and my heart longs to draw closer to Him and not be so exhausted physically that I don’t care about anything more than survival. </p><p>I read a couple of things that made me stop and think…</p><p>One of them was being Intentional…intentional about what brings joy and peace into our home. You mean that is an option? </p><p>The second was that we could do things Differently. Just because we’ve done something year after year doesn’t mean we need to keep on doing it. That was a freeing idea to me as I am a diehard traditionalist. </p><p>The third was just Decorating One Central Room. Now I like that idea! I tend to decorate living room, dining room, bathroom, kitchen, guest bedrooms, etc. As I think about all the work that will take, I want to crawl into a corner and die. </p><p>So this year I am determined to take control of Christmas. I’m tired of being under the influence of our culture, my past, and especially my expectations of what should be. Ever since I was a child in New England, I have clung to this notion that it’s the most wonderful time of the year and it should look that way. But I don’t live in New England anymore and I’m not the same person I was. And things do change, don’t they?</p><p>My biggest struggle? This crazy notion that I will disappoint people because God knows I live to make people happy, especially the grandchildren who have always known Grammy's house as a sparkly, colorful, winter wonderland. But something tells me that they would rather have a Grammy who is joyful and who has time to spend with them, making memories with crafts or games or baking rather than running on empty.</p><p>So now I’m daring to think, decorating wise, What makes me happy? A Christmas tree makes me happy. And after looking at scores of trees online and how they could look, I realize I have freedom to decorate the tree anyway I like! This year I think it would be really cool to actually see the tree! Considering we cut her down and gave her a place of honor in our home, I think she’s beautiful just as she is. And yes, I do call all my trees 'she' (smile).</p><p>Another thing that brings me joy are twinkling white lights and candles, poinsettias and greenery, even if it’s just a vase of cut branches and berries. All these things restore my spirit instead of drain it and help me to be reflective, especially towards the real meaning of Christmas. It will be incredibly hard not to open all those boxes of decorations that represent years of memories. Really, what kind of person doesn’t use their traditional Christmas ornaments? And would leave them to languish unseen? Seriously, are they going to cry in disappointment? (eye-roll) Change is hard for me but I think this is worth the struggle. Not just for me, but for my dear husband who would love to have an unstressed wife for the next six weeks!</p><p>I’m thinking the world won’t end if I do Christmas differently this year (shocking!). And if I enjoy this new freedom, I may choose to let go and ask my children and grandchildren if they would like any of the decorations that have brought me joy in the past but now no longer fit into my life. I love the idea of passing on things, but only if they want them and will find joy in them. Do unto others as you would have others do onto you!</p><p>Please know that this is a personal journey. It reflects probably, in a bigger way than I realize, my desire to take control of many areas of my life that I have let go. If you love doing Christmas in a super big way and it looks totally different to you, I say go for it! And just as none of us likes the same foods or decorating the same way or wearing the same clothes, Christmas, which is a super intimate time of the year, should reflect who you are and what is important to you. I’m just a little late in getting around to that!</p><p>Thank you, dear one, for allowing me to ramble. I wish you a blessed Advent season, filled with the mysteries of Christ and His coming. I wish you, more than anything, Joy. You are dearly loved! ❤️</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-72433836808619555242021-09-30T22:24:00.005-04:002021-10-01T09:32:11.774-04:00Suppose you could live the life you were called to live?<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlXgbbTlJkDnXpXVL8cpuiYePE484iGeaHFi1hamRWz9ZnCrgLzoZ_lDTZ1B7aWotuLqEwiCaAUCQK8sIXmuYVII17bjQODDlkgkGqFK57FchKsNWduKhU2A8GxuByKrf16lydGTdsiXks/s2048/vecteezy_hand-change-block-with-trust-and-truth_3057344.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlXgbbTlJkDnXpXVL8cpuiYePE484iGeaHFi1hamRWz9ZnCrgLzoZ_lDTZ1B7aWotuLqEwiCaAUCQK8sIXmuYVII17bjQODDlkgkGqFK57FchKsNWduKhU2A8GxuByKrf16lydGTdsiXks/s320/vecteezy_hand-change-block-with-trust-and-truth_3057344.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; white-space: pre-wrap;">It is blessedly quiet here this morning. All the puppies are sleeping, including the one who sneaks into our bedroom when I get up and hides herself in Prissy’s bed, making what I call a Puppy Burrito of herself. Whatever. If it makes her happy, it makes me happy.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-740e847a-7fff-3bce-21d8-27c2ddd93adc"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I decide to take advantage of this gift of peace and quiet and see if I can turn some thoughts rolling around in my mind into a blog. Assessing the situation and the probability of success, I tiptoe to the couch and slowly pull my iPad to myself. I turn and very s-l-o-w-l-y sit back down on Ted’s Lazyboy, where any sleeping dogs can awaken to see me and know that I have NOT abandoned them, nor do I need them to secure the area and protect me. Lord, have mercy.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Success! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So my question for the day is, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How are you at trusting in God? </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you’re like me you’ll quickly reply, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Doing great thank you! </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Perfect! </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">s</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">how me what that looks like!</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And this, friends, is where the rubber hits the road...visible actions that show what we</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> really </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">believe, whether it’s an honest, complete, trust and reliance in God, or a well-held-onto sense of self-reliance that ebbs and flows with our emotional state. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As the Good Book says, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. For all the world to see...</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I heard a sermon last week, the gist of it being, ‘</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What one thing do you need to change in order to live the life you were called to live?’</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At the end of it, my husband and I looked at each other and he said, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stop working! </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">which I completely understand as who doesn’t want to be free of all burdens to live a carefree and flexible lifestyle? </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well, unfortunately that’s not going to happen</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, I replied, doing everything I could not to roll my eyes. He had a point but I’m thinking that’s not what the Priest was asking...he was looking for something obtainable. Sure my husband </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">could</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> stop working, but I don’t think it would end well for us...</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So when my husband turned and asked me what </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">my</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> one thing was, I was hard pressed to identify it. I told him I need to think about it. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So I did. For all of one day.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You see, I had a decision to make...a time sensitive decision, meaning I couldn’t ignore it or put it off indefinitely: </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Should I or should I not go with my sister to Nevada/Utah for a week in October?</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> My nephew, Zachary, who with his dance partner does this amazing thing on ice skates, would be competing in Las Vegas. This trip would be an opportunity for me to see him, and then from there to head to Zion and Bryce National Parks for a week with my sister. Knowing how much I love her and him and the Southwest, it really shouldn’t have been that hard of a decision, right? </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well, it was. As I looked at all the pros and cons of this opportunity, the </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What-Ifs </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">began their endless chanting...clamoring for my attention...reminding me of all the things that could go wrong while I was away. And not only to me, but to my husband, my dogs, my home, and on and on until I had pretty much established plane crashes, traffic accidents, sickness, starvation, and everything short of a nuclear Holocaust or Yellowstone erupting occuring while I was away.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I became tense and snappish, with depression trying to squeeze its way in to join the party.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was then that I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the one thing I need to get rid of is </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fear.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> If I ever want to live a life of peace and trust and joy, it had to go.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well, it just so happens (read: Divine Providence) that I am leading a Zoom study now on the book </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Get Out of Your Head</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> by Jennie Allen a</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">nd the current chapter is...ready? </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unafraid. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I do believe that there are no coincidences that are not Divinely inspired. This one chapter had a destiny to be read by me for such a time as this. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The premise of the chapter was simple. When you feel the weight of Fear settling on you…and your mind begins to spiral… </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stop. Look. And Listen. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stop.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Whatever you’re doing, take the time to acknowledge the Fear. Don’t let it skulk around the edges of your mind, shredding your peace.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Look. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> What lie is Fear telling you? It’s so important to identify the lie so that you can…</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Listen</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. And ask the Holy Spirit what God has to say about that lie. And then go to battle against the one who only comes to seek and kill and destroy...your life, your peace, your hope. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s that easy! The enemy knows it but sure doesn’t want us to know it also. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For me, it was believing the lie that </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was in control of my life</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, and only by being in control was I safe...and not only me, but everyone and everything I loved. It was up to me to keep it all together.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The truth?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That God is Lord over all and that all things...everything...are in His control. All He asks of me is to trust and rest in Him and His faithfulness and love for me, no matter what comes my way. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wow. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With tears running down my face, I humbly confessed this revelation to my husband, emphasizing how sick and tired I was of being held captive to Fear...afraid to try new things...to take chances. I desperately wanted to come out of hiding and live again. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Being the godly man he is, he looked me straight in the eye and said, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Now you </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">have</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to go. Just to show you are no longer fearful!”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You gotta love this man!</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So yes, I did decide to go on the trip with my sister. All my fears and insecurities melted away before the trust I placed in God. I chose to rest in the truth that even if the worst happens, God will still be in the midst of it. And if the best happens? We’ll be 2 crazy almost-old ladies singing off key as we drive, stopping at every unique coffee cafe, eating Southwest food for every meal, and standing side by side in awe of the incredible, heart-gripping beauty around us.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And to think I almost said, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sitting here today, encouraged that the puppies slept the whole time I wrote, this was what I opened to in my Bible. It was like a hug from God. A hug saying, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Welcome Home, my Beloved. I’m so glad you’re here...</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You who fear the Lord, wait for his mercy; do not stray, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">or else you may fall. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You who fear the Lord, trust in him, and your reward will not be lost. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You who fear the Lord, hope for good things, for lasting joy and mercy. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Consider the generations of old and see: has anyone trusted in the Lord and been disappointed? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or has anyone persevered in the fear of the Lord and been forsaken? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or has anyone called upon him and been neglected? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For the Lord is compassionate and merciful; he forgives sins and saves in time of distress.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ben Sira 2:7-11</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In a chapter entitled </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trust in God.</span></p><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-69384085590581889152021-09-17T12:06:00.004-04:002021-09-17T12:38:15.427-04:00Help! I'm being held captive.<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7R8zE-V8kZ-TKamWJlAwbEYPT5pq6meQ3a-yILcQymfOKly7_xG0VR8ZwboDAz2OMJZAN6siyy2GhECr_pSd9S6xjPTjbz1onIDD1lsmb0j4I4AAT233hEZTJt4Np0Y29qB-qqyNuw8_G/s1024/why-does-my-dog-stare-at-me-683x1024.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="683" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7R8zE-V8kZ-TKamWJlAwbEYPT5pq6meQ3a-yILcQymfOKly7_xG0VR8ZwboDAz2OMJZAN6siyy2GhECr_pSd9S6xjPTjbz1onIDD1lsmb0j4I4AAT233hEZTJt4Np0Y29qB-qqyNuw8_G/s320/why-does-my-dog-stare-at-me-683x1024.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Help. I’m being held captive.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-d4e8b893-7fff-4abd-14c7-260ac0e32ab0"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m on my couch and I’m being watched. Every move I make, every breath I take is noticed.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s been hours since I’ve eaten. My coffee is almost gone and what there is, is cold.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve been deprived the use of my Bible…it’s too far away for me to reach. I’ve heard about tactics like this. Ditto for my study books. And if I get up to get them, I will be seen. And then it will not end well.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like the movie <i>Monsters Inc</i> says, <i>“I’m always watching you Wyzowski, always watching.” </i>I will never watch that movie again.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Note to self: never sit down again without food and sustenance nearby. Like they tell elderly people…put bags of food on the floor around the house so if you fall, you won’t starve. All I have are jars of dog biscuits next to me. If I’m forced to eat them, I will. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I decide that they can control my body but they cannot control my mind. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wait. My captors are sleeping. Snoring even. Now’s my chance! Slowly moving forward so the seat doesn’t creak, I push myself up. Yes! They are unaware of my escape! Keeping an eye on them, I move stealthily towards the kitchen…it is the promised land and I must go. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Slowly I go, step by step, inch by inch…</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Casting one more glance behind me, I round the corner…I am out of their range of sight…in view of the coffee pot and the pantry. Angels are singing and the Hallelujah Chorus is playing! Glory!</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Almost there…the smell of the coffee makes me want to run, but I know that would be my final mistake. Slow and steady wins the race…I mean, escape…</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Oh no! A rodent from outside has fallen onto our window feeder! Thump! I watch in horror as my captors jump up, screaming what I’m sure are threats to the invader. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They look at me as if to say, <i>This thing could kill you! Never leave our sight again or we will be forced to cause you anguish.</i></span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Oh no! Not anguish!</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve heard rumors from those who have lived to tell about similar experiences… that my captors intentions are for good, not evil. They want to protect me…keep me safe. For this reason they will never abandon their post. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I question this.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With head hung low, I scuffle back to my seat. My escape has failed. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With imploring eyes I beg them, <i>Before I sit down again, please, please may I be allowed to use the potty?</i></span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Only if we accompany you. </i>Which they do, surrounding me...pressing against me…watching me. Is nothing sacred? </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How much longer, Lord?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not willing that I should escape again, they nudge me back to my chair. They sit down beside me. I am surrounded. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wait, I think one of them is trying to suffocate me! She’s on my chest…she’s burying herself in my neck. The other one looks on in envy. If only she had thought of that first!</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is the end. I know it. With one last glance around my beautiful home, filled with a lifetime of memories, I whisper a quiet goodbye to this blessed world I had once known.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have no regrets. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not even losing my freedom to two, tyrannical, ever-devoted, Chihuahuas. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">❤️ I die a happy woman. ❤️</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The End. ☺️</span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-58811287750330983992021-08-03T11:54:00.012-04:002021-08-03T18:30:59.773-04:00Looking for bread in all the wrong places<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFYgO_hR0n049_nfw187sx0GqkCpmySzXKv4rNI49JscD_9acg4JbWtxoatx_upAShuZn1UwNRR6KmhR9Wp7qCq62UnQ6mf-54st3ila3euHhd9rh9AJiJCHhM41rPxLH9hGMTKgBLRHn/s2048/brett-jordan-bTnVUKxHVfk-unsplash.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFYgO_hR0n049_nfw187sx0GqkCpmySzXKv4rNI49JscD_9acg4JbWtxoatx_upAShuZn1UwNRR6KmhR9Wp7qCq62UnQ6mf-54st3ila3euHhd9rh9AJiJCHhM41rPxLH9hGMTKgBLRHn/s320/brett-jordan-bTnVUKxHVfk-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>There are days that I have meltdowns...when I find it more comforting to sit and bewail my circumstances, weeping and moaning and becoming as useful as a dishwasher with no water.</p><p>Sunday was one of those days.</p><p>I woke up feeling edgy, which is never a promising thing. Well, it is promising, but not for smooth sailing, but more for high winds and choppy seas. My little boat was rocking and I knew a storm was coming.</p><p>Why would you have a meltdown, you ask?</p><p>Food. It was all about food.</p><p>You see, I have this thing about weekend breakfasts...that they should be special and a time of sitting down together and sharing not only good food, but companionship. It's an expectation I wake up with every Saturday and Sunday morning. In the past it was an expectation that I could easily fulfill, no problem.</p><p>This past Sunday morning, however, I felt overwhelmed even before I dragged my tired body out of bed, I knew it wasn't going to end well. Plunking myself down on the couch with a steaming cup of coffee, I thought, <i>Not again. I just can't do it. I can't think of anything I want to eat. I'm sick of cooking. I hate having diabetes </i>and on and on and on. By then the meltdown was secured.</p><p>All I wanted was the good ol' days...when brunches looked like pancakes and bagels and muffins. For that matter, anything that had carbs and sugar in it. I was sick and tired of veggies and eggs and meats. Let me tell you, people who say they are not addicted to food are delusional. Eating is not only physical but emotional, and it does not like to be changed. I am a living testimony to that.</p><p>So I sat on that couch for an hour, sobbing my heart out. When Ted had the courage to sit down with me, I told him, <i>I would rather be able to eat what I want and die early, than to have to do this for the rest of my life.</i> Yeah, pretty pathetic. Ted went on to remind me of people we know who have not listened and obeyed what they needed to do, and the consequences of those choices. Like kidney failure, amputation, losing their eyesight, and death. You would have thought that that 2x4 being whacked against my head would wake me up, but no, I kept on wailing.</p><p>I don't know, maybe sometimes we just need a pity party. God gives us that grace. But only for so long. Lord, if it was my kid doing this, I would have sent him to his room and let him know that he could come out when he calmed down, and then he would still have to eat what I told him. </p><p>Anyway, we had thought we would actually go to church that morning but I was no mood whatsoever. So we stayed home and turned on our favorite service who has our most favorite Priest, Father Mike. Week after week after week his messages have been spot-on. As the service began, somewhere in my weary spirit I whispered,<i> Lord, I can't do this anymore. I need your help. I desperately need to hear from you today. Please. I beg you. Don't abandon the work of your hands.</i></p><p>I don't know if Ted heard what I heard during the message. For all I know, he could have heard something completely different...something he needed to hear...something like, <i>how not to murder your wife when she's driving you crazy. </i>Lord have mercy.</p><p>With great humility I say that God was faithful to my heart cry...just the Gospel reading told me that. </p><p><i>"My Father gives you the true Bread from Heaven. I am the Bread of Life- he who comes to Me will never hunger, he who believes in Me will never thirst."</i></p><p>Father Mike went on to talk about the Israelites in the desert...how they grumbled and complained over the food they were given and how they stomped their feet and held up their fists because they wanted to go back to Egypt. They moaned and groaned and drove Moses crazy because they missed the food there.</p><p>They forgot the slavery part of the deal.</p><p>So God sent them to their room for 40 years and told them for 40 years you will learn to trust Me. I will train you to live in freedom. </p><p>Ouch. Ouch.</p><p><i>Freedom</i>. How much do I really want it is the question. It sounds so enticing. But it comes with a cost. Freedom to do the right thing means saying <i>No</i> to the wrong thing. It means letting go of feelings and emotions and centering on what God has shown me is the right thing for me...not looking around me and wishing I could be like others...not looking backwards, but up to Him.</p><p>It involves trust.</p><p>Trusting that what God asks me to do is the best thing for me. Trusting that His love and joy over me and my obedience is of greater value than food. Trusting that He knows my deepest desire is to not die from diabetes, but have a life-long testimony of God's goodness and faithfulness to me...one day at a time. Sometimes even one meal at a time.</p><p>The flesh is powerful. But never has the flesh been known to want what is good for us. It wants what it wants no matter the cost to us. Even death.</p><p>I see now that Jesus needs to be the Bread I desire. When I hunger and thirst for that which would only kill me, I need to see that as a sign of remembrance that I need Him...that I can't do this without Him...that I can trust Him, especially when I can't trust myself.</p><p>How about you, my friend? Is there an area in your life that enslaves you? It may not be food, there are hundreds of other options to choose from.</p><p>Christ came to set us free. Because He desperately, passionately loves us and desires good for us.</p><p>And anything He deems good is worth fighting for. </p><p>May each of us taste and see that the Lord is good. </p><p>Amen. And Amen.</p><p>***************</p><p>And now for your listening pleasure...one of my favorite artists singing about my blog! 😅</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/o_No9sI69oQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="o_No9sI69oQ"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> </div><br /><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-40806960797108224162021-07-20T13:47:00.015-04:002021-07-20T17:42:55.779-04:00Broken doesn't mean Useless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA32lfSEke8lxO5rXC6OSwji1mOcGK6ZDuG3yNKuSO5vfsOe-peEc1kRdTG4Ry5a7fZtDj8uszHzuCkgeKiC48BRn4m-DBdQLEZPxwGipgcasb_5aE_Vgh7OZ9uMe8PcSb9CKKBwoZJB5v/s820/581ba81116000018002c84c0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="651" data-original-width="820" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA32lfSEke8lxO5rXC6OSwji1mOcGK6ZDuG3yNKuSO5vfsOe-peEc1kRdTG4Ry5a7fZtDj8uszHzuCkgeKiC48BRn4m-DBdQLEZPxwGipgcasb_5aE_Vgh7OZ9uMe8PcSb9CKKBwoZJB5v/s320/581ba81116000018002c84c0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>We live in a disposable society. If it's broken our first thought isn't to fix it, but throw it away and get a new whatever. Being married to a handyman has prevented my doing this many a time, but I can sympathize with those who have no idea how to fix something and in frustration move on to a new product.</p><p>I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I don't have the mentality of someone who survived the Great Depression, but it still bothers me to throw away things that can be reused or repurposed. </p><p>Like myself.</p><p>Several weeks ago, after a year of self-medicating with food, I knew my body was sending up gasps for help. I was losing weight at a great pace, which should not have been so as my eating habits definitely did not promote weight loss. I had been at this point 5 years ago and I knew what was happening...my body was no longer allowing glucose into my cells and my insulin was doing everything it could to try and make that happen. I was literally starving myself to death without the energy and life-giving support that glucose gives. </p><p>I knew I had to pay attention. When my blood sugar level came back at over 400 it shocked me (normal is 80-100). I had had no symptoms except weight loss and had hoped (read:<i> deceived myself</i>) to not have to face this again. I had worked so hard to get healthy over the previous years, but COVID and depression and a sense of apathy threw it all to the wind, and now I was right back where I started 5 years ago.</p><p>My first thought was to eat something to numb the pain. My second thought was,<i> I desperately need help. I can't do this alone.</i></p><p>I felt like a failure. </p><p>So upon a friend's reference, I met with a Wholistic/Naturopath, who was also a "regular doctor". We spent 2 hours together, her going over my bloodwork and explaining things I already knew but evidently had not learned. A lot of things had to change, both physically and mentally, if I was going to overcome this deadly disease and live a longer and healthier life. She and a Life Coach were committed to coming along side me and giving me the tools and knowledge and encouragement I needed to succeed and beat this.</p><p>I still felt like a failure.</p><p>I began to beat myself up.<i> I knew better. I</i> <i>could have, should have, would have. </i>And facing the financial cost of the treatment was humbling. Ted had been so willing to support me in the past. Was this over the line? But what was my option? </p><p>As soon as I got home from the appointment I joined a couple of FB websites on overcoming and reversing Diabetes. What I read blew my mind. But the one thing that stuck with me that first day was the post that said, <i>"Yes, it is hard. But losing a leg, or your eyesight, or dying of a heart attack or stroke is much harder. I'm not just doing this for myself, but for my husband and my kids and grandkids. That's what motivates me. It is possible to reverse Diabetes and I'm going for it."</i></p><p>Wow. Talk about an eye-opener! In the past I had centered on what I had to give up, not what I had to gain. I wept on the couch...both from fear and hope...and resolved at that moment to take Diabetes seriously.</p><p>One of the biggest changes for me is changing my eating habits: no sugar, giving up carbohydrates in the form of breads, pasta, rice, potatoes, etc. Each one of those yummy things converts to sugar in my body and raises my blood sugar level. I had to start seeing foods like this as <i>poison</i> to me, <i>not comfort.</i> Instead, there are a wealth of foods I can eat that would strengthen me...meats and veggies, eggs and cheese, and some fruits. There is a plethora of recipe sites online to draw from, and the ones I have tried have been so yummy!</p><p>I am thankful that God has allowed me another wake-up call. I could have ended up in a diabetic coma, in the hospital. I am not going to stretch His mercy a third time.</p><p>I see now that I have literally been throwing my life away. I had always believed that I needed to get it right or I wasn't acceptable or good enough...to God and others. But no matter how hard I tried, I never could get it right...I was always falling short. And so I felt unworthy and defeated time after time after time. It was an endless cycle of defeat. That stops now.</p><p>At this point I'm feeling hopeful, albeit fragile, and cracked, and weak. Which isn't a bad place to be. I've had to confess that I can't do this by myself. I have tried before but I did it begrudgingly, there were always excuses and compromises. The temporary satisfaction overcame the eternal good and the battle was exhausting. It is time to talk truth and sense to myself and God. Not that He was surprised by any of this. His patience and long-suffering know no end. Thankfully.</p><p>The other day I saw a picture of Kintsugi, the art of filling in the cracks of broken pottery with powdered gold or some other precious metal. The pottery, in all its uselessness and brokenness was not thrown away, but redeemed for further use. And it was made even more beautiful than before. It was breathtaking! It was then I realized that God doesn't have to take away the broken to make beauty...<i>the beauty was IN the cracks! </i></p><p><b style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">My strength is made perfect (beautiful) in your weakness. </b><span style="text-align: center;">What a glorious verse!</span></p><p>None of us is perfect. Life has broken and cracked all of us in some way or another. But walking around trying to deny or cover up the cracks doesn't allow God the ability to redeem them...to make something beautiful out of them. Without Him and His work in us, we end up occupying a shelf at the Goodwill rather than in the King's palace.</p><p>The world needs hope, now more than ever. Definitely eternal hope, which comes through Christ, but also daily hope...hope that we can go on even in our brokenness. That our life still has great value and usefulness because God, as our Redeemer, wants to pour His love and grace into the cracks in our lives, making us more beautiful than before. We are not failures, but glorious works in progress!</p><p style="text-align: left;">Today my blood sugar was 170 points less than 2 weeks ago, which is a great encouragement to me. But I have a long way to go, not just in dropping that number, but in understanding how to take care of myself, physically and emotionally. It must be God and me working together for as long as I breathe. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Knowing that God wants to use my weakness for His glory empowers me to share all of this with you...to allow you to see my cracks. You are fearfully and wonderfully made my friend, and you have great value. Not because of how well you are doing or how you are managing to keep it all together. No, it's because you have a story to tell others, a story of redemption from brokenness...a story of hope. </p><p style="text-align: left;">There's no nobler calling for any of us.</p><p style="text-align: left;">You are dearly loved...by God and me! Shine on!</p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-36674899622629407262021-06-22T15:52:00.012-04:002021-06-23T10:28:22.040-04:00Want to know what Everyday Courage looks like?<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZx-0gbPJUR6QcFN6eXW3M7jqJELYowMUyxO_-oYp1BTvycp5NjNUY_Z8Gdl4budSgDYJpZ8wPhCAVRGc3OL_HzS5D5b80ds4gMxXKCYdHevUek5m0rcpWq3BvCuPEw9uyj2yPrjYClcI_/s454/cat-looking-in-mirror-sees-lion_thumb%255B1%255D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="409" data-original-width="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZx-0gbPJUR6QcFN6eXW3M7jqJELYowMUyxO_-oYp1BTvycp5NjNUY_Z8Gdl4budSgDYJpZ8wPhCAVRGc3OL_HzS5D5b80ds4gMxXKCYdHevUek5m0rcpWq3BvCuPEw9uyj2yPrjYClcI_/s320/cat-looking-in-mirror-sees-lion_thumb%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>So it's Tuesday, the day I have assigned to be 'Write a Blog Day'. </p><p>Last week I came up with this crazy, and probably totally impossible, idea of assigning a task to each day of the week- partly because I need to be more disciplined in accomplishing things, but mostly because I need things to do every day to keep me from drifting into the shadows... </p><p>Monday is 'For Heaven's Sake, Clean the House Day'</p><p>Tuesday is 'Sit down and Write a Blog Whether or Not You Feel Like It Day'</p><p>Wednesday is 'Take the Puppy to the Greenway and Then Out to Lunch Day' (my favorite day!)</p><p>Thursday is 'Gardening and Weeding and Picking Up Sticks Day'</p><p>And on Friday I try to find a willing friend to do something with...my 'Be Blessed By a Friend Day'</p><p>Of course 'Making Paper and Doing Collage' falls in any open spot of the week!</p><p>And finally there's the weekend, which Ted manages to fill up quite well. So far, it's a plan that's working!</p><p>Let it be known that I had completely forgotten about it being <i>Blog Day</i> until this morning when I inquired of the Lord, <i>What shalt Thou hast me to do today?</i> And because He has mercy on all those whose brains are mashed potatoes, He reminded me what day it is...<i>Tuesday</i>...and what I had pledged to do on said day...<i>Blog. </i></p><p>I heard someone say the other day that we are defined by what we do...if you are a painter, you paint, if you are a writer, you write...you get the idea. And though my identity is not totally based on being a writer, writing brings me joy and it is a gift that God has given to me. Someday I will have to answer to God for the use and/or misuse of this gift, so Tuesdays are the day I hope to work this answer out. </p><p>So let me ask you, <i>after reading last week's blog on Everyday Courage, how is that going for you? Has it spurred you on to take an extra step of courage? Boldness? Faith? Have you felt more empowered knowing that you are not alone?</i> I hope so. I know I am!</p><p>Just to encourage you, I'm going to share an episode of what <i>Everyday Courage</i> looked like in my life this week. I walked into it, not expecting it at all...</p><p>It began with an online post from a local group that popped up on my email, sharing a link to a company to write to if we were concerned about their support of an issue. Nothing more, nothing less. Anyway, I briefly responded that I had recently noticed that another local institution had advertised the same stand. Shortly after, when one of the members responded with some statistics, I asked from where he had obtained that information. And that was it...what I thought was a civil discourse with a group of people that I live and move and have my being amongst.</p><p>Until I got a private email in response to my statement/inquiry. I didn't expect the sarcasm and the accusation that <i>I was being judgmental and hate-filled and hey, that's what Jesus called us to, right?</i> I read it. And re-read it, trying to make sense of it. I wrote back and said that posting information and asking questions is not judgmental nor hate-filled...it's a right we have and I'm sorry this person felt that way.</p><p>A response came back immediately, basically condemning me to the innermost circle of Hell and accusing me of attitudes and actions that have never, ever entered my thoughts. To say I was taken aback would be an understatement. I've had heard of things like this going on, but up until then I had never experienced it. I had assumed that this exchange was amongst fellow Believers...but really, who can know? Maybe my assumption was wrong...</p><p>And that's when my blood pressure began creeping up. <i>What the?</i> I knew I was upset when an unloving thought flit through my mind: <i>So I studied Truth for a year with Chuck Colson, what's your claim to being allowed to speak? </i>Thankfully I did not say that.<i> </i>By then it was time to leave for a Doctor's appointment and I knew that this was not going to fare well...which it didn't. No matter how I tried to explain it, my Doctor was <i>not </i>impressed with why my blood pressure was 20 points higher this time than the last time.</p><p>Anyway, it was at a long stoplight on the way to the Doctors that her next email came in. It was volatile and full of vitriol and at that moment I decided that no matter what I said, I would not get anywhere with her. So I wrote a quick message back saying, <i>'I am sorry but I do not agree with you and I will not respond to any future communication from you in that spirit. And I will pray for you.' </i></p><p>It took <i>Everyday Courage</i> to let go and back away and not say something I would regret. There was a time I would have rushed in where fools fear to tread...having to be right, having to make a point, having to win the battle. </p><p>It's taken me years to realize that the battle is God's not mine...that there are spirits out there that can only be defeated through prayer. And fasting, but thankfully I haven't met any of those yet! Sometimes the wisest thing I can do is to close my mouth, back away, and pray. Yes, I probably will be misunderstood for doing this. And sure enough, when another message came in later in the day and I saw the first few words....<i>You are a coward</i>...I knew that I had made the right choice.</p><p>Yes, I'm human enough to wish that everyone loved me...and agreed with me...and were impressed by me. Conflict is not my forte. Just the opposite...my empathy and desire to see others happy often overrides my need to say/make a healthy choice. The fact that I even responded to her first message was a baby step of courage for me. Like the spiritual song says, <i>'You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run.' </i>When my blood pressure finally came down, I uttered a sigh of relief that I, by the grace of God, had done just this.</p><p>Am I concerned for her? I am. I don't know what is going on her life that would cause such anger to fester. But I had to make the choice to turn from her and run to God Who is a shield around me, my glory, and the lifter of my head...Who has all wisdom and understanding and insight...the One I can trust to lead me in the way I should...or should not...go.</p><p>I'm not sure if I will ever be in contact with this person again. Since she's part of the group, I very well may. I can't say what will happen then...God could write an entirely different outcome. I would welcome the opportunity to communicate in a healthy way. But no matter what, I have to trust that throughout every day, no matter what comes my way, <i>Everyday Courage </i>will always be available. And for this I am very, very thankful.</p><p>And that, friends, is my story.</p><p>How about you? Do you have an example of how God empowered you with <i>Everyday Courage</i> this week? I would love to hear it! It's in these small battle that the wars are won, dear friends. Know that I continue to cheer you on and pray for you!</p><p>You are dearly loved!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-84748644395797522652021-06-16T11:09:00.003-04:002021-06-22T11:02:54.396-04:00Everyday Courage...or the ability to keep-on-keeping-on<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5v68Zx7Xmj7KdCEKoLMx6gdoMFZAEqtukUR7aSWmPGpwgeqV76_K-XmbMbzCH9Fk3Sefn9qRtyZJZC0EnDJZOqTdM7tpxmLi3FZqAjDVR-OLlQyDbIXaFszo6UTNtWMW5XY91IfO_YA5W/s2553/vecteezy_female-standing-with-success-with-fists-raised-up-on-peak-of-mountain-with-sky-background-achievement-and-winning-concept_2611498.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1231" data-original-width="2553" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5v68Zx7Xmj7KdCEKoLMx6gdoMFZAEqtukUR7aSWmPGpwgeqV76_K-XmbMbzCH9Fk3Sefn9qRtyZJZC0EnDJZOqTdM7tpxmLi3FZqAjDVR-OLlQyDbIXaFszo6UTNtWMW5XY91IfO_YA5W/s320/vecteezy_female-standing-with-success-with-fists-raised-up-on-peak-of-mountain-with-sky-background-achievement-and-winning-concept_2611498.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>What does courage look like to you?</p><p>I think most of us have this idea that it's this BIG BRAVE THING that only a few attain...like diving into a frozen river to save someone...pulling someone out of a burning car...climbing that mile-high mountain...any good thing we normally don't do on a regular basis. Something bigger than ourselves.</p><p>Now I agree, all those things do take a superhuman effort to accomplish. I like to think I could do a BIG BRAVE THING if necessary. So far I haven't been called to one, unless it was giving birth. I loved the end result but I sure hated the process. But hey, I wasn't given a choice to NOT do it, so I'm not sure that counts.</p><p>You see, the hard part for me isn't the big things...true confession...it's the courage to keep-on-keeping-on...one day at a time...sometimes one hour at a time...<i>in the little things</i>...when life seems so hard and I want to quit. </p><p>I shall call that an act of <i>Everyday Courage.</i></p><p>And to me, that's a much bigger challenge. </p><p>You see, I struggle with depression. I come from a long line of people with anxiety disorders who found it easier to live life through self-medicating in one form or another. The thing about self-medicating? It may appear to make life more bearable for the person doing it, but it's definitely not beneficial to the others around them. They don't get the benefit of numbing or dulling the pain...all they get is fear and the need to somehow try and make it all better. </p><p>I cannot remember living without fear...my elementary school teachers called me a 'worry wart". I have no idea how this spirit entered my life...perhaps it is genetic or hereditary or learned. All I knew was that there was so much wrong and so much evil to worry about...hiding under a desk during the Cuban Missile Crisis...Kennedy's assassination...the Vietnam War...Silent Spring. Or how to keep a cat from being run over or a dog from being hit on the highway. Could I have done anything about any of those things as a child? No. But neither did anyone tell me HOW to deal with all those fears. So, I taught myself to be in control of all I could to keep myself safe. </p><p>So here I am, 50 years later, still struggling to feel safe. God knows that now there are infinitely more things to be afraid of, courtesy of the world-wide-web and social media. The world has not become safer or less scary. </p><p>This past week I really had to fight to keep on going. Picture a rolling, roiling dark storm cloud coming towards you...surrounding you, smothering you, enveloping you. That's what depression is like to me. My senses are alert to its coming and all I want to do is hide. I have begged and pleaded with God for years to take this away...to show me the way through it and out of it. And maybe He will or maybe He won't. Depression may be the thorn in my flesh that He may never deliver me from. There may only be grace. And that will have to be enough.</p><p>Do I think about checking out? Sometimes...when I am ever so tired and the journey seems too long. Until I remember the suicide of someone I dearly loved and the crushing pain it brought on. And the hardest part was never knowing why she couldn't go on. But I realize now that she may have saved my life...for she taught me that though the pain would end for me, it would never end for those I love. So no, checking out is not an option.</p><p>The question is, what does it take to keep-on-keeping-on during times of darkness? When something bigger than you makes it hard to breathe and you've lost your direction and the light forward is dimming? </p><p><i>Everyday Courage</i>. Plain old <i>Everyday Courage.</i> To me it looks like...</p><p><span> * </span><i>The grace to just wake up and get out of bed. </i>Maybe open the curtains. Or not.</p><p><span> * <i>Being willing to be fragile, </i></span><i>real, and honest...open to someone safe, someone who will enter your brokenness and not ask nor expect anything from you. </i></p><p> * <i>Doing the next thing. </i>Brush your teeth? Feed the dog? Put dishes in the sink? Baby steps. Don't let fear paralyze you. </p><p><span> * <i>Asking for help.</i> Wearing a mask only makes the journey lonelier and longer. </span> </p><p> *<i> Knowing what you need. And doing it</i>. Self-care is not selfish. <br /></p><p><i>How are you living out Everyday Courage? What does it look like to you? </i></p><p>We all have fears. We all struggle with something. We all need help. You may not struggle with depression like me. Perhaps you've been afraid or hurt or living life on the edges because it's safer that way. Perhaps <i>Everyday Courage</i> looks to you like...</p><p><span> * <i>Speaking the truth in love. </i>Yes, you may be rejected but that's not the point. Stepping in to something difficult takes courage and though the outcome can't be controlled, you will have taken the first step to freedom.</span><br /></p><p><span><span> * <i>Writing a letter, making a phone call, reaching out...finally...doing something long overdue because it's the right thing to do. </i>And God always honors the right thing.</span><br /></span></p><p><span><span><span> * <i>Making a good choice...letting go of something harmful...embracing a new beginning</i>. Walking in a new, healthy direction is an amazingly good and brave thing!</span><br /></span></span></p><p>Everyday we are given opportunities over and over again to be courageous...to choose the right thing...do the right thing. Trumpets may not sound and banners may not wave, but our souls need it. And they are of greater value than any trumpet or banner.</p><p>I love that life is a journey...that there are so many truths to learn, and ways to apply them along the way. Have you ever gone on a perfect journey? I haven't! With every trip I have taken there are necessary stops and what seem like unnecessary breakdowns, detours and changes of plans, conflict and times of bliss. To expect it to go perfectly is to be delusional. The same with life...day after day after day, for however long God gives us, there are of thousands of opportunities to grow in <i>Everyday Courage.</i></p><p>I pray this post is an encouragement to you. Being this open and transparent is scary to me. I could be fearful and expect rejection, mockery, or dismissal. Or, I can believe that I will be accepted, loved, and understood. I choose to believe the second option. I choose <i>Everyday Courage. </i></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">'Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.'</span> Joshua 1:9</i></p></blockquote><p>We can do it! </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p></blockquote><p><span class="versenum" face="system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-size: 1.2rem; font-weight: 700; line-height: normal; position: relative; top: auto; vertical-align: text-top;"> </span></p></blockquote><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-51811271609086737602021-04-14T11:44:00.008-04:002021-04-15T09:20:08.313-04:00The dawning of mercy on a frozen heart<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0WuW25EOT5k9-BJH1WUu4cih7cuLrz-hdHBaN512IpLm5_0G8NL2H7P-5Rx31S1tLgwumrEv0VtHCpgH4ZIP01_LWkeAvR0SlBqAOmbs4D6_QIQMdoZCD4PQ39JR667fbPCX2C_D6fDK/s2048/fence-1618414918715-3829.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0WuW25EOT5k9-BJH1WUu4cih7cuLrz-hdHBaN512IpLm5_0G8NL2H7P-5Rx31S1tLgwumrEv0VtHCpgH4ZIP01_LWkeAvR0SlBqAOmbs4D6_QIQMdoZCD4PQ39JR667fbPCX2C_D6fDK/s320/fence-1618414918715-3829.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I remember the first time I heard the difference between Grace and Mercy explained: </p><p><i><b>Grace is getting what you Don't deserve</b>. </i>Example-Christ's substitutionary death on the cross for our sin. We deserved punishment and Hell but instead we received forgiveness and hope.</p><p><i><b>Mercy is not giving us what we DO deserve</b>.</i> God could have blasted the Israelites for turning their backs on Him and worshipping idols, but when they cried out for forgiveness, He showed them compassion and mercy. </p><p>Huh. </p><p>Many years ago, when we were in a more legalistic environment, we spent a whole year studying Grace. And Grace became our key to healing. Unfortunately, I have not yet done the same with Mercy. My only goal has been not to confuse the two when using them in sentences. I never want to look too stupid.</p><p>So all to say, I believe in them both and am very thankful for each of them in my life. God knows how many times they have been extended to me for my stupidity, sin, and overall unwillingness to turn to Him and do what I should, not what I want. </p><p>However, to my chagrin, I am beginning to see that I am very good at receiving them, but not so good at extending them. Especially Mercy.</p><p>I don't know what's happened, but sometime in the last year I have become short of temper and patience. Mostly with people...i.e. all of humanity...basically anything that lives and breathes and that I come into contact with, excepting my dog and my chickens. They are safe.</p><p>No, it's the i----s that drive with no care or consideration for others...the s----d stuff that I read that shows that the writer has no filter for decency, much less Truth...the lack of care shown to Creation and its inhabitants...a world that seems to be spiraling downward at an extremely fast pace. And there's so little I feel I can do about it. So I get angry and scream out <i>Justice!</i> along with a few other not-so-nice things. Let's just say I have found myself saying and thinking and doing things that would shock my mother, God rest her soul. </p><p>Granted, after doing this, I temporarily feel better but I haven't solved a thing. I fear I am becoming an animal of different stripes who is unknowable and reactive. </p><p>I am not proud of this. I feel like something external is pushing me into this mold, but I keep popping out at the edges, not sure I want to conform to this new creation. I am literally homesick for who I used to be. Once in a while I catch glimpses of her and I catch my breath and tears well up in my eyes. Yeah, sick for home and the way things used to be.</p><p>Anyway, yesterday I was "talking" to God about this. <i>What is wrong with me? Why can't I be more patient? Understanding? Kind? </i>Being reactive is not helping me or anyone else, and I'm pretty sure it's playing havoc with my health as I've been self-medicating with food and not sleeping well.</p><p>Now I'm not going to say He actually <i>helped</i> me, at least not in the physical sense, but He did give me something to think about. Kind of reminded me of my parents when they had become completely frustrated with my attitude and <i>"gave me something to think about." </i>Just like that.</p><p>And that something had a name: Rudolf Höss, an SS officer, the man in charge of Auschwitz and the grizzly deaths of almost 2 million people. A man who surely deserved Hell and damnation for all the atrocities he had committed. A man who lived with his wife and 5 children in the yard near the crematorium. A man who deserved judgment, but instead received Mercy.</p><p>It’s the Priest’s fault I learned of all this. Because yesterday, on Divine Mercy Sunday, the Priest shared about him in his homily. As he duly noted all the atrocities that Höss had committed, I felt my indignation rise up along with my blood pressure. Where was this going? Surely, if you are trying to prove the point that Mercy does not extend this far, I agree. Thanks for validating what I have been thinking: Mercy is limited and people get what they deserve.</p><p>Ugh. Did I really say that??</p><p>Then the Priest went on to tell the story of the end of Höss's life...how he had come to see the great crime he had committed against humanity, and the remorse and grief he felt over what he had done. He went on to ask the Priest for Confession and though it took hours for him to recount all the sins he had committed, he received absolution and Communion the following day. He died by hanging at Aushwitz...a forgiven man.</p><p>Whoa! Are you serious??? On a scale of badness he was off the scale!</p><p>Mercy that big? For someone that evil?</p><p>And then it fell on me, a truth that I had been missing for ever so long...through all my days of self-righteousness and judgment and critical thinking...</p><p>I was greatly lacking in the Mercy department.</p><p>The problem with Mercy is that it runs counterintuitive to our reasoning. And in my mind there are levels of sin, similar to Dante's rings of Hell...from stealing gum at the convenience store to taking the life of another. But the lives of almost 2 million people? That tipped my scale on how much could be forgiven...how big Mercy was. I sat there for quite a while, rolling it over and over in my mind and this was my new-born conclusion...</p><p style="text-align: left;">God is real. Mercy is real. It's His to do with as He likes. And the bottom line is, God has made Mercy boundless and available to whosoever should ask for it...no matter what they have done. Repent and receive Mercy. Me, you, Hoss.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in Mercy.</i></p><p>Think about Jonah, who received the Mercy of God many times over, but in his heart judged Nineveh unworthy of the same. He took more care of the plant that provided shade on his behalf than he did of the lives of those God loved.</p><p><i>But God said to Jonah, "Do you have a right to be angry over the gourd plant?" Jonah answered, "I have a right to be angry- angry enough to die." Then the Lord said, "You are concerned over the gourd plant which cost you no effort and which you did not grow; it came up in one night and in one night it perished. And should I not be concerned over the great city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who cannot know their right hand from their left, not to mention all the animals?" (Jonah 4:9-11)</i></p><p>I may be wrong but I think God could be saying that the Ninevites were not too swift, not knowing their right hand from their left. Which means intelligence is not a requirement for Mercy. </p><p>And I love that God was also concerned about the animals! </p><p>So where does this leave me? </p><p>It leaves me humbled and very aware that I do not live in the same sphere of Mercy that God does. I am deeply aware that I need to do a study on Mercy, so that the Word of God can do a work on me...so my heart and soul can be softened. So ultimately, I can become like Jesus. Which is the goal of God for all of His children.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>"We can learn from Jonah's mistakes. We are not to view ourselves as better than those who are different from us- instead, we are to <b>see others as God sees them</b>: sinners in need of a Savior, just like us. </i><i>We should be eager to share his Gospel with others,</i><i> they they, too, </i><i>may understand God's power and mercy.”</i></p><p style="text-align: left;">Jacki and I were talking yesterday and we came up with this...something practical that we can aspire to on our journey to becoming Merciful...</p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>"Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious- </b></i><i><b>the best not the worst</b></i><i><b>: the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse...Do this and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into His most excellent harmonies."</b> (Philippians 4:6-9)</i></p><p style="text-align: left;">And that, my friends, is my challenge. And my hope. I need to make a U-turn on this Mercy thing, or become someone that, in time, no one will want to be around. Heaven knows I want to be a kind, gentle old lady, not one lashing out, with no filter, with a hard and embittered heart. I know it could happen as I've seen it. But God, please, not to me.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Be merciful to me, Lord, a sinner. Be my guide, my example, my enabler on this journey to becoming more like you...a blessing, not a curse, a mini-Christ in a world that desperately needs Grace and Mercy. Remove the fence from around my heart and let Mercy dawn in my heart. </i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>To your Honor and Glory, and the good of all those you dearly love. Which, is everyone. </i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Amen and Amen.</i></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px; line-height: 2.4rem; min-width: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-90461877220849377392021-02-24T10:40:00.004-05:002021-02-26T09:30:58.582-05:00Rise and Shine! It's time to wake up!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx1Hx0G8B51QPHn3GPtmFfDtJUX81qCzdBcOxL3IbreeYovqA5GGvyGkacu4Zh36y2GWum9hVrqO6eqyGYx_AUjkLDN9X-lwuJJOoR_96hVgg4KwIsGT4duPBtUMx7cpoK3fPdu540Qoq2/s500/50959207997_4fc4e744ac.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="334" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx1Hx0G8B51QPHn3GPtmFfDtJUX81qCzdBcOxL3IbreeYovqA5GGvyGkacu4Zh36y2GWum9hVrqO6eqyGYx_AUjkLDN9X-lwuJJOoR_96hVgg4KwIsGT4duPBtUMx7cpoK3fPdu540Qoq2/s320/50959207997_4fc4e744ac.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>For the last week or so I have had the rumblings of a blog inside my head, which has been encouraging. I've started one several times over the last few months, but each time I ended up closing the cover on my computer and walking away. I blame my lack of success on mashed potatoes, for I feel that is what my brain has become. </p><p>Before Covid, all the neurons were firing as they should (hopefully). I wasn't forgetting things as much, and I could carry a thought from beginning to end without hesitation (most times). And I especially wasn't garbling my words, struggling to express my thoughts into clear concise sentences. It would be hilarious if it weren't so ridiculous. So I let my blog go...</p><p>The fact that there hasn't been a blog in months speaks volumes. If I'm not hearing from God, you're not hearing from me.<i> </i></p><p>But recently I noticed some activity on my blog site. I wondered, <i>Is this another person whose brain has also become mashed potatoes and they don't realize they are reading the same old blogs over and over again?</i> <i>Or has someone new found my blog, and it's only a matter of time until they discover that's all there is, and there ain't no more? </i> </p><p>And this concerned me...</p><p>Being stuck at home for most of the past year, I have had the opportunity to get better acquainted with myself. After all, there weren't places to run to and keep busy with...meetings and clubs and get-togethers were non-existent...church became virtual front pew...and relationships morphed into online chats. Introvert that I am, I really didn't think it would be that hard. But I was wrong. I need people more than I like to admit. </p><p>Which is why yesterday I spent three hours on the phone with my sister. We did our typical complaining and criticizing, encouraging and dreaming...and challenging, which is probably the most beneficial part of any of our conversations. Only sisters can do this and come out unscathed!</p><p>All was going well until she asked, <i>Are the churches open there yet? </i>And I replied that <i>Yes, yes they are.</i> And then as easy as that I went on to admit that though they are open, we are not attending. Hearing myself say that gave me a spiritual nudge. <i>So,</i> w<i>hy are we not going</i>?<i> Are we worried about sickness? Is it the uncomfortable masks and the ensuing rash? We have this gift and yet we are not taking advantage of it? For Heaven's sake, there are people in the world who risk death every week to attend church!</i></p><p>I continued to dig my grave as I confessed that I've gotten used to cuddling up on the sofa with my coffee and sometimes even brunch (aghast!), watching my favorite Priest do what he does. No need to get dressed, go out in bad weather, or drive 35 minutes to church. </p><p><i>No need to be inconvenienced!</i></p><p>Whoa, light bulb moment! That just did not sound right. At all. The next word that popped into my mind was <i>slothful</i>, whose definition includes words like<i> lazy, idle, indolent, work-shy, inactive, inert and sluggish. </i>Ouch<i>. </i></p><p>So now I'm beginning to think that not only has my brain become mashed potatoes, but my spiritual life may be in peril, barely alive, gasping for air. And it's not just<i> </i>church I've drifted away from, <i>but how about Bible study? Prayer? Reading books that will help me grow in my relationships with God and others?</i> <i>And let's not even mention taking care of the temple of God.</i></p><p>As my sister continued on to name some of the big issues confronting the world right now, we both exclaimed, <i>How had it gotten this way? Was there any hope?</i> <i>What IS wrong with this world? </i></p><p>And then the spiritual 2x4 hit me: <i>I am what is wrong with the world! </i>At such a time when Absolute Truth is being swept into the dustpan, I have been lulled to sleep, embracing quarantining as my excuse. Yes, in the beginning there were uncertainties and things that made made me fearful. And for that reason I did all I could to stay safe. But as time has passed, I have become more and comfortable in my Covid world and have not discerned it may be high time to get off the sofa and get on with life.</p><p>I don't know about you, but I have forgotten who I am. Whose I am. I have forgotten my mission and my calling. I have been immobilized way too long. I have become lazy spiritually, mentally, and physically and I can picture Satan, gleefully rubbing his hands together over his success in this. <i>One down, out of commission! </i></p><p>It's time to wake up, wipe the dust from my eyes, look around, and get moving. I may not be able to do everything I could pre-Covid but I can do something!</p><p><i>'Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you' </i>took root in my mind. </p><p>It was at that moment that I confessed to my sister that I was convicted and I needed to change, and as I did I felt hope welling up in me for the first time in a very long time. It grieves me that I have wasted so much time, often living in self-pity and indifference. I was blind but now I see...no more excuses, no more embracing the lie of helplessness and hopelessness. It's time to say no to slothfulness and yes to living life...the life I was called to...the one He will enable me to live as I trust and follow Him through whatever lies ahead.</p><p>I confess it would be so easy to stay asleep. It's comfortable and there's no pain or confrontation or conflict. No broken hearts or hurts. I could just wrap my soft and fluffy sheets around me, curl into the fetal position, and dream my life away.</p><p>But it's not what God has called me to. I am to be His hands, His feet, and His mouth to a world that is rapidly descending into darkness. And in order to do that, I need to be awake. I do believe that someday we will give an answer for our lives, and how or if we used the gifts and talents He gave us. Lord have mercy if we neglect such a calling.</p><p>So now you know. I'm back. Still a little groggy as I wake up from a very long sleep. I covet your prayers to stay awake. I've been sleeping for almost a year now and much time has been wasted. </p><p>Like my Dad used to say, <i>'It's time to get up, get out of bed, get out of bed you sleepy head. Rise and Shine!'</i></p><p>My dad is a wise man...</p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>**********************************************************************************</i></p><p><i>photo credit: Antonio Cinotti <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46378751@N02/50959207997">Sunrise in San Quirico d'Orcia</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/">(license)</a></i></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><section class="line-group" style="background-color: white; color: #514d47; font-family: "Gotham A", "Gotham B", "Gentium Plus", Ezra, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 0.25px; margin: 2rem 0px;"><div><span class="verse" data-last-offset="24" data-ref="49005014"><br /></span></div></section><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-64746101249978769532020-12-15T11:35:00.004-05:002020-12-15T12:16:21.074-05:00But God meant it for good<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-o3vdfDpxzc9OyRxUYctI4DETTJYD8-4jPvQyneu7SL75OsHhKX69hyphenhyphenOMjW2mTvaCgfgvE81nFViTziyVtgLmOmBWvbUs0z6tPN5Y_PsmTJRiMU11ZxhB5a0KPQsymsxTpbzJdOMPrt9N/s500/50599811182_fd5d1d059b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-o3vdfDpxzc9OyRxUYctI4DETTJYD8-4jPvQyneu7SL75OsHhKX69hyphenhyphenOMjW2mTvaCgfgvE81nFViTziyVtgLmOmBWvbUs0z6tPN5Y_PsmTJRiMU11ZxhB5a0KPQsymsxTpbzJdOMPrt9N/s320/50599811182_fd5d1d059b.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>It's early here...for me at least. Prissy and I are snuggled together on the couch...she with her head poking out of her favorite red binky and me wishing I could join her, but finding it very hard to type and snuggle at the same time. I'm content just watching her, occasionally stroking her neck where she likes it best, right behind her satiny ears. I never knew dogs could sigh, but she does...a long slow, <i>I'm living the dream </i>sigh. Which makes me very happy.<p></p><p>Most of you know the roller coaster ride we have been on with Prissy for the last month. And if you know me, you know I <i>hate </i>roller coasters. I barely survived the kid's one at Disney, staggering off it and vowing I would never risk my life on one again. </p><p>I never realized until now that there are some rides you choose to go on, and others you are thrown into, barely having time to fasten your seatbelt before the insanity begins.</p><p>Prissy has been diagnosed with Pancreatitis, something I have never encountered in my 60+ years of life on this planet. We've had probably twenty something dogs, and never has one of them traveled down this road. It started with us trying to heal her from her inability to walk...a trip to a specialty hospital in SC showed it was Rheumatoid Arthritis, and a local vet put her on steroids and doxycycline, never knowing that she was one of the 2% of dogs that go into Pancreatitis, along with liver, and gallbladder issues from those drugs. To say she was sick was an understatement...not eating, vomiting all the time, comatose, unable to walk. No matter what I did, it failed. </p><p>So it was back and forth to the vets to be hospitalized, never knowing if they could save her. By the last visit I said, <i>Enough</i>. She was on eight medications, most of which caused her to vomit. Her vet and I made the decision to take her off all meds so she could hopefully rest and heal. If her body couldn't take food, it would only be a matter of time until she died. It was the scariest decision I have ever made. I felt damned if I did, and damned if I didn't. I knew I had to let her go. I loved her too much to put her through any more suffering. </p><p>During all of this, I had begged and screamed and cried out to God for a miracle. If He wouldn't heal her, couldn't He at least give me a sign? Say something? How hard would that be? I had begun to believe that we didn't matter. After all, look at all He had on his plate in 2020. </p><p>So when His reply finally came, it was a total surprise. I was flying down the highway to pick Prissy up from yet another hospitalization, totally exhausted and fearful of what was to come. I had lived this moment over and over again for weeks; I would pick her up with hope and then several days later, after her not eating or drinking, I would bring her back again for another hospitalization...all my hopes shattered. </p><p>It was then, through puffy eyes, that I saw them...</p><p>Dead animals on the side of the highway. Well, really in the median of the highway. Those poor animals had crossed that same road many times without problem. But then somebody put up miles of concrete barriers and all of a sudden they couldn't cross...there was this huge thing in front of them, keeping them from getting where they wanted to go. They must have been terrified...running along the barriers, trying to find a way through, only to be struck by a vehicle and left to die. Yup, that's exactly what I felt like.</p><p><i>Was it God who had put the barriers up in my life? </i>Or was it just plain, <i>We live in a fallen world and it's part of the story. So many things are out of our control. </i><b>But that doesn't mean God is out of control.</b></p><p>And friends, that's where I had to make the decision to trust God again...even without answers or explanations. What it really was, was my life verse: <i>To know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His suffering. </i>By faith I had to believe that He suffered with me. and by coming near to Him, we could share this suffering together. And hopefully, all things were working together for good, in spite of what I could see.</p><p>He reminded me of the good that was coming out of this...</p><p>~ Feeling the pain of all the animals and people involved in emergency veterinary work, and the call to pray not just for Prissy, but for them also.</p><p>~ Buying a Christmas tree from a lot whose profits go to local research for childhood cancer, and then following them on FB and seeing the pain, and the joy, that these families are going through. </p><p>~ Following a Canine Pancreatic site on FB, and while looking for answers, found so many whose beloved dogs had died. Pancreatitis is a life-long, slippery slope and health can change in a heartbeat. Prayer and encouragement are gifts I can give. </p><p>~ People who prayed and wrote to encourage me...others who had also experienced loss, yet were willing to share their pain and carry mine...a gift I never could have bought.</p><p>~ How almost losing Prissy...and I may still...has taught me to slow down and enjoy the people and gifts in my life and not take them for granted. Coming so close to death has taught me that there are thing that matter. Choose these.</p><p>This has been a hard year for all of us...not one of us is entering 2021 without scars. But I don't want those to be the only signs of my having lived through a difficult time...</p><p>I want to come out stronger, wiser, more compassionate, more grateful and thankful. I want to remember the pain so I never take for granted...or miss...the people, experiences and opportunities that present themselves to me in the coming year.</p><p>And if hard times continue to come, I want to remember that He's not always seen, but He sees. </p><p>You. Me. Everyone. And all that we are going through....this year, next year, and forever. </p><p>Praise God!</p><p>A blessed Christmas, dear one. You are truly loved.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-88363629787429859802020-10-28T14:21:00.002-04:002020-10-28T16:03:09.900-04:00Get out of your head!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ptWyEHMIswiu83Z7Py3Yfy0ROBa-Ilqr1ZMSU8GO0Td0fhKxkxjXXsEZF2-kGG9a3gNgZw_9thQq3-rqICZCh-vHJbXHauEk-1jLlQSMQWzM5ZpdtDqVHt5tr_De25uZXSprmr82zUcL/s500/50011794601_aef64305f0.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ptWyEHMIswiu83Z7Py3Yfy0ROBa-Ilqr1ZMSU8GO0Td0fhKxkxjXXsEZF2-kGG9a3gNgZw_9thQq3-rqICZCh-vHJbXHauEk-1jLlQSMQWzM5ZpdtDqVHt5tr_De25uZXSprmr82zUcL/s320/50011794601_aef64305f0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>If I had any doubt that I was supposed to write this blog, the case of the missing mouse tells me I'm on the right track. I mean really, how far can a computer mouse run? But I shall not be deterred...I am determined that this blog post will see the light of day!</p><p>**********************************</p><p>It was the second day of our trip to Hilton Head. Ted was out in his boat for the morning and I was thinking on what to do by myself. Remembering that I needed a good read for the trip, the idea of biking to Barnes and Noble appealed to me. It was only a couple of miles on a well groomed bike path, a ride I had done many, many times in the past.</p><p>I could picture myself, free as the wind, beauty all around me and a good book and cup of coffee ahead of me. </p><p>Hurriedly getting ready, excited over what lie ahead, I was surprised when suddenly a blanket of doubt smothered me, causing me to stop mid-stride.</p><p><i>"You know you are going to fall. Why do you think you can do a ride like this alone? You are a klutz...think about how many times you have fallen in the past. And you know people coming at you aren't always paying attention. And how easy would it be for a car to swerve off the road and hit you?"</i></p><p>By then I was convinced this bike ride was <i style="background-color: white;">not a good idea.</i> At all. I needed to wait til Ted came home and we could do it together. Safely.</p><p>I walked out on the deck, my bubble of excitement and fun totally burst. And I wanted to cry. How many times had fear done this to me? Stolen opportunities and thwarted my hopes?</p><p>It was then I did something courageous...so outside my normal scope of reference. I got mad. Mad enough to say,<i> I'm going to do it anyway! </i>Granted I was still afraid, but something in me snapped and I was willing to take the risk. </p><p>So off I went, a little wobbly at first, praying the whole way that I wouldn't fall or hit an oncoming biker or collide with a car at one of the many intersections. With every stroke of the pedals, my confidence grew and I felt the weight of fear fall behind me, shattering on the bike path.</p><p>I was doing it! I had stood up to my fear! Thankfulness bubbled up inside me when I safely arrived ALIVE at Barnes and Noble! I wanted to scream out, <i>Who's the woman? High-Five, God!</i></p><p>Have you ever felt that way? Like you are just NOT going to be able to do something? I have. Way too many times. In fear, convinced I will fail, I have short-circuited too many opportunities. I have listened to the lies in my head, not the God of my heart.</p><p>Which leads me to the point of this blog...</p><p>Once I got inside the store...which BTW is absolutely the BEST Barnes and Nobles ever...I prayed from the deepest recesses of my heart,<i> Lord, You know I am burned out. I have come this week desperately hoping to meet You here. I can't remember the last time I felt joy and peace. I have been living in a very dark place but I want out. Please, please guide me to just the right book. I desperately need to hear from You, to have hope again.</i></p><p>So I started wandering...up and down aisles, picking books up, putting them down. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever find anything that spoke to me. I felt hope eroding away and the same old doubt resurfacing: "<i>God doesn't care about you. Why would you think He would? Look at all the pain He's caused you. And you think you can trust Him?"</i></p><p>I wanted to cry. But holding back the tears, I kept on searching. I didn't realize it then, but it was my second faith-act of the day, and God was waiting to meet me in it.</p><p>And that's when I found it...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZKy8srdmTV9ifx2VDk-K2Pe1XAMZfPXFHGJdhxRlL_2zHigYqlBszmoBk4Tyzq2fYCy-s8RlqoocHTYeXC6rKqKCRi2sLdJVhmHa_tbr887wsHdILNvxWr8t2o65CkZW-vCh5dt4RIqnB/s4032/IMG_9022.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZKy8srdmTV9ifx2VDk-K2Pe1XAMZfPXFHGJdhxRlL_2zHigYqlBszmoBk4Tyzq2fYCy-s8RlqoocHTYeXC6rKqKCRi2sLdJVhmHa_tbr887wsHdILNvxWr8t2o65CkZW-vCh5dt4RIqnB/s320/IMG_9022.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><p><i>Whoa! </i>I immediately thought, <i>How cool is that?</i> Followed by, "<i>Ah, a New York Times Bestseller, probably written by some liberal millennialist who has lots of words but nothing to say."</i></p><p>But I was desperate, so I purchased a Chai latte and plunked myself down to skim through it. It was only a few minutes later that I knew...this was God's answer to my prayer! Seriously, I could have written the book! There have been only two books in my life that I have pretty much totally underlined and marked up: <u>Shattered Dreams</u> and this one. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgB2OqBllMLW-ASuD62I-sTqqqbYqlMqLkhXBcjHFEaPhgLc8rBk6sETxXLQ-ajRThbvoluTake2QYyPCEcKM-AYBvG0Chjers9B9vKNPoGOM4w_WWO9XBSPHgM6T9LZjRBXFHHvZqjmVF/s4032/IMG_9024.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2441" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgB2OqBllMLW-ASuD62I-sTqqqbYqlMqLkhXBcjHFEaPhgLc8rBk6sETxXLQ-ajRThbvoluTake2QYyPCEcKM-AYBvG0Chjers9B9vKNPoGOM4w_WWO9XBSPHgM6T9LZjRBXFHHvZqjmVF/s320/IMG_9024.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><p>Suddenly, everything else I had planned for our time at Hilton Head fell away. God had handed me a gift and I clutched it like a life preserver. Just the thought that He had seen me! And knew what I needed! And had answered my prayer gave me hope.</p><p>And the author? Thankfully she did not live up to my fears. I could relate to her hopelessness...her lostness...her depression and blindness. I felt I could link arms with her and together we would find our way Home again...out of the spiral of toxic thoughts and lies I had been living in. And together we could step into a healthy, God-filled place...a place I had been homesick for for a long, long time. </p><p>I wonder,<i> can you relate to this? </i>Do you wonder why you just can't rise above and over the thoughts that continually condemn you? Thoughts that are negative and destructive and entangling? </p><p>I have been walking with the Lord for almost 35 years now, and yet I still fell prey to the lies and deception of the Evil One, the one whose goal is to keep us blind and captive and despairing, and whose intent is to turn us from God and into ourselves and the world's thinking...rendering us all but useless. </p><p>The Deceiver has mastered the arts of camouflage and deception! Masquerading as an angel of light, seducing with a lie here and there...planting seeds of doubt and condemnation that over time strangle any hope of God's goodness and His love for us. Slowly, we enter a very dark place...one that we can only be delivered from by the Light of God's Truth. </p><p>On the last morning of our time at Hilton Head, I took the book down to the pool. While there, a Wren made it very clear that I was to pay attention to him. He jumped up near to me and literally stared me down, as if saying, <i>I have something important to say so listen.</i> I mean he was in my face! So I asked God to help me to understand and this is what I heard, (the Wren looking up for awhile) <i><b>Look up to God and</b> </i>(the Wren, looking from side to side over and over again)<b> <i>do not look around. Then you will stand on the high places. </i></b>And what do you think the next chapter was on? Yup, keeping our eyes on the beauty and wonder of God and not on people or circumstances. I rest my case.</p><p>It's been a week now, and as I have worked through the book, Light has begun to seep into my thoughts and hope into my heart. I have been given a manual for war, though granted it will take time to implement it all and become successful in it. But the tools and the strategy are there, and that gives me hope! With God I will win these battles, and ultimately the war. Now I want to tell others that they can overcome also!</p><p>Dear one, I don't know where you are, but I do know many of us feel defeated. And tired. And the thought of spending a lifetime this way is overwhelming. Take heart! We were meant for so much more! God will enable us as we throw off the shackles of doubt and fear, and turn in trust to our Lord, who will not only walk with us through the battles, but provide us with everything we need to fight victoriously!</p><p>If you are Fearful. Doubting. Anxious. Battling thoughts and beliefs you just can't overcome, consider this book. No, I'm not getting any payback from recommending it...just the joy of passing on a gift that I was given.</p><p>May it be a key that unlocks a door that you have been staring at for way too long. A key to all the good that God has for you. </p><p>Oh, and the missing mouse? Still MIA. In the past, I would have said, <i>Forget the blog, it's too much work without the mouse. </i>And I would have let go of the opportunity to share all that I have. But I recognized the enemy's fingerprints all over that situation and wrote it anyway. So there, Satan! </p><p>Dear one, you are loved!</p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-73138657992553764152020-08-14T12:43:00.000-04:002020-08-14T18:05:59.509-04:00Welcome Home! You made it!<div>
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I don't usually start out with a quote, but unless you read this you won't have the foggiest notion of where I'm going in this post...</div>
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<i>“In 2006, a high school English teacher asked students to write a famous author and ask for advice. Kurt Vonnegut was the only one to respond; and his response is magnificent: “Dear Xavier High School, and Ms. Lockwood, and Messrs Perin, McFeely, Batten, Maurer and Congiusta: I thank you for your friendly letters. You sure know how to cheer up a really old geezer (84) in his sunset years. I don’t make public appearances anymore because <b>I now resemble nothing so much as an iguana.</b> What I had to say to you, moreover, would not take long, to wit: Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, <b>but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow. </b>Seriously! I mean starting right now, do art and do it for the rest of your lives. Draw a funny or nice picture of Ms. Lockwood, and give it to her. Dance home after school, and sing in the shower and on and on. Make a face in your mashed potatoes. Pretend you’re Count Dracula.”</i><br />
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So, what was your first reaction after you read this? Honestly?<br />
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Did you scoff? Roll your eyes? Sigh? <br />
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Or for one brief second did your heart sing with hope? Hope that maybe this could apply to you?<br />
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Yeah, I know, you don't sing well. Remember that audition for the musical in elementary school where you choked on the notes and lost your place and the piano eventually stopped and you knew? <br />
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Or how about dancing? Seriously, everyone else can do it, why not you? In your mind you soared like Ginger Rogers, but in the body you looked like a drunk elephant. It would have been more merciful to be put out of your misery than continue on. <br />
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Art class? It didn't help that you sat next to one the most talented students in school and though you tried to imitate them, even up to how they held their pencil, the teacher never stopped by your desk. So instead you settled for admiring the works of others.<br />
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Oh, and the big one...acting! While others around you got the praise and accolades for their talent, the only kind of acting you perfected was putting on the mask you used to protect yourself...peeking out and watching others but never being brave enough to play the role of YOU.<br />
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I know all about these things. <i>Because all of those things are me.</i><br />
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You see, I come from a long line of artists stretching back from the 1800's and straight into today. My great-grandfather and grandfather used oils...my father, watercolors...my kids, pastels and other mediums. I have art in my blood.<br />
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God knows over time that I wanted to try something...lithographs and weaving come to mind. I had read about them, studied them, watched others do them. But I never took the first step to actually try them myself. Because I had learned to accept and adapt to failure. I think that's when, in my mind, I put on the big black T-shirt with the bold <b>"F"</b> on the front and decided to stop...stop trying...stop dreaming...just stop. Stick to what I can do. And that's a sad place to be in: <i>The Land of Lost and Dying Dreams. </i><br />
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When Covid invaded my orderly, hidden life I found myself with way too much time to think. Amidst isolation, depression, and feeling terribly, terribly sad a phrase kept running through my mind. I had heard it before, but with so many opportunities to keep busy I had managed to outrun it. The haunting phrase? <i>I can't find my way home.</i> Whenever it invaded my thoughts, my chest would tighten and my eyes would burn with tears. Waves of homesickness would wash over me, so strong at times that I was immobilized. I couldn't keep living like this...it was time to turn around and face this.<br />
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So I did. I sat a lot, prayed a lot, thought a lot, and cried a lot. When God finally revealed that I have been enslaved by Failure and Fear all my life, I wept. He showed me that they have held me hostage to condemnation and self-criticism and living in a shallow, self-made, safe world that I tried to control...a world I could probably hide in until I died. And that realization made me terribly, terribly sad. All the years I had wasted...all the opportunities I rejected. Slowly, like George Bailey, the cry of my heart became,<i> I want to live again!</i><br />
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But what does that look like? For me, it means walking up to Fear and Failure and all they breed and saying, <i>Enough!</i> It means, even with trepidation, walking out of my comfort zone and into the unknown, whispering <i>Yes!</i> instead of <i>No</i>. It means opening my tightly closed fist and heart to God...trusting Him to be where I am going. <br />
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There are literally days I have to say out loud, <i>I am not a failure.</i> <i>I am a unique daughter of a King who loves me just as I am. He has plans for my good and for my future that I can only arrive at through trust.</i> And stepping out in faith. Help me, Jesus.<br />
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Breaking free of the crust around your heart and your thinking is incredibly painful. Summoning up the courage to stare Fear and Failure in the face and watch them lose their grip and power is scary. But what's the alternative? A life that falls short of the way it was meant to be...survived but never lived. And that's not enough. I knew I needed to take a baby step of faith...<br />
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When I first saw Elizabeth St Hillaire, the radiant instructor offering a Birds and Blooms online Collage class, I laughed. Really laughed. And God knows the only time I really laugh is with my dog, who is silly and devoted and oh so funny. Elizabeth was dressed in mix-matched flowery, flowing Bohemian clothing and her hair was poppy red. Her joyous smile and joie de vivre was contagious, even through the computer screen.<br />
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And I knew...I knew...that deep inside of me was a woman like this...hiding behind all the walls of fear and rejection and failure...waiting to be let out again...waiting to find her way home.<br />
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So, I signed up for her class. Before we started we had to share something of why we were taking the course. Me? I said I'm tired of being afraid...of failing. I want to step out of my comfort zone and challenge myself to do something I have always wanted to do. Her reply? Basically, <i>Welcome Home! You are in a safe place. Failure means you get to learn something. You are going to have fun! </i>And I am!<br />
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And you know what? I'm not homesick anymore! Because I've made the choice to turn around and travel...one baby step...one day...one opportunity at a time...towards home...to finding out who God made me to be...what talents and gifts He has given me. <br />
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Sometimes it takes years for us to be brave enough to become alive and real...to accept ourselves as we are...the good, the bad, the ugly...with kindness and compassion and not judgement and condemnation. I'm thinking this is true of Vonnegut <i>(a really old geezer (84)... I don’t make public appearances anymore because I now resemble nothing so much <b>as an iguana</b>)</i>... Love it!... who has learned a valuable truth <i><b>(Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.)</b> </i>This is a man who has pressed on and through and arrived with not only a sense of humor, but wisdom to share.<br />
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That's how I want to be!<br />
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I invite you to come along with me! Find something that you have always wanted to do, but never did, because you were afraid and you didn't want to fail...again. The bar is low, my friend, for we're not after the world's applause or monetary gain, but we get to <b>Become</b>! <b>Find out what's really inside us</b>! <b>Make our souls grow</b>! How exciting is that?!!<br />
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May it be so. Amen and Amen. You are dearly precious and loved!<br />
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Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-46398154424060619192020-07-30T10:44:00.002-04:002020-07-30T11:26:17.434-04:00Peek-a-boo, I see you!<br />
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Remember when you were little and you used to play Peek-a-boo? Or maybe you still do with your children or grandchildren. You know how it goes...covering your face with your hands you exclaim, <i>Peek-a-boo, I see you!</i> as you slowly remove your hands from your face. That's when your delighted child can see your big, adoring smile. <i>I see you!</i><br />
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Well, it seems that's the game I've been playing these days. Except with God. I've been waiting and watching and expecting that at any moment He will remove His hands from His face and I will see Him again, smiling down at me. <i>I see you!</i><br />
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Like you, I've been sideswiped by this Covid thing...days and weeks and months all blend together...an endless litany of hopes being raised and dashed. And this through the planning of two weddings and all that meant to us. I feel like we're living the title of Alvin Plantinga's book, <i>Not the Way It's Supposed to Be.</i> <i> </i><br />
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To be fair, we have not suffered through this time, nor have we paid a tragically high price like others have. My heart and prayers go out to those who have. Yes, we've given up some things, sacrificed some things, and tried to make sense of this new world we've been thrown into. But in spite of that, I do still, at times, find myself acting like a self-centered child, stomping my feet and whining and gazing longingly into the past with a sense of entitlement. Like they say, you don't know what you got til it's gone.<br />
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This 'forced isolation' has brought about something I never expected, nor honestly wanted...face-to-face time with myself. As an introvert, I do spend a lot of time with myself. I know only too well my good, bad, and ugly. But in the past, when it got too hard, I could avoid dealing with my good, bad, and ugly because, heaven knows, I could keep busy! But now how much running away can you do when there's nowhere to run? No classes or studies or events to attend? When busyness happens only within a 2 acre lot with your husband, dog, chickens and guinea pig?<br />
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I feel like I'm in a major<i> Time Out</i>...like when you were little and your parents knew you needed to spend some quiet time alone...hopefully to see that something in you needed to change. Those were never fun times because it seemed that while everyone else was carrying on as before, you were being set aside...and even forgotten if your parents got too busy to remember you!<br />
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<i>Hello God? Anyone there? Remember me? I know I really don't matter much and that what's on my heart and in my life right now...in light of all that's going on this world...isn't of much importance, but I want to come out. Because I'm scared that you may have forgotten me. I know I'm not anyone great, or famous, or important...it's just me. Waiting for you to remember me...to see me. </i><br />
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I have lived with this heart-cry for the past five months, not understanding how wrong I was...<br />
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Until we watched <i>The Chosen. </i>And there I fell in love with a God who wasn't this far-off, far-out, World-Leader who spent His time deciding who or what was most important to work with, using what limited time and energy He had...a God who was so busy with the Big Things that he had no time for the Little Things. Like me.<br />
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And what made me understand that were three little words...Season One, Episode Eight...<br />
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<b><i>I see you.</i></b><br />
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During this scene, Jesus was talking to Peter's wife...a woman who was being left behind to care for not only her sick mother, but to run the home while her husband left to follow the Messiah. Alone...doing the same thing, day after day after day...for who knew how long. Unnoticed and unimpressive. I have this feeling if it were me, I'd be thinking something like, <b><i>Heck!</i></b> <i><b>I need to suck it up. Peter's what's important here. I have to do this. I'll never let him or anyone know the price I will be paying or how hard this is for me. I can do it!</b></i><br />
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But Jesus comes to her, and sees her...inside and out...and basically said to her...my paraphrase... <b style="font-style: italic;">Oh no you don't! Yes, Peter is important, but so are you! You are valuable and you have a role to play in all of this which is no less than Peter's. I know the price you are paying. I see you. </b>And of course she cries because who wouldn't when they realize they are not forgotten or overlooked?<br />
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And yes, I cried also.<br />
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<i>What does this look like in your life? </i><br />
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<i><b>I see you</b> when you are so tired you would rather curl up in a ball and keep sleeping than to get on with a day full of the same thing over and over and over again.</i><br />
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<i><b>I see you</b> when you tried so hard but you still didn't get it right. And you wonder if you ever will.</i><br />
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<i><b>I see you</b> when this thing facing you looks like Goliath but you can't run...you have to face him.</i><br />
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<i><b>I see you</b> when you sob on the inside but smile on the outside.</i><br />
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<b><i>I see you.</i></b><br />
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<b>El Roi...<i>The God who sees. </i></b><br />
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Though it may often feel like it, He hasn't missed a thing...in my life or in your life or in the world. Unlike Peter's wife, He won't show up in flesh and blood to tell us so...more often He lets us know He sees us when...<br />
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<i>-<b>We meet someone who has a kind or encouraging word or book or blog that lights up our soul again...</b></i><br />
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<i><b>-We read something that connects the dots and we sigh with relief...</b></i><br />
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<i><b>-We see something beautiful that takes our breath away and we cry because we remember we are going Home someday and this is not all there is...</b></i><br />
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<i><b>-And a million other ways. He sees us. He knows our needs. and He provides. </b></i><br />
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Most of us will live quiet, unexciting lives...never seen by more than a few. Like Peter's wife. Our culture, however, places a high value on being seen...it encourages us to grab the spotlight and get out there so we can get the praise and recognition we deserve. Having known some prominent people, let me say that it's not what's going on on the outside, it's the heartbeat and mindset on the inside that God sees and blesses.<br />
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And out of a heart that beats for God, and a mind set on Him, comes something beautiful.<br />
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Dear one, remember this...when you are alone and the world feels too big and you wonder how to keep on going...<br />
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You are not alone! He sees every fear, every tear, every hope and every dream you carry. You are passionately and dearly loved.<br />
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You are known,<br />
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You are seen.<br />
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Now go watch The Chosen. You will be blessed. I promise.<br />
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If you want another blessing, put this into your search bar...my page won't let me upload it but trust me, it is a gift . ❤<br />
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https://youtu.be/sz81dIfwf4Y<br />
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<br />Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-65571144619805113262020-05-01T13:26:00.001-04:002020-05-02T12:25:05.285-04:00Thinking is not optional!<br />
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This is a post of confession. My daughter says it's more verbose than my usual posts, but I want to emphasize how someone who has learned so much, can forsake so much.<br />
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It all started this morning, when I came across this meme...<i>Thinking is hard, so just do what the government says.</i><br />
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At first I scrolled past it, but then I found myself drawn back to it...if for no other reason than to read the comments below it. When I was done, I sat there...a small nudge in my spirit telling me that this was important.<br />
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Now I admit that I do squirrel in my thinking...basically talking to myself as I wander through the day...asking myself questions, remarking on things around me, praying for who/what I encounter.<br />
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But that isn't the kind of thinking this meme was referring to. It was referencing something deeper than that...a lack of concentrated, intentional thinking which, the spirit reminded me, has been a scarcity in my life lately.<br />
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I remember a bumper sticker I had confidently put on our older car years ago- <i>Thinking is Not Optional. </i>I was passionate about it then, but do I still believe it now?<br />
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Because lately I've found myself floundering in my understanding of this virus and what it has done to our country. Yes, it is real. And yes, we should have concerns. In the beginning I was accepting and willing to listen and take what I heard as God-given truth. Like the ever obedient child I hoped to be, I followed orders and did what I was told.<br />
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And that worked for about 4 weeks. But it's not working anymore. Because now as I hear about rising suicide rates and domestic abuse and people losing their businesses and inflated statistics, and on and on, I am only getting unsettled and dare I say angry?<br />
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What is the truth? How can I act and react in a just way when all I feel is confused and weary of all the information being thrown at me? Lately it’s been easier to shut down and shut up. But I’m not sure that’s the right thing to do.<br />
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And there are several reasons why...several stages of my life that I know were God-given...<br />
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The first happened years ago, when I discovered Francis Schaeffer's documentary, <i>How Should We Then Live? </i>One of the things that struck me was the part where they discussed discernment and the importance of understanding and recognizing that<i> <b>not all we see and hear and read is the Truth.</b></i> It showed a crime scene, I believe, filmed from several different angles, and how, depending on what angle the photographer chose...what he left in and what he left out...it could change the viewers impression of what happened.<br />
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Following that time I was chosen, along with 100 others from around the world, to participate in Chuck Colson’s Biblical Worldview Program. It was here that I was challenged and taught how to think critically. I came out of that program with a passion for Truth, convinced that apart from it we are building on the shifting sands of our ever-changing culture.<br />
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After graduation, I went on to teach the Truth Project both in prison and in homes. I loved seeing people ‘get it’ as they actively connected the dots and embraced knowledge and wisdom and understanding concerning entertainment, politics, religion, science, etc. I loved what I was doing and I thought this passion would never end.<br />
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But I was wrong.<br />
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What I came to call <i>the dark night of my soul </i>began when in the same year, several life crippling events happened: my mother died, a friend committed suicide, health issues weakened me, beloved pets died, and all the brokenness of life weighed heavily on me sending me into depression. .<br />
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I recalled one of the books I had studied in the Centurion program, <i>Not the Way It's Supposed To Be, </i>but instead of embracing the truth that could have consoled me...that what we experience here on Earth is NOT the way God meant it to be...I got angry and screamed out my pain and frustration. <i>WHY couldn't God change things? WHY didn’t He make</i><i> it all better? Who was this God I thought I knew?</i><br />
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I realize now that it was then that I stopped using the gift he had given me. For years I coasted along, caring but never enough to invest myself again in the passion I once had for Truth.<br />
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This morning's meme was a wake-up call. It reminded me that yes, thinking IS hard...and critical thinking especially takes dedication to a lot time and study. But what is the alternative? I know exactly what it is, for I had taught it for years: blind, unthinking obedience. And history has taught us that that is neither a good, nor a safe place to be.<br />
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And this wake-up call has come at just the right time, for I believe there is a tsunami coming...financially, economically, and culturally. It has been building for awhile and this virus is only sweeping it closer.<br />
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I wonder if we, as Christians, have been given this opportunity of time in seclusion, not to binge Netflix and eat snacks all day (though neither is bad in balance!), but to do some serious soul searching...to become thinkers and doers of the Word...to become empowered to be beacons of Truth and Light in the darkness outside our doors. I know these last several years I have been lulled to sleep, wasting precious time without intentional living. This is my confession. God knows I am truly sorry and I humbly repent.<br />
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It has been said that each of us has been given a gift...one we we must use for the times we have been placed in and for the length of time on earth we have been given. What is your gift my friend? I know the world desperately needs you to use it.<br />
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Ecclesiastes says that to everything there is a time, and a purpose for every season. I believe that the time is drawing near where we may be forced to give an answer for the hope that lies within us...a hope that only comes from building our lives on Truth.<br />
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May we use this time entrusted to us wisely.<br />
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God bless you my friends.<br />
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<br />Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-3271775801005240292020-04-06T13:15:00.000-04:002020-04-06T21:58:07.982-04:00Unchained Melody and the hope it offers for such a time as this<br />
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Remember the song, Unchained Melody by the Righteous Brothers? I do. I grew up with it in the 60's and I remember my mother singing and dancing in the kitchen to not only this song, but those of Roy Orbison, The Mama's and the Papa's, Elvis Presley and so many other greats of that era. I haven't heard this song in years but then I hardly ever listen to Oldies stations anymore. I'm a Classical kind of girl.<br />
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So this morning when I had to take Prissy to the vet for some dental work and she started her pathetic moaning in the backseat of the car, I decided to turn on some music to comfort us both...and yes, probably to drown out her moans. Going to the vets is always as hard on me as it is on her...<br />
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Because I was driving and the sun was shining brightly on the dashboard, I couldn't see the numbers on the dial to find my usual radio station. Figuring anything was better than nothing, I turned up the volume and found myself flying back in time to songs I grew up with. And for better or worse, memories and feelings and emotions that I had long forgotten, or blocked, came flooding back and I could barely drive through the tears.<br />
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At that point I should have shut the radio off but I didn't. So much of what I was remembering was sweet and I didn't want to let go of what I was feeling. For in that moment I wanted nothing more than to go back to a time when life seemed simpler and dreams were dreamed and hope was still alive. A time of great expectation for all that life could offer. A time of innocence and probably ignorance when someone else was in charge and took care of me...when my mother was still alive and we danced in our tiny kitchen to Unchained Melody...and endless days were spent roaming beaches and trail riding through the forest.<br />
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And it was then I realized how very, very tired I am. And how desperately I am in need of hope.<br />
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I want my mother back. I want to go to bed at night in peace and wake up in the morning full of joy and expectation for what the day holds. I don't want to be afraid to go to out...to the store where everyone is wearing masks and staying far apart...to take a walk and all those whom you meet back away from you. Everything seems fragile right now...like at any second it could give way and the weight of the world will crush it. Even me.<br />
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Since I got home, I've been replaying Unchained Melody over and over. Its melody is haunting and its lyrics seductive. And I've just figured out why I need to hear it: <i>because it's not a song from my past, but a promise for my future.</i><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">Don't get me wrong, but I think this is a perfect song for Holy Week...one of the darkest times of history when hope died and fear and loneliness overtook the disciples and they desperately needed to know that God was still there for them. Suppose we divide it up like this...</span></div>
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<i>ME~ Oh, my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch, a long, lonely time.</i></div>
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<i>And time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much, are you still mine?</i></div>
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<i>I need your love, I need your love, God speed your love to me.</i></div>
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<i>GOD~ Lonely rivers flow, to the sea, to the sea, to the open arms of the sea.</i><br />
<i>Lonely rivers sigh, </i><br />
<i>"Wait for me, wait for me</i></div>
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<i>I'll be coming home wait for me."</i></div>
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See what I mean? I AM hungering for Him. And I AM in a long, lonely time. And sometimes I DO wonder, <i>Are You still there? Do You remember me? Lord, I desperately need Your love.</i></div>
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And His response? <i>Wait for Me! I'm coming! </i>And this makes my heart sing...no matter how crazy the world is right now! </div>
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Dear ones, let us wait well...through this pandemic...through the loneliness and questioning and frustration and pain. Through life that maybe did not turn out as we thought it would when we were young. Through this week of our Lord's passion.</div>
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Sunday is coming! We have a cheat sheet. We know that what we are going through now is NOT the end of the story. Good Friday couldn't hold our Lord. Hope is coming. Help is on the way.</div>
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Praise God and Alleluia on all fronts!</div>
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Let us pray for one another. </div>
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Oh, and if you are receiving this by email, chances are that the Youtube video will not appear. But my friend, that will not do. Copy and past the info below into your browser. You need to hear the Righteous Brothers sing Unchained Melody. Trust me. </div>
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<br />Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-16258798618381488272020-03-21T11:40:00.002-04:002020-03-21T22:26:29.534-04:00On keeping calm and trusting God<br />
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Yesterday we made the difficult decision to cancel our daughter's bridal shower that was scheduled for next weekend. It was the right thing to do, especially as several of the wedding party work in the medical field and have been in contact with those carrying the virus.<br />
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Like you, we have been side-swiped by this virus. My son said yesterday, "We're just not used to bad times." And he's right. We've been able to be in control of our lives for so long...do what we want...when we want...that we haven't had to really exercise the one thing much of the world has come to recognize as vital...<br />
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<b>Hope.</b><br />
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This morning, after a more than restless night's sleep; tossing and turning, tossing and turning, having solved the shower issue but now wondering what to do about upcoming wedding plans, I stood up for more coffee and my attention was grabbed by what was happening outside the living room window...<br />
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What moments before had been dead and colorless woods, covered in a fine rain, was now a shining fairyland bathed in sunlight that had broken through the clouds. The dark sky behind it only made the picture more stunning.<br />
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God knows I'm a visual learner so I'm taking this as a confirmation of the conclusion I had so agonizingly come to...<br />
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<b>We need to have Hope...a Hope that shines in the darkness.</b><br />
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Hope that this virus, and all it has done to our lives, did not take God by surprise...<br />
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Hope that He is still on His Throne and in control...<br />
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Hope that we can Let-Go-and-Let-God, because none of His promises have ever, ever failed anyone during times of hardship and therefore we can trust Him.<br />
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What's the alternative? Hey, I can answer this one! Whine? Complain? Be discouraged? Turn to other gods to give us the fix we need? I have done them all this week, I'm ashamed to say.<br />
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Oh, but I have this great excuse I've been using! Want to hear it? <i>I have OCD and it's so difficult to have my world in chaos with things I can't control or put in order.</i><br />
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And it's true. But it's only half the equation. With my eyes on myself the only way is down. God is still God whether I have OCD or any other quirk of human nature. He's bigger than____________. (Fill in the blank) If you can't put your circumstances in the blank, then put in any of the trials and temptations that Daniel, or David, Paul or Jesus faced. That works.<br />
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George Mueller said, <i>"The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith, and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety."</i><br />
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I'm no great theologian but I'd like to offer the idea that <i><b>Faith and Hope walk hand in hand.</b></i><br />
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When we lose faith, we lose hope. And hope deferred makes the heart sick. Heart-sick. That's been me this past week.<br />
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But it's time to say, <i>Enough!</i> If nothing else, this time will show us what we have faith in...where we have placed our hopes. And that's a very valuable gift from a God who loves us no matter what.<br />
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And it could be a wake-up call on all fronts. I know I need it. Do you?<br />
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So, back to the idea of what to do about the wedding. It sounds so simple, but as any of you who have ever helped plan a daughter's wedding know, it's anything but simple! Weddings involve reservations way ahead of time, and lots of down payments on venues and photographers and caterers, etc etc...money all willingly offered. But money that could now be lost if decisions aren't made soon to cancel.<br />
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We had planned on doing the invitations this week...a sweet time of putting together...in paper form...hopes and dreams for the future...a once-in-a-lifetime Mother/ Daughter thing.<br />
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To do or not to do? That has been our heart cry!<br />
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But you know what? If all we lose is the money spent on stamps and invitations...stepping out and putting actions to our hopes will be worth it. The worst that can happen is we have to re-order new invitations with new dates and purchase hundreds more stamps. The best that can happen is our faith will be rewarded.<br />
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We have never known what the future holds. Ever. We just have lived like we have.<br />
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Now we have an opportunity to start afresh.<br />
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I believe with all my heart that all that is going on in our lives will serve us well...not only now, during this difficult time...but for whatever the future holds.<br />
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I carry you in my heart and prayers, dear ones. God's got this.<br />
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<i>Lord, help me not to be anxious, I know that, whatever I am facing, You are right there with me and have promised to never leave me nor forsake me. Help me to trust You, despite the circumstances that surround me. Lord, when I am tempted to be anxious, help me to speak your promises, to overcome the attacks on my mind with answers from your Word. Let me be quick to respond to wrong thoughts and desires by replacing them with good thoughts.</i></div>
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<i>Thank you, Lord, that You light the way before me. You give clear instructions and keep me firmly on the paths of righteousness. I put my complete trust in You. You are my shield and my refuge. You are my rock and my fortress. You are my hiding place and strong tower. In the midst of the storm, You enlighten me with your understanding and give me peace. I refuse to be anxious about anything. </i><br />
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<i>From 'Keep Calm and Trust God'</i><br />
<i>Jake Provance and Keith Provance</i></div>
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<br />Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-49545750192940338992020-01-29T11:30:00.000-05:002020-01-30T08:49:22.224-05:00Open our eyes, Lord!<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">“<i>I used to have this appetite for my life, and it's just gone,”</i> Elizabeth Gilbert wrote, “<i>I want to go someplace where I can marvel at something.”</i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">‘Yes!’ my weary spirit screamed, ‘Exactly!’</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">Turning my eyes from my morning perusal of the iPad screen, I took note of the birds hopping around on the tray feeder outside my living room window. I was especially drawn to one of the Goldfinches, whose feathers ruffled gently in the breeze.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">My first thought was a statement- ‘That would make an amazing picture.’</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">My second thought was a light-bulb moment- ‘And that’s why I take pictures! My camera helps me focus on what’s important or fascinating or beautiful in that moment!’</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">Granted photography...like any hobby or skill...can take you to an unhealthy place where it becomes all about perfection. And that can be downright frustrating, wanting to get it right and beating myself up when I fall short.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">Of course there’s always the tantalizing possibilities that Lightroom and Photoshop dangle in front of you- a Promised Land where no matter how bad your picture is, there’s redemption and the hope of perfection. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">But lately, I’ve been less concerned about getting it right. I’ll probably never achieve acclaim for my photos...except through my gracious family. I’ll probably never win a contest or </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">be on the cover of National Geographic. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">Does that mean I should give up and give in? Sell my camera and equipment on EBay? For sure there have been times when in a fit of disgust over a bad shoot that I seriously contemplated it...times when it seemed I was never going to get the hang of it and what was the use anyway?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">And yet, in spite of it all, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">I am still drawn to photography.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">This morning, during my light-bulb-moment watching the birds, I finally understood that I enjoy photography because it causes me to SEE...to be awake and aware of what’s around me. Have you ever gotten into the car to drive somewhere and you take off and suddenly you’re there and you can’t remember how you got there? That you were oblivious to everything on the way, stuck in auto-pilot mode?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">That’s how life can go if we’re not careful! The days and weeks, months and years fly by. Every week we look at each other and say, on Friday, ‘It can’t be garbage day again! Where did another week go?’</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">Recently, I bought a painting from a woman at JAARS. Her mother-in-law had painted it years ago and she was ready to part with it. It put a smile on my face because it’s a picture of my Happy Place...the place I go to when I need to be refreshed and renewed...Arizona...a </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">place about as opposite the Southeast as is possible! </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">The landscape, the weather, the birds and wildlife all offer me a chance to see with new eyes. Dare I say it’s like going from water to an energy drink?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px; word-spacing: 1px;">So, what do we do when we’re just not seeing anymore? When life is monotonous and drab and washed out? When it seems our days are run on auto-pilot and it’s always Friday again?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;">Should we chuck it all and move somewhere else? Find something new to buy and add to our lives? Moan? Groan? Despair?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;">Well yeah, I definitely dream of the first...and have done the second...and find myself unfortunately doing the others.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;">I told someone yesterday it’s time to take my camera out and go shooting again...it’s been too long. I don’t think I realize it, but I think my spirit does- I’m not seeing life anymore, I’m just living through it. And if I’m not seeing, then I’m not marveling and oohing and aahing over the beauty and the gifts right in front of me. And I’m not so sure that God is pleased with that.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;">I think we can ask God to open our eyes again. I’m pretty sure that’s somewhere in the Bible. Because you know, the more we see what is around us, the more we see Him. And the more we see Him, the more thankful, and grateful, and praise-full we become. And I don’t know about you, but when that happens, I’m much nicer to live with and be around!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;">How about if we ask for the eyes of a child and the wisdom of an adult? I love having my grands around for this reason...they are alive with awareness, noticing things that I have become jaded to. Imagine mixing that with the wisdom we have earned over the years? We would be able to connect-the-dots in a way that should cause us to fall before our Maker in adoration.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;">So the next time we find ourselves hungry for life, let’s remind ourselves that we don’t need to go anywhere to marvel...we have a wealth of blessings around us that we are just not seeing anymore! Allow me to personalize Ephesians 1:18:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;"><i>Open the eyes of our hearts, and let the light of Your truth flood in. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;"><i>Shine Your light on the hope You are calling us to embrace. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;"><i>Reveal to us the glorious riches You are preparing for our inheritance.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;">Amen and Amen! Shine on, dear ones!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;"><i> Open the Eyes of My Heart~ Michael W. Smith</i></span></span><br />
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<br />Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-44902175476378269642019-12-11T09:25:00.003-05:002019-12-11T09:25:33.544-05:00Broken is even more beautiful<br />
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Let me ask you a question at the beginning of this Advent season, <i>How are you with brokenness? Yours? Others? Mankind's in general?</i><br />
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Advent is a gift, one that is best received in quietness. It's a time to open the doors of our hearts to the Light that came into the world, a Light born of love that longs to draw us back to Himself. But as any light will do, it will expose...our hearts...our sins...our failures...our broken dreams...our shattered hopes. Not so that we may be judged, but because He knows, better than we do, how very much we need to be restored. <br />
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Advent is all about reconciliation between a Holy God and broken mankind. It was true 2,000 years ago. And it's still true today.<br />
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Which brings me back again to the question, <i>How are you with brokenness?</i><br />
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<i></i>In our throw-away society it is so easy to discard that which is broken. Of course there are <i>physical things </i>that were never meant to last forever...cars for example. But what about the emotionally and spiritually broken <i>physical people</i> in our lives...those that demand something from us? Advent offers us the gift of time...a mere 4 weeks...to allow our hearts and eyes to be opened to not only <i>why</i> He came, but to figure out <i>what the purpose of His coming means for our everyday lives.</i><br />
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Read the following paragraphs slowly, because afterward I'm going to ask you two important questions:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: adelle, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"><i>"Reconciliation, a work of mediation and peacemaking, follows a prior work of violence. Something has been shattered, unmade, or undone. God’s good creation had hurled itself headlong into destruction, breaking and fracturing family and kin; creation and creator. Groaning for wholeness, the creation waits for its artisan God to come and look with loving gaze, to apply his creative art to restore what we have broken. Under his careful eye and steady hands, the Father will turn each piece about, carefully held for the remaking. And like the broken ceramic, in God’s work of reconciliation, the traces of the break become a source of beauty and strength. The blood of the Son that binds the creation back together shines brightly in the fissure, </i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: adelle, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"><i>tracing where once there was wound. </i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: adelle, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"><i>And so it is that God’s reconciliation with us is not a gilding, but a remaking. </i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: adelle, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"><i>These breaks that caused us to cry out for wholeness become thin, </i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: adelle, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"><i>head-crown halos from which God’s glory shines." Chad Glazener</i></span></div>
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Evidently, in order to be reconciled, there must first be a prior work of violence in our lives. Violence is defined as <i>behavior involving physical force intended to hurt, damage, or kill someone or something.</i> I'm going out on a limb to say it doesn't have to be physical; violence can come through words or attitudes, looks or expressions...anything that hurts, damages, or kills something in someone. <i>Where has violence touched you? Where have you touched others with your acts of violence? </i>Not one of us can escape the truth that we have been hurt and have hurt others<i>. </i>Intentional or unintentional, our acts of un-love must be acknowledged and repented of.</div>
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It comes as no surprise to God that His creation is destroyed, broken, and fractured. Isn't that the reason for His coming? A Love that knew we could never find our way Home to Him on our own? A Longing that knew that unless we become like Him we are doomed to hopeless human futility? That very Love and Longing unleashed a baby into the world to not only be our Savior, but our example and enabler so that we could live and and love like Him. He longs, greater than we do, that we be restored to that for which we were created.</div>
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Have you ever heard of the Japanese technique of Kintsugi? It's the repair of shattered ceramics with powdered gold. It tells the story of brokenness, wholeness, and beauty. It's a visual of something deemed so valuable that it will not be thrown away, no matter how badly it is broken. And that, dear ones, is exactly what God longs to do for each of us: pick up the pieces of our lives to make them a source of beauty and strength. And then send us out to do the same for others. </div>
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We are all broken. We all need to be remade. And I don't know about you, but never once in my life have I been able to successfully restore that which I've broken to a more beautiful state than it was before. Never. My efforts are clumsy and do nothing more than paste the pieces together, pieces that are doomed to fall apart again at some point. </div>
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But God.</div>
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So I'm inviting you...and me...into a time of recognizing our broken, shattered lives for what they are...opportunities to be more beautiful than they are now. I can't do this. You can't do this. The only way it comes about is through repentance and a re-turning to Him...a letting go of the pieces of our lives that only cut and wound us. And then allowing Him to make them into a work of art, a thing of beauty. </div>
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More than anything I pray that we can walk through this Advent season with open hands and hearts...that we can receive this season as a gift from a God who knows that we desperately need to be restored...and to be restorers...not only for our sake, but for the sake of the whole world. </div>
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Advent is a season lit with Hope. Hope that brokenness is not the end. And that what comes after can be so so much more beautiful. </div>
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I wish you all the blessings and hope that Advent offers. Shine on, dear ones!</div>
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Photo Credit- Jennifer the Beholder<br />
<br />Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-36286144463042467892019-10-03T10:39:00.000-04:002019-10-03T10:47:40.526-04:00How are you with Change? Well, let me tell you...<br />
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Things have been crazy here lately...it seems like I'm always playing catch-up, but not enough to ever get ahead, which is frustrating to me, especially when something is swirling around in my mind and I can't grab on to it long enough to make sense of it.<br />
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So I decided yesterday to head out to a local library for some study time...some thinking and quiet time. Evidently they had forgotten that though it's officially Fall on the calendar, it's still Summer in the South. Someone needs to tell them to turn off the heat and put the Air back on! Pondering the other options available, I ended up at Starbucks, the hiding place of great thinkers and needy coffee drinkers. I always thought it was so cute the way they all herded in there...students-of-whatever, hunched over their computers, coffee cups nearby...<br />
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But the fact is, it was air-conditioned, so I joined the throng and settled in.<br />
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So, let me ask you the question of the day, <i>How are you with change?</i><br />
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<i>Do you welcome it? Dread it? Avoid it? All of the above?</i><br />
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Me, I like it once it's underway, but knowing it's coming sets my stress markers off the chart. I'm a creature of habit, who once shaken from her comfortable abode can appreciate change for awhile, but who has to eventually find stability again in the known.<br />
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Hence the problem...I need to make a change. And even though it's for good, it still causes me stress. You want to know why? Because I have faced this change before, and was not successful in it.<br />
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So my trek for a place to study yesterday had its roots in my need to stop procrastinating and face this change head-on. At home there's always something giving credence to the lie that <i>I just can't think about it right now.</i> I knew my only hope was to go somewhere else...to stop...listen...and learn. And drink coffee, of course.<br />
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I don't know that it's necessary to share what I need to change. Suffice it to say it's an issue that the Lord has been wanting me to face...again...for quite some time now.<br />
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When I think of change, what usually comes to mind is what I can DO to make something different. I'm pretty good at fixing a lot of things...temporarily. But change really takes place in the mind. It seems I have two minds: One that is perfectly sensible and reasonable...the one that is motivating me now to make this change for good. I'm thinking this is the one the Holy Spirit works with.<br />
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The second mind? It's contrary and sneaky and seductive and seems to be more inclined to fun than the other one. It's the lying one...the one that justifies wrong actions, and attitudes, and choices. I call this one the Unholy Spirit.<br />
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And these two minds are always at war. It's the Romans 7:15 story that plays out in our lives daily, <i>Oh wretched woman that I am! The things I want to do, I don't do. The things I don't want to do, I end up doing! Who shall deliver me?</i><br />
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Thanks be to God for the Holy Spirit who will aid in me in my deliverance as I call out to Him! Whether it's bondage from wrong actions or attitudes or choices, He is the One who knows me and sees what needs to change in my life. And He gives me the the desire <i>and the ability</i> to implement that change.<br />
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And that's when the battle begins....when I hear the call to make a change and heed it...it's the beginning of two strong mindsets battling it out.<br />
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If you're like me, once you know a necessary change is coming you start thinking, <i>Oh, good! The change I've always needed to make is about to begin! I'll do this and this and this and then everything will be beautiful!</i> Cue <i>Skipping Through the Daisy Field </i>video--<br />
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Which has always been followed a day or two or a week later by weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, <i>Seriously? What was wrong with the way it was? I just can't...it's too hard. Wah, Wah, Wah.</i><br />
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I know this for a fact because I've lived it out over and over again.<br />
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Like any good superhero novel says, <i>Resistance is futile.</i> At least in the flesh. Sure we want to change, but it isn't long until we find that our habits of thought do not want to cooperate with the desire for good.<br />
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And God knows this! It takes repeated times of failure for us to learn that we must not do in the flesh what only can be done in the Spirit. There's a reason the Holy Spirit is Patient and the giver of Self-Control. And best of all, He promises that what He has begun in us, He will finish! So let's let Him fight the battle as we cooperate with Him!<br />
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So what does this mean?<br />
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In honor of all Pastors who extol 3-Point-Sermons, here's my 3-point-Advice based on what God has shown me:<br />
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1. <b>Accept that we will have conflict and resistance.</b> We won't get it right the first time, or the second, or the third. Change is a process, and falling back into old patterns does not mean we have failed! Embrace the failure, reset our dependence on the Holy Spirit, and start once again making the small changes that will lead to bigger and bigger changes over time!<br />
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<b>It's a marathon of choices, not a sprint of success!</b><br />
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2. <b>Prepare for resistance.</b> Every day...over and over again...acknowledge our weakness and our need for and dependence on God, for He gives grace to the humble! Having a grateful and thankful heart for what we CAN do...baby steps of success...removes the desire to live in a grumbling complaining state which does no good for us or the people forced to be around us.<br />
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<b>Praise is a powerful weapon! </b><br />
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3. <b>When you feel resistance rise, PRAY! </b>Do not underestimate the power of your adversary! God knows we can't do it alone...but <i>we </i>often forget that. When we feel ourselves sinking and taking up our old and worn out mantras of, <i>I can't...It's never worked before...I don't care</i> speak truth to it and watch it shrink in power!<br />
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Remember how Christian and Hopeful escaped Doubting Castle? It was the Key of Promise! <b>Find verses that apply to your battle and speak them out loud! </b>You can't fight with what you don't have ready. The enemy hates the Word of God and its power to set us free so let 'em have it!!<br />
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Something else to remember...<b>when you choose one thing at a time...for good...no matter how small or insignificant it may seem...you are not making a choice for the bad.</b> And that is a victory! Battle by battle, until the war is won, my friend!<br />
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And do take advantage of the Kindred Spirits whom God puts in place to travel the journey with you. They are gifts from a God who understands that in the company of others there can be so much more joy and comfort and strength!<br />
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<b>Real change, in whatever form, takes time.</b> Be kind to yourself, forgive yourself, love yourself as God loves you!<br />
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If God has called you to a change, then He will be in you, fighting for you, and giving you the strength to overcome...one battle at a time. Praise be to God, who <b>always</b> causes us to prosper in His will!<br />
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This, my friends, is what I uncovered at Starbucks...the home of great learning! Sometimes I just need to stop long enough to listen...find a quiet place to hear Him. Who knows, maybe Starbucks will be my go-to for future lessons of faith... at least until the library fixes its air conditioning!<br />
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Shine on, dear ones...I'm cheering for you!<br />
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photo credit: Free For Commercial Use (FFC) <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/156555495@N04/42074626864">Confused</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">(license)</a><br />
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photo credit: wuestenigel <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/30478819@N08/48377007896">Close-up of sunflower with bee</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">(license)</a><br />
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<br />Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7196984266810848023.post-57237468007613933652019-08-15T12:13:00.003-04:002019-08-15T12:21:10.520-04:00Who are you comparing yourself to?<br />
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I often say, "I am what I am, by the grace of God, I am."<br />
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This sounds like I'm content with myself, doesn't it? Like I've arrived at a peaceful resting place, where there's no self-contempt or judgement...just abiding in His grace.<br />
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Truthfully, I think I use it more for an excuse and consolation...for the times I fall short or fail...another way of saying, "Well, gosh darn, I still haven't got it right but it's okay...slowly I go, step by step, inch by inch."<br />
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I wish I believed it more...that I'm enough, just as I am...a hodge podge of sin and grace, light and darkness, beauty and scars...custom made by the Master Builder with a purpose in His mind, though often I admit I have no idea what that is!<br />
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For the next 2 weeks I'm preparing for a Life in the Spirit seminar at the church we are attending. I participated in one over 30 years ago when I first came to Christ, and though I remember little of it, I know it helped form me at a stage when I desperately needed to know Him...hear from Him...be more like Him.<br />
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And 30 years later, I still have the same needs!<br />
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I'm hoping this will be a fine-tuning...as in a painting when the first strokes are wide and expansive, the last refined and delicate. But maybe not. Heaven knows any work of the Spirit will be welcomed eagerly!<br />
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One of the readings for today was from Romans, verses 1 and 2, though I got hung up on it and read the whole chapter...<br />
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<i>"Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it's important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. <b>The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what He does for us, NOT by what we are and what we do for Him.</b></i></div>
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<i>In this way we are like the various parts of the human body...since we find ourselves fashioned into all these excellently formed and marvelously functioning parts in Christ's body,<b> let's just go ahead and be what we were made to be, without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren't."</b></i></div>
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And this my friends, is an example of the Spirit speaking.</div>
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This is really the crux of the matter...</div>
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That it's all about Him...<i>Who He is and what He does.</i> It's NOT about me, which is contrary to what our culture screams at us, "Never enough! Never Enough! Never Enough!"<br />
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I shared this on Facebook today. It's Jesus truth. And it sounds so right. And I want to believe it and apply it to my life, thinking it could be the key to freedom from comparison...self-criticism...the yearning to be more than what I am...<br />
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Maybe it's my focus that's off. I mean, I notice all the prettier people...all the smarter people...the younger, healthier, skinnier people. And then I go and do what the Bible says NOT to do, <i>"Compare yourselves amongst yourselves which is not wise."</i><br />
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But how often do I <i>fix my attention on God, Who will change me from the inside out, Who will bring out the best in me? </i>(Romans 1-2)<br />
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There's a tension here...between acknowledging my amazingness and awesomeness <i>because of Who He is and how He made me and the value He places on me.</i>..which should lead to more humility and love and adoration and trust in Him...<br />
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And the willingness to embrace the tender truth that Yes, I <i>DO</i> fall short, <i>not in comparison to others</i>, but with Him as my example. Praise God, He does not judge me or condemn me for where I am, but rather calls me to hope in Him to finish and perfect that which concerns me. And I find great freedom and peace in this. God said it, I believe it, that settles it.<br />
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My prayer is that I will become more aware and alert to my wrong thinking...my wandering eyes...my guilt-induced lambasting...like when I hear a new bird trilling an unknown song outside my window, and I eagerly drop what I am doing to go find it. As I just did.<br />
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And that I will be more sensitive to the Holy Spirit and His quiet whisper to come up higher and closer to Him, looking through His eyes and listening with His heart.<br />
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Maybe I don't have to wait til the weekend of the Seminar for change...because after rereading all I have written, I recognize that He's here at work...right now.<br />
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And He's there with you...whatever you are facing, whatever circumstances you find yourself in.<br />
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May we both find great delight in this.<br />
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Shine on, dear one. You are fearfully and wonderfully made!<br />
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Forever Hishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06991563576950446288noreply@blogger.com2