Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Curly: Love thy neighbor as thyself
The motley gray house was the neighborhood eyesore in its upper middle class subdivision with its undriveable old vehicle permanently parked, piles of unemptied garbage, webs of undergrowth, fading exterior paint and morbidly abandoned appearance. The house was alive in the past when its owner was functional. At this point neither the house nor the man appeared to be so. Actually, it is rumored that the man was very renowned in the community at one time, honored by notable professionals in memoriam, but we are moving ahead in the story.
The two house mascots were a large orange cat and Curly. Both aging animals presented a somewhat snarly “attitude” about their kingdom seemingly unaware of its very decrepit status. Curly resembled the lion statues framing many building staircases. He was crusty, black furred and short in stature with a somewhat puggish nose which made him look like Winston Churchill. He included the street in his territory which gave him the name “speed bump” as he never moved for cars in the intersection. He acted contrary to strangers but graciously and fiercely loyal to his owner. He was a survivor and also a crumudgeon.
One day we noticed the movable car had not returned and later learned its owner had been injured and ultimately succumbed to his injuries. The independent cat took matters in his own hands and left the minute the food supply disappeared. Curly, on the other hand stayed in wait.
Although he was not overtly cordial in the beginning, we set up a pallet, water and food in the garage. The weather was getting cold. Before very long neighbors who walked frequently in the neighborhood brought him daily treats such as chicken. One animal lover drove by throwing him meatballs. He became so attentive that we felt comfortable taking him for bath and shots.
We knew he was sure to be sacrificed at the shelter , so we continued the above care plan until the man’s out of state daughter appeared to try to make arrangements about the house. She was so captivated by the neighborhood love that she ultimately took Curly with her to retire in Florida and reward his faithful loyalty.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Are the Candles Burning?
I just finished a phone call with my sweet and innocent 4 year old granddaughter. Today is bittersweet for me—sweet because of Sarah and sad because it is my husband’s birthday almost 10 years to the date of his passing away.
Miss Sarah was now aware of my cancer and about the challenge to the body for those who have had it for a long time. Her parents and I talked with her about my body wearing out as I am “old” and to her I am. We explained (separately) that my spirit would live forever with God in heaven and that we would always love each other. She shared that she had cried yesterday when she was told; she is trying to make sense of this fundamentally critical information about life. She understood enough about where I would be and also that I was not there now and we can still talk and play. I also shared with her my belief that when I am in Heaven it is hard to imagine, but I will be able to love her even more than I can now.
I talked about her grandpa Bill who is in heaven. I asked if they would have a cake for his birthday today. She said “I think they are making it right now”. Through my tears I asked if he could blow out all 68 candles on the cake or if he needed help. We agreed that the candles are not still burning.
Miss Sarah was now aware of my cancer and about the challenge to the body for those who have had it for a long time. Her parents and I talked with her about my body wearing out as I am “old” and to her I am. We explained (separately) that my spirit would live forever with God in heaven and that we would always love each other. She shared that she had cried yesterday when she was told; she is trying to make sense of this fundamentally critical information about life. She understood enough about where I would be and also that I was not there now and we can still talk and play. I also shared with her my belief that when I am in Heaven it is hard to imagine, but I will be able to love her even more than I can now.
I talked about her grandpa Bill who is in heaven. I asked if they would have a cake for his birthday today. She said “I think they are making it right now”. Through my tears I asked if he could blow out all 68 candles on the cake or if he needed help. We agreed that the candles are not still burning.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Assaulted by Television Commercials
I had a senior moment today. Staring at the TV, I could not remember what Hallmark
Show I was watching. Did I have attention deficit disorder? Was I slipping into dementia? Two of the commercials advertised other shows, causing me to believe that I, as well, was watching them.
It was then I paid attention, escaping my lullingly dazed state. During the period we used to receive one or two commercial ads we are now bombarded by 10!
In the disco light blitz I learned that I should:
1.drink only Florida orange juice
2.find my life-long soul mate on E-Harmony
3.absorb the proper probiotics and antioxidants from Ensure
4.chomp on chewy, trusty Twizlers candy
5.consume Bush Beans because of a talking ghost dog
6.have fun and go lean with Kashi
7.clip OFF on everything in its new clip-on form
8.use the new Sweeper Swiffer and throw out my mop and broom
9.go green with natural cleaners
10.drive a Lincoln from Bayway Chevrolet
11.consult Comcast travel and leisure station
12.“Be Myself” on South Padre Island.
No wonder I am confused. Perhaps it is not just my age that interferes with orientation.
Show I was watching. Did I have attention deficit disorder? Was I slipping into dementia? Two of the commercials advertised other shows, causing me to believe that I, as well, was watching them.
It was then I paid attention, escaping my lullingly dazed state. During the period we used to receive one or two commercial ads we are now bombarded by 10!
In the disco light blitz I learned that I should:
1.drink only Florida orange juice
2.find my life-long soul mate on E-Harmony
3.absorb the proper probiotics and antioxidants from Ensure
4.chomp on chewy, trusty Twizlers candy
5.consume Bush Beans because of a talking ghost dog
6.have fun and go lean with Kashi
7.clip OFF on everything in its new clip-on form
8.use the new Sweeper Swiffer and throw out my mop and broom
9.go green with natural cleaners
10.drive a Lincoln from Bayway Chevrolet
11.consult Comcast travel and leisure station
12.“Be Myself” on South Padre Island.
No wonder I am confused. Perhaps it is not just my age that interferes with orientation.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
PAUL’S READER’S DIGEST VERSION OF LIVING THE CHRISTIAN LIFE
Be Joyful in Hope
Be Patient in Affliction
Be Faithful in Prayer
Romans 12:12
Be Patient in Affliction
Be Faithful in Prayer
Romans 12:12
Monday, June 22, 2009
In the Folds of the Comforter
Deliciously dozing
Dazed by delight
Purring weightless
Dreaming contentment.
Three spirit-cats
Sleeping in the peaks and valleys
Of a naked down comforter,
Mindful only of safety and comfort.
Lord, make us solely mindful
Of Enfoldment in the Deep Folds of Your
Enwrapping Love, Safety and Comfort.
You are the Great Comforter.
Dazed by delight
Purring weightless
Dreaming contentment.
Three spirit-cats
Sleeping in the peaks and valleys
Of a naked down comforter,
Mindful only of safety and comfort.
Lord, make us solely mindful
Of Enfoldment in the Deep Folds of Your
Enwrapping Love, Safety and Comfort.
You are the Great Comforter.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
How Fortunate I Am
For over 25 years while ending a Chinese meal out I would tell the following story.
I always note a moment of almost childhood excitement as guests pretend to struggle over the order of reaching for the fortune cookies, an almost magical belief that yours will be special and some disappointment if others get the good fortune, as if it will come true. Fortunes are then read and evaluated and even at times the words “in bed” are added to the reading.
Twenty five years ago I searched through a large bowl of cookies carefully and upon opening it discovered it was empty…..empty!!!! The existential question I suffered from was if that meant I had NO fortune I was indeed unfortunate. My inner self recovered fairly quickly and I announced to the group that it meant “I get to make my own”.
Who would ever believe the odds that this scenario was repeated again this week and in front of a friend who was present at the first event! In evaluating the past 25 years I conclude that I have indeed been very fortunate.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Miss Odessa Cat
Miss Odessa Cat is now retired, but here are two shots of her in her younger career days:
My Testimony
When I invited Jesus into my 6 year old heart I loved Him; I had no doubts.
After 57 years of life I love Him and have no doubts.
I have chronicles of experience of how He has been with me even and especially when I was not close to Him. I have lived both close and far from Him and by far close is better!
He has given me grace and mercy……grace just enough and just in time. As a mother I cannot imagine giving up your only son for the salvation of those who will believe.
As I walk towards Heaven I can truly say that God has been my Father, Counselor, Savior and Bridegroom. In the last 15 years I have lived with Cancer, widowhood and numerous losses. God has given me joy, the family of God and constant comfort. He resurrected me from death episodes three times in five years. He showed me what is important. He has brought me children and their children that love Him. I often identify with Job and God’s ultimate care for him.
I look to Psalm 23 (NIV) to express my testimony:
(1) “Because the Lord is my shepherd I have everything I need.” Even when I may think I need more.
(2) “He lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside the quiet streams.” When I feel stressed He calls me to find rest. I become the baby lamb I have seen resting in the crook of His arm.
(3) “He restores my failing health.” I trust Him as my great physician.
(3) “He helps me to do what honors Him the most.” Especially when I want to do
what honors me the most.
(4) “Even when walking through the dark valley of death I will not be afraid for you are close beside me guarding, guiding all the way.” You never leave us or forsake us. You are with us in the most alone experiences of birth and death.
(5) “You provide delicious food for me…you have welcomed me as your guest; blessings overflow.” I accept your gracious hospitality and praise the overflowing of good things.
(6) “Your goodness and unfailing kindness shall be with me all of my life and afterward I will live with you forever in your house.” What more could I need forever?
Things Are Not Always As They Seem To Be
I received the legacy of china knick knacks from several generations. As I was passing them on to my daughter we tried to make meaning of them. I am someone who should be purchasing “Antiques for Dummies”.
I was especially impressed with a blue and white set of china that a friend assisted me in displaying on my, oh I don’t really know its name but it sits atop the very old buffet of my mother. As I tried to describe it to others I remembered such antique words as “spode” and “toile”, whatever they meant.
As our admiration for the mysterious china grew, we chose it as the theme of my daughter’s new dining room. We purchased classic toile blue and white valences and I sewed a door curtain sporting a stylish blue braided tassel.
I began questioning both sides of my family to understand the meaning of such valuable legacies.
The paternal grandparent relatives had no recollection of grandma ever owning such. The maternal aunt recalled that the maternal grandmother hated any china bearing a pattern………..um?
We resorted to Mother Internet. She held the answer. These Enoch Wedgwood Liberty Blue dishes were given away at A & P grocery stores to honor the U.S. bi-centennial in 1976. Yes, I had actually heard the word Wedgwood somewhere at least! It was then I recalled that the paternal grandma was a serious celebrant of the bi-centennial, having tediously crocheted two king-sized flag coverlets. Apparently she shopped at A & P frequently in 1976 and never told her family.
At last our dining room found its sentimental meaning.
I was especially impressed with a blue and white set of china that a friend assisted me in displaying on my, oh I don’t really know its name but it sits atop the very old buffet of my mother. As I tried to describe it to others I remembered such antique words as “spode” and “toile”, whatever they meant.
As our admiration for the mysterious china grew, we chose it as the theme of my daughter’s new dining room. We purchased classic toile blue and white valences and I sewed a door curtain sporting a stylish blue braided tassel.
I began questioning both sides of my family to understand the meaning of such valuable legacies.
The paternal grandparent relatives had no recollection of grandma ever owning such. The maternal aunt recalled that the maternal grandmother hated any china bearing a pattern………..um?
We resorted to Mother Internet. She held the answer. These Enoch Wedgwood Liberty Blue dishes were given away at A & P grocery stores to honor the U.S. bi-centennial in 1976. Yes, I had actually heard the word Wedgwood somewhere at least! It was then I recalled that the paternal grandma was a serious celebrant of the bi-centennial, having tediously crocheted two king-sized flag coverlets. Apparently she shopped at A & P frequently in 1976 and never told her family.
At last our dining room found its sentimental meaning.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
My Cancer Companion
Seven is considered a lucky, perhaps sacred number. After my breast cancer diagnosis it was the number of years I imagined my survival to be. I am now fourteen years beyond diagnosis, an unexpected double blessing.
I have moved past the initial fear and panic, rush to cure, into an intimate cellular and emotional relationship with my cancer. It is now ownership, not victimization. Paradoxically I oppose and embrace it. It IS me, but I am more than it.
I have indeed met the enemy. It took away my breast, financial stability, vocation and “pseudo-sense of control”. It dramatically brought me into death’s lobby three times in five years. It destroyed any remnants of superficiality. Shopping and acquisition no longer satisfy. Matters of essence and eternity have replaced them.
Cancer is the great distiller, centrifuging truth to the surface, discarding toxins and purifying a person.
In the beginning I felt mostly shame and embarrassment. In 1995 pink ribbon mentality was less developed. Surely I was some sort of “health criminal” who had violated healthy living laws, perhaps consuming too much ice cream or McDonald's cheeseburgers. As a baby boomer I had lived my young adulthood in the 50’s ethic of caring for others first and was not attuned to the later “self care” culture. I should have been more self disciplined and “ yoga…ish.” As a psychotherapist of many years I was familiar with professional literature blaming disease on stress. My brain was bombarded by shoulds and shame.
A personal issue for me was my Minnesota upbringing. Self-effacement and “invisibility” are valued traits along with stoic silent suffering. The breast cancer diagnosis shot large holes in my need for invisibility. To complicate matters I moved away from all familiar identity to a small town in west Texas to support my husband’s executive position at a university. I arrived months after him as a balding post-mastectomy patient. Who was I? Who did they think I was? I left behind my breast, my home, my older teen-aged children, my job, my car, put my geriatric Shetland sheep dog to sleep and moved into an isolated rental house on the road to the prison. I knew no one.
Just as I later learned as a new widow, people don’t know how to “be” with those who are attacked by life’s bullets. Some avoid, some over attend and invalidize you. For someone who was always the “helper” the glaring status of cancer patient was uncomfortable and invasive.
I decided that loss of a breast seemed to mean the loss of your brain, your value, or your dependability. Others hesitated to make requests, overprotected you, and did not always include you. Such doubtful approaches leveled my self esteem which on some days already had a hard time standing alone.
Some well-meaning folks seemed fearful that cancer was contagious. Some interrogated you about your history and life habits hoping that they may be spared if theirs were different than yours. Some brought “cure” books sporting simple rules to recovery. They purported consuming algae and brown rice while you could barely keep water down after chemotherapy. Such simplicity seemed to calm their anxiety. It only made me feel my “wrongness”.
Even professional interaction could inflict wounds. My first oncologist never wore a smile and seemed more interested in her designer wardrobe than in me. One day she curtly commented that “at least I had something they could treat”. I did not know if I should apologize and internalized the comment that I was not even an adequate cancer patient. Fortunately I was allowed to meet more compassionate providers along the way.
Phase Two
My cancer resembles an Oreo cookie, beginning with its dark crumbly foundation. In the middle years it was filled with a sweet creamy center. For 9 years I only experienced cancer in anticipation of annual exams and possibly threatening outcomes. I rebuilt my life and work and experienced loving friends, children and grandchildren. Reality did continue its attack as I lost my husband and both parents and 3 beloved dogs within several years. The early cancer years had taught me critical survival lessons that held me in good stead during this grief and recovery process.
Suddenly one Sunday in January life slammed the dark top cookie over the sweet filling. My 105 degree fever and revelation of dreaded cancer recurrence attacking my colon hit me like a bomb. I was just one year away from no longer having to pay outrageously expensive high risk health insurance premiums. More important, I was no longer a poster child. This represented serious failure on my part. Over 5 months I experienced major colon surgery, chemotherapy and respiratory side effects from the chemo resulting in hospitalization for a month and ventilator dependence for 2 weeks. During the next 4 months I did rehab exercise and was tethered to home oxygen.
I never returned to the job, home and lifestyle I had just created in a small mid-Texas town and moved overnight to live near a major cancer treatment facility where my daughter lived. Through its personal and integrated services my outpatient recovery progressed. My rehab doctor poignantly reminded me that “you can’t hurry slow” and rehab is slow. Again, the question of who am I?
Phase Three
Fast forward several years. Life was good. Breathing freely was wonderful. I had sat down on a nail and getting up felt so very good. I still kept grieving all I had lost and whom I had been and imagined recreating it until……………I realized that we must let go of the life we planned in order to accept the life we have.
I obsessed over worthless thoughts such as wondering if I had time to finish tasks or fulfill dreams. Now that I had returned from death’s door twice this kind of preservation versus production mentality haunted me.
I had always felt abnormal, isolated, and bad in this life/death cancer dilemma until one day the light bulb turned on. I am just living the human dilemma common to us all. I might be more conscious of death lurking around the corner, but all of us live on that street. We live in a conspiracy of silence and denial. We act shocked (and of course saddened) when an acquaintance or loved one dies. Look at the evidence. We have no exceptions to this rule. Not to live in despair or doom we must look at truth head-on to really live. One of the strongest human fears is that of uncertainty. It can shrink in the evidence of certainty. We know what that certainty is about life. The body always betrays us. We must be attached to more than our physical body to be a survivor. We must inhabit our spirit and our mind. This is transendence. For me it is God’s grace granting me the faith to have purpose and comfort.
Phase Four
Okay. Back to the Oreo cookie analogy . Interesting that during this time Oreo came out with “double stuff” cookies. Just after my second cream filling came another black cookie layer! Because the cancer had spread we moved from hormone therapy to another big chemo weapon. Yes, this ammo again inflamed my lungs and resulted in another ventilator dependent icu stay only this time it was during a vacation to another state. What I learned………….strangers did not understand me and my condition as well as my primary oncologist. Because they did not know me they were encouraging my family to let me die. I am a believer in advance directives, but God told me in that ER very strongly that it was not right for me to execute that decision at that time.
Again, a 3 week stay and a 5 month rehab taught me patience. This time I really surrendered to accepting life as it came to me and the journey has been blessed. Friends, strangers, grandchildren, events have encircled me and sustained me to my core. I see that I have never needed anything I wasn’t provided although the grace frequently came at a different time and in a different form than I anticipated.
In January of this year I had a 3rd such episode and emerged from the ventilator realizing that we had taken enough risks from chemo and were now on our own.
I live in the spirit of love, faith and God’s grace dispensed to me. We all do and when you doubt just experience His gentle hand on your shoulder, love in the faces around you and receive hope. God is preparing a place for me and I hope that I am preparing for Him.
I have moved past the initial fear and panic, rush to cure, into an intimate cellular and emotional relationship with my cancer. It is now ownership, not victimization. Paradoxically I oppose and embrace it. It IS me, but I am more than it.
I have indeed met the enemy. It took away my breast, financial stability, vocation and “pseudo-sense of control”. It dramatically brought me into death’s lobby three times in five years. It destroyed any remnants of superficiality. Shopping and acquisition no longer satisfy. Matters of essence and eternity have replaced them.
Cancer is the great distiller, centrifuging truth to the surface, discarding toxins and purifying a person.
In the beginning I felt mostly shame and embarrassment. In 1995 pink ribbon mentality was less developed. Surely I was some sort of “health criminal” who had violated healthy living laws, perhaps consuming too much ice cream or McDonald's cheeseburgers. As a baby boomer I had lived my young adulthood in the 50’s ethic of caring for others first and was not attuned to the later “self care” culture. I should have been more self disciplined and “ yoga…ish.” As a psychotherapist of many years I was familiar with professional literature blaming disease on stress. My brain was bombarded by shoulds and shame.
A personal issue for me was my Minnesota upbringing. Self-effacement and “invisibility” are valued traits along with stoic silent suffering. The breast cancer diagnosis shot large holes in my need for invisibility. To complicate matters I moved away from all familiar identity to a small town in west Texas to support my husband’s executive position at a university. I arrived months after him as a balding post-mastectomy patient. Who was I? Who did they think I was? I left behind my breast, my home, my older teen-aged children, my job, my car, put my geriatric Shetland sheep dog to sleep and moved into an isolated rental house on the road to the prison. I knew no one.
Just as I later learned as a new widow, people don’t know how to “be” with those who are attacked by life’s bullets. Some avoid, some over attend and invalidize you. For someone who was always the “helper” the glaring status of cancer patient was uncomfortable and invasive.
I decided that loss of a breast seemed to mean the loss of your brain, your value, or your dependability. Others hesitated to make requests, overprotected you, and did not always include you. Such doubtful approaches leveled my self esteem which on some days already had a hard time standing alone.
Some well-meaning folks seemed fearful that cancer was contagious. Some interrogated you about your history and life habits hoping that they may be spared if theirs were different than yours. Some brought “cure” books sporting simple rules to recovery. They purported consuming algae and brown rice while you could barely keep water down after chemotherapy. Such simplicity seemed to calm their anxiety. It only made me feel my “wrongness”.
Even professional interaction could inflict wounds. My first oncologist never wore a smile and seemed more interested in her designer wardrobe than in me. One day she curtly commented that “at least I had something they could treat”. I did not know if I should apologize and internalized the comment that I was not even an adequate cancer patient. Fortunately I was allowed to meet more compassionate providers along the way.
Phase Two
My cancer resembles an Oreo cookie, beginning with its dark crumbly foundation. In the middle years it was filled with a sweet creamy center. For 9 years I only experienced cancer in anticipation of annual exams and possibly threatening outcomes. I rebuilt my life and work and experienced loving friends, children and grandchildren. Reality did continue its attack as I lost my husband and both parents and 3 beloved dogs within several years. The early cancer years had taught me critical survival lessons that held me in good stead during this grief and recovery process.
Suddenly one Sunday in January life slammed the dark top cookie over the sweet filling. My 105 degree fever and revelation of dreaded cancer recurrence attacking my colon hit me like a bomb. I was just one year away from no longer having to pay outrageously expensive high risk health insurance premiums. More important, I was no longer a poster child. This represented serious failure on my part. Over 5 months I experienced major colon surgery, chemotherapy and respiratory side effects from the chemo resulting in hospitalization for a month and ventilator dependence for 2 weeks. During the next 4 months I did rehab exercise and was tethered to home oxygen.
I never returned to the job, home and lifestyle I had just created in a small mid-Texas town and moved overnight to live near a major cancer treatment facility where my daughter lived. Through its personal and integrated services my outpatient recovery progressed. My rehab doctor poignantly reminded me that “you can’t hurry slow” and rehab is slow. Again, the question of who am I?
Phase Three
Fast forward several years. Life was good. Breathing freely was wonderful. I had sat down on a nail and getting up felt so very good. I still kept grieving all I had lost and whom I had been and imagined recreating it until……………I realized that we must let go of the life we planned in order to accept the life we have.
I obsessed over worthless thoughts such as wondering if I had time to finish tasks or fulfill dreams. Now that I had returned from death’s door twice this kind of preservation versus production mentality haunted me.
I had always felt abnormal, isolated, and bad in this life/death cancer dilemma until one day the light bulb turned on. I am just living the human dilemma common to us all. I might be more conscious of death lurking around the corner, but all of us live on that street. We live in a conspiracy of silence and denial. We act shocked (and of course saddened) when an acquaintance or loved one dies. Look at the evidence. We have no exceptions to this rule. Not to live in despair or doom we must look at truth head-on to really live. One of the strongest human fears is that of uncertainty. It can shrink in the evidence of certainty. We know what that certainty is about life. The body always betrays us. We must be attached to more than our physical body to be a survivor. We must inhabit our spirit and our mind. This is transendence. For me it is God’s grace granting me the faith to have purpose and comfort.
Phase Four
Okay. Back to the Oreo cookie analogy . Interesting that during this time Oreo came out with “double stuff” cookies. Just after my second cream filling came another black cookie layer! Because the cancer had spread we moved from hormone therapy to another big chemo weapon. Yes, this ammo again inflamed my lungs and resulted in another ventilator dependent icu stay only this time it was during a vacation to another state. What I learned………….strangers did not understand me and my condition as well as my primary oncologist. Because they did not know me they were encouraging my family to let me die. I am a believer in advance directives, but God told me in that ER very strongly that it was not right for me to execute that decision at that time.
Again, a 3 week stay and a 5 month rehab taught me patience. This time I really surrendered to accepting life as it came to me and the journey has been blessed. Friends, strangers, grandchildren, events have encircled me and sustained me to my core. I see that I have never needed anything I wasn’t provided although the grace frequently came at a different time and in a different form than I anticipated.
In January of this year I had a 3rd such episode and emerged from the ventilator realizing that we had taken enough risks from chemo and were now on our own.
I live in the spirit of love, faith and God’s grace dispensed to me. We all do and when you doubt just experience His gentle hand on your shoulder, love in the faces around you and receive hope. God is preparing a place for me and I hope that I am preparing for Him.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Should I let go of what I have in hopes of something better?
Six-month old baby Ryan sat in his playpen, pacifier in mouth.
His big blue eyes rested upon another pacifier sitting in the playpen.
He wore an expression of puzzled, pained exasperation.
What do I do?
He briefly tried putting the pacifier on his forehead, into his ear and onto another toy.
Aren’t we often totally satisfied with what soothes us until we see something else come across our path leaving us in dire indecision and discontentment?
Aren’t we often totally satisfied with what soothes us until we see something else come across our path leaving us in dire indecision and discontentment?
Monday, June 1, 2009
Meerkat Motto
Respect the Elders, Teach the Young,
Cooperate with the Family.
Play when you can, Work when you should
Rest In Between.
Share your Affection, Voice your Feelings,
Leave your Mark.
© Fellow Earthlings' Wildlife Center, Inc.
This motto is extremely wise advice. I love visiting the meerkats at the Houston Zoo. It is such a loyal and ethical society. One of my miniature-sized cats, Mercy, often seems to be a meerkat.
They leave us a powerful example as they begin the day the entire group faces East. At sunset the mob faces West. I want to remember to begin and end my days looking at my God.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Lessons Learned in Abilene
In 1995 God called my husband to establish a physical therapy school at Hardin Simmons University. God’s sense of humor brought two runaway Baptists to a Baptist University in a very Baptist town. My three favorite things are water, trees and hills. Outside of Abilene where we moved we had no water, no trees and no hills! I arrived there with a fresh cancer diagnosis and surgery and knew no one. I left behind my house, my children, my aging dog, my job, my car, my friends and my whole identity. I emerged 4 years later as a homeless widow.
Here is a brief list of lessons I learned in Abilene, a place I never imagined living:
1) My life is “standing on the scaffolding” always waiting for the elusive “final, settled” house to be built. I now know it is heaven that I am imagining.
2) I met an “Angel in the Alley” who ministered to my yard and my pool…and my soul after Bill died.
3) Life is “not about you”.
4) You always worry about the wrong things.
5) I had a great experience getting to know the family of God.
6) “Lord, why didn’t you just email the plan? Why did I have to go through all of this?
7) My life has been a smorgasbord of preparation…why so many interruptions between servings?
8) Best advice: “Just do the next thing.”
9) All my needs were met…….but in His time.
10) It was all beyond my imagination.
11) I love the blessing of fur……….I want to be a Noah in Heaven.
12) “Lord, You want me to do WHAT!”
13) I told you Lord I was willing to die but you wanted me to live and follow your mission.
14) What if I had told you “no!”? I certainly would have missed the blessing.
15) Knowing that things will fall into place after you surrender bears no correlation to a hurry towards surrender.
16) I experienced “addition by subtraction”.
17) I began to understand “lost and found” and that the “found” sometimes transcends the “lost” in ways you would never guess.
18) Stuff does not matter.
Here is a brief list of lessons I learned in Abilene, a place I never imagined living:
1) My life is “standing on the scaffolding” always waiting for the elusive “final, settled” house to be built. I now know it is heaven that I am imagining.
2) I met an “Angel in the Alley” who ministered to my yard and my pool…and my soul after Bill died.
3) Life is “not about you”.
4) You always worry about the wrong things.
5) I had a great experience getting to know the family of God.
6) “Lord, why didn’t you just email the plan? Why did I have to go through all of this?
7) My life has been a smorgasbord of preparation…why so many interruptions between servings?
8) Best advice: “Just do the next thing.”
9) All my needs were met…….but in His time.
10) It was all beyond my imagination.
11) I love the blessing of fur……….I want to be a Noah in Heaven.
12) “Lord, You want me to do WHAT!”
13) I told you Lord I was willing to die but you wanted me to live and follow your mission.
14) What if I had told you “no!”? I certainly would have missed the blessing.
15) Knowing that things will fall into place after you surrender bears no correlation to a hurry towards surrender.
16) I experienced “addition by subtraction”.
17) I began to understand “lost and found” and that the “found” sometimes transcends the “lost” in ways you would never guess.
18) Stuff does not matter.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Imprisoned
Today I was imprisoned in the world of my small self,
a shrunken world confined to trivia,Thoughts of other people held in terms of ME;
only disappointment in everything I see.
Today I missed God’s glory
ablaze on sunlit trees
lost instead in self absorption
blind to all that’s free.
I dwelt within the small world forbidding love, refusing light,
Clutching pride, defending ME.
My world of self soon withers, growing cold in oblique night.
It cannot grow, exist without God’s sunshine bright.
God is Love; God is Light.
May I know the big world of God’s love and liberty
no more to dwell within the confines of my prison.
I cannot imprison God in that small world of just me.
“The Lord sets free the prisoners”. Psalm 146:7
a poem written by Sharon Danielson Gould in 1964 while in college.
a shrunken world confined to trivia,Thoughts of other people held in terms of ME;
only disappointment in everything I see.
Today I missed God’s glory
ablaze on sunlit trees
lost instead in self absorption
blind to all that’s free.
I dwelt within the small world forbidding love, refusing light,
Clutching pride, defending ME.
My world of self soon withers, growing cold in oblique night.
It cannot grow, exist without God’s sunshine bright.
God is Love; God is Light.
May I know the big world of God’s love and liberty
no more to dwell within the confines of my prison.
I cannot imprison God in that small world of just me.
“The Lord sets free the prisoners”. Psalm 146:7
a poem written by Sharon Danielson Gould in 1964 while in college.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Brief
To update the curve on the journey………….feeling good but choices to fight the almost 15 year cancer companion have ended in the chemo world without guaranteeing lung collapse and 3 times are enough for that.
I am placing an order for God’s rod and staff and bright lights for the shadow trip. I invite you to walk it with me, my friends. We are already walking it as earth people. Join hands. I am walking with you on your journey. God is walking with us all and He holds the map.
I am placing an order for God’s rod and staff and bright lights for the shadow trip. I invite you to walk it with me, my friends. We are already walking it as earth people. Join hands. I am walking with you on your journey. God is walking with us all and He holds the map.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Mother
Photo of me, David and Susan in 1978My Mother's Day Memories
… May 1958, a Minnesota church basement “mother-daughter tea” adorned in hat, gloves and a home-made Chanel suit reciting a mother- honoring poem. God is good.
…May 1973, smelling the sweet innocence of my red-headed first-born and of his daddy’s honorary red roses. God is good.
…May 1978, caressing in awe my beautiful “rosebud” infant daughter, believing that life could never be better than loving my children God is good.
…May 2000, grieving a mother lost at 88 two months earlier and my life-long husband of 57 ten months prior, I felt understandably fragile. Driving to church in my husband’s car I experienced an epiphany that I would thank God for it and begin calling it “my” car. Some peace began to grow in my heart as I recall crossing the bridge on First Avenue where the surrender occurred.
On the way home, growing more comfortable in my break-through, my car was hit by a drunk driver where we were the only 2 cars on the quiet road in front of the university. I sat pitifully on the curb with police and tow truck tearfully reviewing my bruises and never saw the car again.
After 2 days in the ugliest purple rental car ever made, I received courage to go to the Toyota dealer and ask them if they intended to repair the Avalon as good as new and they assured me they would. With a sudden burst of courage I told them that was good because they could keep it and give me the Rav 4 demo on their lot in exchange. I have driven this car for 9 years now and it has met my economy and lifestyle needs more perfectly than the older inherited Avalon ever would. A lesson of surrender where I was given exactly what I would need hours after the epiphany. God is good.
Oh, a footnote……later that evening when my son called to ask me how my Mother’s Day had gone I replied “SMASHING, SIMPLY SMASHING”!
...May 2004, an ICU life/death crisis while I was on a ventilator with chemotherapy side effects (which also occurred in 2007 and 2009) while my children and their new church prayed for my recovery. Again. God is good.
…May 2009, God has granted me the love of 4 grandchildren and I discovered that life could actually be even better than I could have imagined in 1978 . Love can peak, but then the real epitome is the overflow of that love. I love my children and their mates even more as they parent. Who could have known this joy?
God is good.
Anatomy
The grandbaby’s greatest accomplishment to date is getting his foot into his mouth.
His grandma’s greatest hope to date is the ability to get hers out!
His grandma’s greatest hope to date is the ability to get hers out!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
A Restart after Easter: Personal Perspective
These essays seem to be shifting to a more conversational mode. To those of you blessed and patient readers, I feel the need for me to have more personal process. Please feel free to comment, or email. Prepare for random, rambling commentary on my inner and outer life. Spell check will make frequent attacks about “fragment” in its critique.
“Be where you are.” I am aware of being in a unique position for me. I have always been a doer, life dictated by those with whom I am related…..work, clients, family, and friends. Now I am a “watcher”, “observer”, reflector, feeler, not a doer. During the first few years of widowhood I manically created a second “twenties” decade of possibility and laid down foundation for what I imagined to be the birth of life’s second half. I moved, built and decorated a house, started a counseling business.
Five years ago when cancer reattacked I began the era of “reduction”. I spent a lot of effort pretending to be who I used to be and imagining how to recreate it. Slowly I have surrendered what I don’t have and begun being where I am. I have discovered gifts of time, gifts of perspective and some acceptance that life goes forward, not backward.
My most stubborn surrender has been letting go of being in charge and commenting on everything I see as if my opinion really mattered. Lots of mouth bruises as I bite my tongue. As I watch children, grandchildren, friends and television characters rightfully live their lives, I am discerning what is my business and what is not…..which I have always said is the most important distinction in life and can cause the most misery. Two disclaimers: I will yell and run if a child is headed into traffic and I will answer as thoughtfully as possible when actually asked. Otherwise I will notice and pray for what I see.
“Be where you are.” I am aware of being in a unique position for me. I have always been a doer, life dictated by those with whom I am related…..work, clients, family, and friends. Now I am a “watcher”, “observer”, reflector, feeler, not a doer. During the first few years of widowhood I manically created a second “twenties” decade of possibility and laid down foundation for what I imagined to be the birth of life’s second half. I moved, built and decorated a house, started a counseling business.
Five years ago when cancer reattacked I began the era of “reduction”. I spent a lot of effort pretending to be who I used to be and imagining how to recreate it. Slowly I have surrendered what I don’t have and begun being where I am. I have discovered gifts of time, gifts of perspective and some acceptance that life goes forward, not backward.
My most stubborn surrender has been letting go of being in charge and commenting on everything I see as if my opinion really mattered. Lots of mouth bruises as I bite my tongue. As I watch children, grandchildren, friends and television characters rightfully live their lives, I am discerning what is my business and what is not…..which I have always said is the most important distinction in life and can cause the most misery. Two disclaimers: I will yell and run if a child is headed into traffic and I will answer as thoughtfully as possible when actually asked. Otherwise I will notice and pray for what I see.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The Promise of Coming Home
Jeremiah 31: 1-17
Living Bible translation
(v.1) “All the families will recognize me as Lord….they shall act like my people. “
Finally, Lord, we will really act like your people?
(v.2) “I will care for them as I did those who escaped from Egypt, to whom I showed my mercies…when Israel sought for rest.”
You will care for us and give us rest!
(v.3) “I have loved you, O my people, with an everlasting love; with lovingkindness I have drawn you to me.”
Thank you for seeking us out and loving us forever!
(v. 4) “You will be happy again and dance merrily.”
What hope for the future!
(v.7) “Sing with Joy for all that I do. Shout out with Praise and joy. The Lord has saved His people.
We will sing. We will shout.
(v.9) “Tears of joy shall stream down their faces and I will lead them home with great care. They shall walk beside the quiet streams and not stumble for I am a Father.”
Oh, Father, how blessed. Lead us home with great care by quiet streams!
(v 12) “They shall come home and sing songs of joy upon the hills of Zion and shall be radiant over the goodness of the Lord….their life will be like a watered garden and all their sorrows shall be gone.”
Praise you our Father!
(v13) “The young girls will dance for joy…I will turn their mourning into joy and I will comfort them and make them rejoice.”
Thank you Lord for leaving our sorrows behind us.
(v16) “But the Lord says: Don’t cry any longer, for I have heard your prayers and you will see them again; they will come back to you.” (v.17) “There is hope for your future.”
Our future is in God’s hands. Don’t cry.
Living Bible translation
(v.1) “All the families will recognize me as Lord….they shall act like my people. “
Finally, Lord, we will really act like your people?
(v.2) “I will care for them as I did those who escaped from Egypt, to whom I showed my mercies…when Israel sought for rest.”
You will care for us and give us rest!
(v.3) “I have loved you, O my people, with an everlasting love; with lovingkindness I have drawn you to me.”
Thank you for seeking us out and loving us forever!
(v. 4) “You will be happy again and dance merrily.”
What hope for the future!
(v.7) “Sing with Joy for all that I do. Shout out with Praise and joy. The Lord has saved His people.
We will sing. We will shout.
(v.9) “Tears of joy shall stream down their faces and I will lead them home with great care. They shall walk beside the quiet streams and not stumble for I am a Father.”
Oh, Father, how blessed. Lead us home with great care by quiet streams!
(v 12) “They shall come home and sing songs of joy upon the hills of Zion and shall be radiant over the goodness of the Lord….their life will be like a watered garden and all their sorrows shall be gone.”
Praise you our Father!
(v13) “The young girls will dance for joy…I will turn their mourning into joy and I will comfort them and make them rejoice.”
Thank you Lord for leaving our sorrows behind us.
(v16) “But the Lord says: Don’t cry any longer, for I have heard your prayers and you will see them again; they will come back to you.” (v.17) “There is hope for your future.”
Our future is in God’s hands. Don’t cry.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Soul-ectomy
Last night I was privileged to attend the Baylor University Men’s Choir concert.
The music cut an incision to my soul.
Joy entered.
I ponder the last four lines of song and carry them with me.
“Go in peace.”
“Live in grace.”
“Trust in the arms that hold you.”
“Trust in the God that loves you.”
AMEN
The music cut an incision to my soul.
Joy entered.
I ponder the last four lines of song and carry them with me.
“Go in peace.”
“Live in grace.”
“Trust in the arms that hold you.”
“Trust in the God that loves you.”
AMEN
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Bean Gould: Pet Therapy Volunteer
Controversy surrounded her arrival into our family. The teen daughter’s friends had impulsively purchased this collie-shepherd-? mix from a roadside by the mall. So cute and sweet on her first visit to our house, I sensed even then we might have a future together.
Meanwhile, her infancy and toddler hood was mostly spent sleeping till noon, watching TV and chewing ice from a glass with her teen dad. To combat boredom she chose to systematically consume his bedroom carpet until his dad uttered the dreaded “going to the farm” threat. Of course we potential rescuers enter stage left at this point with the request that we try her out for the weekend. (We already had an aging sheltie and fostered a sibling’s corgi.)
By this time Bean (who at that point carried the nonfeminine name of a brewery) was a bland brown basic “plain Jane” dog whose primary trait was “mouthiness”. Her right ear never fully cartilaged leaving it permanently bent. She had not yet developed her wise black mask, beautifully mascaraed eyes or long curl- up tail. We did not realize her absolute sweet sensitivity or willingness to please. She was definitely “the omega dog” begging to be last.
To summarize the arrival…..the dad expected the visitor who came for the weekend to leave Sunday night, the daughter evaluated in her head that the weekend had gone well so the dog could stay and the mom, having fallen in love with the dog colluded with the daughter against the dad. (for which she asked forgiveness since she seldom misbehaved that way, but by that time the dad was so bonded to the dog he easily granted absolution.)
Being an intelligent dog, Bean learned that at our house she would chew only our pink carpet pad, replacing the carpet corner on top of the damage so it would take a while to discover it. In her early adolescence she was spayed but on that night she sneaked into a guest’s purse and ate a good supply of the birth controls inside. We kept explaining to her that she would no longer need them but had to use an emetic instead after calling poison control at midnight.
One season while the daughter took photography class, Bean’s star photogenic talent shined as she posed patiently in a bikini, as a cowboy complete with rope, boots, hat, shirt, hay and feed, as a boy scout, and as a tea party guest sporting faux yellow pearls and a spaghetti strap teal blue top.
Those doe eyes brought tears to mine as she came running to be crated so she would not knock over our only live Christmas tree in years while I was gone except that she was behind the tree and knocked it over in her eager desire to obey. As she observed me dressing for work she went voluntarily into her crate waiting for me to shut the door on my way out.
Bean was sort of a canine “Everyman”. At about 70 pounds with her collie/shepherd look she was easy for people to identify with when she assumed her job as pet therapist.
Frequently she would bring to mind someone’s favorite dog, easier when she was not an exact breed.
I was a psychotherapist who worked with nursing home residents for a while. Often Miss Bean accompanied me and she had many fans. As I talked with residents she would seem to be napping beside me but would elicit gentle groans in sympathy with the sad tones or complaints of ill and aging residents.
Bean and I joined the training program at our local Medical Center hospital which had a pet therapy program in its rehab center and also visited patients to brighten their stay. Bean was not the typical retired show dog. pet therapist. She just loved people and was a natural. She made no complaints about dressing up in somewhat embarrassing costumes. She behaved well with dog peers and in the hospital kept her nose where it belonged. Before a work day she was bathed and had her teeth brushed. She sat anxiously alert in the car, knowing she was going to work. She was exhausted the whole next day as she gave it her all.
One day we were part of a mall event where photos could be taken with the dogs. Actually Bean was Santa but found it difficult that the reindeer was a yorkie! What was fun, however, was our trip into the mall. A sunny day, I was wearing sunglasses. Bean had her short working leash and I suddenly noticed people stepping out of our way in the department store aisles while we traveled. It finally dawned on me that they thought I was blind and she was my seeing eye dog.
In the rehab setting Bean was a star retriever. She had a great sense of fairness. Returning with the tennis ball the patient had thrown she alternately returned it to the patient, the therapist and me. She wanted everyone to have a chance to participate!
Generally Miss Bean liked to have space between you so she could look into your face. On one occasion a very impaired withdrawn man seemed to let her know he wanted to hug her. She violated her usual boundaries and hugged gently into his face, licking his glasses so hard they had to be wiped dry. Another time a young boy communicated he wanted more of her than the front two paws on the perfunctory towel laid down for infection control. For a brief second they both smiled as I saw all four of her paws packed into the same small area. She must have levitated gently into that position.
At one point Bean had sore paws if she worked too hard. The vet gave permission for her to take a doggie pain pill before going on duty so the patients would not feel so sorry for her that they would not work comfortably with her. I wondered if that was considered a “performance-enhancing drug”? Oh, Miss Bean also took “Beano” at times to prevent doggie farts while on duty.
Dental cleaning was required of pet therapy dogs. The daughter worked at a vet clinic and arranged the procedure when she (and I) could both be there. We did not want her waking up alone from anesthesia. The solution……….I sat with her in a large back cage allowing her to be with someone familiar while recovering. All I recall is the voice of a huge great dane in the next cage and a fellow vet staff feeding me powdered sugar cookies through the bars.
On several occasions Miss Bean became my pet therapist. After major surgery she curled
her big warm body against my incision site and slept with me for days. As our family lost members, human and animal, she was there for comfort. One rescue dog came to live with us and Molly was frightened to come out from under the bed. Bean coaxed her out and taught her how to be a dog, how to run outside and bark freely. She adopted, cats, dogs, humans.
During a wake while family was waiting for the matriarch grandpa to pass on we were in an adjoining room. We heard a strange howl uttered. She knew the moment of the passing and announced it to us.
I have learned to be appreciative of gifts granted in unexpected packages.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
If Only I Could be the Person My Cat Thinks I Am
“If only I could be the person my cat thinks I am” broadcasts brazenly on the back bumper of my aging understatedly gray Toyota. . .. pretty much summarizes years of my trying to be whoever I think those around need me to be. Not actually spineless enabling wimpiness, although during the 80’s I would have readily confessed to lethal codependency. Of course, a part of me would readily confess to anything given a confrontive or questioning stare.
I am from Minnesota. I can now say without shame that I am extremely adaptive, resourceful and flexible, a “ yoga pretzel” personality. Under my breath you can hear a semi-audible mantra mutter “surely there is a way….we just don’t know what it is yet.” Through the years what seemed a delusional, naïve or emotional perspective has created a valid string of events. The process was sometimes invisible, mostly crazy, but results often miracles beyond logic.
Right brained, intuitive, rambling, free associating my way through life, loving possibilities, cheated by cut and dried conclusions. I came from a “bottom line”, ‘just the facts ma’m” cultural mentality, pragmatic and mathematical, not magical and musical. I was a misfit, starting sentences in midstream, watching others look at me puzzled or critical. I might have a certifiable thought disorder but enjoyed it. My children and husband learned my language… so kind of them to do so. Others just treated me as dumb or blonde, or demented. One supervisor suggested I use lined paper, but when I offered to modify my style she begged me not to, saying that someone had to embody Erma Bombeck’s legacy.
Yes, I confused people, but added color, humor and surprise to life. I used to feel embarrassed, wrong, but later saw delight in dancing with the unexpected. A test? If people “get it” we travel intimately together into a rich land of playful, poignant possibility. If they don’t…I speak the language of “concrete” and temporarily put my soul on hold.
I am capable of precise communication, especially when others need it from me. I love the playfulness of words and the energy of discovering where you are going after you arrive. My world of origin was deductive; my self was inductive. It took years before I met anyone else like me….of course we could not have straightforwardly communicated that fact with each other…..so it would be expected to take a while. My brain just would not bend to the left.
My many animals, angels of comfort and comradeship, always passed the test; they knew who I was. These fur friends, from an 8 ounce black and white rat, to a l300 pound paint horse, were my playmates, cheerleaders, healers, mentors, guardians, comedians, nannies, psychotherapists, entertainers and travel guides. Their unique “animalities” (animal personalities) sniffed out what’s essential to life, teaching compassion, patience, perseverance, curiosity, commitment, sensitivity. Every morning, as in scripture, I awaken to new mercies as cuddling under my arm is mini-cat, “Mercy”……who definitely knows who I am but loves me anyway.
I am from Minnesota. I can now say without shame that I am extremely adaptive, resourceful and flexible, a “ yoga pretzel” personality. Under my breath you can hear a semi-audible mantra mutter “surely there is a way….we just don’t know what it is yet.” Through the years what seemed a delusional, naïve or emotional perspective has created a valid string of events. The process was sometimes invisible, mostly crazy, but results often miracles beyond logic.
Right brained, intuitive, rambling, free associating my way through life, loving possibilities, cheated by cut and dried conclusions. I came from a “bottom line”, ‘just the facts ma’m” cultural mentality, pragmatic and mathematical, not magical and musical. I was a misfit, starting sentences in midstream, watching others look at me puzzled or critical. I might have a certifiable thought disorder but enjoyed it. My children and husband learned my language… so kind of them to do so. Others just treated me as dumb or blonde, or demented. One supervisor suggested I use lined paper, but when I offered to modify my style she begged me not to, saying that someone had to embody Erma Bombeck’s legacy.
Yes, I confused people, but added color, humor and surprise to life. I used to feel embarrassed, wrong, but later saw delight in dancing with the unexpected. A test? If people “get it” we travel intimately together into a rich land of playful, poignant possibility. If they don’t…I speak the language of “concrete” and temporarily put my soul on hold.
I am capable of precise communication, especially when others need it from me. I love the playfulness of words and the energy of discovering where you are going after you arrive. My world of origin was deductive; my self was inductive. It took years before I met anyone else like me….of course we could not have straightforwardly communicated that fact with each other…..so it would be expected to take a while. My brain just would not bend to the left.
My many animals, angels of comfort and comradeship, always passed the test; they knew who I was. These fur friends, from an 8 ounce black and white rat, to a l300 pound paint horse, were my playmates, cheerleaders, healers, mentors, guardians, comedians, nannies, psychotherapists, entertainers and travel guides. Their unique “animalities” (animal personalities) sniffed out what’s essential to life, teaching compassion, patience, perseverance, curiosity, commitment, sensitivity. Every morning, as in scripture, I awaken to new mercies as cuddling under my arm is mini-cat, “Mercy”……who definitely knows who I am but loves me anyway.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
David
(I Samuel 16:16-23)
Life can imitate scripture. As I read the following I recalled the intense certainty I had about naming my first born child “David”.
“Let our lord now command your servants who are before you. Let them seek a man who is a skillful player of the harp…..so Saul said to his servants, “provide me now a man who can play well and bring him to me.”
Then one of the young men answered and said, “Behold I have seen a son of Jesse the Bethlehemite who is a skilled musician, a mighty man of valor, a warrior, one prudent in speech, and a handsome man; and the Lord is with him.”
Then David came to Saul and attended him, and Saul loved him greatly; and he became his armor bearer. And Saul sent to Jesse saying, “Let David now stand before me; for he has found favor in my sight.” So it came about whenever the evil spirit came to Saul, David would take the harp and play it with his hand; and Saul would be refreshed and be well, and the evil spirit would depart from him.”
My David strokes the bass as his harp; his music refreshes the soul. He is a warrior, a well- spoken handsome man of valor. Most importantly, the Lord is with him. His mother is well blessed by God.
Life can imitate scripture. As I read the following I recalled the intense certainty I had about naming my first born child “David”.
“Let our lord now command your servants who are before you. Let them seek a man who is a skillful player of the harp…..so Saul said to his servants, “provide me now a man who can play well and bring him to me.”
Then one of the young men answered and said, “Behold I have seen a son of Jesse the Bethlehemite who is a skilled musician, a mighty man of valor, a warrior, one prudent in speech, and a handsome man; and the Lord is with him.”
Then David came to Saul and attended him, and Saul loved him greatly; and he became his armor bearer. And Saul sent to Jesse saying, “Let David now stand before me; for he has found favor in my sight.” So it came about whenever the evil spirit came to Saul, David would take the harp and play it with his hand; and Saul would be refreshed and be well, and the evil spirit would depart from him.”
My David strokes the bass as his harp; his music refreshes the soul. He is a warrior, a well- spoken handsome man of valor. Most importantly, the Lord is with him. His mother is well blessed by God.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Mr and Mrs Cat
Mr. N. & Mrs. O. Cat are celebrating their 10th anniversary together. They qualify as Siamese, joined everywhere by choice. He gave up the outdoors life for her. I don’t think she gave up anything for him. 20 hours a day they cuddle. On random occasions they will awaken in each other’s arms, appear startled & begin fighting as if wondering how on earth they spent the night with “you”? Then they realize and make up. He embraces her lovingly with his 6 toe boxing glove paws around her neck.
Time
Time flows, interrupted by death.
Easter can transform it into Time Eternal.
On earth we plan, do, “so that”, “until”, “next.”
Let us begin to blur the boundary; blend it into eternity.
It is not condemnation but commendation, moving us from limited to limitless when we place our trust in Jesus.
Death continually sits on our shoulder, teasing, confusing us. What to do? We are used to marking time by an earthly calendar. Heaventime is seamless. December, a perpetual January.
Yeah though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death….like it’s a choice?
We all will. We pretend we won’t.
Master our resistance to death? Jesus died to walk us through the valley. We die so we can really walk with Him. A mutual portal we should welcome and not dread …but even He dreaded it, falling to the ground in agony. He was attached to His earthly life, friends and family. Like us, He was on assignment here.
So simple? Remove resistance and there are no obstacles? Jesus, become more present to us in this life so we can envision our heavenly lives. Please overshadow our fear and sorrow with joyful anticipation.
Easter can transform it into Time Eternal.
On earth we plan, do, “so that”, “until”, “next.”
Let us begin to blur the boundary; blend it into eternity.
It is not condemnation but commendation, moving us from limited to limitless when we place our trust in Jesus.
Death continually sits on our shoulder, teasing, confusing us. What to do? We are used to marking time by an earthly calendar. Heaventime is seamless. December, a perpetual January.
Yeah though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death….like it’s a choice?
We all will. We pretend we won’t.
Master our resistance to death? Jesus died to walk us through the valley. We die so we can really walk with Him. A mutual portal we should welcome and not dread …but even He dreaded it, falling to the ground in agony. He was attached to His earthly life, friends and family. Like us, He was on assignment here.
So simple? Remove resistance and there are no obstacles? Jesus, become more present to us in this life so we can envision our heavenly lives. Please overshadow our fear and sorrow with joyful anticipation.
Lenten E-Mail Prayer
Dear God,
I send you this e-mail, eternity mail
Trying to connect with you,
The form familiar to me.
I am hungry to know You.
I am frightened to know You.
I am frightened not to know You.
I am constricted, isolating.
I am jealous of expansiveness, excitement.
I am fearful of safe numbness, controlled routine.
I want the life of the disciples.
I want to walk with You.
I want to do what You want me to do.
I want to glorify you and enjoy you forever.
I confess:
Staying in the safe
Avoiding intimacy
Thwarting the Spirit.
You did not create your children to be numb,
To settle, just get along, make it through the day.
You created your children to share with them your love.
You have plans for good that include them.
You want to give them joy.
Thank you for pricking my heart to seek You.
Thank you for gracefully preventing my settling for the superficial.
I love You.
I give you my failures, my stubbornness.
I celebrate your many salvations. Please let me live constantly with You.Help me hover above the earth and see clearly.
I send you this e-mail, eternity mail
Trying to connect with you,
The form familiar to me.
I am hungry to know You.
I am frightened to know You.
I am frightened not to know You.
I am constricted, isolating.
I am jealous of expansiveness, excitement.
I am fearful of safe numbness, controlled routine.
I want the life of the disciples.
I want to walk with You.
I want to do what You want me to do.
I want to glorify you and enjoy you forever.
I confess:
Staying in the safe
Avoiding intimacy
Thwarting the Spirit.
You did not create your children to be numb,
To settle, just get along, make it through the day.
You created your children to share with them your love.
You have plans for good that include them.
You want to give them joy.
Thank you for pricking my heart to seek You.
Thank you for gracefully preventing my settling for the superficial.
I love You.
I give you my failures, my stubbornness.
I celebrate your many salvations. Please let me live constantly with You.Help me hover above the earth and see clearly.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
STRESS MANAGEMENT
Psalm 31 Style (the Living Bible)
“Lord, I trust in you alone”
(1)…who else is there really? …my boots have no straps. How could I pull myself up?
“Answer quickly when I cry to you; bend low and hear my whispered plea.”
(2) I can only manage a whisper from this downtrodden dark place and I don’t have long. I am desperate. Hurry.
“You are my Rock; honor your name by leading me out of this peril”
(3) “You alone are strong enough”
(4) “Into your had I commit my spirit.”
(5) Lord, I see here the story of Gethsemane when your beloved Son pleaded for the cup to be removed.
“You have rescued me, O God who keeps his promises…I am radiant with joy because of your mercy, for you have listened to my troubles and have seen the crisis in my soul.”
(6,7) I trust in you alone and believe your promise to guide me out of trouble and hold me through the crises.
Gethsemane is the road to eternal life.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
LENTEN DIALOGUE WITH LIFE AND DEATH
Psalm 23 (The Living Bible)
(1) “Because the Lord is my shepherd I have everything I need.” Even when I may think I need more.
(2) “He lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside the quiet streams.” When I feel stressed He calls me to find rest. I become the baby lamb I have seen resting in the crook of His arm.
(3) “He restores my failing health.” I trust Him as my great physician.
(4) “He helps me to do what honors Him the most.” Especially when I want to do what honors me the most.
(5) “Even when walking through the dark valley of death I will not be afraid for you are close beside me guarding, guiding all the way.” You never leave us or forsake us. You are with us in the most alone experiences of birth and death.
(6) “You provide delicious food for me…you have welcomed me as your guest; blessings overflow.” I accept your gracious hospitality and praise the overflowing of good things.
(7) “Your goodness and unfailing kindness shall be with me all of my life and afterward I will live with you forever in your house.” What more could I need forever?
(1) “Because the Lord is my shepherd I have everything I need.” Even when I may think I need more.
(2) “He lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside the quiet streams.” When I feel stressed He calls me to find rest. I become the baby lamb I have seen resting in the crook of His arm.
(3) “He restores my failing health.” I trust Him as my great physician.
(4) “He helps me to do what honors Him the most.” Especially when I want to do what honors me the most.
(5) “Even when walking through the dark valley of death I will not be afraid for you are close beside me guarding, guiding all the way.” You never leave us or forsake us. You are with us in the most alone experiences of birth and death.
(6) “You provide delicious food for me…you have welcomed me as your guest; blessings overflow.” I accept your gracious hospitality and praise the overflowing of good things.
(7) “Your goodness and unfailing kindness shall be with me all of my life and afterward I will live with you forever in your house.” What more could I need forever?
Friday, March 6, 2009
Be a Follower (by Susan)
Being a follower is usually something to detest, totally uncool and harmful to your health. In an ironic twist on the meaning of the word and in the case of Sharon's blog - Everyday Essays by Sharon - being a follower of Sharon Gould and her writings is one of the best things you could hope to be!
As you can see, we've just added the Followers widget to her sidebar, and so far she has a rather sad total of two followers.
It's easy to become a Follower of this blog. Just locate the Followers widget at the top of the sidebar, and click on the "Follow this blog" link. You'll get a popup window which will give you the option of following publicly or anonymously.
Ready... Set... Follow!
As you can see, we've just added the Followers widget to her sidebar, and so far she has a rather sad total of two followers.
It's easy to become a Follower of this blog. Just locate the Followers widget at the top of the sidebar, and click on the "Follow this blog" link. You'll get a popup window which will give you the option of following publicly or anonymously.
Ready... Set... Follow!
Conversation with Psalm 5
“Hear me praying” Now Lord, how could you hear me if I don’t do it?
“I will pray only to you”. I cannot pray to the gods of the world.
“Each morning I will look to you in heaven.” I won’t look down at myself or at the circumstances.
“I will lay my requests before you.” I am picturing long rows of them.
“I will pray earnestly.” I will beg with my whole heart, down on my knees.
“I will come into the temple protected by your mercy and love.” I am unworthy to enter without your mercy and love.
“I will worship you with deepest awe.” Lord, you are awesome.
“Lead me as you promised.” I am willing to follow.
“Tell me what to do and which way to turn.” How else will I know where to go?
“Make everyone rejoice that trusts in you.” What else would we want to do?
“Keep them shouting for joy.” Amen.
“Fill them with your happiness.” It is the only true kind.
“Protect them with your shield of love.” Thank you for your love to us.
“I will pray only to you”. I cannot pray to the gods of the world.
“Each morning I will look to you in heaven.” I won’t look down at myself or at the circumstances.
“I will lay my requests before you.” I am picturing long rows of them.
“I will pray earnestly.” I will beg with my whole heart, down on my knees.
“I will come into the temple protected by your mercy and love.” I am unworthy to enter without your mercy and love.
“I will worship you with deepest awe.” Lord, you are awesome.
“Lead me as you promised.” I am willing to follow.
“Tell me what to do and which way to turn.” How else will I know where to go?
“Make everyone rejoice that trusts in you.” What else would we want to do?
“Keep them shouting for joy.” Amen.
“Fill them with your happiness.” It is the only true kind.
“Protect them with your shield of love.” Thank you for your love to us.
Monday, March 2, 2009
The Inheritance
It sprang up suddenly, covering half the three-month-old’s face
transplanted from loving glances of his mother’s bonding.
She has carried it for over thirty years,
Its sunshine evaporating occasional outbursts of tears
The grandma has worn it over six decades
drawing strength from God when He widens it after her frowns.
It was born out of the great grandmother’s sorrows and struggles.
God installed it for survival joy.
He sustained it through these four generations to share with us and others His loving spirit.
This is why He created the smile.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Lenten Spring Cleaning
I have acclimated to lukewarmness.
I have adjusted to smothering layers of dust.
I have accustomized myself to visual astigmatism.
My self absorption squeezes out space for your Spirit.
I am dull, dingy, drab, distracted.
Senseless broken clutter blocks my heart access to you.
I am overrun by earthly trash.
Confession is the clearing
Create in me a clean heart.
I have adjusted to smothering layers of dust.
I have accustomized myself to visual astigmatism.
My self absorption squeezes out space for your Spirit.
I am dull, dingy, drab, distracted.
Senseless broken clutter blocks my heart access to you.
I am overrun by earthly trash.
Confession is the clearing
Create in me a clean heart.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Ash Wednesday
Dear Lord,
Ashes across my forehead; don’t wash them off!
Forge them into my brain; tattoo them onto my skin.
After church
I wore the ashes to the supermarket, somewhat unconscious of their presence.
As I smiled and said “You first” to an exhausted mother balancing baby and groceries,
I was suddenly conscious of my ashes. The condemning thought was the radical hurt to Christ if I had barged selfishly ahead, ignoring her need, while wearing the ashes.
But Lord, I am always wearing the ashes; sometimes more live and conscious than others.
Thank you for this defining dust.
Perhaps I should daily dust your invisible ashes onto my forehead as a reminder to show the world your cross of salvation and your light of love for everyone.
“After the suffering of His soul, He will see the light of life and be satisfied.” (Isaiah 53:11)
Humbly and gratefully,
Your child
Ashes across my forehead; don’t wash them off!
Forge them into my brain; tattoo them onto my skin.
After church
I wore the ashes to the supermarket, somewhat unconscious of their presence.
As I smiled and said “You first” to an exhausted mother balancing baby and groceries,
I was suddenly conscious of my ashes. The condemning thought was the radical hurt to Christ if I had barged selfishly ahead, ignoring her need, while wearing the ashes.
But Lord, I am always wearing the ashes; sometimes more live and conscious than others.
Thank you for this defining dust.
Perhaps I should daily dust your invisible ashes onto my forehead as a reminder to show the world your cross of salvation and your light of love for everyone.
“After the suffering of His soul, He will see the light of life and be satisfied.” (Isaiah 53:11)
Humbly and gratefully,
Your child
Monday, February 16, 2009
Reflection on Amazing Grace (Hand-full of Grace: Just enough and Just in Time)
While reflecting I realized that “by grace are ye saved” (Ephesians 2:8), but God continues to dispense daily grace, like the manna of old—just enough and just in time. Grace weaves our tapestry, designs the Artist’s mosaic and spins the wheel fashioning the potter’s clay.
We are hand-woven. We are covered by grace. We are cloaked in its loving protection like Joseph in his coat of many colors. You may ask why just a hand-full of grace. Grace is, of course, measureless and uncontainable. Just as my grandmother lovingly measured out her ingredients by the handful, so do we receive God’s grace dispensed from his hand.
Isaiah 49:16 reminds us that he has inscribed us on the back of his hands. According to Psalm 37:24 although we stumble we shall never fall “for the Lord upholds him with his hand.” If we come with open hands as a child with his mother, God will hold the one while filling the other with his grace. Psalm 139:5, 6 describes that “you hem me in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.”
We are hand-woven. We are covered by grace. We are cloaked in its loving protection like Joseph in his coat of many colors. You may ask why just a hand-full of grace. Grace is, of course, measureless and uncontainable. Just as my grandmother lovingly measured out her ingredients by the handful, so do we receive God’s grace dispensed from his hand.
Isaiah 49:16 reminds us that he has inscribed us on the back of his hands. According to Psalm 37:24 although we stumble we shall never fall “for the Lord upholds him with his hand.” If we come with open hands as a child with his mother, God will hold the one while filling the other with his grace. Psalm 139:5, 6 describes that “you hem me in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.”
Monday, February 9, 2009
Eternity's Anteroom
Waiting together in eternity’s anteroom
Practicing praise hymns, glorifying God.
Shedding mortal pain, emancipating selfish ego.
Talking with loved ones, longing for Jesus.
Vision grows far-sighted with age.
We can see the world through your eyes.
Your eternal view filters our lenses.
We see our blindness of your beauty.
We sing “How great thou art”!
“When we’ve been there ten thousand years we will have only just begun”.
Our Father Who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name!
Angels accompany us to our appointment.
You hand us joy as we journey to meet you.
All our lives we anticipate the appointed time!
Lord, we invite all of your children to wait with us.
There are endless benches.
You sent invitation to Heaven.
You sent us your Son.
Father, we beg to work while waiting in the anteroom.
We yearn to invite all your children to this eternal celebration.
We wait, ready to do your will.
Practicing praise hymns, glorifying God.
Shedding mortal pain, emancipating selfish ego.
Talking with loved ones, longing for Jesus.
Vision grows far-sighted with age.
We can see the world through your eyes.
Your eternal view filters our lenses.
We see our blindness of your beauty.
We sing “How great thou art”!
“When we’ve been there ten thousand years we will have only just begun”.
Our Father Who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name!
Angels accompany us to our appointment.
You hand us joy as we journey to meet you.
All our lives we anticipate the appointed time!
Lord, we invite all of your children to wait with us.
There are endless benches.
You sent invitation to Heaven.
You sent us your Son.
Father, we beg to work while waiting in the anteroom.
We yearn to invite all your children to this eternal celebration.
We wait, ready to do your will.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
How well God must like you
Psychology from Psalms One
But, God, how could you like me? I avoid you, fail you, hide from you resist you. I often have such trouble liking myself. As I see myself through your eyes you give me permission to like myself. You like me because I don’t purposely hang out with sin and seek counsel from the wicked; I don’t stand in with sinners; I am not smart-mouthed. Instead, I thrill to God’s Word and “chew on Scripture day and night.
Sometimes I am amazed at you, how you cope with your children who are “know it alls” at times. In your eyes we are stuck in power struggles of sophomoric adolescence. We insist that our way is better.
You love us because you see the finished product in Christ and look beyond our attitude problems. Lord, help us also to look beyond the attitude problems of others. Help us to remember Jude l:24-25 : “To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.” What a miracle to anticipate, being presented to God without fault and in great joy!
"Yahweh charts the road you take”. Therefore, my God, please adjust my GPS accordingly. Then I will be like a tree replanted in Eden, bearing fresh fruit every month…always in blossom. (Psalms 1:3,6)
But, God, how could you like me? I avoid you, fail you, hide from you resist you. I often have such trouble liking myself. As I see myself through your eyes you give me permission to like myself. You like me because I don’t purposely hang out with sin and seek counsel from the wicked; I don’t stand in with sinners; I am not smart-mouthed. Instead, I thrill to God’s Word and “chew on Scripture day and night.
Sometimes I am amazed at you, how you cope with your children who are “know it alls” at times. In your eyes we are stuck in power struggles of sophomoric adolescence. We insist that our way is better.
You love us because you see the finished product in Christ and look beyond our attitude problems. Lord, help us also to look beyond the attitude problems of others. Help us to remember Jude l:24-25 : “To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.” What a miracle to anticipate, being presented to God without fault and in great joy!
"Yahweh charts the road you take”. Therefore, my God, please adjust my GPS accordingly. Then I will be like a tree replanted in Eden, bearing fresh fruit every month…always in blossom. (Psalms 1:3,6)
Monday, February 2, 2009
Packing for the Trip
Beside an empty suitcase
And undated ticket
I begin the “to do” list,
Packing for the trip.
I ponder, reflect,
Prepare for Heaven,
My journey home
I’ll stay there forever.
What do I need?
How much time do I have?
I pack God’s promises
To shepherd and comfort me.
I pack trust
In His peace
To calm any fear.
Remembering, I gently stuff my
Dog-eared Bible in one corner,
Wishing I had studied it more,
Was better prepared,
Used too many Cliff notes along the way.
I pack beloved pictures
Of the smiling faces
Sure to greet me
As I cross the river.
I tenderly tuck in
Photos of loved ones,
Covered with my pride and passion.
Tiny tears of separation
Stain this stack of pictures.
I pack faith in God’s promise that our children and theirs
Will follow God on the same path, enlightened by joy.
I pack the hope that many “much prayed for” souls
Will join our joyous throng.
I take light for the darkness,
Joy for the morning,
Confession for disobedience.
I am marching to hymns of praise as I walk home to meet my God.
And undated ticket
I begin the “to do” list,
Packing for the trip.
I ponder, reflect,
Prepare for Heaven,
My journey home
I’ll stay there forever.
What do I need?
How much time do I have?
I pack God’s promises
To shepherd and comfort me.
I pack trust
In His peace
To calm any fear.
Remembering, I gently stuff my
Dog-eared Bible in one corner,
Wishing I had studied it more,
Was better prepared,
Used too many Cliff notes along the way.
I pack beloved pictures
Of the smiling faces
Sure to greet me
As I cross the river.
I tenderly tuck in
Photos of loved ones,
Covered with my pride and passion.
Tiny tears of separation
Stain this stack of pictures.
I pack faith in God’s promise that our children and theirs
Will follow God on the same path, enlightened by joy.
I pack the hope that many “much prayed for” souls
Will join our joyous throng.
I take light for the darkness,
Joy for the morning,
Confession for disobedience.
I am marching to hymns of praise as I walk home to meet my God.
Friday, January 30, 2009
BODY IMAGE DILEMMAS
I am very troubled by the fact that just last year I purchased 3 items at the “Dress Barn” which by inference could make me a cow. I was reared to believe that measurements define a woman’s beauty. My mother, who maintained a perfect figure into her 80’s, was known to cut people out of family photos if, in her opinion, they looked fat. This was how I learned the magic of “invisibility”, disappearing from my body, living in my spirit and mind for the most part. How could I go out in public looking like that? ( no make up, house clothes…) asked my husband; it was easy. When I chose not to appear for myself, how could others see me? My rescued dog, Molly, knew the art of defensive disappearance. When presented with a threat she threw her head in the opposite direction, out of sight, out of threat. Where my body, soul and mind met is definitely canine and like a dog I also wanted to please.
I will purchase groceries along with gas at “Skinny’s” but would drop dead before dining at “Blimpie’s. As a matter of fact, last year I realized the craziness of obsessive skinny culture when I learned that my sister was given diet pills at age 12 (in 1949) to reduce what was probably normal prepubescence. When I was 12, I shared many of the same clothes with my mother; interestingly, I was fat and she was not . Apparently my mother’s generation could be very judgmental about size.
My “body self” barometer was defective. Through the years I agonizingly scanned photos to measure my obesity level. How could a size 9 be gigantic? At the time I always judged myself as ugly, but looking back in time, those same pictures were surprisingly acceptable, almost pretty. This crazy system creates perpetual self disapproval.
My response to the game was giving up. I was a dog, not a cat….and most certainly not a dancer. Actually, dancing had been discouraged in my family. The best way to feel good about myself was to avoid mirrors and to dress in camouflage.
Pregnancy was a relief, a socially acceptable” body hiding.” Infant holding adorned my defective body with a jewel, holding forth beauty to the world. Sad, for me, was the day my babies wanted to walk, proud and empowered in their own bodies.
To find myself I looked in, not out. Integrating my body, mind and spirit is a recent evolution. I notice that as the body gradually abandons you, spirit and mind rise to the forefront. The grand equalizer of aging now bonds me with many previously “perfect body people”. I have seniority in the imperfect body category.
My dogs, my friends are beautiful in spirit. Bodies are a kind of costume; they can be an art form, but they definitely are vehicle for spirit.
I will purchase groceries along with gas at “Skinny’s” but would drop dead before dining at “Blimpie’s. As a matter of fact, last year I realized the craziness of obsessive skinny culture when I learned that my sister was given diet pills at age 12 (in 1949) to reduce what was probably normal prepubescence. When I was 12, I shared many of the same clothes with my mother; interestingly, I was fat and she was not . Apparently my mother’s generation could be very judgmental about size.
My “body self” barometer was defective. Through the years I agonizingly scanned photos to measure my obesity level. How could a size 9 be gigantic? At the time I always judged myself as ugly, but looking back in time, those same pictures were surprisingly acceptable, almost pretty. This crazy system creates perpetual self disapproval.
My response to the game was giving up. I was a dog, not a cat….and most certainly not a dancer. Actually, dancing had been discouraged in my family. The best way to feel good about myself was to avoid mirrors and to dress in camouflage.
Pregnancy was a relief, a socially acceptable” body hiding.” Infant holding adorned my defective body with a jewel, holding forth beauty to the world. Sad, for me, was the day my babies wanted to walk, proud and empowered in their own bodies.
To find myself I looked in, not out. Integrating my body, mind and spirit is a recent evolution. I notice that as the body gradually abandons you, spirit and mind rise to the forefront. The grand equalizer of aging now bonds me with many previously “perfect body people”. I have seniority in the imperfect body category.
My dogs, my friends are beautiful in spirit. Bodies are a kind of costume; they can be an art form, but they definitely are vehicle for spirit.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
What is Man's chief end?
"Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever."—Westminster Shorter Catechism, Q. 1.
Mini-Moments of Faith: Instructions for Life
Reflections on Proverbs
(Written by Solomon, son of David around 1000 BC)
Proverbs 1:1-7 NIV
“The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, King of Israel: for attaining wisdom and discipline, for understanding words of insight, for acquiring a disciplined and prudent life, doing what is right and just and fair, for giving prudence to the simple, knowledge and discretion to the young—let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance—for understanding proverbs and parables, the sayings and riddles of the wise. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline.”
WISDOM
Obviously God wants us to use our heads! Wisdom is applied knowledge, to be used in our everyday life. The first step is the fear of the Lord, standing in an attitude of awe, humility, openness to new information. In our culture we associate “fear” with dread and terror, negative feelings to be avoided. God defines “fear” as holy and pious (devoted), positive feelings to be welcomed.
INTENTIONALITY
Secondly, wisdom acquisition and behavioral change assume the discipline of intentional exposure to knowledge. A blank computer screen may be a good start but is a miserable finish. Lack of input makes downloading an impossibility. This is why Solomon wrote Proverbs, to supply the content! But just buying a book on nutrition cannot sustain our physical body. We actually have to ingest the food. We would question the sincerity of a self-proclaimed “football fan” who never watched a game. The same is true of someone who claims to love God but never studies His Word or associates with His people.
We live in a “fast” disposable society. We want learning user- friendly, easily digestible. We want “magic” relationships”, ignoring the necessity of relationship-tending. We also assume an automatic relationship with God. Proverbs teaches us that knowing God and practicing His wisdom in all things require intentional and interactive discipline.
DISCIPLINE
The format of DISCIPLINE is the language for wisdom, discernment and prudence .
We have been raised on Cliff notes, Reader’s Digest and passive audio/video interaction. God recommends that we actually ingest and savor each of His wise words. Initially discipline may seem boring, unfamiliar, slow, but God promises rewards of understanding, right behavior, guidance and discernment…and, these are the Manufacturer’s instructions.
(Written by Solomon, son of David around 1000 BC)
Proverbs 1:1-7 NIV
“The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, King of Israel: for attaining wisdom and discipline, for understanding words of insight, for acquiring a disciplined and prudent life, doing what is right and just and fair, for giving prudence to the simple, knowledge and discretion to the young—let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance—for understanding proverbs and parables, the sayings and riddles of the wise. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline.”
WISDOM
Obviously God wants us to use our heads! Wisdom is applied knowledge, to be used in our everyday life. The first step is the fear of the Lord, standing in an attitude of awe, humility, openness to new information. In our culture we associate “fear” with dread and terror, negative feelings to be avoided. God defines “fear” as holy and pious (devoted), positive feelings to be welcomed.
INTENTIONALITY
Secondly, wisdom acquisition and behavioral change assume the discipline of intentional exposure to knowledge. A blank computer screen may be a good start but is a miserable finish. Lack of input makes downloading an impossibility. This is why Solomon wrote Proverbs, to supply the content! But just buying a book on nutrition cannot sustain our physical body. We actually have to ingest the food. We would question the sincerity of a self-proclaimed “football fan” who never watched a game. The same is true of someone who claims to love God but never studies His Word or associates with His people.
We live in a “fast” disposable society. We want learning user- friendly, easily digestible. We want “magic” relationships”, ignoring the necessity of relationship-tending. We also assume an automatic relationship with God. Proverbs teaches us that knowing God and practicing His wisdom in all things require intentional and interactive discipline.
DISCIPLINE
The format of DISCIPLINE is the language for wisdom, discernment and prudence .
We have been raised on Cliff notes, Reader’s Digest and passive audio/video interaction. God recommends that we actually ingest and savor each of His wise words. Initially discipline may seem boring, unfamiliar, slow, but God promises rewards of understanding, right behavior, guidance and discernment…and, these are the Manufacturer’s instructions.
MISSING THE BLESSING
Dear Lord,
I didn’t understand.
I was always disappointed.
I imagined the blessing as
dramatic, bold, designed,
policied, procedured, daytimered, detailed,
calendared, sign-boarded, labeled, scheduled,
voice-mailed, e-mailed, megaphoned,
engineered, spreadsheet, high-tech, mapped, GPS’d,
advertised, store-windowed,
publicly acknowledged in product, print, on stage.
Towards the end of my life I saw that the blessing was found instead as……… ragged,
tattered, unwoven, disordered, cluttered
life threads in subtle colors,
Half-torn “post-its”, coffee-stained napkins,
Cluttered piles.
The children of God looked for Christ in the wrong form, in the wrong place.
I make the same mistake.
My web is woven like a nest, gathered
From scraps and twigs, creating a resting place of purpose… undertoned, understated,
recognizable only in remininesence.
Visible only when undistracted by busyness, planning, future goals.
The blessing is not found necessarily in the plan that happened…. It is instead buried beneath; the mistakes were allowed to create the best.
God was in charge all along.
Hard to let go,
Yes, we should still plan and still go, but look to the left, look the right, look into the face of Jesus in the sky.
It is blessed to catch the blessing at the time, but sometimes it can only be seen in the reflection of old age, illness, the face of a newborn, a snowflake.
LOOK, WAIT, DON’T ASSUME LIFE TO BE AS YOU SEE IT.
MAKE ROOM FOR GOD; MAKE ROOM FOR HIS MYSTERY.
He blesses us in the everyday, the bread, the fish, the wine at the wedding party.
Unassuming. Unpretentious, spontaneous.
Hands
Dear Father,
Help me open my hands and hold them upward.
You give me your grace by the hand full.
You hold me in the palm of your hand.
Your hand reaches down for mine and keeps me from falling.
Just as mothers and fathers hold on to the hands of their children,
Guiding them and keeping them from falling.
Let me feel your hand. Let me hold on to it.
Why do I try to let go? Forget to hold on? Want to walk alone?
You never forget; you inscribed our names on the back of your hand.
You hold us in the palm of your hand.
You never let go.
Help me open my hands and hold them upward.
You give me your grace by the hand full.
You hold me in the palm of your hand.
Your hand reaches down for mine and keeps me from falling.
Just as mothers and fathers hold on to the hands of their children,
Guiding them and keeping them from falling.
Let me feel your hand. Let me hold on to it.
Why do I try to let go? Forget to hold on? Want to walk alone?
You never forget; you inscribed our names on the back of your hand.
You hold us in the palm of your hand.
You never let go.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Grief Feels Like
Wraparound sadness
Enduring, amorphous wandering
Shifted paradigms
Tearless eyes that sting and burn
A huge fear lump stuck in your throat
Unstoppable hiccups…a sneeze that stalls…an unreachable itch
An undilating cervix
A permanent pimple planted on the middle of your face
Macular degeneration of your soul
Dementia of your mood
Total aphasia
Entering the Witness Protection Program
Losing your identity, dissolving all your connections
Acting in a “changing places” movie
Living someone else’s life
Wearing borrowed clothes; one size fits all but nothing really fits
Attacked by a computer virus
An extended electrical outage
“12:00” blinking permanently on the face of your VCR
A buzzing alarm clock just beyond reach
Broken routines, lost keys
Breakfast at midnight, sleep at noon
Misplacing the remote control
Locking yourself out, locking yourself in
Paging yourself to find where you are
Breaking up, static on the line, cellular not digital
Wearing someone else’s eyeglasses
An out of focus lens, a mistracking VCR
A 45 rpm record played at 78 speed
Someone lowering the volume, dimming the lights
Realizing “settled” is a myth
Possibilities flashing across your mind, dissolving in its spaces
A nagging sense of “never”
Wondering when this timeless intermission will end
Finishing what you thought was the appetizer and learning it was dessert
Living with “how it was” when it wasn’t how you wanted it
Acknowledging what can NEVER happen
Recognizing the unfixable, the unreturnable, the expired
Unplugged wires…last year’s Christmas lights, tangled and mangled
Dots that won’t connect
Permanent pauses…stalled suspensions
No escalator step rising up when you need it
No one to finish your sentences…
to remember the forgotten…
to ask “how was your day?”
Friday, January 23, 2009
I can’t serve you, Lord, I’m too short!
I puddled into meltdown listening to my 2-year old granddaughter on the phone. She was encouraged by her father to tell me a specific story. She whispered to him “I can’t, I don’t know how.” He continued encouraging her when she loudly exclaimed “I can’t. I’m too SHORT!” She seemed relieved when I sympathetically said, “Oh, you can’t because you’re too little” happy that someone understood.
This is my dilemma too. I feel too short to do God’s will, to speak of his glory and write about his grace. I feel too little. God led me to His promise to Jeremiah: “but the Lord said to me “Do not say, I am only a child. You must go to everyone I send you and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you.” declares the Lord. Then the Lord reached out his hand, touched my mouth and said to me, now I have put words in your mouth.” Jeremiah l: 7,9 ( NIV.)
Thank you God for putting words in my mouth and thoughts on my page. Thank you Father for coaching my conversations. May you oversee and encourage the growth of Willow Meadows children of all ages. May we go wherever you send us in Southwest Houston and say whatever you command us.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Trust
She was nearly 3 years old and almost 3 feet tall,
Nestling gently into her babysitter grandma.
With her doe-soft eyes and fragile blond locks
She looked up trustingly and said
“I know I’m okay with you because you know how to take care of me.”
Dear father,
With her doe-soft eyes and fragile blond locks
She looked up trustingly and said
“I know I’m okay with you because you know how to take care of me.”
Dear father,
help me to assume the same cuddling stance and heart of trust with you
who knows exactly how to take care of me.
Love, Your trusting child
who knows exactly how to take care of me.
Love, Your trusting child
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Golden Bowls
TO OUR FATHER WHO ART IN HEAVEN
Some folks say prayer is…just air
but down on my knees I want to know where.
Where do prayers go up there?
John says golden bowls full of incense hold
our prayers up there—that’s where.
We pray for healing of the ill, comfort for the bereaved,
hope for the downtrodden, safety for the soldiers,
peace for the world, forgiveness of sinners.
A burden sent heavenward lightens the weight on earth.
God said to pray “thy kingdom come”.
Will my prayer be the one needed to fill the bowl, hearken heaven to earth? Will my prayer fill the bowl to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, soothe the distressed, protect the soldier, sustain the lonely, woo the sinner and lead us into your will?
Some folks say prayer is…just air
but down on my knees I want to know where.
Where do prayers go up there?
John says golden bowls full of incense hold
our prayers up there—that’s where.
We pray for healing of the ill, comfort for the bereaved,
hope for the downtrodden, safety for the soldiers,
peace for the world, forgiveness of sinners.
A burden sent heavenward lightens the weight on earth.
God said to pray “thy kingdom come”.
Will my prayer be the one needed to fill the bowl, hearken heaven to earth? Will my prayer fill the bowl to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, soothe the distressed, protect the soldier, sustain the lonely, woo the sinner and lead us into your will?
Ryan Russell 1st Day
November 18, 2008
Dear Baby Ryan Russell Brock,
Welcome!
You come to us on the wings of an angel sent as a miracle of God’s Love. You belong to Him on loan to us.
We pray for God’s wisdom and loving patience toward you as we care for you. You will transform us in ways we cannot now imagine.
As your grandma I love your choice of parents and time of arrival.
Your mom and dad have been prepared for you by God’s long time training and faithfulness through difficult downs and joyous highs.
As you age please be loving and patient with your parents since you came into the world without operating instructions or warranty.
You are received by loving family, church community and your mother’s spiritual sisters.
May God continually annoint you to be in His will.
All my love,
Nana
My Grandmother’s Legacy
I can make it. Clara did. A woman ahead of her time, married at 17, mother of 7, of whom 4 died before age 21… a 3rd grade education. She knew to leave her dreamer, non farmer husband in the unforgiving Alberta prairie when her youngest was a year old. She settled her brood in Mayville, North Dakota, creating a boarding house and cleaning at day jobs to make ends meet. Things certainly must have been bad in Canada.
She moved the family to Minneapolis, working as a cook in a special school for the handicapped where the children stole her soul. She rented space for An ice cream shop on the main floor where the family could live upstairs. She bought and sold 4 houses in her lifetime. She took in family members to stay with her in her duplex. She mothered me while my mom was coping with depression. She loved babies. Clara never had a dime to her name but always had a dollar if you needed it.
One winter I was sick all season and she bought me my first shiny green bike to encourage me to get well by spring.
Clara was and is my hope. She survived a heart attack at 75 and pancreatic cancer in her 80’s. She gave comfort and cookies, was both soft and tough. She is my heroine……and I have her blood in me!
Where I am From
I am from the cold, the orderly, the controlled- where people are good, punctual and honest—conversing about the weather and casseroles benignly flavored with ketchup as the hot sauce. My people are the safe ones; don’t take risks, put money aside. The biggest risk of growing up Minnesotan was to become bored to death.
I was polite, practical, to the point—no frills and little fun. I lived in a boxed up, pre-packaged constricted world and ran away to the South, defrosting in order to breathe, to avoid sterile suffocation of my soul. I emigrated to the spontaneous sunshined, leisurely south and never returned to hibernate as hostage to cold and constriction. I found my spirit and my soul survives and thrives at about 70 degrees farenheit.
I was polite, practical, to the point—no frills and little fun. I lived in a boxed up, pre-packaged constricted world and ran away to the South, defrosting in order to breathe, to avoid sterile suffocation of my soul. I emigrated to the spontaneous sunshined, leisurely south and never returned to hibernate as hostage to cold and constriction. I found my spirit and my soul survives and thrives at about 70 degrees farenheit.
An ideal Life with no limitations
I would resurrect Bill, immersing him in the life I have discovered since his death. We would live simply-around water, hills, trees with dogs and horses in close proximity to our children and grandchildren.
We would travel, sharing good tastes, great sounds, great beauty---growing together in our spiritual relationship with God and progressively share en- hanced love with each other.
I would read and write my heart out and be with good growing people, savoring the now and preparing for eternity. Yes, slow, savoring of life.
We would travel, sharing good tastes, great sounds, great beauty---growing together in our spiritual relationship with God and progressively share en- hanced love with each other.
I would read and write my heart out and be with good growing people, savoring the now and preparing for eternity. Yes, slow, savoring of life.
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