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| This says October! |
God has sort of prepared us for this big change for the past two weeks.
COLD winds.
Staccato rain against the windows for the past few days.
Dark clouds and very cool temperatures make me wonder if we will ever have that Indian Summer.
I have not given up hope.
Neither have many who decorate their yards in colorful Fall.
We begin the season that ends growth and signals foliage to step back a bit, loose that chlorophyll, and show off what's underneath: COLOR
The sky may be colorless faded gray but God's bounty is beginning to explode with color.
October 1, 2016
ACORNS
Each time I visit my friend in the skilled nursing facility I marvel at the great Oak out front.
Acorns fill the ground, without their little hats.
I spend several minutes looking for a couple that are still 'dressed' in their finery: the hat.
They are so cute yet they contain a marvel of God's creation:DNA
Packed into this amazing little nut, crushed or still whole on the ground, is LIFE.
The beanie held the nut on the tree but, almost immediately after it falls, it separates from the nut.
God knows well that the 'hat' was just needed until the nut was grown enough to fall, 'die' and be nestled into darkness for the winter.
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| I keep an Acorn in sight to remind me of God's cycle of life. |
Squirrels can only do so much.
Yet, if each tiny nut were planted in the earth we'd have a maze of oaks overwhelming us.
A tiny nut, destined to settle into the dark, damp, murky earth for the winter is made to wait for summer sun and plenty of moisture to free itself from it's tough casing.
God has measured every moment of this Acorn's life, death and resurrection into newness of life.
But it first must be buried, deep down in the dirt: earth to earth, dust to dust, just like us.
We must die before we live and turn into something new after spiritual death . . . resurrected life.
In Romans 1, we are told that NATURE teaches us all we need to know about God as creator, as creator of us humans.
We just need to stop, look, reflect and ask God for understanding.
The ACORN teaches us so much.
It's DNA is unlocked in due time to turn it into a mighty Oak if it receives enough watering and sun.
God shows us, though the Acorn, that our DNA grows us into mighty, cognitive followers of God (if we receive His Lordship by faith through His grace).
Only the SON of God can show us the full potential we have with our own DNA.
It's so easy to see the power of God in the Acorn and so difficult to see the power of God working through me sometimes.
I simply must trust, like an acorn, that God's ultimate purpose for me is just where I am today.
10-2:: WORDS FROM GOD
I was asked to 'supply' for a friend at a darling little church about an hour from our home.
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| Christ is sowing seeds. This tiny church has beautiful windows that share God's stories. |
Each church has little foibles, habits, that are unique to that church.
A visitor, when sitting in a pew, can pretty much step back from or join in the various parts of the worship service.
BUT, when I am called to lead, I must have 'radar' to grasp the tiny changes, the little 'extras' or the variances in the service.
It's sort of like reading between the lines because all the churches in this denomination have a service that is pretty much the same.
That said, a few times I was going 'left' when I should have gone 'right.'
The acolyte who sits with me tried her best but forgot to nudge me during the twists and turns, the pauses or non-pauses.
We managed quite well and those dear soles attending the service did not notice any blips.
Perhaps it was because the words from God, imbedded deep in my heart and voiced without notes, seemed to penetrate these dear souls who were waiting, watching, listening attentively and grasping God's Word.
To this day I don't know how it happens.
God speaks, we listen.
God speaks from my heart, other hearts and souls absorb, reflect and digest whatever falls upon them.
God's Word never returns void.
When God speaks, even through a frail mortal soul such as mine, God does the work.
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| God wants us to enjoy beauty in all forms. A beautiful story is seen above the altar. |
YES! said my heart.
They heard God, they received God's message, they reflected on whatever words penetrated their soul.
And, to my surprise, they let me know.
Very rarely do the recipients of God's Word through a mere mortal let that mortal know they received and digested God's Word.
This is a great church, filled with souls eager to know and grow and reach out to others.
A delight . . . all because God spoke to all of us through His Word.
10-3:: HOME
My friend moved into a 55+ community a year ago.
Time, schedules, the whirl of life kept me from visiting her in her new home.
Finally, the painters were done, all was in perfect order and company could now visit.
What a delight.
Of course, my friend is the greatest delight.
She is always 'up' and cheery and filled with conversation.
There is something about these new homes: simple design, open, top-of-the-line everything.
I marvel at the time I moved into my first home - with a dishwasher!
Nothing was new and no one even thought to get new appliances.
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| Home is where the heart is. This small space is the heart of our home. Crepe paper leads hubby to many treasures. |
Whats with stainless steel? . . . appliances were not made of that material at that time.
Now we have to wipe down the fridge every few hours as 'stainless' shows ever stain possible.
That said, new homes are pretty nice these days.
And, if we think about it, this 'new' home will, in time, seem old and faded.
My friend and husband plan to remain there until they are too old to be there - that will be a good 15 years, hopefully.
I don't know where hubby and I will be in fifteen years but, for now, we also enjoy this 'new' look in our home . . . even though I'm cleaning the stainless steel daily.
The most important part of a home is the HEART.
Our hearts have connected with this home and, hopefully, we can stay here another twenty years?
Home: it's wherever the heart wants to rest . . . and that's a good thing.
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| We begin at the beginning, surround by food, hubby's delight. |
Happy Biiiiiiirth - daaaaaay tooooooo youuuuuuu!
Of course I had to sneak out of bed at 0-dark-hundred to do what hubby and I always do for birthdays.
Crepe paper!
We don't spend money on each other, per se, but spend our creativity on each other.
Each birthday it includes crepe paper.
Hubby decorated the house with grand loops beginning at the stair case for my big day.
I decided to do something different for him- use crepe paper for a treasure hunt.
So, I began at the beginning: a basket with a note in it and a little butterfly weight that tells hubby to follow the crepe paper all over the house and pick up little gifts on the way.
Of course, some were silly . . . like the first one . . . a sweet potato.
The second was a jar of beans that would be made into his favorite soup.
I figure if I start with food I have him . . . hook, line and sinker.
Although he is very thin, he loves to eat - all in the genes.
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| The crepe paper trail ends at his favorite spot: the piano We always end our birthday treasure-hunt with a special card to celebrate our birth-day. |
Along the way, I placed little notes and cards . . . keeping it simple but thought-filled.
Grand finale: A lovely card that we read together.
The rest of the day was filled with errands, chores, fixing a 'locked' phone [my cell phone] and, his delight, the farm show.
That's another story but this was the only day we found in the week to walk the few blocks to join the FFA (Future Farmers of America) and learn about the cows, goats and pigs.
Our favorite exhibit, among many, is the baby animal exhibit.
It was packed with toddlers who touched and held and marveled at animals their size.
What a wonderful birthday we celebrated.
As we grow old, we are encouraged by the little ones just beginning their life discoveries.
Happy Birthday to Hubby!
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| The white tower of the seminary rises above the charred remains of the seminary chapel. My heart was devastated to learn of it's demise but I was not there, in the midst of the turmoil. Eleanor lived through years of explosive destruction of lives as well as property. |
After a non-stop day of chores and feeling a great sense of accomplishment, I feel ready to sit down and veg out.
Not so easy.
I have a meeting to attend . . . PEO . . . a lovely group of incredible women who have accomplished much and continue to stimulate each other even after 'retirement.'
No one ever retires, do they.
That's Eleanor, our speaker . . . proudly 85 years old . . . wearing a wildly gorgeous white, long jacket covered with HUGE poppies that POP . . . just like Eleanor's personality.
She burst with enthusiasm as she speaks for an hour, which was not enough for any of us.
She was requested to speak 20 minutes which was just here introduction!
If any were disturbed that she went longer, they were silent.
Her German parents lived in the U.S. and were on the verge of divorce when she was born.
At age 6 her mother went to visit her sisters in Germany and left Eleanor there . . . feeling that Eleanor's aunts could better raise her than her own mother.
Eleanor went from aunt to aunt as Hitler became more prominent and then became Chancellor of Germany.
The story of God's hand on her is amazing.
No one was allowed to enter a church [these people seemed to disappear and no one knew where.]
No one spoke of God because Hitler was god.
Her schooling was challenging and always focused on Hitler.
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| God, our Trinity, remains in the midst of charred rubble. God, our Trinity, carried Eleanor through the rubble of a violent time in her life. |
When the bombs hit on the far side of Dresden, why did they not hit her side?
When she and her aunts went to the cave for protection from another bomb raid for the umpteenth time, why was it not crowded?
How did Eleanor know to drag her aunt another few blocks to another cave . . . she just KNEW.
BTW, the caves were originally used to store beer as they were naturally cool.
During the war, they were used as shelters.
After this bombing raid was over, Eleanor and the towns people discovered that a bomb had hit the opening of the original cave they always went to.
This would have caused the people, usually packed standing like sardines, to collapse upon each other and smother each other so that most would have died.
Eleanor had many events like this that she did not understand because there were no pastors or church-going people left.
Only when she was sent back to the U.S. at the age of 13, by herself, was she able to enter a church and ask questions and worship. She learned about God's gift to us, Jesus Christ through John 3:16.
"God so loved Eleanor that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not parish but shall have eternal life."
Her statement throughout her story was, "A personal relationship with God, through His Son, Jesus Christ, is not just going to church, it's not 'religion' but a Personal Relationship."
Going to a church or worshipping with others means nothing if one does not have a personal relationship with God.
So true.
If God does not have OUR heart, it does not matter what we do or where we worship.
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| No more covering over a sacred building. Eleanor had the 'covering' of God who knew her life was sacred. |
God leads us and guides us and holds us in the palm of His hand.
IF we sense this, know this deep in our heart, live daily thanking God for guiding us and protecting us, and give our entire life-actions to God, we are on the right path to that personal relationship.
Eleanor has been given the gift of excitement, energy, LIFE.
This 85 year old truly ministered to all of us: "Forgive anything in your past, give God the glory, Go forth with excitement with your story of how God has worked His will in your life.
LIVE LIFE," Eleanor would say.
10-6:: LIFE
Life is so fragile and yet so strong.
It depends where we are with our own life journey.
My girlfriend called me yesterday to tell me her husband died.
He's had health issues for years but we were praying that we could get down to Florida, where they
God, in his blessed grace, took him in his sleep, ever so gently, ever so quietly.
Family had gathered to say their farewells.
Grand children were all present.
Phil knew his time was short and made sure his dearest friends got a call from him.
He lived a good life and will now live an even better life eternally with his Lord.
Eleanor's talk on life, Phil's gracious end of life and life ebbing from my father at this very moment makes me realize that we are all called to LIVE LIFE according to the journey set before us.
LIVE LIFE - LIVE . . . LIFE is short . . . or for my dad who is in his 102nd year, life is long.
LIFE IS.
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| Years ago we were given two prints: the heart of a man and the heart of a woman. I tried to draw a copy of the heart of a woman for Women of Worth Ministries. Our hearts are fragile yet so resilient. You can see LIFE in this heart. |
But, are we really living life?
When I do a load of laundry or paint a newly plastered wall or cut mounds of foliage that needs to be gone before next spring or make one more meal for hubby when I'm too tired to think, that's LIFE.
It's the ever-so-daily stuff like one more MD appointment or listening to another tell their story or praying with one another or running errands that is LIFE.
I have been blessed with an incredible life that I have carved out for myself over the decades.
Yet, God has blessed every good and bad road I have journeyed.
I have stories to tell and memories to keep me busy for the rest of my life.
Yet, today I make the choice to simply live . . . to drink in the plain and simple daily happenings that make up my life.
Hubby and I are blessed to enjoy an incredible LIFE.
We are alive and in pretty good health.
Phil died, dad is dying inch by inch, ever so slowly, my brother-in-law is at the very end of his life . . . all right where God has them . . . in the palm of His hand.
All I can do is celebrate my own journey, help others grieve in their journey, and let God lead me as long as I have LIFE.
10-7:: VIGIL
I've been praying for so many who are in 'waiting' mode.
One might call it 'Vigil' . . . a time of waiting.
My dear friend held vigil with her family for one week and then hubby slipped into the arms of Jesus during the night.
My sister is still holding vigil for her husband who has lingered in this world far longer than anyone
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| St. Francis stands 'vigil' as the presence of his image overlooks tiny specks of green in the spring that grow into clumps of life for all to see, smell, taste, touch and delight. |
Her sons have been with her as they all wait, watch, interact when hubby wakes and wait some more.
Her pastor drove several hours to the hospital to be with them and pray and give assurance that the Lord's hand is upon them all.
The husband of my friend, whom I visit weekly, is keeping a very long vigil.
She may live a few more years . . . bedridden . . . totally in need of help for every movement . . . or not.
He drives from home each day to sit with her most of each day.
His world has shrunk into her tiny space of a 10x15 foot room.
He returns every night to a very large, empty, home with a beautiful yard that he still maintains.
YET, as he cares their home, he waits, watches, calculates impending needs and expenses and focuses totally on daily needs for himself and his wife.
And then there is dad . . . dear, precious, wonderful dad . . . in his 102nd year of life.
His care has become more complex than his assisted living residence can sustain.
My brother is doing all the leg work and has been as 'present' as he can be while living in another state.
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| Sometimes waiting is like standing behind a beautiful curtain knowing that the Light of eternal life is on the other side |
Although we are not waiting for life to ebb from dad, we know he is losing more vitality daily.
He has changed.
He has little energy to do much of anything besides eat, sleep and smile.
He has a huge smile.
His movements are painfully slow . . . l i f e has s l o w e d d o w n greatly.
We watch, wait, wonder, feel helpless, pray he is being loved by all his caretakers and hope he feels fulfilled by each day.
Vigil . . . waiting.
Purpose of each day is defined by breathing in and breathing out.
It's like they linger between two worlds.
Each of these precious souls tug on my heart . . . daily.
I can only pray that they feel the Lord's hand on them . . . to help each through this liminal time with a sense of peace, with tranquility, knowing that each breath is giving life to their dying bodies.
Vigil . . . waiting . . . not easy.
10-9:: THANK YOU
That's all the men needed to say after being healed of leprosy . . . thank you.
How hard is that?
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| This lovely display will remain through "Thanksgiving" the one day each year that we gather to say thanks. Why not celebrate Thanks - Giving to God daily! |
None were able to enter any sort of community, town, village for fear their skin disease (labeled leprosy because no one knew what theses skin ailments really were).
Therefore, they could not enter the temple for worship . . . or be in any group that worshipped.
Yet, they knew of the power Jesus had to heal, give sight to the blind and even raise some from the dead.
They knew the stature of Jesus and called out when He passed by.
In not so many words they called for help, to be healed, to be given life . . . for they really had no life in their current circumstances.
Jesus came close, did not touch them but simply spoke . . . the Word of God gave words to these ten.
"Go, and show your priest and receive a blessing."
The ten were not instantly healed but were prompted to step out in faith . . . on step at a time . . . with full intention to ENTER THE TEMPLE and FACE THE PRIEST.
They would, by very definition, have to be healed to do so.
Proverbs 3:5-6 says it all. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart; lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make straight your paths."
Step out in faith and God will do the rest.
That's what Jesus was telling them.
By simply walking toward the place of blessings, the place of worship, the place of acceptance and embrace by the community, they would be healed.
In fact, they ALL WERE HEALED.
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| God heals. Sometimes God waits until we are eternally with Him to cure us but healing begins with filling the soul with deep yearning for God's presence in our lives . . . 24 ... 7 ... 365 |
Instead, he returned to the greatest priest of all, the rabbi who would die on the cross and shed his blood so that the Samaritan could have new life in Him . . . the king of kings, the lord of lords, our Lord and savior, Jesus Christ . . . Son of God, Emmanuel (God with us).
Just by returning to the source to say THANK YOU, the Samaritan gained eternal life and an intimate connection with God he'd never know before.
Each day when hubby and I have breakfast, and throughout the day, we say THANK YOU to the incredible gift of one more day of life.
THANK YOU, GOD.
10-10:: HARVEST
Whirrrrr, chug, grind, groan . . . the harvesting machinery begins at daybreak . . . about 7:30 am.
It's cold out . . . in the 40s . . . sharp winds whip through my body.
Farmer is in an open tractor with the correct attachments for harvesting feed corn that is shrivel-dried and read for consumption for his animals.
I wondered why I see acres of tan-brown still standing.
It's so logical.
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| Susan Branch offers free recipes now and then. I have almost all of her books filled with great recipes, delight-filled stories and lovely art like this 'corn' rendering for Indian Pudding . . . featuring CORN! |
Why not let the natural flow of nature take care of this process.
Sun, wind, cold . . . fewer intervals of rain . . .
The crop shrivels on the vine.
This fancy thresher not only grabs the ears of corn but later returns to 'clean up' the rest of the stalk to be minced up and used for other needs.
I love the sound and stop my chores for several minutes at a time as the combine whisks up the acres of tall gray-brown nutrients.
As crops die back, they are used to give life to animals as they feed on whatever is gleaned and combined with other healthy plants.
I do not like the cold and the wind.
I do not like knowing that this is the last hoorah for my roses.
I do not like sitting inside instead of on my porch.
But I love this change: rich colors, harvest smells, the touch of dried vegetation, the sound of tractors doing their job so early in the morning.
I love harvest time.
All too soon a blanket of snow will cover the empty fields and we will wait to begin this cycle of life all over again.
Harvest = a glorious wonder of life.
10-11:: Traveling
It's good to get out of the house once in awhile.
I mean, really get out . . . like overnight . . . perhaps a few nights.
I find that it is so easy to remain within my tightly scripted day and not move beyond.
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| My sister found this and I fell in love with it. Perhaps because it is a simple symbol of travel. |
We are actually going to travel, stay in a motel, drive the car wherever it takes us.
No early morning workout then breakfast then writing then reading then chores then meetings or commitments.
We are wiping the daily-do slate clean.
But that means packing.
Of course we can't simply wear the clothes on our back and pack a toothbrush.
After all, we are taking the car.
Why not cram every last item we can think of in the trunk, making sure the inside of the car is perfectly clean and empty so no one will know we are taking the entire house with us.
'Just in case," are hubby's favorite words.
"Why not," I say, "there is always room for one more thing," I laugh.
Of course I think it unwise to purchase water when we arrive . . . wherever that is . . . so I pack enough for a few days.
This is getting ridiculous.
But isn't that what we do every day?
We pack our worries, anxieties, fears, anger, jealousy into the trunk of our souls and carry this heavy burden with us wherever we go.
Wouldn't it be nice to pack the lighter things: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self control? (Galatians 5:22)
How free we would be to see, feel, touch, taste and breath in life.
How free we would be to see the world if full color rather than in faded gray pigments.
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| Wagons by the road are filled with these colorful gourds. |
I may not write for a few days: that will be a good thing.
We'll be carefree, without schedules, duties, or woulda, shoulda, coulda moments.
TRAVELING: IT'S A GOOD THING
10-12:: Relatives
My family is scattered all over the country.
Hubby's family is simply scattered throughout our state.
One would think it is easy to visit relatives when they are only a few hours away.
So, why is this such a grand event?
No excuse.
Work, busy-ness, no specific 'event' to draw us together makes for a casual attitude about visits.
That said, as the eldest of the clan ages, it is nice to stay in touch.
Hubby's aunt, who helped raise him, is 93 and doing quite well after a very serious fall last year.
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| These look like Acai berries that grow in the tropics. What a surprise to see them growing near the US boarder during the summer. Relatives, transplanted in a variety of climates, also seem to flourish wherever we are planted. |
It's all part of the aging process.
Only one problem with her . . . no one can pick her up touching her right side . . . too much pain.
She learned to sit then roll into a position on her 'good side' so she can grab one of her low, soft chairs and pull herself into it.
So, upon visiting, we expected a tired feeble aunt . . . as we saw six months ago.
We were greeted by a vivacious, beautifully coifed (she did her own hair that morning), well dressed, smiling 'young' woman who seemed ready to P A R T Y !!!
Hubby's cousins, who visit her often each day, were also there to greet us.
Conversation was constant, filled with laughs and energy.
She even wanted to go to dinner with us . . . amazing.
Of course, this Italian family picked their favorite restaurant the features home-made everything.
In fact, one cousin was disappointed that there was no more angel hair pasta so the owner/cook made up a fresh batch just for him.
Food was beyond fabulous and served ever-so-simply.
In fact, the restaurant looks so plain on the outside that one could miss it if driving by.
'Auntie' invited us back to her home for cake and ice cream.
My downfall . . . ice cream
We all stayed up 'too late' compared to Auntie's normal schedule but laughed ourselves silly.
Fun, Food, Family . . . what more could we ask?
Perhaps it's because we don't get to see her as often as we should that we celebrate our time together.
We all enjoyed a great evening.
10-13:: Family
We had other relatives to visit that hubby had not seen for decades.
As we age we find it comforting to connect with those we may have barely known or spent little time with when we were younger.Family is family, no matter what the quirks and qualms we pick up along the way.
It's the quirkiness that we seem to overlook in our older years just to gather for remembering and stories and the 'good old days.'
Today we were given an extra surprise.
Relatives from two hours East, who we rarely see, arrived to see Auntie.
We were in the middle of fixing the grave site for hubby's dad when we got the call.
Down the mountain we came and, to our delight, I met hubby's nephew (one of the twins), his wife and their tiny new baby.
I had not seen the nephew for at least fifteen years so seeing him as a husband and father was a real treat. Others I'd not seen for years were also there, which was nice.
So, we celebrated 'family' once again . . . just for an hour as everyone was on their way to somewhere.
Auntie looked as if she were holding court and relished each moment of chaos with so many in her tiny living room.
JOYous conversation filled the space, as if we all had been around each other forever.
Auntie was looking great, pleased as punch, and knew this was a very special moment.
We now pray that she will grow even stronger and be able to greet us with the same vim and vigor for our next visit.
A few hours later we joined another side of the family.
Hubby wanted to make sure we 'connected' with the 'other' side.
We had a lovely two hours of listening.
Hubby and I are used to listening and asking questions to bring out the best in the other and to affirm others that we are truly interested in their hobbies and life-challenges.
It only takes one talker to absorb the energy of all. I learned a lot but wondered, deep in my heart, why they did not want to learn about us.
All in all, we had a lovely evening.
I know deep in my heart that Family, it's a wonderful thing.
10-14:: Crisp Air
It's hard to explain this change in the weather.
We wake up to fog . . . chilly-wet . . . that turns sunny and crisp.
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| Fall is such a fun time to find lovely decorated spots. No matter what else is happening, beauty gives rest to the soul. |
The trees have not yet changed color, which is unusual this time of year.
Perhaps September's drenching rain may have soaked roots that will take more weeks to dry?
Yet, Fall is here . . . I smell it . . . I feel it . . . my newly added layers of clothing attest to it.
I'm getting better about layering so that I can peel during the day.
By sun-down I finally seep to warm up.
With a filling dinner, I seem to remain warm for several hours.
Our drive home was lovely as we stopped now and again to enjoy the Fall sights and smells.
It was a 'just right' day and the trip seemed uneventful.
Perhaps the purpose of our visit brought additional renewal to our souls.
Hubby and I are enjoying this Fall, crisp air and all that goes with it.
10-15:: Ideology
We have been praying with intentionality daily.
We are specific, diligent and perseverant.
Daily intentionality.
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| I don't have to worry about the 'ideology' of beauty. Beauty IS. God created creation to be Beautiful. At least beauty can fill the soul. |
Persevering through every negative thought that comes our way.
We are praying about the presidential election.
I should be at peace, knowing that God is ultimately in control of our chaos on this earth.
At least God is watching and allowing it to happen until some point in time when God will cause all . . . all of us . . . to come to Him in awe . . . kneeling in humility . . . asking for relief from the staggering carnage we have allowed in this country where we are free to choose.
Our focus must remain on Ideology.
Neither candidate is untarnished but one may at least sustain a team with the ideology that glorifies God.
No matter what one promises for the 'common good' and no matter what we hope for, the most common good, above all else is LIFE.
Life of the unborn, life of the fragile elderly, life of those with major health problems . . . LIFE.
One presidential candidate chooses to allow my taxes to pay for destruction of life.
I can't abide that.
Nestled within my daily thoughts of God's goodness, I have a sense that the another calamity for human life may just happen . . . the election of one whose ideology is not only 'all for self' (both candidates qualify) but destruction of life.
God is still in control.
We can pray all we want.
God hears us but stands back because God gave us freedom to choose evil or good.
We will suffer the consequences.
Yet, it is the choice of many (who play gods themselves when it comes to life) who will choose their way, not God's way.
It's not the person we are voting for . . . praise God . . . but the ideology that is so important.
I choose the IDEOLOGY that focuses on LIFE.
10-16:: Perseverance
We reviewed scriptures from the old and new testaments that focused on persevering faith.
It's what I have been focusing on for the past month.
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| The school of technology gathered its students to build this home for visitors. Every department, students all, helped to create this masterpiece that is now a residence for special guests invited to the college. Each trusted the other to do their job. What a beautiful edifice they created! We remember that Moses was present at a time when the Israelites needed to trust in God so they would not be overcome in another battle. |
Moses held his hands up, giving glory to God, seeking God's blessing on this skirmish that would save the Israelites.
But the battle was long and Moses' arms were getting tired.
He needed the faithful to surround him and hold his arms up so God knew His presence was being acknowledged.
Sometimes we need a team to surround us and gird us in the fight for righteousness in this secular world.
Sometimes we need others to help 'gird our arms' for the war before us.
Praying together, in community, in agreement with what is being lifted to God . . . praying for a long period of time . . . every day . . . all day . . . forever . . . takes strength beyond my human capability.
I must call on others to help me continue to pray, to join me in prayer, to persevere, to not give up, to keep going, to walk that extra mile in prayer.
Perseverance builds up strength.
The stronger I become, the more I am able to persevere.
Just as God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit persevere as ONE to lead and guide me in my prayer, so I must commune with God, be in constant community, persevere in my communication as 'one' with God.
Persevering will always bring results . . . perhaps not the ones I choose . . . but my perseverance seems to provide clearer understanding of the journey God has set before me.
I persevere.
God does the rest.
Nice.
10-17:: Grief
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| Grief grows a garden of hope. When LIFE ebbs from us mere mortals, I place another plant in the ground and see the wonder of new life. |
We've all been grieving for nearly three weeks for my sister and her dying husband.
We got news this morning that the end came for him.
He is now at peace in the arms of the Lord and is free from his misery.
And now we feel the misery of missing him.
We each remember stories about him and pine over the good old days.
But his wife has to now return home, pick up the pieces and take care of messy details.
She has been by his side constantly for well over a year.
She has been in and out of hospital with him, listening, laughing or simply 'being' with him.
Her constant presence (and the presence of his sons) has been the greatest gift.
What now for her?
He is at peace.
She is in grief.
It's one thing to know your loved one is dying but it's another to experience the end.
THE END
No more name on mail.
No more name on guest lists.
No more name on email.
No More!
10-18:: Anxiety
Why do I feel anxious?
I'm grieving for dear relatives and friends who have died in the past two weeks but I feel a deep peace for them.
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| I was fascinated by this house. The owner chose dark, haunting colors that seemed to draw me back. My soul felt anxious for a moment, 'uninvited'. "Empty, foreboding, distant, unwelcome" seems to call out to me. Their ideology of "welcome" is different than mine. . . especially the black door. |
They struggled so long in this world and were waiting to be with the Lord, our God, for so long.
Each knew his destiny and was at peace with their last breath on this earth.
I am finally not working.
I retired last April but filled in for a couple churches who needed me for a few months.
I am, at last, free to make my own agenda . . . with hubby, of course.
So why so anxious?
It's the ideology of this country that has taken a tail spin.
I feel so strongly about how the government is filled with corruption because "we've always done it this way . . . After all, they have been in office their entire career."
It's the ideology of death . . . convenience . . . playing like we are little gods who are in charge of our own destiny with no regard to our Creator-God who will choose when we live and when we die.
God is in charge of LIFE until God takes us from this earth . . . we must not play God.
It's leadership that tells the hard working people of this wonderful country that they must pay more for medical aid with less access to good care.
It's some in the Supreme Court who dictate with their personal ideology instead of truly understanding and voting within the confines of the Constitution.
It's the ones who say, "Let's hide this information from the public" because they know they have broken the pledge of their jobs. . . and even Federal Law.
It's the IRS leaders who choose to focus on making the tax situation extremely difficult for those who do not follow their ideology.
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| The door is painted with great care. I feel I should tread carefully upon entering. I need to breathe deep and seek the friendship of one whose soul might tell me a very interesting story. |
It's the Little Sisters of the Poor, who have devoted their lives and given an oath of POVERTY so that they might help the destitute, who have to use donated funds . . . that could help the impoverished . . . to defend their religious convictions.
It's the religion of Humanism, taught in the schools for the past sixty years, that has now seeped into
the souls of two generations.
It's this suffocation of God's way vs. human's way that is eroding the purpose for humanity to be on this earth . . . to honor our Creator . . . to give back by giving to others . . . to love God by loving our neighbor . . . all neighbors . . . even those who do not believe the way I believe.
It's nurturing those who are most difficult to nurture.
It's giving a bit more, by my own choice, where I see fit to give . . . not following the dictates of those who want power and honor and mandate an ideology I cannot abide.
Yet, with all this, I should be anxious for nothing.
My God shall meet all my needs.
I have Life, I have liberty and I have a 'happiness' that is not self-focused but that is God-focused.
I pray I can just B R E A T H E . . . no matter what ideology of corruption continues to bombard my soul.
I have people to pray for, visit, nurture, love.
I have things to do that glorify God . . . make God 'more' and make myself 'less.'
B R E A T H E
F O C U S
Praise God from Whom ALL BLESSINGS FLOW.
Away with anxiety, who cares about ideology.
God is with me always. AMEN
10-19:: Indian Summer
I don't know why we call our 'return to a few days of Summer' Indian Summer but I like it.
Nights are cool but days heat up while soft wisps of wind keep us cool.
It's a time to cut the garden back but it is blooming better than I've seen the whole summer.
Just when I'm ready to pile the blankets on and settle in for the winter it's BEAUTIFUL outside.
We've had two frosts.
Yet, the garden never looked nicer.
So, I help my neighbor by taking dirt he no longer needs.
My garden is so happy!
Fields filled with stalks of beige and tan corn are now empty.
Alfalfa, thrown in to restore nutrients, gives new life to empty spaces.
Pops of green mixed with tan and gold blend nicely with the red and orange leaves that are just now beginning to change.
Roses pile on top of Winterberries . . . so bright with RED.
Yellow roses bend over the blue stone birdbath as Finches flit about in delight.
HAPPY HAPPY is nature right now . . . at the end of it's annual tenure.
I think God delights in this extra burst of life before the final demise of all things in the garden.
Indian Summer . . . a wondrous name for this interlude of Fall.
I was first introduced to Nigel more than twelve years ago.
He was young but had a powerful ministry.
He told his story about how God drew this British Marine into His presence and how Nigel simply followed what God set before him.
He had experienced numerous traumas in the battles in Belfast Ireland and lived to tell about it.
Yet, his greatest battle was against principalities that kept him from doing what God wanted him to
do.
In the midst of his own battles his sister, a principal ballerina in the Royal Ballet, developed Dystonia, a disease that twists the muscles of the body so fiercely that one could become totally deformed and remain that way no matter what physicians were able to do.
Nigel prayed.
He prayed with her, gathered hundreds to pray for her all over the world, and prayed some more.
She was miraculously healed.
The physicians said it was truly a miracle.
After the military, Nigel worked in a frame shop but patrons came to his store for prayer more than for picture framing.
Years of learning, teaching others and touching lives of thousands has turned into full time ministry.
In fact, if it were not for miracles in his own life, we would not be enjoying his ministry today.
In 2009 he was completing a conference when he fell ill.
Doctors thought it was a bad cough.
Within hours he was near death and later had to be placed into an 'induced coma' for 19 days so that the body could try to heal itself.
H1N1 . . . Swine Flu . . . was nearly fatal.
Thousands all over the world were praying for Nigel.
His wife sat by his ICU bed each day . . . all day.
When she took a break another sat in the chair beside his bed.
He speaks of the times he actually died and had 'out of body experiences' and explains about five of them.
One year later Nigel was back on the road again, praying with people, healing souls and bodies, teaching and learning from others.
I think Nigel has actually died about seven times . . . the stories are endless . . . but God chooses to keep him alive to this day.
His body is weaker and his lungs will never be the same but his JOY and his sense of humor have never faded.
We experienced Nigel this summer with an intimate group of people at a small conference.
We simply wanted a retreat time to restore our own souls and were greatly blessed.
We experienced Nigel this summer with an intimate group of people at a small conference.
We simply wanted a retreat time to restore our own souls and were greatly blessed.
I love Nigel's British accent and his favorite word, Brilliant!, is his signature.
In fact, when any of us say "Brilliant" it's like we are sending up a prayer to God to keep Nigel going.
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| This book is a MUST for anyone who has experienced trauma in their lives. All of us can glean something from it. |
Right now Fr. Nigel (he has been ordained in the Anglican/Episcopal church since 2009) is in a Virginia navel base treating endless cases of PTSD with prayer.
And it's working!
It's a long haul for many but each one who wishes to take the journey with the Lord's healing hand working within, is one less suicide of the twenty-two that are recorded daily for military.
I've read nearly all of Nigel's books but am currently reading "After the Trauma the Battle Begins" . . . his work with those traumatized by PTSD in the military. Yet he explains that many life-traumas can cause PTSD in any of us.
Many of us have survived a traumatic life experience and many more have not learned how to heal within and forgive and move forward. Nigel walks us through the tangled web of emotional trauma and how devastating it is for our soul.
He has been through so many traumas that he speaks from his heart and knowledge to all those who have been or know someone who has been vulnerable in a life experience.
I've read nearly all of Nigel's books but am currently reading "After the Trauma the Battle Begins" . . . his work with those traumatized by PTSD in the military. Yet he explains that many life-traumas can cause PTSD in any of us.
Many of us have survived a traumatic life experience and many more have not learned how to heal within and forgive and move forward. Nigel walks us through the tangled web of emotional trauma and how devastating it is for our soul.
He has been through so many traumas that he speaks from his heart and knowledge to all those who have been or know someone who has been vulnerable in a life experience.
Nigel Mumford . . . BRILLIANT !
10-21:: Struggle
Some days I struggle to find words to write.
Today is that kind of day.
My mind is mush.
Not that I'm not thinking . . . I'm thinking about too many things.
It's like I'm struggling to move into that peaceful moment where words flood my soul.
So, I simply ignore words, thoughts, ideas.
I move on to simple tasks like sorting through my junque drawer . . .
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| My beautiful rose bush was only three feet high when we planted it. It struggled for six years to grow up the 10ft. wall and the 4ft. fence so that it spills its scarlet beauty over the top. Struggle brings b e a u t i f u l results. |
an amazing mess of things I thought I'd lost.
Isn't that how the brain is sometimes?
It's like there is so much 'junque' filling my mind that I can't find the words I need to say.
They've gotten lost.
The struggle is to focus, to find that empty space to simply BE.
B R E A T H E . . . I tell myself.
I let my brain wander into my soul in order to search for a point of focus.
Proverbs 3: 5 comes to mind . . . part of my 'life' verse.
"Trust" is the first word.
Simply TRUST.
The struggle for words slowly ebbs and a renewed peace envelopes me.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding . . . "
Now that is a relief.
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| This is one of many beautiful farms right behind our house. The 'perfect' fields and pristine buildings took time and diligence to complete. This farmer may have had many struggles but what a fabulous result for all to enjoy, including those who eat what he grows. |
I am not suppose to figure out why my brain is spinning freely with nothing spewing out.
I'm simply directed to Trust in God, not in my own reasoning capabilities.
I'm breathing better already.
My own reasoning today is mush.
The only way to pick words from my brain is to trust in the right timing, trust in God's purpose for me today, trust that each moment will bear what I'm suppose to bring forth.
And so, as I breathe deep and trust in God, I find the word "struggle."
I could write volumes on the word since it has been the core of my life for decades.
I have struggled to obtain the knowledge, understanding or proper credentials for the work that I have done over the decades . . . the work that God has called me to accomplish.
Struggle isn't all bad.
It's gotten me into some wonderful adventures.
So, struggle is part of me, part of my life, part of my accomplishments.
What a blessing that I have come this far . . . even if my accomplishments have been through a struggle.
10-22: Humility and Pride
I'm reviewing the scripture in Luke 18:9-14 about the Pharisee and the Tax Collector.
A Pharisee is a highly regarded scholar, a leader in the Jewish community in Jesus' day and a true 'rules' guy.
He is deemed 'perfect' and knows it.
After all, he follows every rule, lives by God's commandments, prays the required prayers at the requited times each day, attends or participates in every required feast and fast and gives a full tithe . . . 10% . . . to the temple.
Who can beat that?
If one is following the 'rules' and living life 'perfectly' according to the prescribed behavior for his
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| Billy Graham was the essence of humility. He spent his life sharing the love of Christ and inviting millions to follow. |
role, wouldn't he have earned a bit of pride?
Wouldn't the Pharisee deserve to pray, "Thank you, God, that I am not like those 'sinners' out there."
Jesus is sharing this parable in the midst of his followers and those pesky Pharisees lurking in his midst almost daily.
Jesus not only describes the Pharisee's behavior but also describes the vocation of the tax collector (despised by all Jews) who worked for the Romans and took more taxes from the poor Jews than was required.
Yet in this story, the tax collector is in the temple, head bowed in repentance, seeking God's forgiveness.
The Pharisee is muttering a prayer to himself praising himself that he is not like the 'dregs' of society like the tax collector.
Who has more humility?
As I age and review the awesome personal 'mountains' I have climbed to accomplished many goals, I could very well be like the Pharisee.
Look at me, Lord.
And yet, my life of books and learning and accomplishment is pure trash if my heart is not in the right place.
I have been humbled too many times to count by the quiet one who serves the Lord with gladness, behind the scenes, completing tasks silently, unbeknown by others.
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| My dad, pictured with his sister, never told us how many foundations he supported, how many hospitals, universities, or groups he helped to build. He silently gave millions. What a guy! He is almost 102 and will soon be with the Lord who has directed his path all his life. |
They have shown me, by their gracious actions, by their continuous sacrifice how they encourage others to do better, be better, work better, live better.
That's humility.
I sit and watch and ponder the grace in their souls that surpasses understanding.
I observe their continuous desire to remain unknown, to work behind the scenes, to glorify God by simple acts of kindness . . . by listening . . . by sharing . . . by giving from the little they have.
Humility . . . can this be learned?
The tax collector learned that the love of God is there for him if he simply submits to God and turns from an occupation that might bring wealth at the expense of the destitute.
The Pharisee rests on top of his mountain of 'perfection' and is so focused on his love of self that he is myopic to the love of God waiting to be poured upon him in abundance . . . if only he has one morsel of humility.
I pray that some day, I will have learned the lessons of humility.
I simply must keep letting go of self and give continuous praise to God for the abundance of grace He pours out on me daily . . . even though I could never possibly deserve it, no matter what I do, no matter how hard I 'work'.
There is only One who can truly teach us humility, Jesus Christ, who humbled Himself by crucifixion, by taking our sin upon Himself . . . thus being separated from the Father. . . the greatest agony beyond his torturous death . . . so that I, who do not deserve God's grace, can live eternally . . . filled with God's grace.
Other than Christ Jesus, I have experienced several people in my life who have 'died to self' and with the quiet joy of satisfaction, enabled others to soar through life.
I continue to learn from them.
Some day I may learn humility and fully bury my pride . . . some day.
10-23:: Inspiration
One definition of inspiration that I heard was "to breathe life into an idea."
I thought that was nifty.
I'm often 'inspired' to do something 'out of the box' so to speak.
I never thought I was breathing life into this tiny speck that pops out of my brain.
I guess it's like blowing up a balloon.
I have the shell that is capable of expanding to a certain extent.
I can either blow a few puffs or b r e a t h e deeply into this empty cavity.
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| Mother Teresa had an idea so she went to India. With little affirmation and no money she began with one shack and reached out to one person to nurture to health and love. The 'Order' she began is all over the world and has helped millions. One little idea was given a huge breath of life. She has inspired millions. |
Either way, the balloon will expand.
The more I breathe into this balloon, however, the more it will take shape and may even float if I push it upward a bit.
In the same way, I can take a speck of an idea and not breathe enough life into it to get it off the ground . . .
Inspiration is like a balloon.
I can breath enough life into it to bat it around . . . to bounce my idea off a friend . . . who can bat that idea back to me with even more energy . . . or creativity.
So, inspiration might be the movement . . . the breathing enough life into an idea for others to enjoy.
They, too, become inspired and breathe life into the idea . . . which enables it to expand further.
Inspiration . . . breath of life that creates an idea.
My soul . . . my mind, will and emotions . . . thrives on inspiration.
I pray that God's 'inspiration' enables me to enjoy the process of breathing life into ideas and sharing them . . . much like I enjoy batting a fully blown balloon amongst friends.
10-24:: A Day of Remembrance for Paul Alex Geiger.
My step sister lives in a more remote area of Northern Minnesota but the church was full.
Over 150 dear friends and relatives from near and far were there to remember the most humble guy one could meet.
Anyone who spent any amount of time with him would never have heard the incredible war stories Alex kept close to his soul after his sojourn in Vietnam.
I was very impressed when my brother wrote the following about Alex:
"The service was lovely and featured remarks from Alex Thomson who had a standing weekly lunch appointment with his uncle Alex for most of his teen years. He learned a lot from that mentorship and as a senior writing assignment to interview a military man, he interviewed Alex and shared some of what he had learned with us.
The typical number of missions flown by combat pilots in Viet Nam was 25. Few flew over 35. Alex flew 332. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, the highest medal short of the Medal of Honor one can receive. He received 23 Air Medals during his service, so many that the Air Force had to come up with a new way to display them on his uniform.
His most harrowing flight was when a bomb he released from his F4 Phantom detonated within seconds after its release, rather than thousands of feet below his plane. He lost most of his flight controls and one engine from the blast yet managed to land the severely damaged plane at his assigned base despite leaking fuel all the way. "
The typical number of missions flown by combat pilots in Viet Nam was 25. Few flew over 35. Alex flew 332. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, the highest medal short of the Medal of Honor one can receive. He received 23 Air Medals during his service, so many that the Air Force had to come up with a new way to display them on his uniform.
His most harrowing flight was when a bomb he released from his F4 Phantom detonated within seconds after its release, rather than thousands of feet below his plane. He lost most of his flight controls and one engine from the blast yet managed to land the severely damaged plane at his assigned base despite leaking fuel all the way. "
"[My brother] and he were both stationed in Chu Lai, not at the same time, and he never mentioned any of the above stories. As with the “Greatest Generation” he believed he was just doing his job."
We will dearly miss Alex.
10-24:: Visits
What a perfect day to test 'inspiration.'
Ideas burst forth as I am in the presence of three friends today . . . all at different times.
We all have 'things to do, places to go, people to see' and can only meet when we carve out time in our schedules.
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| The labyrinth is like my journey as I visited with dear souls. I take time to walk slowly, deeply, into the thoughts and dreams we share together. Inspired, I walk back out having breathed life into new ideas. They each inspired me in a different way. Oh JOY! |
One friend could be my daughter, is a mother of two, a wife, works part time and finds time to absorb ideas from reading every kind of book one can imagine.
She is filled with knowledge, creativity and joy that is inspired by her faithful walk in Christ.
She passes her inspiration to me as we touch a variety of subjects.
As we share, we are both filled with 'new breath', a new perspective.
I seem to bounce with a lighter step after our time together.
Love it.
I have just enough time to enjoy a beautiful drive to meet another friend.
We had to squeeze in time to see each other because she is going one direction and I am going another for several months.
We try to carve out at least three hours as our stream of conversation always takes unusual twists and turns and 'inspiration' fills our souls.
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| I think of time with dear friends as joyous and fullfiling as time in my garden. When freshly planted all seemed perfect. Now there is a 'patina' of moss and mold and dirt on the bricks. Herbs are spilling far beyond its parameters. The gift of years with friends and my garden only make for more beauty for the soul. |
We stimulate one another 'to love and good deeds.'
We are definitely peers in every way, fully understanding one another as our thoughts weave together.
We leave with new lists of books to read, with points to ponder and prayers to share with others.
We leave full . . . knowing that our next meeting will be many months in the future.
We are in the same vocation so, more often than not, we simply nod assurances with each other.
Afterwards, I feel like I am soaring above the chaos of life as it swirls around us.
Refreshing.
I then call ahead to see if this is a good day to visit my friend in skilled nursing.
I haven't known her long.
She was home bound for several years before I even knew about her.
Due to her health and circumstances, I've only been visiting her for about six weeks (after a pause of almost three years).
Six weeks ago, on my first visit, I found her to be blind, depressed, fearful, and unable to get out of bed for the past five months. I felt 'called' to ask her husband if it was possible to visit weekly.
Her willingness to receive prayer, to chat about whatever comes into her mind and to simply 'be' when I am with her has taught me so much.
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| Aged and overgrown, my delight grows deeper. |
After my first visit she can now see and we have breathed life into some ideas (inspiration) so that she seems less fearful.
Today she had therapy and walked at least ten feet!
She was perky and asked very specific questions that, perhaps, added another layer to her foundation of faith in Christ Jesus.
I prayed with her and we chatted for a whole hour.
I could tell she was getting tired.
She most certainly extended enough energy into the visit.
She is becoming such a dear friend who is filled with more joy each day.
Her mind seems clearer and less burdened even though I know she becomes befuddled and confused at times.
We simply enjoy the moment knowing that it is the precious present that is the most important, especially with The Holy Presence so present in our lives.
I pray I have inspired her as much as she has inspired me.
Silent Joy.
10-25:: Tea Time
A group I belong to has various chapters all over the United States.
We have five chapters right here where we live.
In fact, members of other chapters live in the community where we reside.
Every two years we delight in some fun activity with all five chapters.
It's the only time we gather together where there is no set agenda.
So, this year we were all invited, for a small fee, to TEA.
I'd been driving by the road that leads to this culinary vocational school for years.
The 'turn off' from a very busy street is so nondescript that even when I came upon it I would not have noticed it.
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| Mary Englebreit says it all. It's good to be indulged once in awhile. |
Today, workmen were actually fixing the rough road so we were redirected around the next corner, through the alley and . . . . eventually . . . across the lawn of the campus to arrive at this delightful little restaurant run by students.
I just happened to follow one car ahead of me and about twelve others trailed behind.
What a sight it must have been for the faithful students who stood at various points re-directing us around and about and across the lawn to the original parking lot.
How sweet of them to stand out in the brisk, cold breeze to welcome us and show us their hospitality.
I have been to tea in Washington D.C. many times, in Vancouver, in London and so many lovely towns.
Yet, this tea was TEA!
We began with pumpkin soup with a bit of a kick.
Then Quiche and a small salad
Then we were served a three-tiered tray of 'savory and sweet' treats that could have been more than enough to fill us.
We could taste the fresh ingredients and knew the students had spent hours preparing our TEA FEAST.
Decaf Mango Tea was a perfect addition to the fine table cloths and napkins folded into lovely roses.
I felt like a queen.
It's rare that hubby likes 'frilly' eateries.
We usually eat at a Panera Bread Restaurant, which I love because everything is organic and healthy.
But, once in awhile it is pure delight to indulge in too many calories and bites of delicious that I shouldn't have.
YUM . . . TEA TIME . . . IT'S THE BEST!
10-26 The Eyes have it.
No wonder God created us with two ears, two different openings to breathe and two eyes.
When one is not working we still have the other . . . especially when it comes to breathing.
Having been born with very bad eyes and now struggling to focus almost daily, I'm very aware of the point at which I might not be able to see clearly enough to read.
I pray that day will not come but I do think about it.
Who knew that hubby, who has never worn glasses, just had his fourth eye surgery.
This time it was for 'floaters.'
We all have them.
I've been dodging mine for years . . . but I only have one or two.
His eye was so filled with them that he could not use that eye to read.
He thought the twenty minute procedure would be as easy as cataract removal.
Guess again.
The healing process is quite long and he must return to the doctor to check the progress several times.
I consider that a 'good thing' as the retina doctor is very conscientious and concerned about each patient.
As designated driver for a few days I thought I'd also be taking care of a fragile hubby.
Not so. He is already on the computer doing one thing or another after returning from the surgery.
We are 'early to bed' so we can have the eye checked early in the morning.
It's nice to take one night off form the constant barrage of politics on TV.
Perhaps the EYES have the right idea.
REST, RELAX, REMOVE oneself from extra stress every few nights.
Who gets my vote?
The EYES have it in my opinion.
10-27:: FINISHED!
After we returned from a good visit with the eye doctor, hubby and I enjoyed a lovely breakfast and
then went our separate ways to complete chores or finish activities we seem to create almost daily.
A couple months ago I found this beautiful Cross Stitch that is rather large but is also "32 count."
Anyone who does cross stitch will know that even young eyes need a magnifying glass for such close work . . . 32 single stitches to the inch!
Am I nuts?
Most likely . . . nothing new there.
All I needed was to finish the boarder: Williamsburg homes with trees and fences, each with several colors of thread and intricate detail.
Since the center was finished, how long could this take?
Let's see.
Each tree took almost an hour = 20 trees and bushes.
Each house took too many nights to count.
The fence seemed easy but took longer than I thought.
I only allowed three hours a night . . . almost every night I did not have a meeting.
Countless hours later I am FINISHED!
I began this work twenty years ago, before our two last moves.
It's nice to find incomplete work that is worth completion.
This Cross Stitch is one of several different projects I am trying to complete.
They all have meaning but my many Cross Stitch projects tell the story of my journey over decades.
One of these days my life will end and I will be able to rightfully say, "It is FINISHED."
10-28:: Zacchaeus
His name is actually well known among those I question.
They recall his name but are vague on the story.
In Luke 19, Zacchaeus is the tax collector who climbs the tree to see Jesus.
He is well known in the city of Jericho, not only because he is the tax collector but also because he is quite wealthy.
People would steer clear of him but they would never taunt him.
Reason: He would extort even more taxes from anyone who spoke against him.
Tax collectors were paid by the Romans to demand taxes from individuals that, more often than not, would cause a family to live on the edge of poverty and, in many cases, cause them to lose the simple abode that they may have owned.
Since Romans don't pay tax collectors, it is assumed that the collector would demand extra funds from each household .
It is like our current mail order challenge.
"Shipping and handling" may cost almost as much as the ordered item.
For Zacchaeus to climb a tree was unseemly.
Why did he not simply push into the front of the crowd to gain a first-hand view of Jesus?
Perhaps because time was imminent and he did not feel like shoving and pushing his small stature through those who towered over him.
It may have been easier to gain a tree-top view of Jesus, as he and the disciples were warmly greeted upon their entrance through the gates of Jericho.
Jesus not only knew his name but called to Zacchaeus to come down and told him that He, Jesus, would come to his house for dinner.
How audacious of Jesus.
Inviting himself over to someone's house, especially that of a tax collector?
He's gotta be nuts.
Jesus knew that the divine power of God would squarely face Zacchaeus, confronting his life of sin.
God's grace filled Zacchaeus, who not only repented of his sinful ways but also promised to repay, four-fold, those people he had compromised.
Zacchaeus, a descendant of Abraham, from the tribes of Israel, returned to God, did a 180 and repented because the reality of the Divine invited Himself into Zacchaeus' heart and soul.
I pray that these words of Jesus enter into the 'private space' of those who read or hear these words, penetrate souls so that another might seek the heart of God through His Son, Jesus Christ.
10-29:: Red Flag
There is something about Saturday that makes me want to stop.
Just stop.
I linger far too long in the morning doing who knows what.
I'm like a kid slowly kicking though the fall leaves as a distraction so that I am late to my destination.
Saturdays are "my" day . . . scheduled according to 'my' needs so that I can gain a respite from my own expectations as well as the expectations of others.
Yet, Saturday is also my 'visiting' day . . . when I visit my homebound friend and gain so much joy after each visit.
This 'self' time feeds my soul.
Today I also listen to another dear friend who is wearing a neck brace for weeks as her surgery heals.
She's not concerned about herself but for another friend who called to share from her soul.
This friend wants to give up being a care-giver to her husband who has been sick far too long.
"He should have died by now," she says.
RED FLAG pierces through my soul.
This care-giver has not taken care of herself.
It's tricky.
We love our spouses and want to be by their side during long, terminal illnesses.
Yet, each minute drains the soul of the healthy one.
Physical dying and soul-death need to be attended to equally.
Often, the one who is physically dying is processing eternal life and is taking time, hopefully with a pastor, to reflect on one's upcoming death.
We're all dying so we should all do this but the caregiver is on another path.
The care giver may want to make sure s/he has done all s/he possibly can so when the loved one dies, s/he can safely say, "I did my best, I did everything I could, I gave my all, I can be at peace."
Only one problem.
No matter how devoted we are to the other, no matter how many hours we spend giving care, no matter how this process drains us, we will still feel a deep sense of loss when that person dies.
We will say to ourselves, "I shoulda, coulda, woulda . . . "
It's natural.
No matter what we do or do not do, it will never be right or never be enough because . . . in the end . . . death separates the living from the dying . . . at least physically and it hurts.
All too often I have experienced the caregiver either dying before the one being given care or dying shortly afterwards.
The one who shared the "red flag" moment needs to "receive permission" from herself to physically separate from the care receiver for a few hours every single day.
The key word is 'receive.'
Is it guilt?
Is it control by that other person who might press the 'guilt' button even deeper?
We are each so different.
Most of the time we simply think it is our duty as spouses to run ourselves into a deep ditch with the burdens we carry while our better half lays there so helpless.
None of us likes to watch another suffer but perhaps the caregiver is suffering in a different way.
It's something to think about.
We should talk with our loved ones regarding any challenging circumstance that leaves one bed-ridden and in need of care . . . before it happens.
Easier said than done.
Hubby and I do talk about these things and have bounced ideas back and forth regarding what each would do.
Most important, we have embraced wonderful friends who could remind us to 'take a break' or 'lighten up' or even gather volunteers to enable the 'healthy' one to take a break.
Hubby and I have also stashed extra funds away, beside the long term insurance, so we can hire someone to come in daily and give relief to one of us if necessary.
Depending on children to be caregivers is assuming too much of them as they most likely are caregivers to their own children.
We never know what health problems might arise unexpectedly.
In the mean time, we are pro-active about our health: physically and spiritually.
I pray I do not get to the point where I share a challenge that shows a RED FLAG.
Prayerfully, all will be in place so that we can take positive steps to give care to the caregiver.
10-30:: Glorious Indian Summer Day
"This is the day that the Lord has made, we will rejoice and be glad!"
We usually do not get home from church until late in the day.
We join our elder-friend for brunch and recall wonderful stories about his wife who just died.
But today was different.
Our friend is having chemo treatments and cannot go to restaurants right now.
AND it is 84 degrees!
What?
I re-read the thermometer.
Take away a few degrees for the blasts of wind that tumble through our property.
It's still warm enough to get a ton of yard work completed before the cold sets in.
Little did I know that three hours would be the max time I could work in the yard.
Black clouds gathered far too soon for me to get everything done but I did manage to clean up most of the gardens.
I'd done a ton of work a few weeks ago so I felt great satisfaction when chilly winds began to penetrate my bones . . . and blow dried leaves in my face.
Minutes after I placed the full bags of refuse in a safe place and closed up the house a torrent of rain pummeled our small abode.
Temparatures dropped as quickly as they rose.
All too soon Indian Summer is over and Fall is sneaking into our environs.
That's OK.
We needed the rain and I'm ready for cool, crisp days.
10:31:: All Hallow-ed Eve
For centuries "Halloween" has been celebrated in conjunction with All Saint's Day the next day.
The eve of All Saint's Day . . . a most 'hallowed' eve . . . is meant to prepare for the remembrance of those souls who are no longer with us on earth.
Gourds were emptied of contents by carving through the back of the gourd.
A scary face is carved into the facade with a candle placed inside.
That way, the long gourd stem could be used as a handle for the 'lantern' that is carried from house to house as neighbors GIVE treats, good tidings and prayers for the deceased as they prepare for the next day when they celebrate the lives of those who died in Christ.
After all, those who died in Christ are saints even if they may not be "Sainted".
The scary face and fire inside the gourd were thought to whisk away any evil spirits lurking around to hinder the passage of "friendly" spirits on this day.
It was thought that this one Eve each year, halloween, was the only time the spirits of those who died could visit their loved ones still on earth.
By tradition, on November 1, we celebrate all who died in Christ, the saints. on November 2 many churches celebrate the lives of specific "saints" (those remembered by those in the parish) who died within the previous year . . . all souls . . . on All Souls Day.
So much has changed over the centuries.
Parents still dress the smaller children in precious costumes and follow them around as they TAKE treats from neighbors.
Hubby and I love to see the little ones so excited and filled with awe as they come to our house.
Unfortunately, the true meaning of this fall fete has been overtaken by sinister people who have made it a fearful eve for many.
Will GOOD ever surpass EVIL?
It's our choice.
If we choose to bring God's Light into every corner of darkness, evil will slink away to find another place to do it's dastardly work.
All Hallows Eve should be a grand 'end of October' celebration where neighbors share food and stories of loved ones who are no longer with us.
At least some churches offer a special time of family celebration with goodies for the whole family.
I am looking forward to the next month, when we no longer place so much focus on monsters and things that 'go bump in the dark.'
No wonder God created us with two ears, two different openings to breathe and two eyes.
When one is not working we still have the other . . . especially when it comes to breathing.
Having been born with very bad eyes and now struggling to focus almost daily, I'm very aware of the point at which I might not be able to see clearly enough to read.
I pray that day will not come but I do think about it.
Who knew that hubby, who has never worn glasses, just had his fourth eye surgery.
This time it was for 'floaters.'
We all have them.
I've been dodging mine for years . . . but I only have one or two.
 |
| You would think I could keep my eyes open for a picture! No wonder I have so few pictures of myself. The 'eyes have it.' |
He thought the twenty minute procedure would be as easy as cataract removal.
Guess again.
The healing process is quite long and he must return to the doctor to check the progress several times.
I consider that a 'good thing' as the retina doctor is very conscientious and concerned about each patient.
As designated driver for a few days I thought I'd also be taking care of a fragile hubby.
Not so. He is already on the computer doing one thing or another after returning from the surgery.
We are 'early to bed' so we can have the eye checked early in the morning.
It's nice to take one night off form the constant barrage of politics on TV.
Perhaps the EYES have the right idea.
REST, RELAX, REMOVE oneself from extra stress every few nights.
Who gets my vote?
The EYES have it in my opinion.
10-27:: FINISHED!
After we returned from a good visit with the eye doctor, hubby and I enjoyed a lovely breakfast and
 |
| I lived close enough to Williamsburg to visit it several times. It has been years since I was there. Where there is space for my name, I also added the date and place we lived at the time. I had to add: FINI - 2016 after it sat dormant for twenty years! This picture is far more perfect than my imperfect stitching but I love what I've done. |
A couple months ago I found this beautiful Cross Stitch that is rather large but is also "32 count."
Anyone who does cross stitch will know that even young eyes need a magnifying glass for such close work . . . 32 single stitches to the inch!
Am I nuts?
Most likely . . . nothing new there.
All I needed was to finish the boarder: Williamsburg homes with trees and fences, each with several colors of thread and intricate detail.
Since the center was finished, how long could this take?
Let's see.
Each tree took almost an hour = 20 trees and bushes.
Each house took too many nights to count.
The fence seemed easy but took longer than I thought.
I only allowed three hours a night . . . almost every night I did not have a meeting.
Countless hours later I am FINISHED!
I began this work twenty years ago, before our two last moves.
It's nice to find incomplete work that is worth completion.
This Cross Stitch is one of several different projects I am trying to complete.
They all have meaning but my many Cross Stitch projects tell the story of my journey over decades.
One of these days my life will end and I will be able to rightfully say, "It is FINISHED."
10-28:: Zacchaeus
His name is actually well known among those I question.
They recall his name but are vague on the story.
In Luke 19, Zacchaeus is the tax collector who climbs the tree to see Jesus.
He is well known in the city of Jericho, not only because he is the tax collector but also because he is quite wealthy.
People would steer clear of him but they would never taunt him.
Reason: He would extort even more taxes from anyone who spoke against him.
Tax collectors were paid by the Romans to demand taxes from individuals that, more often than not, would cause a family to live on the edge of poverty and, in many cases, cause them to lose the simple abode that they may have owned.
"Shipping and handling" may cost almost as much as the ordered item.
 |
| This may be somewhat like the tree Zacchaeus climbed. Amazingly, this tree grows in a grand garden not too far from us. |
For Zacchaeus to climb a tree was unseemly.
Why did he not simply push into the front of the crowd to gain a first-hand view of Jesus?
Perhaps because time was imminent and he did not feel like shoving and pushing his small stature through those who towered over him.
It may have been easier to gain a tree-top view of Jesus, as he and the disciples were warmly greeted upon their entrance through the gates of Jericho.
Jesus not only knew his name but called to Zacchaeus to come down and told him that He, Jesus, would come to his house for dinner.
How audacious of Jesus.
Inviting himself over to someone's house, especially that of a tax collector?
He's gotta be nuts.
Jesus knew that the divine power of God would squarely face Zacchaeus, confronting his life of sin.
God's grace filled Zacchaeus, who not only repented of his sinful ways but also promised to repay, four-fold, those people he had compromised.
Zacchaeus, a descendant of Abraham, from the tribes of Israel, returned to God, did a 180 and repented because the reality of the Divine invited Himself into Zacchaeus' heart and soul.
I pray that these words of Jesus enter into the 'private space' of those who read or hear these words, penetrate souls so that another might seek the heart of God through His Son, Jesus Christ.
10-29:: Red Flag
There is something about Saturday that makes me want to stop.
Just stop.
I linger far too long in the morning doing who knows what.
I'm like a kid slowly kicking though the fall leaves as a distraction so that I am late to my destination.
Saturdays are "my" day . . . scheduled according to 'my' needs so that I can gain a respite from my own expectations as well as the expectations of others.
 |
| This should be my my quote for life. I live it almost daily. |
This 'self' time feeds my soul.
Today I also listen to another dear friend who is wearing a neck brace for weeks as her surgery heals.
She's not concerned about herself but for another friend who called to share from her soul.
This friend wants to give up being a care-giver to her husband who has been sick far too long.
"He should have died by now," she says.
RED FLAG pierces through my soul.
This care-giver has not taken care of herself.
It's tricky.
We love our spouses and want to be by their side during long, terminal illnesses.
Yet, each minute drains the soul of the healthy one.
Physical dying and soul-death need to be attended to equally.
Often, the one who is physically dying is processing eternal life and is taking time, hopefully with a pastor, to reflect on one's upcoming death.
We're all dying so we should all do this but the caregiver is on another path.
The care giver may want to make sure s/he has done all s/he possibly can so when the loved one dies, s/he can safely say, "I did my best, I did everything I could, I gave my all, I can be at peace."
Only one problem.
No matter how devoted we are to the other, no matter how many hours we spend giving care, no matter how this process drains us, we will still feel a deep sense of loss when that person dies.
We will say to ourselves, "I shoulda, coulda, woulda . . . "
It's natural.
No matter what we do or do not do, it will never be right or never be enough because . . . in the end . . . death separates the living from the dying . . . at least physically and it hurts.
All too often I have experienced the caregiver either dying before the one being given care or dying shortly afterwards.
The one who shared the "red flag" moment needs to "receive permission" from herself to physically separate from the care receiver for a few hours every single day.
The key word is 'receive.'
Is it guilt?
 |
| Life is challenging at best. Some days all I seem to do is kneel. |
We are each so different.
Most of the time we simply think it is our duty as spouses to run ourselves into a deep ditch with the burdens we carry while our better half lays there so helpless.
None of us likes to watch another suffer but perhaps the caregiver is suffering in a different way.
It's something to think about.
We should talk with our loved ones regarding any challenging circumstance that leaves one bed-ridden and in need of care . . . before it happens.
Easier said than done.
Hubby and I do talk about these things and have bounced ideas back and forth regarding what each would do.
Most important, we have embraced wonderful friends who could remind us to 'take a break' or 'lighten up' or even gather volunteers to enable the 'healthy' one to take a break.
Hubby and I have also stashed extra funds away, beside the long term insurance, so we can hire someone to come in daily and give relief to one of us if necessary.
Depending on children to be caregivers is assuming too much of them as they most likely are caregivers to their own children.
We never know what health problems might arise unexpectedly.
In the mean time, we are pro-active about our health: physically and spiritually.
I pray I do not get to the point where I share a challenge that shows a RED FLAG.
Prayerfully, all will be in place so that we can take positive steps to give care to the caregiver.
10-30:: Glorious Indian Summer Day
"This is the day that the Lord has made, we will rejoice and be glad!"
We usually do not get home from church until late in the day.
We join our elder-friend for brunch and recall wonderful stories about his wife who just died.
But today was different.
Our friend is having chemo treatments and cannot go to restaurants right now.
AND it is 84 degrees!
What?
I re-read the thermometer.
 |
| I don't know where I found this but I fell in love with the picture. Stately Aspen, not grown in these parts, are the best statement of Indian Summer. They Glow! |
It's still warm enough to get a ton of yard work completed before the cold sets in.
Little did I know that three hours would be the max time I could work in the yard.
Black clouds gathered far too soon for me to get everything done but I did manage to clean up most of the gardens.
I'd done a ton of work a few weeks ago so I felt great satisfaction when chilly winds began to penetrate my bones . . . and blow dried leaves in my face.
Minutes after I placed the full bags of refuse in a safe place and closed up the house a torrent of rain pummeled our small abode.
Temparatures dropped as quickly as they rose.
All too soon Indian Summer is over and Fall is sneaking into our environs.
That's OK.
We needed the rain and I'm ready for cool, crisp days.
10:31:: All Hallow-ed Eve
For centuries "Halloween" has been celebrated in conjunction with All Saint's Day the next day.
The eve of All Saint's Day . . . a most 'hallowed' eve . . . is meant to prepare for the remembrance of those souls who are no longer with us on earth.
Gourds were emptied of contents by carving through the back of the gourd.
A scary face is carved into the facade with a candle placed inside.
That way, the long gourd stem could be used as a handle for the 'lantern' that is carried from house to house as neighbors GIVE treats, good tidings and prayers for the deceased as they prepare for the next day when they celebrate the lives of those who died in Christ.
After all, those who died in Christ are saints even if they may not be "Sainted".
It was thought that this one Eve each year, halloween, was the only time the spirits of those who died could visit their loved ones still on earth.
By tradition, on November 1, we celebrate all who died in Christ, the saints. on November 2 many churches celebrate the lives of specific "saints" (those remembered by those in the parish) who died within the previous year . . . all souls . . . on All Souls Day.
So much has changed over the centuries.
Parents still dress the smaller children in precious costumes and follow them around as they TAKE treats from neighbors.
Hubby and I love to see the little ones so excited and filled with awe as they come to our house.
Unfortunately, the true meaning of this fall fete has been overtaken by sinister people who have made it a fearful eve for many.
Will GOOD ever surpass EVIL?
It's our choice.
If we choose to bring God's Light into every corner of darkness, evil will slink away to find another place to do it's dastardly work.
All Hallows Eve should be a grand 'end of October' celebration where neighbors share food and stories of loved ones who are no longer with us.
At least some churches offer a special time of family celebration with goodies for the whole family.
I am looking forward to the next month, when we no longer place so much focus on monsters and things that 'go bump in the dark.'
