Reflections of an early morning

It was the sound of little feet which startled me awake this morning. Not the pitter patter of small children, not Victoria's paws on the wooden floor... but the itty bitty paws of a field mouse in between the walls of our bedroom. I have chills just thinking about it now. I woke my husband and asked if he heard that? He just muttered something about "such things are to be expected when you live in the country" and went back to sleep.

While the clock showed an hour before the alarm would ring, the continuing evidence of a critter in the room took away all need for sleep. I turned the light on as I grabbed the flannel housecoat and a pair of warm socks. Under normal circumstances I would leave the lights off to be polite to he who has no problem sleeping with creatures of field and forest in the house... but this time I wanted to make certain no unwanted visitor had made its' way further into the room.

Victoria met me with a surprised meow and followed me to the dining area where I plugged the tree into the socket... in the dark... which took a little guess work. Making my way to the kitchen, I turned on the coffee pot and went over to talk to the lump under the covers on the family room sofa... suggesting he move into his room if he wanted to sleep another hour.

At first he looked at me as if wondering where he was and who is this person disturbing his sleep. (He arrived home early this morning after studying for finals and collapsed on the sofa... which is his normal habit when he also needs to be awakened early... but not this early.)

I ended up being thankful (kinda') to the little creature who had caused me to awake so early in the morning. The only lights in the house were those of the Christmas tree and the floor lamp bringing light to read over my right shoulder. I finished the last two or three chapters of What the Land Already Knows and felt a kinship to the author as she described life in the country during Advent. She would recognize the sound of itty bitty paws...

Her words brought peace and joy to my heart, reminding me much of my favorite poet-farmer's wife-blogger, Ann. Once again, I thank my Creator for the gift of words and for fellow sojourners with poet's hearts... and skills.

I found myself staring at the lights of the tree, their reflections on cranberry red bulbs and hurricane glass and silver teapots... thinking and pondering as the first light of a new morning could be caught through the lace curtains... a forest of stark tree trunks and branches silhouetted against the sunrise.

Beauty... the human soul needs beauty to live as much as the body requires oxygen. There are seasons of life when beauty surrounds us as if we live in Eden and the world is a blooming garden of wonders.

However, in the winter seasons of our lives... we must at times look for Beauty for that is where we find His voice speaking... gifts from friends who were thinking of us... the early morning lights of the tree... the muted sunrise of another day... warm country houses... soft and lovely kitties... elegant and whimsical Christmas decorations... and yes, sons who arrive safely home in the middle of a winter's night and fall asleep on sofas. :)

Life is good.

Picture: one of the Ducks Unlimited posters; allposters.com

Life happens in spite of plans

Well, I had planned to finish re-reading Don't Waste Your Life and start one of the review books by Sunday. However, the weekend was rather topsy turvey (hehehe, spell check hasn't heard of that one). Saturday was spent getting some much needed house and yardwork accomplished. Sunday afternoon was time to rest and do a few little projects (like rearranging the side of my refrigerator to display gorgeous pictures of the grandchildren).

Christopher had to work Sunday (which happens normally only during football season) and came home planning to return to campus to study. Instead he was quite ill so he did the best he could here at home. This has been a rough autumn for all three of my mold allergy sufferers (and the wet summer wasn't too great, either). My son kept muttering something about moving to Arizona last night... :)

As it turned out, he was able to watch his English assignment on his laptop while I listened in (try reading Piper and listening to a musical blog at the same time...). His English instructor is quite an interesting person, a graduate student in Medieval Literature, who has some fascinating ways of getting students to think. This particular "musical" was a perfect vehicle for discussing "right" and "wrong", "good" and "bad"...

The three of us later discussed the theology behind the books of Job (hubby's favorite) and Jonah (C.'s favorite). While interesting, I had to continue reminding them that my body thought it was an hour later than the clock indicated... could we continue this discussion another day (and a little earlier?).

Of course, chats and such were happening in between sofa time for Mom and fairly severe allergy symptoms for Christopher. Each day continues in spite of health concerns, a zero bank balance, and imperfect people (especially men, hehehe). Okay... they would have something to say about that. :)

Life does take us down unexpected paths but last night I was reminded of the scene near the end of the wonderful movie, Mr. Holland's Opus. At his surprise retirement "party", a large group of former students were assembled to play his unpublished symphony. One of the students looks at him and then at all assembled and says something like, "Mr. Holland, we are your opus, we are the symphony of your life".

That is precisely what is happening to us as we do the best we can to plan life, making goals and writing down expectations... then giving it all to the Lord to work within His will. Our life may appear to be unsettled and bewildering but (prayerfully), He will weave it into a beautiful symphony... even if the world in general looks at us and sees something less than success.

I'm certain they do not understand how the mixture of theological discussions, multiple cups of hot tea, books read and letters written, foreheads soothed as the fever rages, children hugged, teenagers given Truth and Grace, listening to another of Grandfather's stories, complimenting mother's cooking, sitting and pondering as we watch the end of another season... all combine to form music.

Our opus... the continuation of family... never perfect but still beautiful... when written by the Master.

Picture: Raking Leaves; allposters.com

A journey of change...

We finally have an afternoon where the sun is peeking out behind wispy clouds, through the colorful leaves on the trees, and making its' way onto the sofa where I am curled up next to a paisley pillow. The aroma of a MacIntosh candle reminds me I can still enjoy autumn... even if I am only taking a break from laundry and dishes to watch Jacques & Julia on PBS. :)

Being a pondering kind of person, I found it interesting that getting away for awhile was just what I needed to refresh the spirit. I know part of it was spending time with the kids, grandchildren, and our friends (the Clarksons). I expect getting together with a few thousand likeminded (ie: Christian) women helped a lot.

But I think that which helped wake the senses was pulling books off the shelf and eating from the literary bread offered between their pages many evenings. How fortunate we are to live in an age where the experience and wisdom of men and women who have walked with God are available for the cost of a paperback book. (Not to mention the delicious fiction once in awhile.) :)

As I look back at other rather dry seasons of life, I find a few different reasons. First... fatigue has set in from illness, lack of rest and healthy food, or an extended time of trial. Second... I have let the technological things of this world take over my peace... TV, News, Radio, Internet (yikes!), mp3 players, etc. Third (and most likely what has happened now)... the change of seasons in my life.

I have had a child at home since I was twenty-three years old and either informally educating one at home or formally involved in homeschooling. With Christopher beginning University this year, the realization came that the child raising years are behind me. Don't get me wrong, the role of Mom as Counselor, Confessor, and Listener will always continue. But the clay has been formed into two amazing young adults and that season of life is behind me.

The post-homeschooling years are not what I planned. I had not anticipated at this time of life living on a very fixed income and dealing with a chronic illness. Let's face it, becoming a pastry chef as I'd desired would not be walking in wisdom for a Type 1 diabetic. :)

However, we all have such unexpected turns in life. I didn't plan to leave the corporate world in my early 30s, or to have another child later in life, or to become a homeschooling mom in my 40s. Such is life.

Change has never come easy for me. I could have been quite happy if born in another place and another time when the only change to take place was the usual cycles of life and death, springtime and harvest, and the occasional new family moving into the village every decade or two.

So... how am I embracing these changes? Well, I am definitely continuing the reading as I dusted off the amazing little book by John Piper titled Don't Waste Your Life. Yes, I did read this earlier in the year but as I'm going through the book again... everything seems new as I'm looking at it from a different perspective. I'm also reading the book my son-in-law loaned me by Gary Thomas called Seeking the Face of God. Thomas has put together an excellent book which makes it easy to absorb the wisdom of those who walked the path centuries ago.

Not all my reading has been quite so deep. Just before drifting off to sleep recently, I pulled out The Wind in the Willows to read a favorite section which I had discussed with Sarah last week. That part where Rat and Mole visit Mole's home is among the best literature has to offer (whether one is a child or a grandmother). How warm and cozy I felt as I sat with pillows propped behind my head and a quilt keeping me warm, imagining what it would be like listening to field mice singing Christmas carols.

I must now return to the tasks before me as sweaters are very carefully drying in a gentle heat and dishes must be put away behind cabinet doors. Ground beef is waiting to be turned into "something for dinner" while the butter and eggs have come to room temperature to make blond brownies (Stephanie called for the recipe this morning which brought about a craving). All coming together at a slow but steady pace with the usual pattern of work and rest and work and rest.

I must admit the sunshine helps all to be done with a good attitude.

Picture: Blue Stove; allposters.com

Butterflies with diamonds

I wish I had my camera with me. How many times have you said those words to yourself? Yesterday was such a day when hubby and I had to run a couple of errands and we stopped by the walking/bicycling trail on the way home. I would walk twenty minutes and then enjoy the scenery while waiting for him to return to the park bench.

We don't actually walk together, anymore. He is soon out of my sight as I move much slower than my former power walking days. At least I'm moving. While only a few miles from my house at the edge of the forest, the trail is set in the grasslands. In the distance one views lines of trees where forest areas begin but in the immediate line of sight, it is the beauty of the wild grasses, flowers, and maze that I so enjoy... that combination of forests and fields which defines the Midwest.

It didn't take long for the lavender-purple wildflowers to pull my attention from that which was far away. The native plants were growing everywhere along the trail. While beautiful in themselves, it wasn't the flowers that caused me to stop walking and make my way within a foot or two of the rows of color. For each bush of purple flowers was covered by chartreuse butterflies and honey bees.

How nice it would have been to have a child at my side as I could not take my eyes off the butterflies, beauty shared is so much nicer. I had never seen anything like them. As they rested on the purple flowers, their tiny wings would fold flat and one could view the underside... which appeared to be covered with diamonds.

The tiny dots sprinkled across each little wing actually glittered in the sunlight... hundreds of yellow-green butterflies sitting on purple wildflowers and surrounded by an equal number of bees buzzing as they went about their important work... and the wings glittered as if they were ladies all dressed up for a fancy ball.

How like our Creator. He is the original Artist who enjoyed gilding the lily. Each butterfly would easily be appreciated just for the color and He had to add... sparkle.

I have been asked many times how each of my children grew up to make God an important part of their life. Instead I wish the common question would be... how could they not? In our family, He was ever present.

When we would come upon such a scene as butterflies with diamonds sharing the flowers with bees, leaves which lose their green only to show off their colorful undergarments, the way the colors of each season blend together perfectly with all that surrounds them, that our taste buds delight in pumpkin and cinnamon and nutmeg as the air grows colder... no, it was easy to make Him the center of all things.

I thought of His wisdom as many trees and bushes are forming berries on branches to provide food for the bird's winter meals. How lovely it is that the cardinal stays behind each year to give those who are looking shades of red against the white snow.

Was it man who decided red is the perfect color for the occasional barn or was it Someone whispering in the ear of humanity as decisions were being made... and later smiling as we gasp at the beauty of the red against the snow in January as the shades of black and gray in each tree offered their own architecture. I suppose all artists and builders inherently learn from the Artist.

For some of us, we could no more leave God out of the equation as we could stop breathing and exist. Especially when I find diamonds on the back of butterflies... and, no... I never did get back to my exercise.

Picture: End of Harvest; allposters.com

Trials and Heavenly hope

I'm working on a pantry post but a conversation and a song reminded me of past ponderings about Heaven and Jesus and all things eternal. I was talking to a sweet friend that I met through this blog (blogdom is a wonderful way to meet likeminded people) yesterday and the conversation came around to what Heaven will be like. I'd been thinking a lot about kitties and Heaven this past week.

Then last night I tuned into Ravi Zacharias' program where one of his associates was talking about philosophical stuff. I was rather tired and what would normally be interesting was going over my head until he mentioned C. S. Lewis... of course I listened more closely then.

He talked about Lewis' book called The Great Divorce and the description of the scenery as they were getting closer to Heaven. Everything became brighter and more clear, the grass looked thicker, it was as if this earth was ethereal and Heaven was what is real (of course, Lewis is famous for saying this life is nothing but the Shadowlands).

My ponderings during the time we lived by the pond took me back to the reality of who Jesus is and what I expect from Him. I knew how John the Baptist felt when he was in the jail cell awaiting death and sending out a message to Jesus... basically, are you who I thought you were? This is not what I planned. If you are the Messiah, I wouldn't be in this bleak cell.

During this time, I had an epiphany (I love epiphanies) that Heaven must be an amazing place if Jesus was willing to enter Time and Space to become the perfect sacrifice needed for the sin of Eden. What is it about us that stopped Him from just obliterating humanity and starting all over again?

At the time, I thought of what Lewis said about Jesus... basically He either was God or He was a nut case running around saying He was God. If He truly was sent from the Father to pay the price of sin and take back the Keys to the Kingdom... why? There must be some kind of amazing future ahead of us that is only known by the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit... to make the Father send... the Son sacrifice... the Holy Spirit come to earth as Comforter and Teacher.

If He was just a raving lunatic who thought He was God, then how did the Church survive 2,000 years? Certainly not because church people are the nicest or most holy. In spite of humankind, His church survived, flourished, and changed the world. Would a lunatic cause us to change our calendar to B.C. and A.D.?

I had to come to a place during the days I didn't want to keep going that He has a plan and my place in that plan is not about my being comfortable or even happy. If He was willing to leave Paradise and walk the desert sands of Nazareth... how could I complain about my circumstances? One tends to ponder in the fires of affliction more than any other season of life.

All of this was on my mind as I drove down country roads and through lush "end of season" green forests while listening to K-love on the radio. One of my favorite songs by Mercy Me started to play (Jesus Bring the Rain), which I thought appropriate as the wind shield wipers were working overtime to clear rain so I could see where I was driving. What appropriate words at just the right time. It is somewhere on my Play List but here are the words...

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that
I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You

Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times
So I pray

Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings
You glory
And I know there'll
be days When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to
praise You Jesus, bring the rain

I am yours regardless of the clouds that may
loom above because you are much greater than
my pain... you who made a way for me suffering
your destiny so tell me whats a little rain

Remembering the days by the pond

I told my husband recently that I had to hold up my hand and say STOP to how hectic my life had suddenly become. Somehow we had scheduled multiple doctor's appointments, the trip to the V.A. hospital, a few food pantries (having spent most of our cash on repairs), taking the car in for new tires and then yesterday to have a belt replaced, and necessary errands all in the same week.

Then the added stress of Sasha's sudden illness and the decision to have her put to sleep on top of an already busy schedule... and a personal crisis going on in Christopher's life which kept me up into the wee hours of Saturday morning... AAAACK!

I finally lit a candle and stretched out on the sofa (Sasha-less) with a cold glass of water. I was too tired to brew tea. I shut my eyes and listened to the sound of crickets outside the window, which brought remembrances of my year by the pond with nostalgia, forgetting the hard times... remembering the peace.

We rented the house by the pond when we were going through a difficult time, one of the "years with no income", and one of those time periods I have written about when life was so difficult I had to remind myself to breath. I knew why poets wrote about hearts breaking from sadness.

The front steps to the house were only fifteen or twenty yards from the pond. I spent hours upon hours sitting on those cement stairs with my Bible open, a mug of coffee or cup of tea at my side... taking pen to paper as I pondered and prayed.

I would often pack an inexpensive picnic and take Christopher to nearby Lake Michigan where we would place an old quilt on the sand and watch the boats sailing nearby and great vessels in the far distance on their way to Chicago, wondering what important cargo they carried and what port they originated from. We would often enjoy a sandwich and perhaps an apple or freshly baked cookies and then walked the various trails in the forest that hugged the Lake.

Days and days and days of nothing but quiet and nature... nature and quiet. Well, kind of... for anyone who has gone to sleep on a summer night with the window open to catch a welcome breeze also knows the sound of rowdy neighbors... the hundreds of crickets and frogs singing their evening serenade. Their song continued on this autumn evening in another place and another time... but the song brought the memories as songs often do.

I find it interesting that the year by the pond was in many ways the most difficult year of my life. It was the year it all changed. But it was also the year of the fire of affliction... along with the hours watching the life in and around the pond with my Bible on my knees... holding on to the Rock of my salvation. This was the year of pain and loss but also the time of great miracles.

I can look back and know this to shall pass. The days of multiple appointments are now behind me. This isn't Heaven, yet. Like Abraham in the book of Hebrews, I search for a City whose architect and builder is God.

In the meantime, I may visit the pond in the park where my mother and I would take days old bread to feed the ducks... as I did with my own children so many years later. Perhaps I'll pack a sandwich and my Bible... and rest.

Picture: Ducks Unlimited, As Good As Home; allposters.com

Ponderings on critical thinking and talk

A very happy belated birthday greeting to my friend Sally Clarkson (aka: My Favorite Writer). She tells her birth story in today's post... here. But you can't read it until you read my post. Aren't I selfish? Okay, if you must go on over and read it. I understand what a miracle her being here today is since my first child was a preemie and he lived only a half an hour or so.

I found her post especially interesting as I'd already been pondering how our life is affected by our parents and the way we are raised. A (former) friend of my husband's sister had called to update on what she was doing.

She was telling me all the horrible things my husband's sister said about me, including giving a rundown on how I was so evil to her when she was nine years old and I treated her badly when we went to the fair together and that is why she hates me. I didn't meet her until she was in college so that tells you the state of her mind. :)

My in-laws fueled hatred toward me because they were critical of me and most of the people around them. Their parents were both critical of them. My husband struggles with a critical attitude.

I thought of my sister Bonnie's husband. They could have been quite wealthy today but he was a very vain and arrogant person who ended up losing everything and going to jail in his 40s due to white collar crime. They now live in a tiny apartment surrounded by the few beautiful antiques they did not sell. He was lewd, unfaithful to his wife when younger, and quite unscrupulous... just like his father had been.

He was also a person who criticized me through the years and spread untrue rumors. A year or two ago, he took my hand and with tears falling down his face... asked me to forgive him. Of course, the answer was yes and not at all hard because he had been made a "new creature in Christ". This man astounds everyone by his warmth and love now (although after living a life such as his, he still has rather crude humor... some things don't change quickly). :)

I find it interesting but not at all surprising that the person I find it so easy to love today is the sinner saved by grace and not the woman with the Christian label who never missed church. For the people who have shocked me with vicious talk and gossip were church people.

Perhaps it is just that I expect more from people who wear the banner of the Lord on their shoulders but it still amazes me at the hostility that can come from people of "faith" at times. Some have been downright mean people.

From one who has been a Presbyterian, a Wesleyan, and a Charismatic... I can tell you it came from all sides. I mean, really, given those three as a background I can argue theology with myself! But most of the time the hostility wasn't from a difference of theology but because our choices in life are beyond their understanding so we have to be bad (or even evil) people.

The worst vicious verbal attacks came from people in the church who did not understand our decision to homeschool our son. Or... something so little as not letting our daughter take part in an experimental "anti-drug" class when she was in elementary school because the program was based on Eastern Religions.

All this to say... in this life we will have adversity and some of it will come from the general direction of the Church. What do we do? Well, I was told by a wise person long ago to first see if there is any seed of Truth in their criticism. If there is, take it and throw away what else they say. If there is not, throw away what they say and do your best not to hold it against them.

Some have since asked forgiveness and others I never saw again. That's okay because I must "let it go" regardless. The Book says we are to forgive those who speak against us... to carry their cloak an extra mile if asked. That is not easy to do but we must release hard feelings against others if we are to walk in freedom and not let their words affect us adversely.

I think of the Poet King who spent years and years and years having people not only say dreadful things about him but coming after him to kill him. We have his thoughts and experiences in the Psalms. I haven't had to deal with that so it can't be all that bad. :)

I also must watch my own tongue. Just yesterday I found myself telling my husband how he should talk to someone speaking against the way he was handling this situation with his sister. Then I thought of the Beatitude... blessed are the peacemakers. Umm... I repented. Sigh... no wonder I cannot hold the words of another against them.

Back to pantry ponderings tomorrow... enjoy Sally's blog (link above or on my sidebar).

Picture: Swiped (borrowed?) from my sweet Busy Bee... somewhere close to Corpus Christi, Texas

Hope for the real future

Sigh... I have lots of book talk going through my mind but the day must be spent working on the garage again. It was amazing to me how a couple morning errands and then spending time in a doctor's waiting room in the afternoon made for a Tuesday which flew by!

I knew the stress test would take awhile so I took a book with me I had found at the tiny used book room in our local library. It is called Searching For Mrs. Oswald Chambers by Martha Christian. I was there so long the first page of the book was started... and the last. Since My Utmost For His Highest is one of two devotional books I have in my quiet time basket (the other being The Valley of Vision), I enjoyed learning more about the woman who actually assembled the book.

The story is told in the telephone conversations and letters between the author and the Chambers' only child (who was then in her 80s). Anyone who loves the work of Oswald Chambers would enjoy the book but it would also be good to give to one who is experiencing any kind of suffering. I'm so glad I had to wait on Christopher for another hour that day and spent the time perusing inexpensive books. :)

I received an e-mail from the husband of a blog reader who had passed away. Her name is Kathy and she wrote the Australian blog called Ambling Along. We make so many friends through blogs, perhaps because we truly do "read to know we are not alone".

I sent him, not scripture... but the following scene from C. S. Lewis' The Last Battle. I love this section of the book as Aslan has told the children they died in a train crash and they were now no longer in the Shadowlands but in real Narnia. Among the best description of Heaven literature offers...

It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this. You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass.

And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, all over again, in the looking glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time there were somehow different -- deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know.

The difference between the old Narnia and the new Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can't describe it any better than that: if ever you get there you will know what I mean.

It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground and neighed, and then he cried: "I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that is sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!"

"The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning."

And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after.

But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at least they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."

Picture: Grandma's Garden by Robert Duncan; allposters.com

A Grace filled life

I've been thinking a lot about a grace filled life these past few days. The thought kept popping into that part of the brain that likes to ponder about life and stuff. Most of the time it is a God thing. Sometimes it's just me, especially when the thinking is all about sugar cream pie.

Actually, it all started after reading a post on Sally's blog. This link will take you to her post but don't go there now are you will miss my ponderings... be they ever so humble. :)

Life has its' trials and tribulations but I'm convinced we are not to struggle with our days. We are to have joy and peace in the midst of each days, our journey He gives us (I firmly believe) will never be more than we can handle... although I've questioned this a few times when passing through a storm.

A grace filled life is also one which fully utilizes the best this world has to offer and surrounds oneself with that which brings joy, to themselves and their family. Not in such a way to add discontent or tension in an already difficult situation but taking full advantage of our God given ability to create beauty around us.

If God is nothing else (besides being Holy and Love), He is creative. We are made within that image and a grace filled life must have within it things created... our own, from nature, the works of others... that which goes beyond being utilitarian but adds Beauty our heart desires.

What do I do to make every attempt to live a grace filled life... even as dark storm clouds of trials whirl around me?

First... I read the Bible. Only the Bible explains life. As much as I love devotional books and those by gifted teachers, only by going straight back to the Source do I get full Truth. Why should I be surprised by trials when I am told "in this world there will be trouble"? Yet, I am also told Jesus gives peace but not like the World gives it. His peace is possible when in the storm.

Second... I do read books by those gifted in bringing the Word to life and making it even more understandable. I also read general nonfiction which teach and inspire as well as fiction that takes me away to another world. Imagination is God's gift to make up for our finite existence. I have certain titles I read over and over which bring their own grace to my life, most by favorite authors and some of them even childhood favorites.

There are also beautiful books I peruse when I need to be cheered... favorite cookbooks, books with beautiful gardens, a small collection of Victoria books (and the few old Victoria magazines I have as well as the new), and titles containing work by favorite artists or illustrators.

Third... I surround myself with beauty that I can afford. After over thirty years of marriage, I probably developed an affinity for English Country design because of many years of collecting as well as inheriting items from parents. I (try) to keep a balance between the decorating I like and having two men live with me. Quite often in the early morning when the sun is filtered through lace curtains and bringing with it a soft light in this room... I sense His presence just as much as when I'm reading the Gospels.

Of course, Beauty also comes through getting close to nature (okay, so I hug a few trees now and then). With all the rain we've had this year, the forest reminds me a bit of a jungle but it is so beautiful and peaceful. I'm enjoying my garden even if it daily reminds me of Eden's fall as the wet weather has blessed the weeds and not my flowers.

I used to enjoy sitting near Lake Michigan with my feet in the sand... just far enough away from the incoming waves so my toes would get wet but not my clothing. Peace has also come by walking through the park in town and sitting on my deck, surrounded by trees and flowers.

Fourth... I filter what I bring in through my other senses. We are all different in that respect. For instance, I not only love British film and comedy but vintage science fiction and modern day mystery. John Denver makes my heart sing but others cringe... just as Christopher's favorite radio station makes me wonder at his taste in music (although we also similar styles, too). I now rarely (very rarely) sit down and listen to news being discussed on the 24/7 channels.

Fifth... a grace filled life has to be filled with forgiveness. Forgiving ourselves and others while we strive to be more Christ like. A couple of years ago, my son told me growing up in this house certainly taught him all about forgiveness... as only those of us who are imperfect and live with less than perfect people can know.

We not only must forgive others but ourselves. I still have memories pop into my mind once in awhile of things I either said or did long ago that I later regretted. I've learned to ask myself if I've asked God's forgiveness, knowing I have... and then I remind myself if He has put it behind Him, then I can do the same. Holding on to our own failures is just as toxic to a grace filled life as continuing to hold another person's sin against us by not forgiving.

Forgiving ourselves or others does not mean we did or said and what another did was not right. Forgiveness just means we "let it go". I have to "let it go" each and every day with those I live with.... and a cat who persists in hairballs on the sofa.

I must admit I find a grace filled life much easier with furry friends surrounding me. As I write, the elderly kitty is breathing softly beside me. My idea of Heaven is an English cottage surrounded by a weed free (perfect) garden and my furry best friends surrounding me... as well as additional friends with fur. Except Bigfoot.

Our circumstances change so much from childhood to old age. At this time in my life, I tend to be at home a lot and my social life is not what it used to be (given challenges with fatigue I choose more alone time). We all will have different seasons throughout our life... changes that come with our own age and that of our children, when we move, job changes with our spouse or our own... the decision to start or stop working outside the home, health and money challenges, etc.

The Bible tells us there will be Trouble but we also have promises of Grace, and Peace, and Forgiveness, Love... and Joy. Joy is a result of walking the path He has for us and trusting that He is in control... no matter what the trouble.

I will probably not be back until Monday as more family arrives this evening. :)

Picture: The forest as of last week

Thoughts from my morning quiet time

I have another Pantry Talk in the works but it is still too... jumbly... to post. Sometimes my fingers type faster than my brain thinks, which leaves me wondering... huh? :)

Gosh it was hard to get out of bed this morning with very cold weather and corresponding sinus pressure. Staying in bed was not an option as Christopher had to drop his dad and I off at our mechanic's place to pick up the old car (which was quite easily fixed). I knew I'd better have a quiet time if I was going to make it through the day.

So... I turned on the light beside the living room sofa and then took advantage of the feature on the coffee pot which lets me take the carafe out before it is done brewing... that is how much I needed the caffeine this morning. My Pooh mug couldn't wait any longer for the coffee to meet the Splenda and cream. Okay, so my mug could wait but I couldn't.

I curled up with the one light making it possible to read Holy Habits, sipping hot coffee, and pondering. I'm not certain why but I remembered a cute quote I'd read at one time... "If God had a refrigerator He would put your picture on it.". I love that as the side of my refrigerator is where important documents end up... pictures, appointment cards, receipts we need to keep handy such as after the purchase of textbooks each semester... those items that under different circumstances would not be considered valuable achieve a place of importance on the refrigerator.

While reading, I looked closely at the bookmark I use in my "quiet time" books (those books I read mainly during morning quiet time along with my Bible). To anyone else but me it wouldn't have any value at all. It is a simple, red piece of construction paper with the word "Mom" written out in such a way that only I know what it means. A preschool teacher had laminated the paper and punched it at the top, wrapping a ribbon around the empty space to make a bookmark for Mother's Day one year. It truly is a piece of artwork only a mother could love, made by the hands of a small boy.

That started me pondering about how we have value because God loves us. I'm certain in the world at large, I have no value whatsoever. However, there are certain people in the universe who value me... a handful to whom I am a valuable member of the family. Especially to men who do not know how to cook. :)

But in the Light of Eternity, I'm not so different as that preschool bookmark would be to another person. The difference? The one who created the Universe loves me and that brings infinite value... to those of us who are the least, the little, the last, and the lost. It is nothing we do but everything that He has done...

and... it makes me smile to think He has my picture on His frig. :)

Yes, it was a very good quiet time, indeed.

Back tomorrow (hopefully) with a pantry post that has been, um... edited.

Old desires and new lessons

The picture above hangs in my tiny "Victorian" bathroom. It is a Mary Engelbreit "poster" (cut from her magazine) with the words "It Is Never Too Late to Be What You Might Have Been". I remember cutting out the poster a couple years ago, very soon after reading the magazine (and finding an extra frame I had "put back" to frame it) so I could look at the words every day.

When my husband and I were first married, it was the 1970s and the "back to the land" movement was just beginning... brought about by an economic crisis meeting an energy crisis (hmmm... sound familiar?). He had just returned from Viet Nam and finished his Bachelor's degree when we met and was working on his Master's by the time we married.

We thought we would end up living in North Carolina, him working in a furniture company and me staying at home raising a garden and children, perhaps playing a dulcimer and weaving my own fabric (really, honest). What is that old saying... if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans?

He did go to work for a furniture company but we ended up living near Lake Michigan (can we say tons of snow each year?) and I had to go to work full time for awhile. However, because of my earlier plans... I always understood those who wanted to save the planet, go organic, etc. I didn't know lots of other Conservatives felt the same until I read Crunchy Con.

I truly believe one of the lies the enemy of our souls tells us is that it is "too late" to become anything other than what we are. It doesn't matter if we are twenty and we're told it is too late to take ballet lessons or learn a musical instrument... or if we're ninety and we're told it is too late to learn anything!

I've decided I'm going to take the advice on the poster to heart. This is the year to attempt fresh projects and learn new skills I've wanted to know for a very long time. Yes, I will get quite fatigued at times as (barring a miracle) I will have to forge through the exhaustion caused by a chronic illness. Finances are always an issue but if a skill is a God given desire... He provides.

So... since this is the week I plan to do some serious study and pondering... I will add to the many lists being made those things I would like to learn more about. I will stop the unhealthy thoughts that enter my brain, those which tell me it is too late for... anything.

Well, perhaps it is too late to learn gymnastics. :)

Photo: Mary Engelbreit's "It's Never Too Late": available at prints.com

Home as a sanctuary

I've written about this before but the thought of "home as sanctuary" came back to me yesterday evening when I was waiting for the guys to arrive home amidst a freezing drizzle.

The call came about an hour before hubby had to pick up Christopher from work... my insulin was available.

He left early to drive to the clinic and then back to campus to pick Christopher up from work at the bookstore. I stayed home and prayed for their safety. :)

By the time they arrived home, the lights on the porch had been turned on and the ancient Le Creuset' dutch oven was simmering on the stove... their favorite Midwestern Boiled Dinner. I wanted the sights and aromas to say "come in out of the storm".

Well, it was not really a storm but driving conditions were not so good and country roads in the dark can be "iffy" at best.

I have long thought of the home as sanctuary. When I was growing up, after my father died, I had no sanctuary. Once I married, a couple of weeks after turning twenty, providing a real home was of utmost importance. Even though we moved quite often to follow my husband's career and there was no permanent dwelling, the objects... sights... sounds... aromas... were consistently "home".

I have noticed my husband spending more time this past year in our living room where he likes to read on the sofa. I'm not surprised. Even though the Early American-English Country look may not be his favorite, the colors are all earth tone and soothing. It is a small room filled with books... very cozy. He can relax in this environment.

There is a storm brewing in the world today, it is already affecting many people. For others, they can see the storm clouds in the distance and feel the wind picking up as they stand... looking toward the horizon and waiting. Where I live in the Midwest, there is a phrase used during parts of the year... "it feels like tornado weather". One can sense the approaching storm, long before the sky turns green and the fierce winds arrive.

I have already spent the past couple of days organizing and decluttering... yet again. But last night, as I was thinking of storms and sanctuary, I decided to work at making my home a complete sanctuary for the three of us and one elderly kitty (and anyone else entering our home).

Of course, I will continue decluttering as my husband and I tackle the garage today. If no one hears from us by nightfall... send out the St. Bernard carrying a flask of hot coffee with cream & Splenda.

I also plan to write out more ways I can make our home a sanctuary... deepening the pantry when possible, fixing things that are broken and other needed household maintenance, organizing my recipes... in particular those that are inexpensive, planning special days of celebration for no particular reason... and most of all... letting the peace of God permeate me and the house.

It all gets down to what He whispered in my ear when we were living in Detroit... Live Life On Purpose. Think... ponder... write down... don't let life just pass you by because it goes so quickly. So, my goals this year all fall under the label of "Sanctuary". Just how to accomplish this will be the subject of much pondering.

Added: I thought I should add that I can never expect perfect sanctuary in my home. I live with a teenager who can become quite cranky and moody, a husband who is on Disability for Bipolar symptoms (brought about by severe environmental allergies throughout his life), a cat who seems to cough up more hair balls as she grows older... and I have to live with myself. Sigh... only in Heaven will we find perfection.

Picture: Nostalgia-Mini by Clement Micarelli; allposters.com

A new year

I love January 1st... I can honestly say I haven't gained too much weight this year, or swiped too many bites of chocolate, or had too much caffeine... no, I've been a good girl this year. All um... 16+ hours of it already.

I don't make New Year's resolutions because I don't keep New Year's resolutions. They tend to have been forgotten by the end of January. I do, however, spend a few days at the beginning of the year in the Word, in prayer... pondering, asking, questioning, listening for wisdom... my annual mid-course correction time.

For by the end of the fourth season, I often find myself off course and in desperate need of Guidance. While I enjoyed the Christmas season very much, I could oh so tell I was wavering... tossing to and fro in life's ocean. There was the presence of tension in the background of my life, an unsettled soul... and the reason escaped me.

It's not just me. I was taking the ornaments from the Christmas tree today (the last post-Christmas project as I loved the way the tree looked this year) and chatting with Christopher at the same time. I reminded him he must not continue to let everything come in the way of spending time in the Word and asking for guidance. For this is the time of life he is making the "big" decisions, those that affect... everything.

I felt a bit hypocritical as I have done the same thing, let the non-essentials of life crowd out that which should be the most important. I plan to spend time over the next week writing out quick notes and then permanently placing them in my scrapbook journal. Hopefully, finding ways to make those course corrections.

I have a feeling 2009 is going to be a year in which we all need to have our lives fully anchored. There are areas in need of correcting. So far all I know is that I want to return to a regular reading program. Eating more fresh fruit and veggies is a no brainer. I must remember to... hope.

I'm planning on getting away at a coffee shop in the morning (thus, the picture above... although quite a different climate as that shown). I'll put pen to paper and scribble ideas as they come, scribbles which only I can read. I (God willing) will find some guidance while sipping coffee and nibbling a scone... coffee and quiet times are quite the combination which often bring Wisdom.

Picture: Morning Glory Coffee Shop: allposters.com

Empathy at Christmas

I awoke this morning to subzero wind chills and a second day of a swollen throat and fever. Hopefully three meals of orange juice will help the latter, only Spring will bring back the warmth outside. There are e-mails to return eventually but today I must finish everything that needs to be accomplished before my visitors arrive on Saturday.

I had my weekly appointment with my doctor's nurse a couple days ago. One has to wait awhile at the County Medical Clinic, even when they have an appointment. Although I usually take a book with me, I always end up people watching for such places are fascinating. Their faces... the delight of the very young... the wrinkled faces of despair and hopelessness of the old.

This week most of those waiting with me were young Hispanic mothers. It isn't always so. There have been farmers in their tractor company hats, unemployed construction workers, young men and old women, and mothers of small babies who look as if they are barely out of childhood themselves. A variety of fellow sojourners in life traveling down a path most of us did not anticipate.

For some reason, my thoughts flashed back a little over twenty years to an afternoon corporate board meeting. I was dressed in my wool navy "power suit", meeting with the President and Vice Presidents of the company in long range planning exercises. I was about Stephanie's age at the time, working with my boss in Organization Development. It doesn't seem all that long ago, yet, at the same time... I look back at that young woman and can no longer relate. Who was she? It couldn't possibly be me for she is young, healthy, smart, so assured of herself and the world.

As my thoughts came back to the reality of today, I remembered what Beth Moore had taught just that morning. Nothing happens to us without going through God's "yes". It takes a broken heart to empathize with one who cries the same tears. Is that God's gift to me? Mercy so I can reach out to the hurting with mercy? My eyes fill with tears at the site of sadness all around me in this Season of Joy.

In the days and months ahead, how many other people will find themselves uninsured and sitting in such a clinic? Their suits gathering dust in the closet, their heels replaced by old and comfortable shoes. How many fathers will send out hundreds of resumes, hoping for just one open door. How many mothers will pray at the side of a sick child, hoping they do not need medicine they can't afford.

I can stop by Starbucks on the way home, a gift from one who appreciates Pumpkin Spice Lattes like I do. I have a couple of dollars in my pocket, ready to find a diamond in the rough at the Mission thrift shop near the doctor's office. I go home with my dollar treasures.

Most of my "Christmas" work is behind me now. The package has been sent to New England, treasures purchased throughout the year... always with Christmas in mind. The excitement of finding "just the right gift" at a price I can afford, placed in the box where such treasures are kept until time to wrap them and send them on their way.

I will make the puppy chow today, completing the gift baskets for my husband's two siblings. We cut back completely on Holiday baking this year, except for what I made for them and what I'll bake for Christmas dinner. Good for my budget, my waistline, and keeping my blood sugar numbers down. :)

I thank God for this path. Not what I wanted or what I had asked for but indeed a gift from Him. To be able to catch the eye of another at the clinic and give them a knowing look... I understand. I feel your pain and your frustrations.

But there is One Who gives hope to the hopeless. That's what all this glitz and glitter is all about. The Baby of Christmas who grew up to be the Saviour of the world. The true Gift this Season offers. Peace. Hope. Love.

I cannot put money in the bucket as the bell is ringing outside of the store. But I can lead you to the One who offers you water so you thirst no more. Dust off the Bible on the shelf. Read the Gospels. He is real.

Picture: Seasons of Peace; allposters.com

Need some down time and SOON

Sigh, I love to be at home in cold and snowy weather. I like to slowly sip my morning coffee while having a lingering quiet time, check out Fox Business, set the breakfast dishes to soak, and think about what I need to do for the day's meals and any baking that is to be started. Instead, the past few days have found me running errands and going to appointments.

Thankfully I didn't have far to go on the days the roads were icy. Christopher had another car run into him while waiting at a light yesterday. He was in the Buick so the only harm to him was hitting his head on the steering wheel and the car has only minor damage. The other guy's car was smashed and for some reason, he was arrested. Christopher handled it so well, the only reminder I had to give him when he called was that all the info he needed for the police was in an envelope in the glove compartment.

I remember when Stephanie had her first accident. Although she had no cell phone, she did call to let me know about it. I figured if they are the people doing the calling... all is well.

We're having to "duck walk" down the gravel lane to get our newspaper and the mail. Gravel has a way of gripping onto frozen surfaces and let's just say there have been times we've had weeks of duck walking. :)

While I don't like driving or walking on ice, I'm quite fond of cold weather. I love to throw a blanket around me when I get a chance to stop and read or watch a DVD (or just sit and ponder), it is like being in my own little cocoon all warm and cozy. I know I was meant to hibernate.

The house is all decorated. I'll chat more about that later. Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment but I'm hoping tomorrow afternoon to start making some Christmas goodies that I'm giving as gifts this year. I'll share more about that soon, too.

As for now, I need to wash the dishes that are soaking (for their seems to always be dishes either in the process of cooking, soaking, or drying). Then I believe a mug of sugar free Swiss Miss sounds like a very good idea.

Picture: The Sledding Party by Robert Duncan; Allposters.com

More thoughts about attitude

I wanted to call this post "What I've learned about a good attitude in the midst of stomping my feet, complaining to God, and waiting impatiently for something good to happen". But I thought it would take too long to read the title, you wouldn't stick around... so I kept it simple. As it is, my daughter tells me I am a quite wordy writer.

I mentioned in yesterday's post about the differences in the tiny houses I was walking by... while the car sat at the corner with the flat tire. One can sense the difference in attitude of each dweller by the look of the house. Those who wanted to "bloom where they are planted" and are thankful for what they have are the dwellers of the cute little well painted houses with lace curtains and well kept little lawns.

Perhaps one of the lessons I learned the most from Edith Schaeffer was that one should not neglect where they now live, even if their heart desires a different location. I thought of that teaching quite often when we rented the townhouse, the place we lived before buying this house. I don't remember ever crying when I moved in a place, until that townhouse experience.

For my surroundings were dirty, most of my neighbors scary (except the couple who lived next to us, whom we came to adore), a huge industrial trash container sat next to each door, a cement parking lot was the view from the front, and since the townhouse went "up" instead of "out"... there was no place we could easily have people over.

Sigh, I thought of Edith a lot at that time and turned my kitchen (which was surprisingly roomy) into a warm and cozy place to cook, and my bedroom was transformed (at no cost) into a very lovely place of respite even if I could hear drunk neighbors... not to mention the drug dealing teenagers. We set up the computer and the TV in the basement area with the old sofa and Lazy Boy so Christopher was happy. We gave away our formal living room set to a favorite young family.

There were times I remembered my lovely large home in the beautiful neighborhood and missed it very much. I often wondered if I'd ever have my own place again. However, Edith had taught me long ago to make where I am pretty so I often used the good dishes and had flowers on the table. (We turned what the others used as the living room level into a dining room to be able to use that furniture.)

It's truly all about attitude at times. My husband used to complain that he couldn't do much (due to his illness) and would get quite cranky. I often reminded him that the one thing he CAN take to the Lord is a good attitude. It took awhile but he began to understand what I was saying.

It's truly not a Pollyanna way of looking at things for that would verge on possibility thinking or some other soulish attempt at looking at life. Not that such a way of thinking is all bad but without a foundation for our good attitude, it would become a vain attempt at glossing over the bad things that happen to everyone.

Instead, when the foundation is Christ in our lives... there is a lot to be thankful for. If nothing else, I know this world is not my final destination and there is a lovely Home awaiting on the other side even if my present dweling is less than perfect. Life can be hard and we get weary of well doing if we aren't gaining strength for the day from the One Who Made Us. Every reason for a good attitude, even if we must put it on by faith.

So... how did we happen to arrive at our cute and cozy home in the country? That story is found under the Coffee Tea Books and Tea Favorites, called "Laying My Isaac Down". But I'll make it easy for you... just click here. :)

A few thoughts about attitude

Early this morning, we were on the way to an appointment at my niece's beauty salon for my hubby to get his shabby hair cut. As I told Stephanie, he was beginning to look like one of the Beatles... a very old one at that. :)

As we were driving on the By Pass, I heard a strange sound and then a thump... thump... thump. The tire that was recently patched had blown. Thankfully, I safely made my way quickly through traffic and I was able to pull off on a side street. How that happened was, in itself, a miracle!

While we had a spare tire, we had no tire jack as hubby had not been able to get to a junk yard to find one to replace the original that had broken. (Old Faithful is THAT old!) Did I mention the wind chill was about eleven degrees and that our other car is still at the transmission shop? Sigh...

I called my sister who called my niece to let her know what had happened. I called Christopher to inform him of of our situation and then my daughter, who was getting ready for her Tuesday Women's Bible Study... just for her to pray and tell me everything would be alright. She's good at that.

To make a very long story short, we were rescued by our pastor and one of the very nice men from our church. We go to a very good church. My health (or lack of it at times) keeps me from being as active as I'd like to be, far from what it was like with other churches I attended where I was there numerous times a week. Not to mention being on paid staff of two churches and a volunteer staff member of the Presbyterian church where I was married.

Thankfully, they know our limitations and they have been willing to help us through so many times of adversity through the years. Good people.

Because our pastor and and our other guardian angel showed up and helped us (as if neither of them were not already busy!), we were able to get my husband his much needed haircut (my niece made room for him even though he was late) and finish a couple of other important errands before arriving back to the warmth of home. Christopher had the car in plenty of time to drive to his afternoon classes.

All this to say... sometimes it seems like God is just watching to see how I'm going to react to something. I felt it this time, especially as I was cold and shivering and frustrated at the car situation.

I took a little walk to warm up and found myself looking at the tiny houses in this part of town. Some were very shabby and run down while others had been painted and were quite charming.

How different was the look of the pretty houses as opposed to those with chipped paint, broken toys in the yard, and the general feeling of neglect. I'm certain they had the same floor plan with limited space inside and out. What was the difference in them? Most likely the attitude of the people that lived inside.

I'm learning to keep the right attitude. When I called Christopher to let him know we were rescued, I asked him to take the "bowl with the plate on top of it and a jar of jelly on the plate" out of the refrigerator and put it on the kitchen counter for me.

When I arrived home, I rolled out the dough that was inside. I'd made it in the bread machine the night before and let it rise in the frig overnight. It was transformed into one pan of cinnamon rolls and another of pecan rolls (thankfully, I had purchased chopped pecans while I still had the funds to stock the freezer). They have been rising while I have been typing away and I just popped them in the oven.

Choosing attitudes... instead of getting cranky and crabby... I choose to bake, or make a stew, or declutter the house. I choose to create rather than tear down, to give instead of destroy, to thank God for what I have instead of complaining about what I don't.

I'll share a little more later but for now... warm cinnamon rolls and hot coffee await.

Picture: Home Sweet Home; allpictures.com

Staying the course...

Flowers in my kitchen last summer

I live near a rather large University. Hubby has both a B. S. and an M.S. degree from it, daughter has a B. A., the world's best son-in-law received his M.S. and Ph.D. (and my daughter) all from said University. I started my Bachelor's Degree in Management (planning to specialize in Economics) at that same University. All that to say... I know the difference between undergrad and graduate level classes.

God has had me in the graduate school of trust and faith again lately. That's the area He takes us when we've passed those minor tests, at least the majority of them. You know when you're in grad school when God allows all kinds of trials all at once and then looks at you to see how you are going to act in a hurricane force storm. Been there before...

Case in point... last night the phone rang just after Christopher left for his 4:00 class. He said the steering on the car wasn't working right. He called later after his 8:00 class was over and said not only was the steering not working right but it took trying to start the car a few times to get it to finally start. This is the only working car. (We drove the other car to the transmission place today to get an official estimate.)

This morning we drive in a cold rain to take Christopher to his morning class and waited for him at the campus library. I pulled out the David Wilkerson sermon newsletters I've been keeping in my Bible and underlined some of the scripture he had recommended for these troubling times. I've read and re-read his recent sermons a number of times and I still draw peace from them.

We dropped Christopher off at work, picked up the other car and drove it to the transmission place, and then stopped by my husband's favorite "place that sells stuff for cars". He was inside for only a few minutes, asked me to pop the hood of the old car, and poured in some tranny fluid. Sigh... if only all my challenges could be solved so easily.

It wasn't until I arrived home and marveled at the difference a little fluid can do to a car that I realized I wasn't as tense as I had been. Peace had taken the place of fear and fretting. Except for my power steering working better, nothing had changed so what was it?

I knew... the Oil for my lamp had been at work in my soul. Just as the fluids poured into the power steering had made it easier to steer the car, so the Word which I had absorbed while sitting in the library had made its way from my spirit to my heart and my mind. Where there had been fear, there was now faith. Where doubt had lingered, hope appeared. His very presence brought peace, even though the situation had not changed much.

There's something else that differentiates graduate students from the undergrads... at the graduate level the students are often also teachers. They teach what they have learned in the lessons they have gone through already.

That is where I want to be... sharing what I've learned along the way while staying the course He has set before me. Graduate school is hard work but then again, so is Freshman Engineering. Wherever we are in life, the challenges aren't always fun but they are necessary to become the person HE wants us to be.

Christopher was talking about one of his professors on the way to his class this morning. This guy has been a proverbial pain in the exterior anatomy but never has he had a teacher that has inspired him and taught him as much as this man (although he hated to admit it).

Yeah, I know... no disrespect to He Who Created the Universe but I've felt that way about you Lord. I mean, really, if this is the way you treat your friends I'd hate to be your enemy. But that is where it differs... between being His children and His enemy.

He brings us through the fire to mold us and shape us and like a true Father, desires only our best. Every time we decide to trust instead of fear... we become more like Him. Every time we thank Him for His provision, before we see it... we become more like Him. Whenever we accept His will for our life rather than stomping our feet and demanding our own way... we become more like Him.

Someday we'll be graduating and I hear there is a place at the celebration banquet table for those who persevere. I may be exhausted and out of breath when I arrive but keep my place at the table because I will make it!

I hope you are enjoying the Deepening the Pantry links on the side bar. I'll continue more research after getting some e-mails caught up! :)

Shutting out the voices

I awoke this morning to the sound of my neighbor calling her dog. Lex has a tendency to go her own way and get in trouble for it. Obviously she was not obedient today for as I was sipping my second cup of coffee and watching Beth Moore on Life Today... there was Lex on my deck... in the cold... and in the rain. Poor, wet, cold, disobedient pup.

That's the way I've been feeling lately. (If you remember my pity party not too long ago.) I've gotten over that but there are times the enemy of our souls whispers in my ear "what did you do to deserve this?". God has to be mad at you or you wouldn't be suffering so from the pain of illness and the frustrations of "being in need".

If we're not careful, we talk ourselves into not praying for God's redemption from the pit because of this lie told to us from "that voice". From what I've been told, the illness from which I suffer was most likely caused by a perfect storm of a virus or infection coming at a time of extreme stress. Yes, there was such a time. There were many instances, actually.

Could I have avoided it by having more faith? Perhaps I became ill because I was drinking too much Pepsi and overloaded my pancreas? I know, I got sick because I was so angry with my husband that I spent too long in unforgiveness. That has to be it, right?

As I thought of Lex this morning, the warm and loving Voice overwhelmed that which I need to shut out. It doesn't matter. Nothing I did or did not do may have brought on the suffering at this time in my life. It truly doesn't matter.

His mercies are new every morning. He holds us in the palm of His hand. He says if we come before Him asking for forgiveness, our sins are as far as the East is from the West. He doesn't remember them so if there is a voice whispering in our ear about our past failures... that voice does not belong to the only One whose opinion counts. He does not bring up the past and He tells us not to fear the future.

He walks with us in the here and now... we can go boldly before the throne of Grace being washed white as snow and pure before Him.

We can ask for Provision even if a voice is whispering our problems are our own fault (whether they are or not).

We can ask for Healing even if our own disobedience has brought about illness or because we live in a fallen world.

We can intercede for a loved one to come to the Creator of the Universe no matter what the past has shown or has been done.

As I was watching Lex through the windows of the french door, that is what the true Voice whispered to me. For unlike that poor pup, we have a Lord who is waiting to dry us off, set us by a warm fire, read to us Words of faith and encouragement, and present us to the Father... for that which Jesus begins He will also finish.

As long as we have faith in the correct Voice and trust and believe.

Picture: Nostalgia mini; allposters.com

Life and grief

I'm still catching up but moving quite slowly. Thankfully, all I have to do today is to finish the laundry and get it put away. Christopher did such a good job cleaning and organizing his room for the Open House that I no longer fear tripping over items to put his clothes away. :)

There are few times that having a chronic illness gets me down but the frustrations have arisen these past two months as I had to push through intense fatigue when traveling, the graduation preps, and definitely the Open House. It is all worth it as I look back and have wonderful memories of visiting our friends, our fabulous kids and grandchildren, and everything associated with the graduation. Making memories is one of the most blessed opportunities a person has to affect family and friends.

As I've mentioned before, I was quite young when I first read one of Edith Schaeffer's books where she talks about how fast life passes by us. I was a bride and she was a grandmother when she wrote that particular book. At the time, I didn't understand what she was talking about. I certainly can relate now that I'm the grandmother! It was also from her that I learned the importance of making memories and budgeting for them in both time and money.

My brother-in-law, "Uncle Gibby", has entered hospice care already. It was not that long ago that Jean called to tell me the bad news (and I had to get off the telephone so I could have a good cry). He has had a long and a good life but there will be a huge vacancy when he is no longer with us. He is one of those people who have a "larger than life" personality and the only family member who was on the computer as much as me. I knew something was wrong when I was no longer getting jokes forwarded from Tampa. A big hello to my niece, Brandi, who (hopefully) is reading this!

Before the car broke down, we had planned to visit my other brother-in-law this week, the one that was in a nursing home during the winter and made a surprising recovery (at least enough to go home for awhile). His daughter told us last week that we should see him soon as he has been having chest pains again. I guess such things happen when you are the youngest by many years in a family... you watch your family move on from this world.

The picture above is one of my favorites but I haven't used it for a long time, as it reminds me so much of our Storm Girl. Sasha is still with us but has slowed down a great deal. Two of my very good friends both have kitties that they know will not be around long and both of them... long time best friends to their owners (or rather, the people whom the cat owns).

Saying goodbye to anyone, whether they are human or have fur, is the hardest things we do in this world. Mankind was not created to be separated... either from others or God. We were made in a Garden and filled with Life. Someday that will all be restored and that is the Hope of Glory... that which gives us the strength to go on when we know we will see a person again.

Do I always have great faith in an Eternity? Oh, no, there are days of weakness when I get frustrated at life as it is and stomp my feet at God and ask him if "this is it?"... is Life just a cosmic joke and someday we lay down and go to sleep... wither away with no meaning whatsoever?

Thankfully those times are very few and far between. Most days I do walk in faith, believing this life we live is a schoolhouse where lessons are learned and rewards are being sent ahead, where our Treasure truly is... in Heaven. I believe in a New Earth to come... one that has been restored in all ways. I believe I will have a perfect body with no need to draw my tummy in when buttoning my skirt. I believe I will see those who have gone on before me... human and with fur.

I believe there is music I have never heard and colors I have yet to see. Not to mention chocolate and other delicacies not known in this realm. I'll finally be able to retain what I've read and remember a name. Perhaps I'll even be able to understand math.

That's what keeps me going every day in these Shadowlands. I believe in Aslan. I believe there truly is a Narnia. The names are changed but the places remain the same. It has all been promised...

But let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I'll probably never fully understand. We're not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed.

You hear a blast to end all blasts from a trumpet, and in the time that you look up and blink your eyes—it's over. On signal from that trumpet from heaven, the dead will be up and out of their graves, beyond the reach of death, never to die again.

At the same moment and in the same way, we'll all be changed. In the resurrection scheme of things, this has to happen: everything perishable taken off the shelves and replaced by the imperishable, this mortal replaced by the immortal. Then the saying will come true: Death swallowed by triumphant Life!

Who got the last word, oh, Death? Oh, Death, who's afraid of you now? It was sin that made death so frightening and law-code guilt that gave sin its leverage, its destructive power.

But now in a single victorious stroke of Life, all three—sin, guilt, death—are gone, the gift of our Master, Jesus Christ. Thank God!

I Corinthians 15: 51-57 (The Message Bible)

Photo: After Hours by Janet Kruskamp; available at allposters.com