Looking back: a peek into my journal 7/25/05

An excerpt from my journal dated July 25, 2005. I've come a long way in my journey; having resolved most of this 'stuff'. But it's good now and then to look down from the mountain at some of the terrain you've covered. Maybe this will speak to other women facing the same thoughts...


"I've been contemplating the verse that says 'let your light so shine among men...'. The passages starts by saying that YOU are the light of the world. Then it counsels us not to hide our light. And I realize that I have been hiding my light. Because it's different. How do I hide it? Under social norms, false humility, and compromise.

So I'm trying to dig my light out of the closet, dust it off, plug it in, and see what we have.

Here, I think, are some facets of my light...

• Sensitivity to Spirit
• Intelligence
• Reflection
• Appreciation for aesthetics
• A soft heart for children
• Feminine strength
• Resolve and resourcefulness

Some of these things I've hidden so well that I don't fully understand them. I've tried so hard to fit the norm of "Christian" femininity that I have lost my sense of true femininity. (Not to mention trying to fit commercial standards.) What I mean is that I've been taught to think that a woman should be sweet and small (both externally and in my heart), unassuming, pretty, sexually attractive and yet not overt.

 But what does this have to do with ME? Could I not be kind--but not sweet? Large of heart, mind, and body? Dramatic--not pretty? Aware of my own sexual needs and desires rather than focusing on how to be attractive to another? Truly smart--not just a know-it-all?

Perhaps this is part of MY light. Not selfish or self-serving; but self-possessed and aware. Maybe it's time to stop apologizing for being too smart, too sensitive, too sensual, too ME...and begin to explore what this all means... "

***

 

Two Heartwarming Stories

I want to tell you two stories. The first is one I read some time ago in "The Power of Intention" by Wayne Dyer. The other story is about someone I know.

There was a man, relates Dyer in his book, who's son was severely disabled and attending a school for children with disabilities. The boy's father attended a school fundraiser, and after praising the school and it's employees, he asked a troubling question...

"Where is perfection in my son Shaya?  Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children can. My child can't remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection in that?"

The audience was shocked and silenced by the man's painful question.  He went on to answer his own question. "I believe that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way that people react to this child. He went on to relate this story about his son.

One afternoon Shaya and his father went past a park where neighborhood boys were playing baseball. Shaya asked his father, "Do you think they'll let me play?" Shaya's father knew that the boys probably would not appreciate having his awkward son on their team...but he also knew what it would mean to his son to be able to join in, so he asked the boys if Shaya could play.  Surprisingly, the losing team agreed to allow the boy to play. Even more surprisingly, they allowed him to bat. As he stood awkwardly at home plate, it was clear that he could not hit the ball. The pitcher moved closer and lobbed the ball gently toward him. Shaya still couldn't make contact, so a team-mate stepped up and helped him hold the bat. With help, he managed to hit a dribbler right to the pitcher. "Run, run!" his team members shouted, so off he went. The pitcher slowly scooped up the ball. It would be an easy out. And since the bases were loaded, if Shaya somehow scored, the pitcher's team who now lead the game would lose. Nevertheless, the boy purposely threw the ball far over the first baseman's head. Everyone from both teams cheered and waved him on to second. The throw to second base was somehow 'dropped.' On to third...there were more errors made in Shaya's favor. And finally home. The boys all cheered wildly and lifted him onto their shoulders. Shaya was a hero that day.

With tears in his eyes the father related, "...that day, those boys on that baseball field reached God's level of perfection for them."

Now I will tell you another story.

Last week at school I was monitoring the children having breakfast. I will tell you at this point that our school is a Title 1 school. This means that many of our kids come from families who depend upon free and reduced-price breakfast and lunches. It's nothing short of a Godsend.

I was chatting with a group of children who were happily munching on waffles when I felt a tug on my shirt. "That girl over there is crying," reported the little boy who was tugging at my shirt.

I walked over and put my arm around her. "What's wrong, honey?"

"I can't eat." She broke into huge sobs. Her wailing and tears made it hard to understand what she was saying, and I was trying to figure out why she couldn't eat. Was she sick?

"Katrina", a coworker approached me. "I've got this handled," she said as she steered the girl to a table and handed her a plate of waffles. The crying stopped. The little girl picked up her fork and began eating. She gradually regained her composure and even managed to laugh a bit with her friends.

When I later asked what had happened, Katrina told me that the child's family had been reassigned from 'free breakfasts' status to 'reduced price' breakfasts. But  for some reason they either hadn't known or couldn't afford even the nominal cost of the breakfast, so the girl was told by the cashier that she had no money on her account.  While I'd been talking to the crying child, Katrina was putting money on her account.

 This kind of thing happens every day at my school. Someone shows up with a warm coat for a child who got off the bus all shivery because he doesn't have warm clothing. Another group of folks chip in to help a family get the electricity turned back on when the power has been shut off.  Another person regularly scours book stores on her days off  to find books for students that haven't any at home. And at Christmas, lots of people bring presents for entire families who wouldn't have anything otherwise. I could go on.

There is nothing wonderful about poverty. It is terrible and ugly and debilitating for those who suffer from it.

But the other morning; when my friend Katrina placed a plate of waffles in front of a teary-eyed child and turned her tears into a smile; I think God smiled too.

Every day I'm blessed to watch God's perfection working through the actions of my friends and co-workers.

***

 

Considering lilies...

 

 

 

I've been much in thought about Luke 12. Where Jesus told us to 'consider the lilies.' Oh it is so like Jesus to use something as simple and lovely as flowers to convey his thoughts to us...

 

"Walk into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They don’t fuss with their appearance—but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. If God gives such attention to the wildflowers, most of them never even seen, don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you?"

 

 

 

 

 

 ^29-32 “What I’m trying to do here is get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Don’t be afraid of missing out. You’re my dearest friends! The Father wants to give you the very kingdom itself."

 

 

I'm listening, Lord. And I'm considering the lilies...

 

 

Have a wonderful weekend!

 

 

***

From My Journal...To be blessed...we MUST bless others

I've been a little under the weather this week, but pulling through just fine...still I decided to give you another little peek into my personal journal.

Dated 5/19/10

This morning I asked the Lord, "Where am I falling short? Why don't I see a greater manifestation of your blessing in my life?"

His answer, "It's your speech. Your constant criticism of others is actually tainting your own spirit and health."

So I checked the Bible to see if there was evidence that this could be true.

James 3:8-12 says:
"...the tongue is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. Therewith bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, which are made after the similitude of God. Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessings and cursings. My brethren, these things ought not to be. Doth a fountain bring forth at the same place sweet water and bitter? Can the fig tree, my brethren, bear olive berries; either a vine, figs? So can no fountain yield both salt water and fresh."

It is clear to me from this passage that when I try to intermingle negative speech with kind...the whole is tainted. Jesus said to make the tree good, and it's fruit good, and to let our yea be yea.

If one believes as I do, in the law of sowing and reaping, it stands to reason that sowing bitter words about another will reap a bitter harvest.

Once I saw this, I COULDN'T WAIT TO START BLESSING THOSE WHO IRRITATE AND ANNOY ME! I began immediately to begin speaking blessing upon those individuals and in doing so, I felt an immediate sense of spiritual cleansing. Fresh clear water was now flowing instead of bitter, brackish, poisoned scum. And they weren't nearly as annoying as I once thought.

I Peter 3: 8-10 says, "Finally, be you all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous. Not rendering evil for evil or railing for railing, but Contrariwise Blessing...knowing that you are thereunto called that you should inherit a blessing. For he that will love life and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile..."

So my inheritance and blessing is directly connected to my speech toward others! As I pondered this, the reason became evident...God has great plans for others; not just me. He wants to give them a hope and a future; and He wants me to speak these blessings over them; instead of selfishly just praying for myself all of the time. And when you think about it; how else could true love and ministry ever be?

Note from today...I'd almost forgotten that term, Contrariwise Blessing--don't you love it? I know a lot of people who are so obstinate that they insist on speaking contrary to what others say. You know the type...you say up, they say down? But contrariwise blessing is lovely. It's insisting on speaking good, kind things in the face of, well, let's just say, in the face of people who insist on negativity.

***

Gratitude and Blessing

I visited my little garden today. The one in the community plot at the Methodist Church. How different she seems now as we near September than she did only a month or two ago. And yes, I do think of my garden as a woman, a beautiful woman with a very short life. In June and July she was lush. Her cheeks were rosy and full; she was all a-blossom and bearing fruit.

 But now she seems so weary and tired... a very old woman 
who has given her all. She is spent. She sits in silence, head bowed...she needs to rest.

  The spinach and lettuce have gone to seed and the heads of dill are all dried up--but even in the dryness, their pungent aroma lingers. The scarlet runner beans bulge with pretty red pods, and I have just one hill, only one precious hill of potatoes left to dig. I can't bring myself to dig it up just yet. I think I will wait for a special occasion, and maybe Kelly will come and dig them with me--after all, he helped me plant them.  Aside from the potatoes and beans, all that's really left to harvest are the kale and tomatoes, both of which I have far more than I can imagine what to do with. I pick a few half-ripened tomatoes and leave the rest to ripen on the vine.

 The tomato plants have grown so large (about four feet high I guess,) that my crudely-fashioned stick-cages have collapsed from the weight of them. (Note to self...buy the wire cages next year.) The fruit left lying on the ground is rotting on one side, so I pick it and toss it into a pile, and wonder what a poor child sifting through garbage dumps would think of this waste. Which leads me to wonder why I am standing here in this beautiful little piece of Eden while others forage in landfills. Which gives me this mixed emotion of shame and gratitude.

 But since shame is such a useless, toxic emotion, I shake it off and choose gratitude; the only appropriate response to grace... 

So I say a quiet little prayer, thanking God for my garden. For rich, fertile soil and sunshine. For rain showers and ladybugs. I thank Him for the sweet carrots and corn, and for all of the tender green lettuce. And for the fact that I am here, in this garden.
 
Then I speak a blessing over my Garden. She's worked hard for me this season, and I dearly love her for it.

How can I repay the Lord for all His goodness to me?

  I will sacrifice a thank-offering to you, and call on the name of the Lord...

 

Psalms 116: 12 and 17

 

***

 

Wile E. Coyote, Seeds, and Solomon

 

"Your lettuce is going to seed," she accused me ever-so-haughtily. "It  really bothers me that people don't harvest their vegetables and at least give them to the food bank."

I sighed. It was true. Some of my lettuce had gone to seed. And the spinach. The basil too. Not all, mind you. Hubby and I have been eating fresh lettuce and basil and spinach until the cows come home. I wouldn't qualify her accusation with a defense;  but in my mind, I mulled over how much of it went to friends, neighbors, and passersby.

 "Hey, do you want some lettuce?" I  hollered one day to a pretty young Mexican woman walking along the sidewalk with a baby in the stroller and a beautiful little boy in hand. The child was around 5, with huge brown eyes that seemed to fill his tiny face, and his jet black hair was long and wavy. "Too pretty to be a boy," I thought, thinking that he reminded me of my 'pretty boy' Sammy, when he was about that age.  She spoke little English, but we figured out how to communicate a bit. She seemed happy to have the lettuce-- and the boy was thrilled to play for a moment with Baron, my big lab; who always accompanies me when I go over to the community plot to weed and water. "Lucinda...my name..." she said, placing her hands on her heart. "I am Debora," I replied in kind, "and this is Baron." The little boy repeated his name over and over. "Baron, Baron, Baron. I like Baron."
We smiled at one another and they took the lettuce and walked home. I went back to my weeding. No big deal. No magnanimous gesture--it was just lettuce.

Today I went over to water my plot. The garden's getting pretty ratty-looking and more plants have gone to seed. I groaned. Wonder what "Miss Persnickity" will have to say about this? I decide to pick some poppy pods. I'll take them home and sow them in a sunny spot in my yard next spring. Poppies and cosmos grow wild in our community garden. They come up wherever the wind and birds drop them. I just let them grow randomly among the radishes and spinach. It's always such a welcome surprise to see what pretty thing nature is going to drop on my doorstep!

I've been thinking much about seeds. Seedtime and harvest.

"To everything there is a season," pens the sage author of Ecclesiastes. "...and a time to every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted..."

In spite of what my dour friend thinks, going to seed is not necessarily a bad thing. It's a necessity for the continuation of the species, be it poppies, lettuce...or human beings. We are born, we bloom, we bear fruit, and we return to the earth. I think about all of the seeds that have been planted in my life. The seed of life from my parents. Seeds of knowledge from teachers, seeds of friendship and kindness, and sometimes sadly, seeds of hatred, despair, and hurt. We all sow them; don't we? Our words, our deeds, our thoughts, our prayers, our smiles, our gestures...all seeds. Sometimes we sow them purposefully and with intention, in neat little rows. Other times we scatter them carelessly.

I meet so many people who wonder what their purpose in life is. Always looking for the 'big sign' that will show them where to go, what to do, and prove to them once and for all that their life has meaning. I've felt that way too. I used to joke that God needs to drop an anvil on my head with a note attached to get my attention and tell me what He wants me to do. Like the Roadrunner does to Wile E. Coyote....beep, beep!










Somewhere along the way I figured something out. It's pretty simple. Sow seeds. Sow love. Sow kindness. Sow relief to someone in pain. Sow a smile. Sow a potted geranium. Sow a bowl of soup. Sow a "you look beautiful." Sow $10 for gas. Sow a phone call to your mom. Sow a note to somebody who's down. Talk to the homeless guy who's living by the pond where you exercise your dog. Help him remember that he is worthy of being heard. Give somebody a head of lettuce...That's it.
There it is...your anvil with a note scribbled on it from me.







While I was picking poppy pods, I accidentally crushed one of them. Hundreds of little poppy seeds spilled to the ground. Hundreds. From just one flower.

You're like that. Just full of seeds waiting to be sown. From just you, little ol' you! Imagine that!

So as for me, well I've stopped looking for the 'big sign.' I'm just tossing seeds. Sometimes I plant them carefully. Other times, I just throw them into the breeze and let it take them where it may.    

The Poppy Blumenfeld by Claude Monet

***
 

Listen to Your Heart

Many years ago I had a scary bout with my heart.  I had just worked up the courage to leave a career  that was beating me up physically and emotionally, and enrolled in college as a 40-something freshman.

During the years that I was working before this change, I used to envy women who worked part time or stayed home full time. On lunch hours I'd drive past the mall and marvel that there were people who could actually take the afternoon to go shopping or to the gym. What a luxury! But once settled in school, between classes and homework, I actually found a little bit of time for recreation. I decided to see what it was like to spend a sunny afternoon by the pool at our fitness facility. After swimming a few laps I got out and tried sitting in lounge chair and reading.  But I was still so keyed up and feeling guilty for being unproductive that I couldn't enjoy myself, so I gathered up my towel and sunscreen and headed for the showers; thinking I'd go home and work in the yard. You know--do something worthwhile.

All of a sudden my heart started to do funny things. After a few normal beats it would pause for what seemed like an eternity, and then beat madly to catch up. Terrified, I pulled my shorts and shirt over my still-wet swimsuit and drove like Jehu to to the doctor's office. He did all of the right tests, the halter monitor, the echo cardiogram, the treadmill stress test, and I'm sure other things that I've forgotten about. He said I was okay, in spite of the fact that my heart continued to flip and flop. If I wanted to, he advised, I could go on anxiety medicine to calm my frayed nerves and regulate my heart at the same time. I declined.

 Instead I called a minister friend to pray for me. She felt strongly that all of my problems stemmed from years of stress, and counseled me to take some time to rest. So I did. Gradually, the heart began beating normally and all of the nervous energy I was carrying about in my body dissipated. Since that time, I'm not afraid for my heart anymore; but I do tend to keep and eye on it.

I've learned a little bit about my body since then. My heart doesn't appreciate caffeine or super hot showers. And it lets me know when I'm not getting proper rest. Occasionally it will do a  warning thumpety-thump if I break those 3 little rules. When that happens, I usually pause, put my finger on a pulse point, and monitor the beats for a couple of minutes.

So the other night in bed, when I felt that quirky little thumpety-thump, I just lay there quietly and felt my pulse. One little hiccup. then it was normal again. It was so quiet I could actually hear it beating.

 A quiet realization came over me. I thought..."How wonderous is my heart! Listen to it; thumpthump...thumpthump...thumpthump. So dutiful and faithful to it's purpose; responding to electrical impulses that I have absolutely no control over. None. The One who set the axis of the earth and calls the stars by name...He's keeping track of my heartbeats. He knows the exact number of times that my heart will beat...and He knows the day and hour that it will stop."

And the understanding that my heart, the blood circulating through my veins, each breath I draw; all happening because of divine intention...flooded me with gratitude and peace. And I slept.

And as I slept, my heart went thumpthump...thumpthump...thumpthump...thumpthump...thumpthump...

Friends, I know you are talented and capable and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. But sometimes it's good to know that we don't have be in control of everything. Tonight before you go to sleep, feel your pulse and listen to your heart beating. You are here because of divine intention. Listen to God's intention for you...thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump.  Rest in that knowledge. Be at peace.

***

IMAGINE * MEDITATE * BELIEVE * SPEAK * ACT

Do you believe a storm is coming or the sun is bursting through the clouds?

 

Debora's Life-Rule #9

 

Some people don't think that they have faith. They think it's some magical, mystical thing bestowed on a few special people...

 

Faith is simply imagining that something good will happen, focusing on that thought until you start to believe it is possible, then saying what you now believe will happen. This is where most people give up. They're afraid of looking like foolish dreamers. But anyone who's ever succeeded at anything will tell you it all starts with an idea, some focus, and a few words. (Those words seal the commitment to the idea, much like an oath or covenant.)

 If you've ever written a grocery list you've exercised faith. You imagined a lovely pot roast for dinner. You thought about how you could make it. You decided that you definitely could, and would make a pot roast. You wrote "pot roast" on your list and told your spouse, "Honey, we're having pot roast for Sunday dinner." You went to the store...and there, in the meat section was the pot roast you envisioned. You took it home, roasted it in the crock-pot with some red potatoes...and voila!

 

Fear, on the other hand, is imagining that something terrible will happen and focusing on it until you begin to believe it. Whether your fear materializes or not, you  live it over and over in your mind. And for some crazy reason, people who live in fear seem to almost enjoy spreading their negative thoughts around. How often do we hear a negative person say proudly, "I TOLD YOU that would happen." Of course it did. They exercised faith in reverse.  It's like a number line, it works in both directions.

 

So...

 

 

IMAGINE*MEDITATE*BELIEVE*SPEAK*ACT

 

Faith is way more fun than fear (and a lot less stressful.) But in the end, it's  really our choice.

 

 

And Jesus said to him, "If You can? All things are possible to him who believes."

The Gospel of Mark  Chapter 9, Verse 23

 

***

 

Simple Math

I'm reading "Spiritual Simplicity" by Chip Ingram. It basically says...

ANYTHING minus LOVE = NOTHING

This isn't the new math. It's old school. You can read about it in I Corinthians, chapter 13.

It's really that simple.

Blessings to you and yours this weekend!

Overflowing Gratitude

I don't even remember now just how I wound up going to a gastroenterologist. But that's not really the point of my story anyway. In any case, somehow I was referred to the gastro guy who decided to run a scope down my throat and into my esophagus. The procedure was really a piece of cake, as procedures go; but the report...not so much. I opened the letter, read the first few words and had to go out onto the porch to catch my breath. My hubby had to read the rest of it to me. The words I remember were pre-cancerous and Barrett's Esophagus. Barrett's Esophagus is a condition where the tissue in the esophagus becomes inflamed from acid reflux and the irritated cells change to a pre-cancerous state. Not everybody with Barretts gets cancer, but it's a red flag.

The next several months were a series of trying one horrible drug after another in an attempt to control the acid reflux. My body reacted terribly to all of them. I could scarcely eat. I lost 40 pounds. I cried and prayed and went to the emergency room from time to time because it felt as though my esophagus was on fire. After a particularly bad night I called the doc to complain about the newest drug's side effects. I asked his nurse if there wasn't something I could take that was more natural. She got really snotty with me and quipped, "Maybe you should just go to a naturopath...we don't do natural here."

So I took her advice. I found a good naturopath and a new gastro doc. Went on an elimination diet to determine what foods didn't agree with me. (Turns out that yogurt and coffee were big culprits.) And after much discussion with my new gastro guy, we agreed that I would use Zantac rather than the heavy duty drugs that I had so much trouble with. Gradually, the acid reflux subsided.  And one more thing...I never stopped believing that God would heal me. Never.

When I shared my belief that I would be healed with my new doctor, he looked at me quizzically and said, "Why? Why with all of the terrible, horrible things that happen to people in this world, do you believe that God would choose to heal you?"

I quietly answered, "Because I asked Him to."

He shook his head. "OK, but you've gotta stay with the program."

"Okay," I replied.

I'm sure some folks along with my doctor might think me arrogant to believe that God would heal me. It's not arrogance. Actually, it's quite the opposite. I'll try to explain.

Have you ever known somebody who really, really needed something and it was within your power to help them? Say for instance you have a close friend who's lost their job and about to have their car repossessed because they can't make the payments. You hear about their dilemma and offer to make the payment. But they refuse your help. They're too proud to take 'handouts.'

 I decided long ago that I am not going to be that way with God. I will humbly ask Him for help with all of my problems, and I'll gladly receive all of the blessings he offers me. Then I'll thank him profusely, and rejoice in His kindness.

My doc implied that compared to all human suffering, my problem was small potatoes. I wouldn't argue that point. But I would argue that the One who controls the universe is not going to run out of miracles just because He helped me out of a jam. There's no scarcity with God!

So I just kept following the doctor's orders and kept believing. And I changed my diet. (I think often, when we get a diagnosis like this it's a warning. Like God is saying "Hey daughter...you best not be eating all of that junky food! And you need to treat that body I gave you with more care.")

It's been about 7 years and I've had 3 scopes done on my esophagus since that first one. Each time the irritated area has become smaller. The time before last we were down to the size of a pin-dot. When I commented to my doctor that my healing was progressing, he chuckled and said, "It's more likely that every time I do a biopsy I remove a little more of the scarred tissue."

I simply smiled and said, "Isn't it marvelous that God is using your hands to heal me?"

I wasn't being sarcastic--I truly feel this way. Truly, wouldn't it be a lovely thing to be used of God to heal disease?

I have kept taking the Zantac even though I haven't really had acid reflux for a few years. Today I called the doc to see if there was a good reason to continue taking it without having any symptoms. He said no.

So tonight Lord, I just want to say thank-you for healing my esophagus. My heart is overflowing with gratitude. You are altogether lovely.

A is for Angels

This idea came to me in the wee hours this morning. I was stewing about a problem (a really small problem in the grand scheme of things). It was like a noisy crow, sitting atop a branch in my brain, cawing, taunting, swooping in and snatching my peace and sleep. I decided to try distracting myself with gratitude.

"Let's see, what am I grateful for that begins with the letter A?"

The exercise worked. My problem took wings and flew away! So begins my alphabetical list of things for which I am grateful...



  is for Angels.

My first conscious encounter with angels happened when I was about 20 years old. I say 'conscious' because I have learned that angels work quietly among us everyday--and in ways that we often miss. They are everywhere. And for every bad thing that comes our way, for every horrible, misfortunate, tragic event that happens in this world; angels have prevented 10,000 more.

I was about 20 years old at the time. Johnny, my oldest child was a toddler, and Sammy was just a baby. We only had one car back in those days, and my husband needed it for work; so I was pretty much stuck at home every day. Mr. Hinton, a kindly old gentleman from the church offered to drive me to and from Tuesday morning Bible studies. I accepted, grateful for a chance to get out, in spite of the fact that the old fellow was an awful driver.

Seating arrangements in cars were a lot different in those days. Mothers commonly drove with their babies lying in little cheaply molded 'infant carriers' next to them on the front seat. Older cars often didn't even have seatbelts, and if you did have them, you usually didn't use them. I tell you this so you won't think me horrible when I say that when we pulled into the driveway after Bible study tht day I was in the front seat holding baby Sam, and Johnny was in the back seat behind Mr. Hinton.

I had just slid out of the front seat of the car and was headed toward the back to get Johnny when I saw that he had somehow gotten out by himself and was standing directly behind the car...and Mr. Hinton must have forgotten all about Johnny, because he was backing up! My sweet little boy was about to be crushed. I had absolutely no chance of getting to him in time! I started to yell. Then, at that same instant, that exact same instant...without a millisecond of time passage...Johnny was standing on the front porch--some twenty feet from the driveway!

Mr. Hinton stopped suddenly, rolled down his window and hollered, "An angel just put Johnny on the porch!"
Then he drove away. (I think that was our last ride with Mr. H.!)

Angels are not limited by time, space, or distance. Johnny was behind the car, then he was on the porch. No time passed between these two 'events.'

Many years later I was going through a rocky time with my teenage daughter. Her dad and I had divorced, and she decided to go and live with him. I was heartsick and worried. Her dad was at the time, living in a travel trailer at a beach resort nearby. I knew he loved her and would take good care of her, but it was painful to let go. And I was concerned about the trailer. Was it safe?

A few nights before she moved out I had a dream. There was a travel trailer in a mobile park with two men walking around it. The men were very tall...over 7 feet, I'd say. One was Asian looking. The other was very fair and blonde. Their faces were glowing. They seemed to be inspecting the trailer. They were opening all of the compartments...looking at hoses, pilot lights, the roof, etc. Around and around it they walked. It was clear to me that these were not men, but angels. My daughter's angels. And they were making sure she'd be safe. (When I later visited the place, it was exactly as I'd seen in the dream.)

Later that week I was standing in my living room when I heard something on the stairway. I turned, and there they were! The same two angels were standing on the stairs. Their faces were radiating light. They were tall, strong, and athletically built, and they were dressed in white. No wings that I could see. Then they were gone. (And for those of you struggling with teenager problems, take heart; I am happy to report that my daughter and I safely negotiated our troubled waters and are now the very best of friends! She is absolutely amazing!) 

Another time I was wakened in the middle of the night by a swooshing sound coming from the upstairs of our split-level home.

"Lord, what is it?" I asked in alarm.

Instantly I was standing in the middle of my living room. It was filled with angels. Large, small, winged, non-winged. Some had swords. They seemed oblivious to me and they were all moving about with great agitation. (The sound I'd heard was the flapping of wings.)

"What are they doing?" I asked.

"Battling."

"What are they battling?" 

"Everything you are battling." 

Then I was back in bed.

So... experientially speaking, here's what I know about angels. Everybody has some assigned to them. (I say 'some' because I know my daughter has at least two.) They are actively participating in our behalf but on a spiritual plane. Sometimes however, they do manifest in our natural, time-restricted realm. (Personally, I don't think there is anything magical or airy-fairy about this. From a physics perspective, I believe that they are simply operating beyond the speed of light. This would explain why we usually cannot see them.) Some look like people; beautiful, beautiful people. Some are winged. Some do not appear to be. They can be as small as a toddler, or very, very large. 

Biblically speaking, we learn that angels are created beings...not human. They are highly powerful have many functions; including helping people, delivering messages, carrying out God's decrees, worshipping, and doing spiritual battle. They are not supposed to be objects of worship and adoration. It was not at all uncommon for people in Bible times to see angels, and we are told that often people entertain angels 'unawares.' 

I am ever-so-grateful for these very real, very wonderful, very powerful,  and somewhat mysterious beings called angels, and the work they do here on earth. 

So tell me...what are YOU grateful for that begins with the letter "A"? (And I'd love to hear your 'angel story'!)

***

My Daily Choice

My Daily Choice

by Debora Rorvig

(I wrote this piece in 1995. I still believe it and try to make this choice daily.)

I must make a daily choice to believe that there is an uncommon beauty and an extraordinary purpose for my existence at this very moment and place.

For if I do, I will understand my connection to everything and everyone around me who also have purpose and beauty; and this will lead me to Kindness and Respect.

If I do not, I will view myself and the world about me with indifference and become careless and callous.

And if I know that I am a person of extraordinary purpose, I will believe that I influence the world about me, and that all of my actions have significant consequence. I will therefore act with Responsibility.

If I do not, I will attribute my failures to fate and blame others for my problems. Perhaps even worse, I will believe that my successes are luck; which is impossible to replicate and out of my control.

If I truly believe that there is a reason for my existence at this particular time and place, I will scan my horizons for every prospect available to me, and seize upon it, no matter how small or remote it may seem. I will have Hope.

If not, I will feel despair when others succeed, and jealously believe that they are more fortunate or blessed than I.

When troubles come, as they often do, or calamity suddenly strikes; if I am resolute in my belief that there is a reason for my life, I will bend with the winds, but will not break. Through the hard times I will look to friends and family for added strength, and in turn I will be a friend. ‘A three-fold cord is not easily broken’. I will be a part of a Community.

If not, I am doomed to suffer alone.

If I can see that there is uncommon beauty in my life, I will have an appreciation for all of nature. The fragrant earth after a summer shower, a robin singing at my window, waves breaking upon the shore, and the wonder in a child’s eyes; all of these things and countless more will give pause for reflection and rejoicing in my heart. I'll be filled with gratitude just to find myself included in such a wonderful universe. These things will bring me Joy and Humility.

If I cannot see beauty in my own life, I will miss the beauty of nature too. Like a tourist on a speeding train, the sights and sounds, the faces and smiles, days and nights, will all rush past me-as a blur. And at the end of my life, there will be no distinction…and no joy.

Some days it is hard to believe; hard to believe in one's self, in others, and in the universe. But in the end…

it’s much harder not to believe.

What Makes the Ordinary...Extraordinary

Every day I drive past this certain little coffee shop on the way to work. I rarely stop there because I brew my own tea most every morning. However, the other day the shop's reader-board caught my eye. It read, "Thanks for a great 2012!"

I was impressed! I mean, how many businesses are saying that 2012 was a great year? You don't hear that on the nightly news! Why, most of the companies I've been hearing about are still complaining about the recession. But this non-descript little drive-through coffee store out in the middle of nowheresville was actually thanking their customers for helping them have a great year.

I started trying to mentally account for their success. I knew that their product wasn't so special because I've been there a few times, and their tea and hot chocolate were just OK.(I couldn't speak for their coffee because I don't drink it anymore.) So it's wasn't their location OR their product.

"Hmmm," I wondered. "What is the key to their success?"

My passenger reached over and thumped me on the forehead.

 "Silly girl..." he said. "What does their SIGN say?"

"It says thank you for a great 2012."

"So what does that say about the business owner...besides that she's doing well?" he queried.

The light-bulb finally came on.

"Ohhhh, I get it...they are grateful; and they tell their customers as much."

"Good girl; now you're thinking! An attitude of gratitude can take something ordinary and make it extraordinary. Isn't that what you're constantly telling your students? So now... let's make it more personal. How was YOUR 2012?"

Well I've been so busy thinking about how I want 2013 to be, that I had to take a moment to really stop and recount what went on in my life last year.

"Well, it was really good, now that you mention it. I've been pretty healthy and happy. Our children and grands are doing well. Hubby has fully recovered from some physical issues that seemed pretty serious a few years ago. We've both got jobs, and I just adore the kids I work with. So yeah, it was a good year, when you really think about it."

"And are you grateful?" asked my friend.

"Yes, of course!" I replied.

"And did you thank those who helped you last year?"

"Well, not in so many words..."

I was feeling a little sheepish. That little story in the Bible about the 10 lepers that Jesus healed came to mind. Remember? He healed 10 of them and they all ran off to show themselves to the priest so that they could be declared 'clean' and allowed back into society. But then 1 of them turned and ran back to Jesus and said 'thanks.' Jesus asked him where the other nine were. Apparently Jesus felt sad that only one had enough courtesy and gratitude to tell him thanks.

How many good things, I wondered, have happened to me in 2012 that I took for granted?  I knew the answer...too many to number.

I turned to my Friend. "Thank you, Lord. You've been so kind to me all year. I can't even count all the times you've helped me out. My family, my marriage, my job, health, a home, why even this nice car we're driving in...literally everything I have is because of You. I'm so sorry not to have mentioned it before. Thank you Lord, for a great 2012!"

"You're welcome," He answered quietly.

And so, having made things right with my BFF, Jesus, by thanking Him for all of his blessings in 2012...I want to acknowledge YOU.

Readers, Thank YOU for your visits, kind words, and encouragement in 2012. I know you don't HAVE to read my blog; but you do...and for that I am truly grateful to you. Blessings to you!

Let us all go forward into 2013 with an attitude of gratitude, which according to my Friend of Friends...makes the ordinary extraordinary!

Most of my photographs, like this one, are of ordinary things because to me, the ordinary is so very beautiful. This photo makes me feel somehow like I am almost coming home after a long journey. I imagine a happy reunion inside with loved ones who've been waiting...

Encouraging Thoughts for the New Year

My meditation for this last day of 2012 was from Psalm 68:19. It popped into my head during my quiet time this morning. In the King James version (the version I'd memorized) it says...

Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our salvation. Selah.

I've always loved this verse; it brought pictures to my mind of God loading my life with good things--much in the same way that I load the back of my Jeep up with groceries at the market. So I decided to research further and see what these 'benefits' might be. I checked my parallel Bible to see how the verse reads in other translations. I must admit, at first I was a little disappointed. (For you scholars out there...when the KJV Bible italicizes words, you know that the italicized words were added by the translators for clarification and were not a part of the original Hebrew or Greek text. This is why its good to study scripture in many translations.) The Amplified translation more correctly reads...

Blessed be the Lord, Who bears our burdens and carries us day by day, even the God Who is our salvation. Pause and calmly think about that!

What!!! No backing my Jeep  up to Heaven's back door and loading it up with blessings???  I was a crestfallen.

The Still Small Voice said, "No, something infinitely better. I have committed to be in your life each and every day. To carry you through whatever circumstance you are in, and to shoulder the burden of your human limitations for you."

Wow! I decided to take the Psalmist's advice and pause to calmly think about that! (That's what 'selah' means.) It means that on the brink of a brand New Year, I (and you) can expect God's abiding presence in all 365 days of 2013. It means that when I'm troubled or worried or distressed, He promises to carry the load for me. It means quite simply that-- He's got my back! Your's too, if you'll accept it.

And that, my dear ones, is why I can say to you "Happy, Happy New Year!"

Go forward confidently friends...You are so very blessed!

***

Changing Your Focus

I've had my SLR camera for one whole year now. It has so many features that I've only just scratched the surface of how to use it. Even after taking a class I sometimes feel like I'm just bumbling around, trying to figure out whether to change the aperature, the shutter speed, ISO settings, etc.

One thing I really really wanted to learn was how to make that nice blurry background behind a portrait. Friends, I've stayed up half the night taking pics of my kitchen utensils in my quest to perfect the blurry background. Try as I might, everything in my pics was either perfectly in focus or totally out of focus.

Well, the other night I was feeling a little poorly so I took a steamy bath and then crawled into bed with my photography books. (This is my secret elixir when not feeling well.) So I'm lying there half asleep, leafing through the pages of "Painting with a Lens" by Rod and Robin Deutschmann when I stumbled upon the section called 'punching an image.' Eureka! Finally someone explained this so I could understand it! Holy Cow; I've been doing it all backward!

It was suddenly so simple. Here's what they said in a nutshell...

1. Find a background that you would like to have all blurry behind your subject. You know, pick pretty colors, patterns, etc.
2. Set your camera on a wide aperature and disable the auto-focus. Use a long focal length and look through the lens. Make sure your background is really blurry.
3. Now that you've figured out where to shoot for the background, take your subject and put it smack dab in front of you...as close as you can to your lens and still have it in focus. Move it around a bit until it's focused nicely. (Don't use your focus ring or you'll mess up your background. You'll focus the subject by manually moving it until it's in the right spot.
4. Got it? Now take the picture.
5. Voila!

Before reading this I spent hours trying to focus on my subject perfectly, hoping that somehow the background would not be in focus. Backwards! I need to get the background handled first.

Isn't this a perfect analogy for life? How often do we focus on the wrong thing and the wonder why the results aren't what we hoped for?

Frustrated with something in your life? Maybe it's time to change your focus. Are you obsessing on a problem when you really need to turn your attention away from it? I speak from experience. I get stuck on thinks pretty easily. It's hard for me to let go. Like when I was little and got a cut---I could just never let it scab over without picking the scab off before the skin beneath it was healed.  That's because I was focused on what was directly in front of me instead of what was below the surface. It's taken me years to learn to 'leave my scabs alone.'

I know it's hard, but maybe you need to just leave things alone for awhile. Go for a walk. Do your nails. Read an entertaining book. Take a casserole next door to your elderly neighbor. Breathe.  Stop worrying about your problem and just work on the background stuff for awhile. Trust. Believe that things are happening in unseen realms. Good things. God things.

One of my favorite verses in the Message Bible puts it this way...

“Don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or if the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your inner life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the ravens, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, carefree in the care of God. And you count far more.

25-28 “Has anyone by fussing before the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? If fussing can’t even do that, why fuss at all? Walk into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They don’t fuss with their appearance—but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. If God gives such attention to the wildflowers, most of them never even seen, don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you?

29-32 “What I’m trying to do here is get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Don’t be afraid of missing out. You’re my dearest friends! The Father wants to give you the very kingdom itself.

***

From my journal; I am justified

A post from my journal dated 6/21/06...

Romans 8:33   Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect. It is God that justifieth.

In the light of this New Covenant promise; could an Old Testament Job-type incident occur again? (One where Satan comes before God and accuses Job of only serving God for his favor.) I don't believe that Satan will ever again be permitted to come before the presence of God and accuse the brethren...for according to Romans 8; God himself justifies us. How could such a nefarious scoundrel ever be allowed to stand before Jesus Christ...He who has nail-scars in his hands and feet that were suffered for us?Never for a moment think that your experience is anything at all comparable to Job's. You have a way-better covenant.

***

Mirror, mirror...

Sofie and Isabella got their faces painted at the county fair. Here they are, gazing at their newly painted faces in the mirror...

My title for this image would be..."I See Myself as a Butterfly."

What image do you see when you look at yourself? Black and white...or Butterfly? 

"Behold thou art fair, my love; behold thou art fair..." 

from the Song of Songs; which is Solomon's. 

***

From my journal: It's OK!

An entry from my journal dated 6/1/11...

Looking at past entries in this book I'm amazed that the subject doesn't change much--either that or I don't learn much! Last week was Oprah's final show. She talked about a guest who challenged her to BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE ENERGY YOU BRING TO YOUR DAY AND TO OTHERS.

Energy--Spirit--Words--Deeds     Each leads to the next. I think this is so important. I've been working on it for a few days with very positive results.

In times past I guess that I thought that my attitude was a product of events in my life and that I had to struggle to overcome negativity. Now I see that the events in my life are effected by the attitude I bring to them and apply to them.

Oh Lord Jesus; only You can give me strength to have an excellent spirit!

I feel content tonight; more so than in the past. Content with my work, my marriage, family, home; but mostly...content with myself. Comfortable in my own skin. Finding my way and even enjoying the view along the way. It's OK to be happy. It's OK to be me..imperfect, beautiful me. Flawed but WABI SABI! I am the object of Jesus' passion...sin purged and reconciled to Him.

It's OK

It's OK to be happy

while your working on your stuff.

To be a little silly,

have a little fun.

Throw off your shoes and dance.

Wave at airplanes.

Pet dogs.

Read novels.

Laugh out loud.

It's OK to miss it

once in awhile,

just get back up and dust yourself off;

Walk on. It's OK.

Hold your head high

you imperfect one--

you are glorious

because

He says you are.

Don't ever forget that.

It's OK to cry

when you feel sad.

It's OK and it's gonna be OK

He promises you that.

It's OK to pray

for anything and everything

and everyone...

for broken hearts and broken nails,

for water bills and spotted leopards,

He cares about it all--

He hears it all,

He'll sort it all out.

Don't worry--It's OK.

It's OKAY.

I had this day;

a perfect day,

when everything was

A-Okay!

***

From my journal: Be lavish with others

I've been reading out of some of my old hand-written journals. Most of them are about spiritual truths I've learned. Funny how I've almost forgotten some of the most striking thoughts that I've ever had! I thought I might share them with you from time to time...

From my journal dated 8/19/07...

A thought--Be as lavish, generous, and over the top with kindness to others as you want God to be with you.

Think of the story of Haman and Mordecai in the Book of Esther. Proud and evil Haman advised the king that he should lavish honor on the man that pleased him [the king]; and give him a fine horse, a crown, and the king's own attire. Haman fully expected that this honor would be conferred upon himself. To his astonishment; Mordecai, his enemy, was given all of the lavish treatment that he wanted for himself.  Later, when Haman built gallows upon which to hang Mordecai; he himself was hung on those very gallows.

Essentially, what Haman wanted for himself was given to others, and what he wanted for others was given to him.

We must be careful not to build gallows for others lest we be hung on them. Instead, we must look for ways to honor others.

Jesus taught this over and over--the Golden Rule is one example. He told us to bless them that curse you and do good to those who despitefully use you.

Every day I must think..."How can I honor someone else?"


Today's Post Script: Hmmm, I need to remember this. It's so easy, especially when gossiping to 'build gallows' for somebody else. I need to practice wishing good upon others, even if I don't particularly like them. Please help me with this, Father.

Images

A visit to the barn at Hovander Homestead conjures up images of...

Grandpa Miller. Driving around the county in his horse drawn wagon; selling housewares and such.

Playing hide and seek in brother Allen's barn. Hiding behind old wooden crates and mysterious tools in shadowy corners and nooks.

Filtered rays of light coming through spidery cobwebs on brittle windowpanes.

 Building forts and tunnels in haymows...jumping from dizzying heights into piles of hay.

Being all itchy afterward.

And this one reminds me of Jesus. He says:

"Come to me all you who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light. "

And I feel thankful.