I think I am missing something here...like maybe commitment to write this blog on a regualr basis? I write it daily...in my head...but somehow it seems my fingers don't get around to typing it as promised. I don't mean to be a slackard. I don't mean to make promises or the insinuations thereof, that I can't keep. But I do. I guess it is the same old problem...I think I can do more than I should. I have great intentions, but little motivation at times.
I realized that the entire month of February, I did not write one single line on this blog. I got another year older. Is that a good excuse? My grandson got another year older...how about that one? Potty-training an almost-three year old granddaughter? No? Oh well...I tried.
The point is, that I am realizing that I have this problem in more areas of my life than just this blog. I start out with good intentions and feeling motivated and lose track of things along the way.
It is true, that life is much more than blogs. Like homeschooling...and writing curriculum for my church...and writing puppets skits...and gardening vegetables, and moving, and cleaining, and taking all the grandchildren places, and being there for my husband and friends...I could go on and on as I have a very full life.
But, amidst my busyness and fullness in life, I must remember two things: 1. Not to bite off more than I can chew, yet remembering at the same time, that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me! And 2. That I must keep the commitments that I do make and should make them only after prayerful consideration.
Therefore, I have a new commitment to this blog...I shall not attempt to make it dailly, nor even weekly (although that COULD happen!) I shall promise to write as God prompts me...and I expect that to be weekly or at least monthly! I may use some of the curriculum writings to fill in from time to time.
One of the biggest motivators in my life is response! I get very little to no response from readers of this blog, so I have no reason to continue...
I once took a motivational test and it came out that my main motivating factor was to feel that I had made a difference in someone's life, whether it was just enjoyment or a changed decision, did not matter. But I need people to validate my life.
The problem is that I reap what I sow. I have three very good friends who also have blogs that I find difficult to read on a regular basis. The blogs are not difficult, my choices of how to spend my time makes it difficult. so, I find myself only reading them sporadically...so I guess I reap what I sow...
But I DO try to leave a note on theirs once in a while! That was a hint!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Recluse
Tom is gone. Just like that. One day he was here, helping people and loving his wife, and a few short days later, he was gone from this earth! His saga is sad, leaving behind many many friends and family members who loved him so. The suddeness of it all prompted me to write...
He was done in by a recluse...a tiny, brown recluse spider bit him on the leg. He didn't notice much until the pain began. He thought it was his bursitis. Then he began flu-like symptoms. He thought he had the flu which was antagonizing his bursitis. He even went a doctor. I am not sure, at this point, whether they examined his leg or, like him, just assumed it was bursitis. At any rate, he recieved pain meds and was sent home. The meds kept him sleeping most of the day. But the spider had not been sleeping! Those nasty little varmits don't take long to do a six-foot-plus man in! He went to the hospital and was admitted. He made a valiant attempt to survivie. Almost made it a week...most of that in a coma...and then he passed on.
Tom was a gentle, kind man ready to give assistance to anyone in need. But, he did not notice his own need until it was too late!
I thought of spiritual correlations to his plight. How many times have we been "bitten" by evil one way or another and not really noticed? Perhpas given in to temptation. Perhaps resisted showing kindness or gentleness or patience...any of the Fruit of the Spirit. Perhaps been attacked by others and left to sort out our own pain, medicating it with whatever made us comfortable. Or, perhaps, we became a recluse ourselves. Hiding and withdrawing from those who love and could help us. The tiniest of spiders can be the deadliest! The tiniest of sin can lead us into destruction!
Maybe we, like Tom, thought we could self-diagnose; self-heal...just take the meds and sleep it off. Spider bites don't work that way. Neither does sin. Maybe we ignore symptoms thinking we are tough enough to endure. Meanwhile, the symptoms grow and the destruction ravages our spirits, much like the spider poison ravaged Tom's body. By the time we finally submit to "hospitalization", the poison has spread throughout the body of Christ. If we have chosen to complain, to grumble, to insist we are "okay" and want to be left alone; if we choose to "sleep" instead of "pray thorugh"; if we think ourselves spiritually mature and "tough", we could find ourselves in seriously critical condition. (the last report we got on Tom before his death).
How many ministries have died? How many lost opportunities? How much pain have we suffered in silence and alone? The antidote for spider bites is not pleasant. And snake bites are worse treatment yet. But, in order to stay alive, one must submit to treatment. Tom did. He would have gone earlier if he had realized the danger. He wanted to live. He was not arrogant. But he was ignorant...of the spider's power, and perhaps, even of it having bitten him.
I wonder how many times I have been ignorant of the bites of sin in my life. I wonder how many times I thought my pain to be related to something else...something less potentially devastating...something less painful to treat.
I have a tendancy to retreat at times, and not expose my hurt. I wear my "big girl" pants and try to cover the injury instead of exposing myself to a full examiniation of the Spirit. He know anyway. He weeps for my lack of trust in Him. He weeps that I would choose to fight for my spiritual survival rather than allow HIim to administer the treatment. My concern is sometimes, "What will my friends think? They assume I can handle this or that, etc." But when my concern over others supercedes my willingness to be exposed by the Holy Spirit, I have endangered my well-being.
Let us not become little brown recluse spiders, hiding in the desert, lashing out in panic when disturbed. Let us not become spiritually dead trying to ignore the symptoms or self-diagnosing them rather than opening up to His Word which is sharper than any two-sided sword! Let us live in openess. Let us examine ourselves as the Bible says...let us confess our faults to one another...let us expose the poison of sin in our lives so that we may be healed!
God bless you, Tom...you are in a better place...and the spider is dead!
He was done in by a recluse...a tiny, brown recluse spider bit him on the leg. He didn't notice much until the pain began. He thought it was his bursitis. Then he began flu-like symptoms. He thought he had the flu which was antagonizing his bursitis. He even went a doctor. I am not sure, at this point, whether they examined his leg or, like him, just assumed it was bursitis. At any rate, he recieved pain meds and was sent home. The meds kept him sleeping most of the day. But the spider had not been sleeping! Those nasty little varmits don't take long to do a six-foot-plus man in! He went to the hospital and was admitted. He made a valiant attempt to survivie. Almost made it a week...most of that in a coma...and then he passed on.
Tom was a gentle, kind man ready to give assistance to anyone in need. But, he did not notice his own need until it was too late!
I thought of spiritual correlations to his plight. How many times have we been "bitten" by evil one way or another and not really noticed? Perhpas given in to temptation. Perhaps resisted showing kindness or gentleness or patience...any of the Fruit of the Spirit. Perhaps been attacked by others and left to sort out our own pain, medicating it with whatever made us comfortable. Or, perhaps, we became a recluse ourselves. Hiding and withdrawing from those who love and could help us. The tiniest of spiders can be the deadliest! The tiniest of sin can lead us into destruction!
Maybe we, like Tom, thought we could self-diagnose; self-heal...just take the meds and sleep it off. Spider bites don't work that way. Neither does sin. Maybe we ignore symptoms thinking we are tough enough to endure. Meanwhile, the symptoms grow and the destruction ravages our spirits, much like the spider poison ravaged Tom's body. By the time we finally submit to "hospitalization", the poison has spread throughout the body of Christ. If we have chosen to complain, to grumble, to insist we are "okay" and want to be left alone; if we choose to "sleep" instead of "pray thorugh"; if we think ourselves spiritually mature and "tough", we could find ourselves in seriously critical condition. (the last report we got on Tom before his death).
How many ministries have died? How many lost opportunities? How much pain have we suffered in silence and alone? The antidote for spider bites is not pleasant. And snake bites are worse treatment yet. But, in order to stay alive, one must submit to treatment. Tom did. He would have gone earlier if he had realized the danger. He wanted to live. He was not arrogant. But he was ignorant...of the spider's power, and perhaps, even of it having bitten him.
I wonder how many times I have been ignorant of the bites of sin in my life. I wonder how many times I thought my pain to be related to something else...something less potentially devastating...something less painful to treat.
I have a tendancy to retreat at times, and not expose my hurt. I wear my "big girl" pants and try to cover the injury instead of exposing myself to a full examiniation of the Spirit. He know anyway. He weeps for my lack of trust in Him. He weeps that I would choose to fight for my spiritual survival rather than allow HIim to administer the treatment. My concern is sometimes, "What will my friends think? They assume I can handle this or that, etc." But when my concern over others supercedes my willingness to be exposed by the Holy Spirit, I have endangered my well-being.
Let us not become little brown recluse spiders, hiding in the desert, lashing out in panic when disturbed. Let us not become spiritually dead trying to ignore the symptoms or self-diagnosing them rather than opening up to His Word which is sharper than any two-sided sword! Let us live in openess. Let us examine ourselves as the Bible says...let us confess our faults to one another...let us expose the poison of sin in our lives so that we may be healed!
God bless you, Tom...you are in a better place...and the spider is dead!
Friday, January 29, 2010
A Time to Trust
Trust has been a topic of discussion in several scenarios I have found myself in recently... How to know when to trust someone who has hurt you... How to have faith when things don't seem to go the way you prayed for and believed for. Certainly the institutions and systems of our day have failed us!
Trusting people has always been risky. I have read numerous reports of people doing things others never thought they would; both good and bad. The newspapers and TV news are full of stories of people murdering others, or doing some other henious crime totally against their nature, according to those that thought they knew them. There are people in prisons wondering themselves why they did what they did.
A moment of rage. A moment of panic. A decision not to take medications, not to listen to counselors, not to do the right thing...all of these can lead to regrettable actions. These actions often have monumentous consequences.
Sometimes I do not even trust myself. I know that, given the right set of circumstances, I too, could make a stupid decision.
That is why Jesus encouraged us to spend time daily with Him. To take up our cross, daily and follow Him. We cannot afford, as people, to try to make it on our own for even one day. We get tired. We get discouraged. We miss understand God's love and plan. We get angry. We get hurt. We get lonely. We start to listen to the many voices around us that do not honor God. And those voices can sound reasonable, leading us astray.
These times are hard. Many are facing the loss of jobs, security, and even homes. It is tempting to become angry when God doesn't choose to bail us out, in our way of thinking. It is easy to look at the situation of the moment and forget He has a greater plan that encompasses eternity.
Who can we trust? Only God. How can we trust? By getting to know Him more each day through prayer and reading His Word. It is difficult to trust in Someone we cannot see. It is hard to understand why our prayers are not always answered in the way we requested.
But, what have we besides trust? History has proven that humans are a resilient creation. We can trust in ourselves. We can trust in each other. We can trust in an unseen God. History has also proven which One is the best choice! I am choosing this day to serve and trust the Lord!
Who can we trust?
Trusting people has always been risky. I have read numerous reports of people doing things others never thought they would; both good and bad. The newspapers and TV news are full of stories of people murdering others, or doing some other henious crime totally against their nature, according to those that thought they knew them. There are people in prisons wondering themselves why they did what they did.
A moment of rage. A moment of panic. A decision not to take medications, not to listen to counselors, not to do the right thing...all of these can lead to regrettable actions. These actions often have monumentous consequences.
Sometimes I do not even trust myself. I know that, given the right set of circumstances, I too, could make a stupid decision.
That is why Jesus encouraged us to spend time daily with Him. To take up our cross, daily and follow Him. We cannot afford, as people, to try to make it on our own for even one day. We get tired. We get discouraged. We miss understand God's love and plan. We get angry. We get hurt. We get lonely. We start to listen to the many voices around us that do not honor God. And those voices can sound reasonable, leading us astray.
These times are hard. Many are facing the loss of jobs, security, and even homes. It is tempting to become angry when God doesn't choose to bail us out, in our way of thinking. It is easy to look at the situation of the moment and forget He has a greater plan that encompasses eternity.
Who can we trust? Only God. How can we trust? By getting to know Him more each day through prayer and reading His Word. It is difficult to trust in Someone we cannot see. It is hard to understand why our prayers are not always answered in the way we requested.
But, what have we besides trust? History has proven that humans are a resilient creation. We can trust in ourselves. We can trust in each other. We can trust in an unseen God. History has also proven which One is the best choice! I am choosing this day to serve and trust the Lord!
Who can we trust?
Monday, January 18, 2010
Blacklight of Love
Working in the health care field can be quite challenging. It has great rewards, grreat disappointments, great lessons. Caring for others, no matter how diligently one tires, is not an easy task! There are many facets of life involved and meeting the demands of others challenging in many ways. Among the cautions that one must take, is special car of what healthcare professionals call "infection control".
In the facility where I worked classes were available to convince us of the severity of this issue. The most simple concept was proper hand-washing. We all liked to think that this was an obvious, easily accomplished task. Yet, evidence of the need for more education kept surfacing. The nursing department purchased a divice to help us realize our inadequacies in proper technique. It consisted of a black florescent light, which, when hands had been washed with a special chemical and placed beneath this light, would reveal all themssed spots. All the germs still lufking in the crevices of the knuckles, nails, and such.
We didn't particularly like this dirll becuase to our horror, there were usually many germs proudly displaying themselves on our hands. At times, it felt like we would never get it right!
I thought about this exercise and realized it related to my life. There were ties when I rushed though life, barely taking time to worry about what might be clean and right and what might be wrong or dirty. And there were times when i tried to wash away the grime of life, attitudes, opinions, and failures. And thinking I had done a good job rising about my mistakes, I went headlong into the duties of life.
I often wondered why it seemed more poison, and difficulties seemed to arrive. I thought I was doing everything I could; all that I knew to do. It was then that I realized that God allowed the doffoculties, the dark times, because i needed to see that I, in myself, am hopeless to get "it" right. I can wash. I can change my outward behavior. i can hhold my tongue, donform my actions, but it is not enought to change my heart. It is not enought to bring me true peace inside, nor true joy and happiness.
Just like that black light revelaed germs otherwise unseen, yet posiing great danger, so the difficulties, things I did not understand, revealed the inadequacies of my self-righteousness. God, in His great mercy andlove, allowed dark times, blacklights of His love, to examine my heart and reveal my true character.
But He doesn't leave it there. He doesn't say, "Go back and wash again and get it right!" He reaches down, takes my hands, and washes me with the only thing that can truly make me clean...His own blood. the blood that Jesus allowed to spill for me. It dawned on me that the day Jesus died for sinful mankind must have seemed like a dark day in God's eyes. Even though He knew the glorious outcome, He also felt the pain adn agony His sone was feeling that moment. He knew there would be many who would reject HIm, mock Him, despise Him. Yet His love compelled Him to walk through that dark hour for us. How can I complain when He chooses to allow things I would call "dark" to shed His "light" on my life? How can I resist letting HIm wash me, challenge me, grow in me? I thanked Him daily for that blacklight at work, protecting me from germs. But i praise Him for eternity for that dark day He endured for me. And I welcome the dark light of His total Lordship in my life.
In the facility where I worked classes were available to convince us of the severity of this issue. The most simple concept was proper hand-washing. We all liked to think that this was an obvious, easily accomplished task. Yet, evidence of the need for more education kept surfacing. The nursing department purchased a divice to help us realize our inadequacies in proper technique. It consisted of a black florescent light, which, when hands had been washed with a special chemical and placed beneath this light, would reveal all themssed spots. All the germs still lufking in the crevices of the knuckles, nails, and such.
We didn't particularly like this dirll becuase to our horror, there were usually many germs proudly displaying themselves on our hands. At times, it felt like we would never get it right!
I thought about this exercise and realized it related to my life. There were ties when I rushed though life, barely taking time to worry about what might be clean and right and what might be wrong or dirty. And there were times when i tried to wash away the grime of life, attitudes, opinions, and failures. And thinking I had done a good job rising about my mistakes, I went headlong into the duties of life.
I often wondered why it seemed more poison, and difficulties seemed to arrive. I thought I was doing everything I could; all that I knew to do. It was then that I realized that God allowed the doffoculties, the dark times, because i needed to see that I, in myself, am hopeless to get "it" right. I can wash. I can change my outward behavior. i can hhold my tongue, donform my actions, but it is not enought to change my heart. It is not enought to bring me true peace inside, nor true joy and happiness.
Just like that black light revelaed germs otherwise unseen, yet posiing great danger, so the difficulties, things I did not understand, revealed the inadequacies of my self-righteousness. God, in His great mercy andlove, allowed dark times, blacklights of His love, to examine my heart and reveal my true character.
But He doesn't leave it there. He doesn't say, "Go back and wash again and get it right!" He reaches down, takes my hands, and washes me with the only thing that can truly make me clean...His own blood. the blood that Jesus allowed to spill for me. It dawned on me that the day Jesus died for sinful mankind must have seemed like a dark day in God's eyes. Even though He knew the glorious outcome, He also felt the pain adn agony His sone was feeling that moment. He knew there would be many who would reject HIm, mock Him, despise Him. Yet His love compelled Him to walk through that dark hour for us. How can I complain when He chooses to allow things I would call "dark" to shed His "light" on my life? How can I resist letting HIm wash me, challenge me, grow in me? I thanked Him daily for that blacklight at work, protecting me from germs. But i praise Him for eternity for that dark day He endured for me. And I welcome the dark light of His total Lordship in my life.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Camel or sheep?
Camel or Sheep?
I have come to Your bubbling water,
For I am thirsty in my soul.
I have tasted of Your clover sweet;
My spirit is made whole.
While some try life without You,
I must linger near.
Your presence is my sustenance;
I need my Shepherd here.
For I am not a camel, Lord,
Can't store enough for days.
I am just a simple sheep
Who daily finds Your ways.
You meet me every morning,
And the water of Your Word
Fills me with Your Spirit;
Your voice, I know I've heard.
And out across the desert
when life gets hard to bear,
I know I'm not a canel, Lord,
I'm a sheep whose life You spare.
When the heat of life is on my back,
And hot tears sre on dry ground,
I know there is a river, Lord,
that in You can be found.
So may I not act like a camel,
Coming to the river's flow
Only when I thirst inside,
But let me daily in You grow!
I have come to Your bubbling water,
For I am thirsty in my soul.
I have tasted of Your clover sweet;
My spirit is made whole.
While some try life without You,
I must linger near.
Your presence is my sustenance;
I need my Shepherd here.
For I am not a camel, Lord,
Can't store enough for days.
I am just a simple sheep
Who daily finds Your ways.
You meet me every morning,
And the water of Your Word
Fills me with Your Spirit;
Your voice, I know I've heard.
And out across the desert
when life gets hard to bear,
I know I'm not a canel, Lord,
I'm a sheep whose life You spare.
When the heat of life is on my back,
And hot tears sre on dry ground,
I know there is a river, Lord,
that in You can be found.
So may I not act like a camel,
Coming to the river's flow
Only when I thirst inside,
But let me daily in You grow!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Your Whisper a poem
Your Whisper
All I need is a whisper for You, Lord,
To calm this raging storm inside.
When doubts and fears have all assialed me,
And my tears have all been cried.
A whisper to my heart, "I love you!"
A whisper to my spirit, "It's okay!"
A whisper to my mind, "Be still now."
All I need is to hear what You say!
Life's trial's, like blowing sand,
Blind eyes and make it hard to see,
Confusion shouts resounding condemnation.
I need Your whisper, while I'm on bended knee.
When friends misunderstand, even forsake me,
And the enemy plot heavily my demise,
A simple whisper from Your Spirit
Quickly erases all the "why?"s.
A whisper to my heart, "I love you."
A whisper to my spirit, "It's okay."
A whisper to my mind, "Be still now."
All I need is to hear what YOU say!
All I need is a whisper for You, Lord,
To calm this raging storm inside.
When doubts and fears have all assialed me,
And my tears have all been cried.
A whisper to my heart, "I love you!"
A whisper to my spirit, "It's okay!"
A whisper to my mind, "Be still now."
All I need is to hear what You say!
Life's trial's, like blowing sand,
Blind eyes and make it hard to see,
Confusion shouts resounding condemnation.
I need Your whisper, while I'm on bended knee.
When friends misunderstand, even forsake me,
And the enemy plot heavily my demise,
A simple whisper from Your Spirit
Quickly erases all the "why?"s.
A whisper to my heart, "I love you."
A whisper to my spirit, "It's okay."
A whisper to my mind, "Be still now."
All I need is to hear what YOU say!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Scraps
I dreamed I looked at the mess in the living room of my life.
There, in many pieced lay the fragments of my days.
Fragments unraveling with failure;
Fragments of disappointment and shame.
Some were held together, it seemed, by sheer fortitude,
but lacked purpose or reason.
One piece over there on the couch,
Another on the table.
A piece representing the acceptance of others lay crumpled on the floor.
My eyes searched for success, for some small resemblance of purpose.
I caught sight of a lacy fragment,
a bright spot!
something better than failure...
I reached for it with a trembling hand and picked it up.
It fell elusively from my grasp, and landed on the floor.
It too, was less than perfect...
It was wrinkled a bit and soiled with think of opinions.
ALAS!
The more I viewed the mess, the more despondency grew within.
But then appeared a steady Hand, who began to pick up the pieces.
one by one,
gently brushing them off and gathering them into one place...
within the palm of that Hand.
Then, with quick, steady strokes, the Hand sewed the pieces together,
with cords that could not be broken;
threads that never go bard;
Strands of love!
Then I noticed that the Hand was scarred...
permanently...with nail prints!
suddenly i sway, not a mess; not ugly, wrinkled scrap pieces,
but a beautiful quilt!
He had taken all the plain, the mundane, the failures, the meaningless...
and touched it.
He had grouped all my mistakes and shortcomings;
all my failures and little, soiled successes, into one beautiful masterpiece!
It came to me, that without the fragments,
without the mistakes, there would be no quilt...
no comforter to cover the coldness.
Now there is purpose to the scraps of life...
Reasons even,
For I realized there was apttern to the quilt...
Not of pain and dispair,
But of peace, joy, and hope,...
A perfect pattern of the Cross,
Though not yet complete in my life, gorgeous just the same!
There, in many pieced lay the fragments of my days.
Fragments unraveling with failure;
Fragments of disappointment and shame.
Some were held together, it seemed, by sheer fortitude,
but lacked purpose or reason.
One piece over there on the couch,
Another on the table.
A piece representing the acceptance of others lay crumpled on the floor.
My eyes searched for success, for some small resemblance of purpose.
I caught sight of a lacy fragment,
a bright spot!
something better than failure...
I reached for it with a trembling hand and picked it up.
It fell elusively from my grasp, and landed on the floor.
It too, was less than perfect...
It was wrinkled a bit and soiled with think of opinions.
ALAS!
The more I viewed the mess, the more despondency grew within.
But then appeared a steady Hand, who began to pick up the pieces.
one by one,
gently brushing them off and gathering them into one place...
within the palm of that Hand.
Then, with quick, steady strokes, the Hand sewed the pieces together,
with cords that could not be broken;
threads that never go bard;
Strands of love!
Then I noticed that the Hand was scarred...
permanently...with nail prints!
suddenly i sway, not a mess; not ugly, wrinkled scrap pieces,
but a beautiful quilt!
He had taken all the plain, the mundane, the failures, the meaningless...
and touched it.
He had grouped all my mistakes and shortcomings;
all my failures and little, soiled successes, into one beautiful masterpiece!
It came to me, that without the fragments,
without the mistakes, there would be no quilt...
no comforter to cover the coldness.
Now there is purpose to the scraps of life...
Reasons even,
For I realized there was apttern to the quilt...
Not of pain and dispair,
But of peace, joy, and hope,...
A perfect pattern of the Cross,
Though not yet complete in my life, gorgeous just the same!
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