Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Priorites



It is 9:39, Tuesday morning.  I have had breakfast, played with the dogs and meted out daily medicines into their little Monday, Tuesday, etc. boxes.  I am finding at 63 I am wont to stay in bed a little longer in the morning.  Only problem with that is, there's less morning to get things done, which is my best work time.

I'm also finding at 63, I really don't care for housework anymore.  This surprises me, because a short 3-1/2 years ago, I was so thrilled to have this rental house (and I still am!), it was a joy to clean.  So it is not a waning interest in what God so graciously gave us, I just don't wanna clean. 

My favorite thing to do is stay in the Monastery, which is one of the bedrooms with computer and books, where I have devotions almost every day and talk to the Lord.  I can look out the window beside me into the back yard and see the trees we planted and the critters I feed peanuts to every morning.  To have solitude is a precious gift.  Time to think, to pray, to read, research, to play. 

Problem is my mind can't rest unless the house is fairly clean and picked up.  So I struggle with the balance.  I mean on the one hand, to ponder, to think and to worship are the best things, but on the other, I also want to make a good home for my husband.  I want him to want to come home, have it be a haven from the world and that includes being clean and uncluttered.

For today I have the blessings of dogs playing, candle lit, hot coffee and me at my computer.  But at the bottom of the coffee cup, there are floors to clean, furniture to dust, etc.  And in it all, to seek the heart of God and learn more of Him.

Friday, January 20, 2017

Sick Days



When I am not feeling well, and i'm talking about the Mommy Standard not feeling well, I like to pamper myself for the day.  Thankfully, I rarely feel that bad for longer than that.  But my day includes guilt-free time on the computer, multiple cups of coffee with whatever my flavor of the day is, Renaissance Man grabbing dinner on the way home, and just general loafing about.
I read a post this morning and the writer was talking about what her 3 favorite things to do are.  Like her, i'd never thought of it really, but one of mine is being alone with the Lord.  Of course the thoughts that immediately rushed in were how I become distracted, but also, when I don't, sometimes I just feel too dense to grasp anything He might be saying to me.  So my prayer is that, even if i'm like a dumb animal, I want His Holy Spirit to saturate me, let me just soak in Him for a while, curl up at His feet and just be with Him.  Because I do know this for certain, His presence is better than any other experience.  To just be still and absorb the love is the best thing this side of Heaven. 
I hope to grow and learn and mature in the Lord.  But on these days of not feeling well, or just not being able to grasp what He might be saying to me, I will just enjoy Him being here.  What sweet assurance of what is to come. 
There are people I love that will only change if they allow the Lord to change them (like all of us) and follow Him passionately.  This can make me weary and sorrowful, there are too many bills, the car needs work, I miss my friends and family, the list could go on and on, for all of us.  At this age, knowing that Heaven is the destination is incredibly comforting, and His presence with me now, a sweet foretaste.

Monday, December 19, 2016

Advent 2016



In celebrating Advent and reflecting on all that Christmas means, I was struck this morning with what was a new thought for me.  I have heard all my life that Christ would've died and rose again even if I was the only person alive.  But this morning it came to me, He would also have been born had I been the only other one.  He was born for me, as He died for me.

Ever amazed at thinking about how almighty God was crammed into a tiny baby and ultimately a grown man, knowing He would do all that for me is as staggering as the cross.  In Hebrews 4:15, it tells us He was tempted as we are.  Isaiah 53:3, that He was familiar with pain and grief.  He was born for it...for me, for every one of us.  For leaders in the world, for Olympic champions, for addicts who can't get a handle on their addiction, for the down and out, for the wealthy, for the good, for the bad...for all of us.  He is familiar with the pains that can fill our hearts.

But He doesn't leave us there hurting, He holds a hand out to us, offering hope, forgiveness, redemption.  And the very things that can put us under, become springboards for miracles.  Miracles begin in the heart.  To dare to hope, and then watch to see what He does, often times, quietly, seemingly in such a natural way, when in reality, it could only happen super-naturally.

The unfathomable love of God for us!  He won't allow short-cuts, only when we realize our utter hopelessness in our own strength, and how painfully guilty we are of putting Him up there on that cross, we are faced with the baby in the manger.  We are the reason He came.  The more I meditate on it, the more I realize Isaiah 64:6, "All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away."  But God.  But the baby we celebrate.

Once again, it's Christmas.  Time to realize all He is and worship.

Thursday, October 6, 2016

Seasons



I look out my window and my soul feasts on the color of changing leaves, vibrant in their new Fall brilliance, the apples that litter the circumference of our apple tree, little balls of nutrients for the squirrels and birds that frequent our back yard.  This is my favorite time of year, and this particular year is interesting to me.  At 62, I didn't think much would be changing in my world, yet I did enjoy Summer and that is a revelation, a paradigm shift.  I was told that the past Summers here were unusually hot, and this past Summer was the norm.  It has been alluring in its beauty, drawing me outside every morning for devotions midst the starting of the day, not yet too warm, gentle breezes blowing, birds greeting the day in song.  Sitting outside with my love, conversations held watching the world go by on our little neighborhood street as he tends the grill, which gets a workout every Summer.  All in all, I am a convert and have to say that some sadness rose up in me for its passing. 

But then that little something in the coolness of the breeze, that hint of the coming of Winter....but not quite yet, grabbed my heart and I remembered that Fall feels most familiar.  Favorite colors, favorite soups, favorite clothes, how good it feels to come in out of the cold, yes, Fall is my favorite.  Ask me in Winter, and I might say Winter is my favorite...or Spring...and now, perhaps Summer.  But I do believe in my heart of hearts, that Fall will always be that time when my soul feels most fed, most at peace.

I hopefully have many years left, but I do feel the need to appreciate each season, because how many are left I don't know.  So as the candle holder sparkles its design on the wall through an Autumn sun, I appreciate each nuance.  Each day with Renaissance Man, cherished, thankful to a God who so lovingly granted 18 years' worth of prayers.  Time moves on, through the seasons, and I move with them, both of us silently.  I worry that I haven't done enough, and I haven't, either through inability because of finances or fear, but I am confident that when I get "Home," none of that will matter.

Right now, it is enough to have this unique, amazing man, my husband (how I love that word, "husband"), our sweet kids and our family and friends, our sweet, sweet little pup and see what each day brings.  The thing is not to miss the moments.  Be present as they say, and I am, and through un-telling eyes, I marvel at the gifts He gives with every sunrise.

Saturday, July 2, 2016

Seasons



I am always carried away by scenes of hay-baling, chickens pecking the ground, big pots aboil on the stove, and other scenes of domestic bliss.  I realize that it is hard work this, and I wouldn't like it much most likely.  But I do remember working hard in Summer at this or that around our little tract house as a kid and how good it felt it to finally sit and rest in the shade with a glass of ice cold lemonade or tea.  There is a satisfaction achieved that can be found nowhere else.  I still work around my home, doing daily chores, but nothing too strenuous or physically demanding....and good thing, because i'm no Spring chicken anymore.  I find true wisdom in knowing my limitations.

But Summer's here and while I generally abhor the season, this year is different.  Perhaps because I sense the ones left are numbered.  Hopefully many, many more, but one never knows.  So I watch as my love mows the lawns, back and forth, back and forth....key word being "watch."  ;)  I open up windows all through the house as the heat of the day gives way to the coolness of evening, and then close it all back up when the sun lets me know it's time in the morning.  But this year, the grievance is gone.  I'm no longer mad at Summer, bringing such horrid heat that it takes my breath away when I step outside.  I am actually enjoying it.  My pup lays out in the heat of the sun on the hot concrete absorbing the warmth into her little bones, ultimately returning, tongue hanging out and many laps at the water dish, to retire atop the orange chair by the air-conditioner.  :)

The seasons change, people we love come and go.  It has been a battle hard fought, and I'm not there yet, but i'm closer, at releasing my loved ones totally into His hands and trusting that I will see them again one day in Heaven.  This is hard for us moms.  When it comes to our kids, we can leave nothing to chance, until I realize I would be robbing them of their intimacy with the God that loves them fiercely, perfectly, more than I do.  So I will proceed with the changing seasons, appreciate each one for what it offers and hold my little goslings up in prayer, trusting, hoping.  I Corinthians in my bones for these souls that are bound with mine.

And all the while, the learning, the pondering, the perplexing, the loving, there is this man by my side.  He does not always understand me, he gets it wrong sometimes, so do I, but he's there, he doesn't leave.  And when I call out to him, he comes, every time.  I suppose that it's true, you don't really know your marital mettle until hard times hit, whatever that entails.  They've hit, he stands firm, loves me faithfully, tries to help me.  We have hurt each other, but come out the other side.  The hurting was never intentional and apologized for with our hearts. 

I am still learning that no one is perfect but One.  And He is the covering for us all.  What safety there is in that.  Romans 8:28 is the bottom line for everything.  Even when human will gets in the way, He will use it for good. 

So as July 4th approaches, I am hoping to celebrate in fine American fashion, BBQ'ing in the driveway and pulling up chairs and a cooler to watch the fireworks from our front yard, grateful for my loved ones, those present, those not.  Always knowing that in every season God is still in control and loves us beyond measure.