December 29, 2013

Once Blind

Wally Gobetz Photography
Several years ago, at the age of fifty-six, I accidently hit on the Book of Tobias, Chapter 14:1-4.

"And the words of Tobias were ended. And after Tobias was restored to his sight, he lived two and forty years, and saw the the children of his grandchildren. And after he had lived a hundred and two years, he was buried honourably in Ninive. For he was six-and fifty years of age when he lost the sight of his eyes, and sixty when he recovered it again. And the rest of his life was in joy, and with great increase of the fear of God he departed in peace."

I thought the age similarity interesting, especially since at the time I was struggling with a horrendous crises and teetered on the edge of serious depression. Of course, God was there, as always, but I couldn't really see His hand in my struggle. I was blind to His presence.

Looking back, I have been blind to His presence most of the time. Oh, I saw His miracles and gave thanks for them, but each time one appeared, it did so in spite of my doubts. I believed God was capable, that wasn't the issue, but I wasn't sure He wanted to grant the prayer, and I struggled with fear along with the doubt. I turned into a worrier, constantly anxious, over everything.  Time and again God showed me His compassion, but it never penetrated my What If mentality.

I thought about the passage a great deal, and conjured some miraculous event to occur the year I turned sixty. When the magical day came, nothing miraculous happened, no extraordinary event to herald better times. If anything, my circumstance were almost worse than those at age fifty-six.

December 14, 2013

Silent Communication

As I have aged it seems my relationship with God has increased. I see Him everywhere, His messages are in my Scripture readings, in my devotions, and in every nuance of my life. When I form a thought, He answers (confirms) in silent communication, that is silent to others, loud and clear to me.

The future is fraught with uncertainties, and yet now after years of worrying, I have learned put it all in God's hands and leave it there. The miracles surrounding the purchase of our new home gave me the final push to finally do this. In our payday to payday existence, owning another home was an impossibility that God made miraculously possible.

Yes, we closed on the loan last Friday. We are homeowners once again, inspite of all the roadblocks and deep canyons. God removed and spanned each one, and taught me, once again, to believe in Him rather than my circumstances.

As new issues on the emerged on the horizon, I have not (as yet) opened the door to Worry and Anxiety. This time I passed by. Nothing there for me. God has my future handled. Period. As if in confirmation, Psalm 27, one of God's many silent communications, was in my devotions. And not just any verses, but the ones He always repeats when I need their encouragement or reinforcement: Verses 1,4, 13-14:

"The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the protector of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?

One thing I have asked of the Lord, this I will seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.

I believe to see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Expect the Lord, do manfully, and let thy heart take courage, and wait thou for the Lord. "

Of course our conversation didn't stop there. Matthew 9: 27-31 was also in my devotions. Verse 28: "...And Jesus said to them, Do you believe that I can do this unto you?"

Yes, Lord. I do.








December 09, 2013

When The Other Shoe Drops

We were told we were approved for the house loan, then the day before Thanksgiving, the Other Shoe dropped. Now the underwriters want a guarantee from my employer ( a temp agency), that I should I be laid off from my current position, which I have held with the same company for over two years, that I will be placed immediately in another position.

My blood pressure soared. No employer can give a guarantee that an employee will never be laid off or fired. And, how can a temp agency guarantee an employee will be placed in another position immediately? Impossible.

Bill and I were agony. One week away from closing the loan and everything else approved and then have the dream of owning a home again snatched away at the last second. I called my employer (the temp agency) and told them what the underwriters were asking for.

November 27, 2013

The Miracle Turkey


This Thanksgiving my husband and I are thankful for the impossible gift of a home. Every stumbling block evaporated and we will close on our new home next week. As I wrote previously in Our Gordian Knot, the difficulties surrounding this were an impregnable fortresses only God could extract us from.

As I fell to my knees in thanksgiving, another memory surfaced, and given this particular feast day, I want to pull one story from the archives and share once again. Although this did not occur on Thanksgiving, it did involve a Turkey and I have not looked at one quite the same since this incident. God does indeed unravel our Gordian Knots, clothes us, pays our bills, and sometimes does the extraordinary through the very ordinary.

We were flat broke with several more days to payday. With three kids to feed and a pantry nearly bare, things looked pretty grim. I mentioned my concern to a close friend at work.

"Remember when God paid your insurance? If He will do that, he will surely feed your family as well. Trust Him."

She then told me this story.  

November 02, 2013

Choosing to Believe

Our loan officer announced our application has gone to the underwriters and a decision should be made within the next two or three days. It is hard not to be anxious. We are ready to settle down and stop moving from place to place and from house to house. It seems now is the perfect time. The house is perfect. The price is perfect and interest rates are the lowest they have been in years, and yet, is it God's will for us?

So far, the issues of the down payment, the closing costs, the inspection costs and the appraisal costs have evaporated, all taken care of in ways we did not foresee. My heart says not to worry, but my mind still conjures images of things that could yet go wrong - until.

October 26, 2013

The Night of the Banshee

Bill brought Rusty home the day after Christmas, the year of the record snowfall, a plump white puppy too cute to resist, filled with an abundance of exuberance. The two were best buds from the first night.
Ten years later, I was the Interloper who came onto the scene mid-way into the act and it was not love at first sight, not on Rusty’s side of the equation. Oh, he was charming enough during the initial greetings, it was later, after Bill and I sat down on the couch to watch a movie that his jealousy showed. 
He wormed his way between us, giving me a look that said, "No one comes between me and my Dad."
When Bill gently moved him to the other side of the couch, he got down, shot us an insulted look and headed for the bedroom. I did not think much about it, but I should have. My purse was lying on the bed.  

October 19, 2013

Our Gordian Knot and Something Odd in the Sky

The freight train of trouble increased speed this week when my dad called regarding my mother. Doctors say she will have a major stroke if she doesn't have surgery to clear the clogged artery, and yet, given her current situation, they give her only a 50-50 chance of surviving the surgery. Another consultation is set for this coming week.

Shortly after receiving this heart breaking, nerve-wracking word, the car left me stranded - again -this time at the gas station.

Which issue do we address first? Should I take unpaid time off from work and make the seven hour drive home to see my mother, taking our only working vehicle or do we rent one? Do we fix the car first or do we we march ahead with buying a house? If we do go for the house, we avoid the double cost of two addition moves and higher interest, not to mention prices. If we go for a loan, will the job last long enough to close? We can only do one and by choosing it, will delay our ability to do the other for several months to a year.

October 16, 2013

Playing Chicken

I'm not an adrenaline junkie. I don't like to sky dive, or climb steep cliffs, clinging by fingernails and toenails. I don't plan on being in an Indie 500 hundred race or become a fighter pilot. Yet, life sometimes forces me to play chicken with oncoming crises. I see the freight train coming, and I would prefer to get off the tracks, but I can't, not yet. The train has to get much closer before I can react. 

October 06, 2013

The Unexpected Journey

This past week Facebook hosted Throwback Thursday and many posted a nostalgic picture of either themselves or family. I resisted most of the day, but after enjoying the photos of others, I decided to participate and dug out my senior photo. I didn't remember this young woman.

I stared at the photo for several minutes before the memories returned. I still don't remember the day the photo was taken. I know I was seventeen, because it was taken in September of my senior year. With this memory recalled, more pieces fell into place.

I was dating my first husband at the time, and had no clue what was coming. I wouldn't say I was innocent, (my family could quickly illustrate that was not the case), I was however, naive. Growing up in a loving Christian home, I couldn't imagine the horrors some people could inflict on others. This young girl found out too quickly it isn't always safe to trust someone who says they love you.

September 30, 2013

Regaining My Sight

Rain is predicted all week. Although the moisture is needed, I spent most of our unusually hot August looking forward the the more temperate days of fall. Only a few trees are changing color. Will we not have the brilliant displays this year?

The weather seems a good metaphor for my own mood. As positive as I've tried to be, I can't push out the thought that the job will run out before the lease on the house, and our finances will be too tight to really prepare for our impending life on the road. Added to this, the car we planned to sell to help finance some of these expenses (and which we will no longer need when I quite work) wouldn't start last Friday and left me stranded in the parking lot at work. Not good timing for many reasons.

My husband and I had planned a weekend trip up north to scout out campsites and RV services in several areas we hoped to spend some time. We had already made reservations at a lodge along the Salmon River and it made us sick to think of canceling.

The two of us worked on the darn car for over two hours without any success. Knowing our plans, my employers graciously allowed us to leave the car in their parking lot over the weekend. Although we had a wonderful time, the car hung over our heads like the proverbial dark cloud. That cloud got much darker Sunday afternoon.

September 15, 2013

Plan G or is it Z?

Between our impending move and  the tenuous situation with my job I felt overwhelmed, unmotivated and frustrated all week. Added to this, I am struggling with the edits for my novel. During the best of times, writing is hard, and editing will cause any author to pull out fistfuls of hair. As a first time novelist, I am unsure, overly critical and overwhelmed. Good thing my hair grows fast.

My husband and I put our heads together and made some plans to offset the job situation and the move. We may end up with a Plan B or even G, but at least we have a current goal, something to shoot for. It felt good to be able to take some action, rather than just sit around and wring our hands.

August 18, 2013

What's Behind the Door?

When a friend approached me with a lead on a permanent position I nearly leapt from my feet and hugged her.  I've been working under a temporary contract for two years and it now looks as if the job maybe outsourced to another country sometime in the next few months. In view of this, this opportunity for a regular job seemed perfect - until I dug into the job description.

Yes, it is within my experience and skill set. Yes, I am a good candidate. What I read that has me not so thrilled were the words: may need to work holidays. I have seen this before, and it usually means shift work. I've tried working nights when I was younger. It was a disaster for both my employer and myself, and yet in this economy, and at my age, can I turn down the chance of employment with full benefits? 

August 12, 2013

Rough Night in Paradise

My husband and I have made five major moves in the eleven years we have been married, and literally lived on the road for five months in the RV, looking for the proverbial Paradise, the greener pastures, or whatever you want to call it.

We lived in our first house only three years when he decided he would rather live in Arizona. We left Oregon for Sierra Vista. We stayed one year in that city.

Wanting to travel, we bought an RV, put all of our household goods into storage, and hit the road as full time RVers. We passed through Arizona, Utah, Wyoming, Montana and Idaho in one month, We loved Idaho, and stayed in that state for four months. I wanted to move there, but we instead went back to Arizona. My husband felt it was financially prohibitive at that time to relocate such a distance.

August 10, 2013

The Juggling Act vs. The Wish List

So, how did I do this week with my attempt to balance my life? Well, the it resembled the picture to the left, there won't be any talent agencies offering me a contract for my juggling abilities. Out of all the balls I tossed into the air, I manage two phone calls to family and only made it out to the glider once - for about five minutes. 

What black hole is sucking up my time? After more reflection , I think I've discovered culprit No.2 - age. ( seeThe Wish List for Culprit No.1).

Yep it's age. When my kids were still young, I dreamed about all the time I would have after they were grown. Then, my dad burst that bubble. "You won't have any extra time after the kids are gone, because it will take you twice as long to do everything."

Guess what? Now that I have reached that same age bracket, I have to admit he was right, and that is something I fail to account for in my To Do Lists and my Wish Lists. When making those lists,  I feel invincible  with more energy than the Eveready Bunny, until I actually start doing the things on my list.

Okay, so what do I do now? I need to do something because I am falling further and further behind and becoming more frustrated. Should just accept the fact I can't do it all and just let it all go? The selfish part of my ego is screaming, no, terrified the things left off the list will be the ones I want to do the most. Is there any hope?


August 04, 2013

The Wish List

Every morning this summer I have vowed to spend a few minutes on the back patio watching the sunrise. I envision swinging on the glider, with my cup of coffee soaking in the serenity. How often have I accomplished this simple wish? Not one single morning, not even on the weekends, and it is August already.

How many other simple things do I push away feeling too harried and too rushed to accomplish? In all honesty, I am a bit nervous about opening that door, afraid of what I'll find stuffed in there. A few come to mind without much effort: more time spent with my husband - quality time - not the kind where we sit on the couch side by side with our computers or watching T.V. How often do I call friends and family? How often do I make the time to meet with them? 


July 28, 2013

The Twilight Zone

It was the day before my sister's wedding. I hadn't even finished hemming my dress, but figured I could squeeze in a quick lunch with a friend. I stayed too long of course, and raced out of the restaurant, right onto the Twilight Zone. My portal? A flat tire.

The tires were new. How could  I have a flat? I looked at my watch, three o'clock. My husband should be home. It was in the age before cell phones which meant I had to go back into the restaurant and use the pay phone in the lobby.

There was no answer. Odd. My husband and the kids should all have been home by then. I waited several minutes and then tried again, and again. Finally one of the boys answered.

"Where's your dad?"

"He's not home, Mom. Oh wait here he comes. Oh oh. They're towing the truck." 

"Towing the truck? But, I have a flat tire! Never mind. Tell your dad I'll call your Grandfather."

After a thorough search of the car, my dad and uncle gave up trying to discover the secret compartment where the spare tire and jack lay cleverly hidden. Obviously only the manual would be of help, and it was mysteriously missing from the glove compartment. Without any other choice, my dad used his ill-fitting jack to remove the tire, and left me to stand guard while he and my uncle ran to the closest tire shop. It was then it began to snow, not pretty fluffy stuff, but wet sleet. Great. 

I was shivering by the time my dad and uncle returned with the tire - unfixed. The large hole was irreparable. The only thing the tire shop could do was put on a patch, which they refused to guarantee. I drove slowly, never over twenty miles an hour with my dad and uncle following just in case. I was really going to scramble to get dinner fixed and get everything else done.

With the truck out of commission, it was imperative  we get a new tire. So, my husband took the car down to the tire dealer while I started dinner. He wasn't gone long when the phone rang. Intuition told me it wasn't going to be good news - and it wasn't.

"Honey, we can't get new tires tonight. The front strut broke and that's what punctured the tire. That has to be fixed before a new tire can be put on, and they can't get to that until sometime tomorrow."

"What are going to do? The wedding is at ten!"

"I've called my dad. We can borrow their car while ours is being fixed."

About the time I expected my husband home, I heard frantic banging on the back door. It was Ron. He held up the handle to the screen door. "I couldn't get in."

Before I could fully process that issue, I heard an explosion coming from the general vicinity of the kitchen. The lid to the pressure cooker lay in the sink. The ceiling, walls, and floor were covered with a green mass of unrecognizable matter. From the smell I guessed its identity.

Brussels sprouts have a distinct aroma under normal circumstances, I can't describe what odor assaulted our sense of smell that night. We discussed evacuation, but with so many family members in town for the wedding, we didn't have anywhere to go. Desperate, I used one of my Grandmother's home remedies. Boiled vinegar doesn't have the best fragrance, but it was a whole lot better than the other smell.

By this time it was late, I was tired, and I just wanted to to bed. I went to the bedroom and pulled back the covers. My visit to the Twilight Zone wasn't over yet. The blankets were wet, soaking wet. With a groan I pulled back the sheets. A water fountain rose at least a foot from the water bed.

Nothing to do but drain the mattress and pull out the hide-a-bed, the one with the half-inch thick mattress and rigid steel frame. Yep, that one.

I lay in the dark, smelling the lingering residue of burned Brussels sprouts barely masked by a nauseous layer of boiled vinegar, and tried to ignore the steel rod poking my back and my husband's snoring. It was then I remembered I still hadn't hemmed my dress. I was Maid of Honor and there wasn't the option of wearing something else. I was too tired to cry.

We survived the night. I managed to hem my dress and make it to the wedding on time. However, I no longer have a pressure cooker (not that kind, anyway) or a water bed. Neither have I fixed Brussels sprouts, even though it was one of  my late husband's favorite vegetables. Yeah, I know. What can I say? He liked pickled pigs feet too, but that's a story for another time.







July 21, 2013

Better, Best, But Mostly In Between

Events over the last few days have not brought out the best in me, and yet they did not extract the worst either, but something in between.

 I didn't respond with a snide comment to my co-worker's cutting criticism, but I am sure my body language expressed my feelings loud and clear. Still,  it was better than uttering a unkind remark, right?

July 14, 2013

Not Peace?

Do not think that I came to send peace upon earth: I came not to send peace, but the sword.  Matthew 14:34

For those of us seeking and praying for peace, these are harsh words. The text goes on to say there will be strife among families as well as neighbors and anyone who loves father, mother or siblings more than God is not worthy of Him.

 In Matthew 10: 16:23 Jesus further reveals the turmoil Christians will face. The brother also shall deliver up the brother to death, and the father the son: and the children shall rise u against their parents, and shall put them to death.

In light of these passages, my personal experience this past week should not be such a shock. Family issues related to religion and politics and co-worker provocations knocked me off my feet and sent me reeling. I have tried to swallow my anger with limited success. The above scripture continues with the assurance that the kindnesses we do will not be without reward. Does holding my tongue and restraining my anger constitute a kindness? In some cases, absolutely, to myself as well as others.

A recent meditation from Richard Rohr suggests we rush around hanging onto our nothing by any means available, including anger, violence, lying, and theft. What exactly do we think we hold onto? In my case, my way of life, my possessions - my pride. After years of attempting to relinquish my desire for anything but God, I still cling to things, still cling to my ego.

How wise Jesus was to remain silent in the presence of his accusers. Anything He said would be used to further inflame the crowd. The same is true of many of our personal situations. In the instances mentioned above, any comment I made spurred more insults and arguments.  Silence was the only way to cool the fire, on the outside anyway. I seethed for days at the false accusations and insults, until God pointed out my error.

Jesus was right when he said all sin comes from a man's heart. It is what lies hidden in our hearts that define who we really are. The situation isn't hopeless. Through prayer, God can change our hearts. He can change stone to compassion. The trick is to keep praying, to keep trying and not give up when we fail or those brandishing the sword seem to be winning.

Will vigilant prayer change anything? Something will change, that is a guarantee, even if it is only my heart. The above passage brought a degree of solace. When I stand up for my faith and for my principles, in either word deed -or silence- I can expect to be insulted, and to be the target of others' anger. What I need to guard against is my own hate, my own anger.

God has promised whatever we seek, we will find. I have made a vow to seek peace, not necessarily in the world around me, but in my heart. I mean to curb my anger at injustices, replacing that emotion with prayer and action, where and when I can.  Jesus didn't swing a physical sword, inflicting wounds on those deserving His justice, and I am personally glad, because I too would fall under that sword. Instead, He prayed for those who afflicted Him, even from the cross. He did so without hate or anger and He expects no less from me. It's a tall order, but I am willing to try.

This morning, I lay my sword aside and pray for those who hurt and chose to inflict that hurt onto others. I pray not for peace in the world but for peace in every heart, beginning with mine.




July 04, 2013

Coming Soon to an Amazon Near You - Sneak Preview....

Susannah Carlson’s premonitions do not foretell cataclysmic world events. They reveal child abductions, heinous crimes perpetrated by heartless monsters on innocent children. Knowing the exact time and place of the abduction, Susannah arrives ahead of the predator, and waits. When the criminal strikes, she intercedes, snatching the child away to safety, and ensuring the pedophile’s arrest and conviction – if all goes according to plan.  

When things go awry and people get hurt, Susannah must push through her doubts, worries and emotions and continue rescuing the children. Then, at the exact moment it appears she will lose everything, God grants her a miracle, and answers her most heartfelt prayer - if she can hold on to her faith long enough to receive it. 








Planned launch Fall of 2013. 

Giggle. 





July 01, 2013

Thick Skinned or Standing Firm?

With the approaching launch of my novel, I have read numerous blogs and articles about book reviews. Even  the most intriguing and well-written stories receive some bad reviews, and my work will be no exception. I think I'm mentally and emotionally ready. I think.

Stories, like art, are subjective, liked or disliked based on the viewer/reader's preferences. Does a bad review mean it is a bad story? Not necessarily, and then, maybe.

As with all criticism, the comment must be evaluated. Does it have merit? Would it improve the art to accept the suggestion? Or, is it only a personal opinion that doesn't bear any true relation to the quality of the art?

June 23, 2013

Divine Persuasion

Skeptics have asked, "If we have free will, then how do you explain Divine omniscience?" The answer of course lies in the difference between knowing an event will happen and controlling the circumstances that cause the event.

After becoming a parent, I related this to my youngest child climbing the so-called-no-climb-fence. The design merely slowed her down until I could race out the backdoor and nab her before she got to the top, usually.

It didn't take Divine omniscience to know what would happen should I fail, and my knowledge of the outcome, did not alter her freedom to choose. Same with God and us, except on a much higher scale.

This thought leads me to the idea of praying for someone's conversion, or change in behavior. What happens to free will in that instance? Do we, or God, force the person to act against their will? Of course not. This is where the power of Divine persuasion comes into play.

June 16, 2013

What's for Dinner

There are many weighty issues on my mind, the state of our world, the suffering of so many people, crime, wars, political scandals, personal issues. It is overwhelming.  My heart and soul are bent under the weight of it all.

I have heard all the usual axioms: think positive, don't worry about what might or might not happen, in other words don't borrow trouble. Who's borrowing? One look at the news, or an honest evaluation of my own circumstance tell me I don't need to borrow any. There's plenty of trouble right here in River City. Yes, folks, plenty of trouble.

June 09, 2013

City of Angels - Why Would an Angel Want to Be Human?

One of my readings, from the book of Tobias (one of the books of the Apocrypha), describes the Angel Raphael taking on the form of a man, a man recognizable by others  as a member of a particular family. A footnote to the scripture stated the angel personated the man.


Thinking about angels personating men reminded me of the movie, City of Angels. The premise is endearing, but flawed. How romantic to think a heavenly being would be so passionately in love, he would give up his angel status and become human. On more than one occasion Hollywood has implied this world is far better than the next, and all life would choose to be human.

June 05, 2013

Work - That Four Letter Word

I am aging, getting closer to that golden egg called retirement. I have all these grand ideas illusions about how much time I will have to write, paint and do all the things I've been dreaming about, not to mention not worrying about the stress of work. Am I doing a good job? Am I making too many mistakes? Have I annoyed anyone today? 

Believe it or not, worrying about whether I've annoyed someone gives me more stress than the others, almost. I worry about how I treat others to a nearly obsessive level. Why? Too many years in retail. My entire livelihood depended on whether my customers were happy enough to come back, and tell others about my business. I could not afford to offend anyone.

April 28, 2013

Nothing To Prove



Scriptures state it. Motivational speakers repeat it. Devotionals reinforce it. I believe it. Then I forget. I let the concerns, worries, and tribulations of the world rob me of this truth. I have nothing to prove.


God knows my heart. He knows my errors in judgement and my bouts of selfishness. He also knows my good deeds, my unselfish moments, and the times I truly acted with altruistic motives - even if no one else notices. He loves me. He  loves me when I am living my Christian faith and He loves me when I fail. So, what do I think I have to prove?


Like most everyone, I want people to like me. I want them to think good things of me. I want to be thought of as a good employee, a good friend, a good spouse, a good mother. Those wants encompass a lot of work and keep me in a constant state of worry, self criticism, and self promotion. And I don't need to do any of it.

What I keep forgetting is simple.

April 16, 2013

What Is That?


 I must admit I have created some rather memorable recipes when too tired to think, like the time I used cinnamon instead of chili powder in the taco meat.  I can’t describe how that smelled. Even the dog wouldn’t eat it.

Do you know baking soda foams when substituted for cornstarch in sauces? It looks something akin to Mt. Vesuvius the second it hits the pan, and it not only removes odors from the refrigerator. It also neutralizes all flavors.  I am not sure how to describe what it, but it certainly wasn’t Oriental Pepper Steak, and no, I didn’t bother to offer any to the dog.   


When I accidentally substituted the baking powder with baking soda in the tempura batter, it didn’t foam, but to this day, my husband swears the shrimp bit back.  

This wouldn't be a complete list without mentioning Pork Chips, or Biscuit Cookies. 

Lesson? I always, always have a back-up plan on my busy, tired days.  Hungry families tend to be grumpy and with a meal fail which can escalate to something really ugly. 

If you'd like to read the rest, I am a guest over at 777 Peppermint Place. Hop on over and join in on the rest of the fun! 

April 14, 2013

I Wish I Had the Video

It was one of those moments when you really regret that you don't own a video recorder.

New snow fell during the night, coating everything in that beautiful blanket of white. It wasn't really a  good consistency for cross country skiing, but my late husband, Shannon, and I were too eager to try out my new skis to wait for better conditions. We loaded up the gear and the dogs, Iger and Freida, and headed out to the mountains.

April 06, 2013

Love Not Sleep

I have not posted in awhile. I've been sloughing off on a vow, playing Jonah, and this week, God put me in the belly of the whale. I have a project He wants me to complete, one I have fought with Him over for years.

In the Why I Write Tab, I describe some of God's motivational techniques to keep me on track, among which have been lions, odd coincidences, and weird phone calls.

February 09, 2013

Does It Really Matter?

Does it really matter? That question haunted me all afternoon, triggered by tests of patience, and insults to my ego. The cranky driver on my commute (I see a lot of them on the evening commute), the testy, rude co-worker. These are my Achilles heel. The incidents that worm their way into my emotions and ruin my inner peace.

An incident yesterday sparked another wave of What If fantasies. What if I did this? How would that make them feel? Or, what if I did this?

January 27, 2013

Boomerang Prayer

This week I have again struggled with being gracious to those who are inconsiderate and hurtful, not to mention thinking bad thoughts and stressing over world issues. I've allowed myself to get worked up into knots again. Sometimes it is not easy to escape the vortex of emotion when insulted, accused of wrong doing and observing atrocities happening in so  many places to so many people. Sometimes the anger just boils up and takes a long time to settle back down.

January 19, 2013

Swayed By the Wind

Resilience. Adaptability. Tolerance. Capacity for change. All good virtues, right? Except when they go too far and allow for too much tolerance for the wrong kind of changes. It seems we are more easily influenced by negativity or wrong doing than good. At least it seems the wrong things tend to spread more quickly than the good. Bad news, or gossip will circumvent the world faster than a good word or deed, unless it borders on the fantastical.

January 01, 2013

Gosh Awfuls, Jackalopes and Other Tall Tales

I grew up in what is known as the Oregon Outback, Eastern Oregon. My dad is a retired logger, and I spent my childhood in the woods, camped a few miles from where he was working. Most often we were next to a lake or a creek - a wonderful way to spend childhood summers, except for my dad's tall tales.

Not only did we groan at the puns, my sister and I were often the stars of the tale.

One of these occasions, we were camped about a thirty-minute drive from the town of Silver Lake, up in the Gearheart Wilderness area. My father announced we were going to town for a Tube Steak dinner. All excited we loaded into the pickup truck and headed down the mountain. We never noticed the twinkle in his eyes, or the wink he gave the waitress when he placed our order. We waited impatiently for our Tube Steaks to arrive, unaware we were being duped.



 The waitress finally returned with plates piled high with French fries and something familiar looking in a bun. I looked at my sister and she looked at me. We shrugged, made faces at our dad and ate our steaks and fries.We notched this tale right up there with his stories of Jackalopes (a cross between a Jackrabbit and an antelope) and Gosh Awfuls.

Now the Gosh Awful is a horrible creature who lives in the woods and preys on unsuspecting girls walking alone along any of the trails, night or day. In an unguarded moment  he springs from his hiding place and does Gosh Awful things, like tickling, or Indian hair rubs, or saying, "BOO", and causing said girls to run screaming.

And, added to this, all of my dad's tall stories started out with, "When I was a little girl...." Even at a very early age, we knew better.

Then of course, there were the road trips. My dad read the road signs and made comments.

"Slow Children must go to the Slow School."

"Speed [for] 50 miles."

"It is very likely we will drive through the town of Likely."

In Death Valley. "250 feet below sea level. Better hold your breath."

At the Grand Canyon. "Golly what a gully."


There were many more, but I can't recall all of them (or have space to write them). 

Then, there were the mosquito stories like the poor logger unmercifully attacked at a local sawmill. He raced for cover in an unused metal sawdust burner. In their zeal to get the man, the mosquitoes drove their proboscis right through the metal. Finding a discarded hammer, the man pounded their snouts flat like nails. There were so many mosquitoes, they flew off the with the building and the man. He was never seen again

There are a lot of mosquitoes in the area. The town of Paisley has a Mosquito festival every year. (I'm not kidding.)

There were also Poodle cookies and Mongrel cookies. Poodle cookies don't shed, but the Mongrels do.

While driving through Goldfield, Nevada we stopped at the Green Frog grocery for cookies. I was a little worried when I had to blow the dust off the packages to read the labels. My dad assured us a little age would only enhance their flavor, like good wine. My sister and I were a little skeptical, but agreed to buy both Poodle and Mongrel cookies. After all, we didn't want to discriminate. 

My dad suggested we stop at the diner for pie and save the cookies for later. It was the first time I had seen blueberry pie snap back together when I tried to cut it. My dad agreed the pie, and the waitress, might both have been left over from the 1880 Gold Rush.

Jokes aside, I've stood in virgin timber, watched sunrises over lakes and creeks, sunsets from mountain tops above a sea of unbroken forest stretching from horizon to horizon. I've been to every national park and historical site from the Pacific Ocean to Tennessee. I've learned to love nature, books, art, and history thanks to my father, sick puns, practical jokes, tall tales, and all. 







Thus Far He Has Helped Us

Although there is nothing magical about January 1, as it is only a man made date on a calendar, we have over the centuries attributed it to new beginnings.  We make new resolutions, we plan, and we hope.

With so many changes in our world and our society, this new year brings more anxiety and I struggle with hope. The escalating tragedies, the fiscal cliff, the threat of higher taxes, another personal financial blow, uncertainty with my job (still working in a temp position), and on and on goes the list.


Then, I opened Streams in the Desert for December 31.

"Thus far the Lord has helped us. (Samuel 7:12.)  

The Lord who "thus far" has helped you
Will help you all your journey through. 

And He has. I can look back not only over last year, but the year before and the year before that and back as far as I can remember. He has helped me. Comforted during the hard times, always offering hope for a brighter tomorrow. The hard times were only for a time, not a lifetime. This blog has many, many posts describing miracles and Divine interventions. Why would I believe He would stop helping me now? 

I fall into this trap when I take my eyes off Him and look at my circumstances. Like Peter walking to the Lord on the water, when I take my eyes off Him, I see only the impossibility of my circumstances. I become afraid and begin to sink under their burdens. Our compassionate God reaches down, grasps my hand, and encourages me to look up. 

And so, instead of a single word for this New Year, I prefer a scriptural quote: "Thus far the Lord has helped us." And, I can take that to the bank, literally.