December 31, 2017

Beside Restful Waters


I have always loved Psalm 23, the green pastures and restful waters. Those have taken on new meaning in our new home. A few steps in any direction and I can sit beside gurgling creeks or still ponds, surrounded by verdant pastures.

However, even in Idyllic surroundings, life can become complicated and worrisome.

Since the year 2009, I have been without health care insurance and have put off preventive exams due to the expense. Since turning a certain age and I now have insurance, my doctor has scheduled the tests. My brain went into overdrive. What if?

Streams in the Desert quoted 1 Samuel 7:12: “Thus far the Lord has helped us.”

He has helped through financial struggles, health issues, and personal challenges. He has provided compassion, strength, wisdom, and a miracle or two. Will he not continue? 

“For though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will fear no evils, for thou art with me.”


December 23, 2017

Christmas Optimist, Pessimist, Idealist, or Realist?

We idolize the holidays, believing this special season changes the entire world and everything and everyone in it. Like Chuck Griswold, we become overly optimistic, believing in the ideal of the perfect family Christmas. Life is built on the imperfect, and we are usually greatly disappointed for one reason or another when our expectations are too high or unrealistic. Then we become pessimists at best and Scrooges at worst. I suggest something else - a true Optimist. An idealist who recognizes and acknowledges flaws, but chooses to focus on what is right, rather than what is wrong.

In the well known story, two boys were placed in separate rooms. One filled with every imaginable toy, the other with manure. After an hour observers went to each room to see the boys' reactions. Sure enough, the Pessimist could only complain. Nothing was right. Every toy had a flaw or defect. Noting this, the observers moved to the next room. To their amazement the Optimist was busy digging in the manure. They asked him what he was doing. His answer, "With this much manure, there has to be a horse in here somewhere!"

This holiday season will not be Courier and Ives perfect, not with family scattered across several states and cities and the usual dynamics causing conflicts and misunderstandings, or other concerns trying to push their way in to spoil it. It will be somewhere between A Christmas Story and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and with a little effort some What A Wonderful Life mixed in, filled with more blessings than I can count. 

I will go one step further. Those visitors on that first Christmas could have chosen to see only a poor family and a cold, dirty stable, but instead they saw the glory of God and the Salvation of Man, Emanuel - God With Us. 

Merry Christmas. May your holidays be blessed with love and joy in whatever form they take. 

December 01, 2017

What Would You Have Me Do, Lord?

Every so often we writers get into slumps and question why we write. Does it matter?

I fell into this trap yesterday. Re-editing the three books in my series for inclusion into a set, has been more daunting than I expected. It has also been humbling. How could I publish such drivel? Who would want to read it? So, why bother?

Unlike other times these thoughts have plagued me, I turned to prayer, asking God what He would have me do. He answered.

As has happened before, I have confused my listed readings and read one meant for another date, and there was my answer.

For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord, shall be saved. How then shall they call on him, in whom they have not believed? Or how shall they believe him, of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach if they have not been sent, as it is written: How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, of them that bring glad tidings of good things? But all do not obey the gospel. For Isaias said: ‘Lord, who hath believed our report? Faith then cometh by hearing; and hearing by the word of Christ. But I say: Have they not heard? Yes, verily, their sound hath gone forth into all the earth, and their words unto the ends of the whole world.’”
Romans 10:13-18

Once before God told me to write my stories that through them others might believe. (See Lions, Why I Write) One reader messaged me sometime back. “Your book is answering many of my questions.” How easy it is to forget those words, encumbered with the drudgery of writing and editing.

And so, I press on, doing the physical work of sharing His Word through stories, leaving the rest in His hands. Seems rather fitting as we enter the season of Advent. By sharing our stories peppered with His Word we become like St. John the Baptist a “voice of one crying in the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord, as said the prophet Isaias.”

John 1:23

November 18, 2017

Holding Tighter or Letting Go?


“The first author of beauty made all things,” Wisdom 13:3.  Author, that caught my attention. This theme continued in the rest of my devotions. 

Psalm 19: “There are no speeches nor languages, where their voices are not heard. Their sound has gone forth into all the earth: and their words unto the ends of the world.” Verses 4 and 5.

What author doesn’t hope that will happen to them? 

Then came the words, “Whoever seeks to preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life, will save it.” Luke 17:33

Eek! 

I am wallowing in grand dreams of becoming a best-selling author, and God brings me up short.

In my devotion, Living Faith, Author Amy Welborn, asked how we intend to lose our lives for God. This isn’t meant in the literal sense, as in physically dying, but in what we are asked to lose in order to follow God’s plan for our life.

Writing takes tremendous sacrifice. We spend hours in solitary confinement sitting at a desk with pen and paper, laptop, or computer. One of my former coworkers, a traditionally published author, with looming deadlines couldn’t participate in the company Christmas party or attend her grandchildren’s Christmas pageants. Even Indie authors face similar sacrifices, often faced with unpleasant choices without happy solutions.

There are more than physical losses. We bare our souls on each page, letting go of our privacy, revealing our innermost thoughts, desires, and fears. We could hold them tight, and let our stories suffer, but by letting go, our words (hopefully) encourage, inspire, or entertain. Lightening another’s burden by pulling them away from their troubles for a short time is as important as writing the next literary classic, maybe even more so. When overwhelmed with insurmountable problems, who wants to read War and Peace? (No offense intended to that great work or its author.)

No. I think most will reach for something that will make them feel better, either by telling them they are not alone, they are loved, they are good enough, or by offering them a reason to laugh.

A noble cause, worth the sacrifice, which brings us right back to letting go of ourselves and other things and be the storyteller God calls us to be, holding tight to our faith, our dedication, and our promise to obey.


November 12, 2017

Lighting Our Lamps


Now that the days are shorter, I take Cooper, our little Brittany, outside in the dark, morning and evening. My flashlight is a necessity. So, it was appropriate that my Gospel reading for today told the story of the virgins and their lamps waiting for the bridegroom.

In my devotional, Living Faith, author Patricia Livingston suggested a new twist. She used the imagery of faith. We can run out of oil, wearied by too much responsibility and not enough quiet time. Rather than being selfish, it replenishes, allowing our light to burn brighter.

Streams in the Desert, also had an excellent example. Our spiritual life is like a garden. The more we tend it, the more beautiful it becomes. Perhaps our neighbor will decide to improve his own. Frantic busyness doesn’t accomplish anything other than to prevent refilling our spirits.

As I walked out in the country dark this morning, the stars were a brilliant canopy of light. I even saw a meteor. Later, while back inside my warm house, dawn shimmered along the eastern mountains, first in hues of rose, then gold. The wind stilled, and so did my racing thoughts.

God doesn’t need my constant chatter. Sometimes, a quiet silence offers as much praise as a litany of prayers. Done often enough, it will take root and grow, keeping my lamp lit regardless of how long the bridegroom tarries.





November 01, 2017

The Best Fix for a Broken Heart





God did not promise us a life without suffering. Quite the opposite as he commanded that we take up our cross and follow him.

However, he didn’t leave us alone to flounder in our agony. He gave us the blueprint for joy amid our sorrows. This popped up in my memories on Facebook this morning. 
It seems life often spirals in circles with old wounds reopened long after you thought they had healed. In truth, we bear the scars of many wounds, and the right circumstances can open them again.
I had already vowed to put others before myself before I read this reminder. God merely confirmed my plan in His usual manner, a personal message where and when I least expect it.
So, in response to a fresh wave of sorrow, I am doubling my efforts to be a better wife, mother, and friend, putting others first. It will work. When we focus outside ourselves, our sorrows fade to the background.
Isn’t this what Christ told us to do? “For the first will be last and the last will be first.” “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Then he led by example, sacrificing himself for our us.  
 


October 15, 2017

Lions and Unicorns


In other words, save me from my enemies, both physical and imaginary.

Our imaginations can sometimes do far more damage than real enemies, creating scenarios that will never happen, tainting our days with fears and anxieties that never materialize. Small hurts and injustices become massive pits of sorrow, books of over the top self-sacrificing scenarios which will never (and should never) be written. Thank goodness. Who would want to read an epic sob story? Whereas, stories of heroic self-sacrifice lift our spirits and encourage us. The difference? In the inspiring stories, the hero’s goal is to overcome the difficulty, not wallow in it.

At least my imagined scenarios only go so far. After conjuring up the lowest possible point my life could reach, my faith kicks in.  God will preserve and rescue me. Always.

If only God and I remained, it would be enough. I do believe that. And so, faith pulls me back from the brink, spins me around, and shows me how much I have to be thankful for.

I doubt Daniel worried too much about fanciful problems when he faced the hungry lions. He didn’t lay there, immobile and terrified, imagining all the horrors that might befall him. No. He immediately turned his thoughts toward God in prayer.

“My God has sent his angel, and shut the mouths of the lions, and they have not hurt me.” Daniel 7:22

If He can shut the mouths of lions, will He not also drive away the unicorns if I ask Him?

October 11, 2017

If I Knew Then What I Know Now...



Some have posed the question, “If you could go back to high school, would you?” 
For myself, no.  I don’t want to go back and live my life over. Once is enough. 
Another popular question, “If you could give advice to your younger self, what would it be?”
I would tell my younger self, “Don’t be anxious over things not in your control. Everything will work out one way or the other. If it is the other, you’ll survive.” 
Oh, but would she listen, even to that? I doubt it.
I have let go most of my worries only because I have walked through the fires and experienced God’s miracles. Had I not suffered and God had not rescued me, would my faith have grown? Would I be able to give my troubles to God and leave them there, along with the anxiety and fear? 
I still fall now and then into that dark abyss, but not as often or for as long. Most dismal circumstances can lead to immense good. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. And I believe. 
No wonder Jesus said, “Blessed are they who have not seen, and have believed.” 
"So, my younger self, don’t fret. Don’t worry. Trust God and do the best you can with the knowledge and experience you have, and most of all, forgive. Forgive others and then forgive yourself. God has, and you should too."


September 27, 2017

Money, Money, Money


For the first time in my life, I feel wealthy. I know the few thousand we garnered after selling our home is not real wealth, but it sure feels like it. For the first time in my adult life I need not count every penny, or wonder if I can buy toothpaste before payday.

However, it’s a fleeting security. I am only one disaster away from losing it all.

But, I am not worried, nor am I fretting. God has rescued me from financial catastrophes, health crises, and other troubles when there didn’t seem to be a way. Why should He stop now? It is Him I need to trust, not a savings account. Yet, it could be easy to fixate on that number, coveting it above all other things.

People often misquote St. Paul. He did not say money is the root of all evil. In 1 Timothy 6:10 he states, “For the desire of money is the root of all evils; which some coveting have erred from the faith and have entangled themselves in many sorrows.”

Psalm 48:7,8,11-12 continues with this: “They that trust in their own strength and glory in the multitude of their riches, no -brother can redeem... And they shall leave their riches to strangers...”

I want to be a good steward of the abundance God has blessed me with, but I will not become attached to it, at least I am praying I don’t. I need to trust The Provider and not that which He provided. It is an object no one should worship, hoard, or covet. Those are the sins of wealth St. Paul warns against. 

Diamonds are not a girl’s best friend. God is.

September 20, 2017

When a Planner Marries a Panster...


These two personalities pose a few challenges in a marriage, or any close relationship. A planner likes things, well, planned. They like to know what to expect, stay organized, and be prepared. They can be rigid and stuffy if they don’t allow some flexibility.

A panster likes to swing it, be spontaneous, go with the flow, fly by the seat of their pants. They are usually easy going and fun to be around, until their lack of planning leads to a crisis or disaster.

One case in point, a wedding. Spontaneity is great until other people’s schedules (like magistrates) don’t match up with the panster’s scheme. My panster husband almost blew the wedding by not mentioning it to our travel agent until almost too late. Bless the woman, after her initial heart attack, she managed to get it arranged.

On the other hand, a planner tends to over plan, over schedule, and end up frustrating herself and her partner.

Compromise is the key. The planner agrees to ditch the schedule, except for important things, and the panster agrees to a plan for the important events. Now both can enjoy the impromptu day trips, dinners, movies, and other fun things, and not feel panicked or feel overwhelmed.

Thus, this planner did not pester her panster with thousands of questions over morning coffee. He responded by announcing plans to take care of a few tasks, at some point during the day.

Fair enough.

Which are you? A  planner or a panster?




September 11, 2017

Closed Hearts

Although  I have encountered some who seem to flit through life without a scratch, their worst experiences being small inconveniences and annoyances (compared to financial crises, health issues, and the deaths of loved ones), most of us have been in that dark place Saint John of the Cross called, the black night of the soul, at least once, if not more.

A dear friend wrote about this condition in her new novella, Ice Melts in Spring (soon to be released). I won’t give away any spoilers, but will say only this, Linda Yezak hit the essence of these dark moments right in the heart, literally.  Her heroine doesn’t see God’s hand in her suffering because anger and bitterness have closed her heart to His presence.  She is spiritually blind. The key to opening her heart? Forgiveness.

The author describes the moment God lifted those burdens from her character, nailing the weightlessness and the joy.

My heart goes out to all those with closed hearts. May they see God's hand in every aspect of their lives, especially the painful and confusing times when life seems unbearable, and their first inclination is to end the pain in whatever way they can.

Lord, please comfort them, give them joy, and most importantly, hope.  Hope for a better tomorrow and a jubilant eternity to come.  Amen.




September 03, 2017

Home

Right on schedule, three years after purchasing what we thought was going to be our last home, I caught my husband looking at houses for sale.

To be honest, I understood why he was house hunting again. The traffic on our street quadrupled after Wal-Mart built a Neighborhood Market a half mile down the street, and the area has grown to the point a two-mile drive takes ten to twenty minutes, depending on the time of day. Still, I dreaded the nightmare of another move — until my husband showed me pictures of the house he was interested in.
We scheduled a viewing.

The moment I stepped out of the car, I knew we had found, home, the place where we could set down roots.

The half-acre property sat alone on a small hill overlooking the Snake River Canyon, rolling hills, and farmland. Fully landscaped in lawn, trees, and shrubs, it was like standing in the midst of a private park.

He didn’t have to convince me to put in an offer.

Yes, it was a nightmare selling our other home, applying for the loan on the new one, and the physical and mental stress of moving, but…

Several coveys of quail pass through the property every day. Ducks, geese, and swallows fly overhead in the evenings. Mourning doves blend their soft coos with a myriad of other songbirds. Butterflies and hummingbirds hover among the flowering shrubs. We saw a doe out front the other evening, and an owl flew across the back lawn. A fox crossed the road in front of us on the way back from town, and the term starry night has taken on a new meaning.

The inside of the house is what I would call Spanish country. The walls have tons of plant shelves and built in niches, a double fireplace, with huge picture windows in every room, wood and tile floors throughout.

The closet town, seven miles away is small, but with enough amenities to supply necessities. A larger town with tons of shopping and medical services is less than a thirty-minute drive, on country roads with little traffic. People are friendly (even at the local DMV).

This morning, amid the usual serenade of doves and killdeer, I heard a Meadowlark, one of the first since leaving my home in Oregon. Its lilting song has always reminded me of what a wonderful world we live in.

The fragrances of sage and pine, along with the sound of rushing creeks transport me back to my happy childhood, a time of family gatherings and celebrations, a time before tragic deaths, misunderstandings, and separations drew us apart.

This isn't just a place to live. It's a home where I can heal from long buried wounds and let go of new ones.

I am not alone with these feelings. I’ve never seen my husband smile this much, or be this happy.

How like God to leave the best for last.  

Thank you, my Heavenly Father, for caring so much. 


This is the my view while writing this post. My warm weather office, a little piece of heaven. 





August 13, 2017

The Fourth Watch

Selling a home, buying a new one, and moving is a nightmare of huge proportions. No wonder it is the third most stressful life event. If I had more faith, the process would not be so heart wrenching, but like Peter walking on water, I looked at my circumstances, doubted and sank beneath the turbulence of documents and time restrictions.

I failed to trust God.

He gave me a promise the first time I stood in the new house.  He swathed in a blanket of warmth and I heard the word, home. We would live in the house for the rest of our lives. Whatever challenges lay ahead were only bumps along the way. All I had to do was trust.

I was like Peter starting out strong, then succumbing to fear. Then, during the fourth watch of the loan process, Matthew 14:22-23 was listed among my devotions. Yes, the story of Peter walking toward Jesus on a stormy sea.

Jesus’ words echoed in my heart. “Oh, you of little faith, why did you doubt?”

In my weakness, I let circumstances overrule my faith.

However, I never stopped clinging, praying, and begging for strength.

We are now in the final phase. In less than a week, it will all be over.


I would like to say I will never doubt God’s word again, but I will. My human frailty will overcome my faith, and I’ll falter. However, there is no need to despair. God will pick me up, dust me off, and carry me the last few steps. Every. Single. Time.

July 25, 2017

What the Devil Doesn’t Want Us to Know

The Devil encourages us to cling to this life with a ferociousness capable of hurting, maiming, or even killing others. Even if we aren’t harming others to survive, we are praying fiercely to preserve our lives and those we love.

God answers our pleas to heal and protect, but selectively. Not everyone wins the heavenly lottery. We mourn for ourselves and for them. They will miss the family gatherings, watching loved ones grow, sunsets and sunrises, walks along the beach, Christmas and the Fourth of July. 

Or will they?

Last Christmas, God granted me a vision. As our pastor read the Gospel, I saw angels surrounding him with Jesus in their midst. The Church disappeared, replaced by my living room. I lay on the floor, dying. Jesus took my hand, lifted my spirit from my body, and with his arm around me, escorted me into Paradise.

I cannot describe what I saw, except to say there are wonders beyond our earthly senses waiting for us. 

With each exclamation of delight, Jesus responded with the same enthusiasm, much as a parent or older brother showing marvels to a younger sibling. 

The Devil doesn’t want me to remember that.

He prefers I worry and fret, believing there is nothing better than this flawed, sorrowful life, and I am an unredeemed, lost soul.

But I am saved, and I need not fear death and what waits for me beyond this life. God has prepared wonders beyond words to describe them. 

When a death occurs, I mourn for the ones left behind, suffering with the physical and emotional pain of separation.

But that’s not where it ends, as the Devil wants us to believe.

The separation is temporary, and our loved ones are not missing out - or suffering.

Accepting their absence does not mean I won’t continue to miss them, but rather than desiring they come back to earth, I will look forward to joining them. After all, God doesn’t want me to live in fear.


The Devil may not want me to know that, but God certainly does, and He will step in with compassionate encouragement through a scripture passage, a word from a friend, or a vision — and sometimes even a miracle. 

July 15, 2017

Wobbling



My husband and I have not lived in a house for more than three years. When he started looking at homes this spring, I set down parameters. The new home had to be spectacular — and our last — or I wasn’t budging. 

Well, I’ve agreed to move. He found our dream home, a little slice of country living close to amenities and lots of outdoor recreation — two hours and another city away. None of that mattered when I stepped inside. Home. The word settled in my heart. This would be our last move.

However, as the challenges of selling and buying rose, I wobbled, terrified we wouldn’t pull this one off. 

I turned to my devotions for encouragement.

Living Faith for July 14th quoted Genesis 46:3. “God said to him [Jacob], I am the most mighty God of thy father: fear not, go down into Egypt, for I will make a great nation of thee there.”
Fitting words considering the new house is south of us. 

The devotion also listed Psalm 37: 3-4, 39-40: “Trust in the Lord, and do good, and dwell in the land, and thou shalt be fed with its riches. Delight in the Lord, and he will give thee the requests of thy heart… But the salvation of the just is from the Lord, and he is their protector in the time of trouble. And the Lord will help them and deliver them: and he will rescue them from the wicked, and save them, because they have hoped in him.”

Another reading quoted Psalm 91: 1-4, 14-15: “He that dwells in the aid of the most High, shall abide under the protection of the God of Jacob. He shall say to the Lord: Thou art my protector, and my refuge: my God, in him will I trust. For he hath delivered me from the snare of the hunters: and from the sharp word. He will overshadow thee with his shoulders: and under his wings thou shalt trust… Because he hoped in me I will deliver him: I will protect him because he hath known my name. He shall cry to me, and I will hear him: I am with him in tribulation, I will deliver him, and I will glorify him.”

If that wasn’t enough, the Gospel reading was from Matthew 10: 29-31: “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And not one of them shall fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: better are you than many sparrows.”

In the future, I hope I won’t wobble when faced with a mountain of challenges, but the flesh is weak, no matter how determined the spirit. Thankfully, God has infinite patience, compassion, and resources to rescue me — even from myself.  

July 02, 2017

The Other Woman



In 2 Kings 4:8-37, death claims a woman's only son. Reading about her grief dredged up memories of my husband’s death. I spent months languishing in sorrow, wishing God had taken me too. 

Unlike this woman's son, God didn't send a prophet to raise my husband from the dead. In fact, my husband returned in a dream. He told me to let him go. My tears and pleas would not bring him back. 

The following day, I made an appointment for a  haircut and dragged myself out of the house.  

The woman in the next chair was complaining about her house renovations. “After all the money we’ve spent redoing the kitchen, the new counter tops don’t match my decor. The contractor insists that’s what we ordered and refuses to change it. It makes me ill to think of shelling out more money to replace them, but I can’t go into the kitchen without bursting into tears.”

After just losing my husband of seventeen years and becoming the sole proprietor of a small business, as well as a single parent, her problem seemed shallow in comparison and I never forgot the conversation.

Now, twenty years later, my current husband and I have listed our house for sale. To my horror, I have become that woman, whining and complaining about small annoyances while others are dealing with horrific problems. How easy it is to lose perspective, caught up in the mundane and often ordinary aspects of our micro-worlds, blowing inconveniences into major tragedies. 

Life can change in a single breath. 

Worrying, even over big things, accomplishes nothing except robbing us of today’s blessings. It is a better use of our energy to be thankful for what we have and to pray for those who are not so lucky.  

Forgive me, Lord, for focusing on my small problems while others suffer. Open my heart, encourage generosity and compassion instead of shallow pleas for personal gifts. Amen.