June 22, 2019

Strength from Weakness Despite the Devil


Photo by Prettysleepy2 @ Pixabay
Once again I considered unpublishing the first book in my series. I’ve struggled with this story from its conception and have re-edited and re-published it too many times to count. But before I jumped in and did something I might regret, I skimmed the manuscript. Maybe I could salvage it if I did one more edit even though doing so would mean another long delay in finishing book five. Was that what the devil wanted, to keep me mired down with doubts and fears and stop me from writing?

It turned out the book wasn’t as bad as I remembered. The last edit improved the writing enough to leave it as it is — for now. Doubts and fear will creep back, and I’ll march down this same path again unless I can find some way of getting off that merry-go-round.  

Matthew 6:24-34, one of my favorite scriptures, popped up in my devotions. Consider the lilies, don’t worry, don’t be afraid. God knows what we need. Trust him.

Trust...

That reminded me of the book I’m reading. It is a savage fight between good and evil, and I expect the worst outcome with each new peril the characters face. I almost put the book down until I realized the author intends to get the heroine out of trouble, and I should read out of curiosity rather than fear.

The same goes with everything else in my life, especially my writing. If I can’t trust the ultimate Author to come up with a solution to whatever I'm facing, who can I trust?

So, I press on, pushing past those emotions the devil throws at me and take courage from St. Paul’s words in Corinthians 2:7-10.

“And lest the greatness of the revelations should exalt me, there was given me a sting of my flesh, an angel of Satan to buffet me. For which thing thrice I besought the Lord, that it might depart from me. And he said to me: My grace is sufficient for thee: for power is made perfect in infirmity. Gladly therefore will I glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may dwell in me. For which cause I please myself in my infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distress, for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am powerful.”




June 17, 2019

Seventeen Years Ago...



My husband and I were married in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, a fairy tale wedding and honeymoon with African drums, roaring lions, massive waterfalls, night skies blazing with starlight, tall tales told around a crackling campfire, and rings from a South African diamond emporium. Strange-sounding names, Limpopo, Chiredzi, Zambezi, Zambia and Botswana. Sunset cruises on the river with champagne and appetizers. A helicopter ride over the falls. Elephants, buffalo, zebra, giraffe, monkeys, kudu, impala, wart hogs and lions — enough to fill anyone’s dreams.

Settled on our little hillside paradise we listen to coyotes in the evening, dove and quail in the morning. Deer feed on the fruit that fall from the plum and peach trees. Squirrels and birds feast on the ripening cherries. Ducks, geese and pelicans dot the pounds and a nearby river. Two-hundred-foot waterfalls roar a few miles away, not quite the mile wide, three-hundred-foot Victoria Falls, but impressive just the same.

Honey, this more settled retired life may not have the same thrills as our African wedding and honeymoon, (See The Lion Sleeps Tonight - I hope! and African Wedding and Honeymoon), but no matter where we are life is an adventurous paradise as long as I am with you.

Happy Anniversary.   

June 09, 2019

It Made Me Angry - Justifed or Not?

My husband and I watched the movie, The Wind That Shakes the Barley, the story of two Irish brothers working for the IRA during the Irish War of Independence in the 1920s. The brutality of the period  made me angry.

After the film ended, I imagined suitable punishments for those who committed such horrendous injustices and senseless cruelty.

It was hours before I could let the anger go.

Later, after some thought, I realized the movie sparked flashbacks of the abuse I suffered from my ex-husband. I no longer have panic attacks, nightmares, or curl up in a ball in a corner, but the anger still simmers. I vowed to never, never let anyone abuse me or my kids again. Seeing brutality executed on others causes the same knee-jerk anger as if it was being done to me or a loved one.

Part of that is justified. After all, Jesus exhibited righteous anger when he turned over the money changer's tables. However, I discovered my error during my morning meditation and scripture reading.

Acts 16: 33: “These things I have spoken to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you shall have distress: but have confidence, I have overcome the world.”

Mary Marrocco in, Living Faith, added this: “He conquered the world by going toward it, not running away from it; by receiving all the violence, cruelty, and hypocrisy the world can spit out and not giving it back. Rather, he gives back love, peace, and forgiveness. Truly, this is the way our world is conquered.”

My fault lay in desiring revenge instead of justice.

This reminded me of another story.

A man stole blankets from a missionary hostel in China. When the theft was discovered, the woman proprietress went about her daily chores unfazed, even cheerful.

One patron, a Chinese man, asked her, “Are you not angry that the man stole your blankets?”

She shrugged. “He must need them more than we do. Besides, God will provide all we need, even more blankets.”

The man, astounded by her faith, converted to Christianity and became a minister.

God sees everything, and one day the perpetrators of hate and violence will stand before Him and answer for their sins. The judge in me rejoices at that thought, but the penitent wants God to forgive me of all my wrongdoing.

God forgives all sin, and we should also forgive the sinner, but that doesn't mean they, or us, should escape the consequences of our actions. According to our laws, prison is the consequence for harming someone else.

The next time my anger rises, I'll seek prayer first, trusting God will guide me as to when to take a stand, when to put up a fight, and when to stay on my knees. Only then do I have a chance for peace in this broken and brutal world.




June 02, 2019

The Break-In Period

After days of research and reading reviews, we bought a new bed. I couldn't wait for it to be delivered. However, the mattress didn't feel like I thought it would when I first lay on it, a big and expensive disappointment. 

My logical husband suggested we read the paperwork before we decide to return it. 

The company has a very generous return policy and guarantee, but they do encourage new customers to sleep on the mattress for several weeks, giving both the bed and our bodies time to adjust to each other. It's been so long since we bought a new mattress, I forgot about the breaking-in period. (Reviewers had high praise for the mattress - after about a three week adjustment period.) 

So, I'll try to patient and dampen down my desire for instant gratification. 

It seems that is not the only area I need to apply patience. I checked on the results of my vine clearing this morning and already there are new shoots. Stewing over the idea of a continued war with the invasive, aggressive plant, I went back inside, made another cup of coffee, and looked at my emails. 

This was in my Amazon Thursday Kindle Deals. 



This quote from, Streams in the Desert, came to mind. "With God, a patient wait often leads to a happy ending." 

I need to post the quote where I can see it every day: in the kitchen for patience with my new diet, near the bed to remember there is a break-in period, on my writing desk as a reminder it isn't all about sales, on my easel so I don't skip the necessary small details, and in the cabinet where I store my gardening tools. It doesn't do any good to be frustrated with weeds and vines. Patience  and perseverance will win that war too. 

I also need to be patient with my husband's hearing loss. How he got mayonnaise out of lemonade still puzzles me. There was also the time I suggested deli sandwiches for dinner, but he heard jelly and declined, stating he'd rather have deli. 

Sigh. 

But, I doubt he would agree to wearing a sticky note.....