The Power of One

I’ve been on this merry-go-round many times, unable to come to terms with the needs of so many and my limited resources. I can’t seem to get passed the guilt of having so much while others have little, and yet what I have to share is barely a drop compared to the numbers of people needing help.

The old saying that charity begins at home means to start with my husband and family, and then spread out to others, but the number is so small. Is helping one person, or a few, enough?

As if in response to my question, this scripture verse flashed through my thoughts. “If a man has a hundred sheep, and one goes astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine in the mountains and seek that which has gone astray?” Matthew 18:12.

Photo by Pexels from Pixabay

There is my answer. If God cares for enough for one to leave the rest and search for one lost soul, then yes, even just one matters.

That thought spiraled to the story of the starfish.

One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean.

Approaching the boy, he asked, “What are you doing?”

The youth replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean. The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.”

“Son,” the man said, “don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? You can’t make a difference!”

After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish, and threw it back into the surf.

Then, smiling at the man, he said, “I made a difference for that one.”

Original story by Loren Eisley

The devil wants me to be overwhelmed with the sheer number of needy souls, stymied into inaction. He doesn’t want me to know that although I may not help thousands of souls like Mother Teresa, I can make a difference — even if it is just one.  

Thank you, Lord, for showing me the power of one. 

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. 

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 14^th 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.  

Posadas

Photo: OZphotography@FreeDitgitalPhotos.net                    

During this season of Advent there are many scriptural references to the blind seeing, the lame walking, and the poor feasting. It’s a beautiful, comforting image, for who among us has not suffered? Even those born of privilege suffer. They may not worry about food, clothing, and shelter as do the very poor, but they suffer in other ways.

When we lived in a wealthier area, people were polite, civil, but mostly cold. They didn’t go out of their way to say, hello, or even acknowledge my existence. I think they knew instinctively by my dress, my mannerism, or by some other secret code, that I wasn’t one of them.

Tending toward being an introvert, I didn’t much care. However, when we moved out further into an area with a bigger mix of economic strata, I experienced a radical change in the people around me. There were more smiles, hellos, and Good Afternoons. People I didn’t know chatted in the aisles, and helped load large items into my car.

One man actually chased my husband and me down in the parking lot of one of the garden centers.

Is Home truly where the heart is?

What if your heart is in two different places? I love our home here in Idaho. The house has many aesthetic features I never thought I’d own and the Treasure Valley is beautiful as well. Boise is known as The City of Trees and is edged by the Boise and the Owyhee Mountains. The climate is mild, relatively speaking for a northwestern area. We have almost two hundred days of sunshine a year. Considering we do have three months of winter, that’s a lot of sunshine.

The other plus, Idaho doesn’t harbor painful memories as my hometown in Oregon does. I don’t drive around a corner and get slapped in the face by a reminder of one of many heartaches. Both the climate and the environment is healthier for me here in the Treasure Valley of Idaho.

However, my closest friends and family are in Oregon, a seven-hour drive through deserts and mountains without the benefit of a freeway and very few towns. The distance is marked in hours from one landmark to another. It is a trip no one takes on a regularly, only once a year, maybe twice at best.

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.

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.