Rescued

Original photo by Cecilia Marie Pullaim

Galatians 1:4.  “…who gave Himself for our sins so that He might rescue us from this present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father…”

I’ve been rescued more times than I can relate. Even when I had to endure the flames of severe trials, Jesus walked with me and saw me safely to the other side.

But it isn’t just the physical evils he’s rescued me from. He’s also saved me from myself.

Just this week, I was whining like a four-year-old about dealing with fallen leaves on top of the other chores. It’s not a small task. Two trees alone will drop enough leaves to fill eighty 50 gallon trash bags. With twenty more trees, you get the picture.  

I was also moaning about cooking multiple meals. Since my doctor put me on a sodium-restricted diet, I fix two dishes for every meal. While I can’t blame my husband for not wanting to share my restrictive diet, the extra cooking and added clean up gets old. Added to the yard chores, I felt overwhelmed. 

However, the Holy Spirit reminded me I’d rather clean up the leaves once a year than not have the trees. So true! I love their beauty and the shade they provide. The first thing I drew as a young artist was a tree. Also, I have good tools to help with the task. A riding mower with a towable lawn sweeper. No raking, except for the areas the tractor can’t reach.

He also pointed out I’d rather cook double than cook for only one. Been there and would rather not be in that position again. As my husband recovers from his knee surgery, he’s helping with more and more chores. See, it’s better already. I just needed a change in perspective.

Dear Lord, I cannot thank you enough for all the times you’ve rescued me, especially from myself. Amen. 

There's No Crying in Baseball

I originally posted this back in 2013. It popped up in my FB memories, and I realized I still have the habit to some extent.

February 23rd, 2013.

This past week was filled with the usual challenges, perceived injustices, and concerns. I responded in my usual manner - the movie scenarios. I mentally created a script, scene by scene, where I was exonerated or the offender saw the light, corrected their misbehavior and apologized. Childish, yes. 

I have grown up some. I never seek revenge in my little scripts. I don't wish the perpetrators ill. No, just a scene wherein we mend the rift -  see how good I am trying to be? (I know, I still have a lot of growing to do and trust me, I am working on it.)

These little self indulgent movies always end in prayer, asking God for help in putting things into the proper perspective and to help me act out of love and compassion rather than from ego. And God usually answers that prayer, sometimes immediately. 

After a series of challenges, blows to my self esteem, I hid out in the bathroom (the only room where I can truly be alone,) and tearfully asked God why I deserved what had just happened. Didn't every one know how hard I tried? Didn't they care how I felt? 

The Not So Golden Moments of Retirement

It’s finally here, retirement. After months of planning and dreaming, the day has come, but my first few weeks weren’t the joy-filled, do-whatever-I want-time I thought it would be. Of course, I expected there would be obligations, tasks and chores, what I did not anticipate was being ill, needing a skin biopsy, and having partial laryngitis. Add in a computer crash, garbage disposal on the fritz, brand new dryer making odd noises, and a jammed tailgate on the truck. Sounds like too much fun, doesn’t it?

Retirement has been my golden egg, the place of peace and contentment, less stress ― in my imagination. I knew there would be bumps and a few rough places, but I figured those would be spaced a bit, not slam me right off the bat.