Category: Blog Article

I had been on my feet only moments before and even now I was still standing in my physical body, but inwardly the unexpected punch of words had knocked me down. I had no words to speak back, and they weren’t ready to be received in this moment had I offered any. The blow was surprising but I brushed myself off quickly and replanted my spiritual feet. I was in a fight and I knew it but there was no way I was going down a second time.

Strategy came quickly, say nothing to agree with my enemy’s voice. I heard him circling around me and trying to poke at me to see where I was weak. This was a new move for him but not one I couldn’t recognize in a matter of moments. I could hear his pathetic whining longing to draw me into making a wrong move. I firmly held my place, keeping my gloves ever ready, my eyes and ears wary for his next move. The taunts he brought no longer swayed me to drop my arms in discouragement. In the background I heard the bell ring, this round I had won!

Psalms 46:1  God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble

We had to hit the store late this evening and as I hung out in the background, our cashier started to spill everything she knew about the woman and child who had just left her line. I couldn’t help but watch her intently while she talked so knowledgably about this person who was clearly not family. She made eye contact with us as she talked but not once did she reveal anything of herself, it was all things she knew about others.

I have become more cautious in my chatter these days but not because I don’t know things about others. My caution is in respecting the lives that are lived around me, and which I am so often blessed to be a part of. Something about my spilling every detail of their personal lives would seem to dishonor knowing them at all.

Pro 2:11  Discretion will preserve you; understanding will keep you

My job deals with other people’s money and a whole lot of customer service. For all my good intentions I can be pushed too far by the relentless in nature. Some days I feel like a stone being polished by the grit and sandiness of others and it’s all I can do to stand fast. My confession however are the moments I “snap” under the duress. In time’s past my mouth would have let fly with all kinds of obscenities and nowadays I tend to just be firm and forthright. If I start to boil too much, that’s the time I take a drive turning up the stereo as loud as possible so I can’t possibly hear a phone ring.

I still have much to ponder about the verse which talks about us being living stones. My rough rock has too many moments when I just want to roll right over some people! Yeah, I’m still a work in progress.

1 Pet 2:5   you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ

Alone in the early morning hours, I seek my Lover

I long to hear His voice whisper into my ear

To see myself in His eyes of fire

I thirst for His living waters

I hunger for His bread

Come my Holy One and intertwine my heart with Yours

Your name I sing out

Wanting to be heard in Your courts

I am restless in the waiting place

My lamp is lit with Your fresh oil

I command my soul be still

I lay my face against the cool floor

Resting in Your peace

Moving in Your grace

I will behold Your beauty

The Carpenters sung about “rainy days and Mondays always get me down”. I can remember more than a few Monday’s had me agree with this sentiment. This Monday morning was certainly cold and wet but still it was a gift to wake up to have another day to explore. A friend reminded me today of how precious time is. I have always felt that way too but something about the words shared burrowed deep into my heart.

As I look out the window at the rain drops falling I wonder what kind of memories are being made for others this day?

“You are what you eat.” A statement most associate with food and weight but this is not really the truth that matters. We all feed ourselves with what we crave up until we learn perhaps our cravings are unhealthy. Even in the face of that reality, some persons choose to ignore still.

I was once required to write a thesis paper about social relevance. My topic was quite easily chosen because I remember seeing firsthand the deliberateness of teaching our children to be desensitized to violence. My paper was basically written about cartoons.

In cartoons of old, the theme of violence had a detached and unrealistic nature to them, i.e. they used animals to convey messages of destruction and inevitably the receiving target merely showed up as having charred fur but still lived to make our acquaintance again.

Through cartoons however, the measure of violence acceptable to children’s minds was seriously ramped up with the introduction of “anime” which grew beyond using animal subjects, to taking our youth’s minds into the realm of animated persons. Suddenly it became okay to show regular violence in a more realistic format….human against human.

It has been some time since I wrote my thesis paper and I am sad to say my A+ grade was on target. It cuts into my heart that I am a witness to evidence for being right. We may not care what we eat but our children are regurgitating what they have been fed.

When I was in my late teens I was living in Japan and spent a great deal of time seeking solace upon a favorite beach, watching both sunrises and sunsets. I used to wonder a great deal about my life; what it had been, what it was and what it was to become? Listening to the waves speak was like hearing my own soul. Sometimes I was at peace and they were gentle to my ears, and other times they reflected my inner turmoil like a storm with continuous crashing against the rocks.

I miss regular walks on the beach but my reflective nature has never left me. My emotions can still be varied but I am learning not to be tossed about in the waves of my life like I’m caught in the undertow. I prefer to rest and ride the wave as best I can. It’s not easy and some days I feel ripped up by the undercurrents but breaking the surface once more I take in deep breaths of air, realizing I have survived to ride yet another wave.

Mentally I am the surfer in search of the perfect wave to ride clear into the beach, finally arriving in one “peace”.

Valentine’s day messages are all the rage in emails, television ads and every grocery isle where space was made to decorate with red and pink roses. I was left a special message to be happy this day by my loving husband. His tender heart makes my own ache with love and I am ever thoughtful about how blessed my life has been with him by my side.

Love spoken to one another is so sweet to hear but it’s our actions that really carry the memory and impact of what love means. I myself am learning how real love means to live outside of your own desires. To live for others and to act upon your love for them in ways that are costly to yourself.

I was thinking I would pick up one of those long stemmed roses today and carry it with me as a reminder of such beauty with a delightful fragrance. I want to be reminded that my life can be a rose offered up to the Lord this day.

Eph 5:2   and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God

There was a song in the seventies called “Anticipation” written and sung by Carly Simon and although I don’t remember all the lyrics I do recall it moaning, “anticipation, it’s keeping me waiting”. That has to be the line for our very lives today.

A restlessness is stirring me in places I cannot define but I just know I am unable to sit still for long; yet no matter how much I am moving, I am still in that place of waiting.

Pr 8:34 Blessed is the man who listens to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway.

/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:”Table Normal”;
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:””;
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:”Times New Roman”;
mso-ansi-language:#0400;
mso-fareast-language:#0400;
mso-bidi-language:#0400;}

I stopped at the side door and just shook my head. It was a deluge outside and I wondered at the timing of this recent release. I had no coat with me, nor an umbrella. I had actually been hoping the weather would hold so I could take a walk alone on some trail. With a final resolve I shoved the door open and started to hurry to my car, but slowing my steps the rain pelted me. Looking at my sleeves I could see it wasn’t just rain but like snow cone ice slush. Part of me wanted to stand there and let it soak me; however I worked in a building with three stories of office windows. Eccentric is welcome, crazy might be suspect.

The drive home was the usual stop go action between the fool hardy and the overly cautious. My mind was already spinning to fulfill a desire. With so much going on inwardly all I wanted this hour was to feel something outward. The clouds were still pouring out a steady rain so as I neared my home I took advantage of the stop lights to take off my shoes and socks. I tucked away my phone and Bluetooth, not so much to protect them but more that I wouldn’t be interrupted.

Coasting into my driveway I remembered to turn my stereo down so “the man” wouldn’t know I was home and try to rush me inside in his gentlemanly fashion. This moment was for me alone. I opened the car door and put my bare foot on the wet cement. It was exquisitely cold so I quickly hopped out the door so both of my feet could enjoy the sensation together. I scooted around the front of my car which I had tried to park in such a way to give me some privacy.

When I was sure I was alone from prying eyes, I stood still letting the rain cover me. I could feel each drop on my head, through my clothes, tapping my arms, legs and the tops of my bare feet. I wanted to feel more so I extended my arms out from my side with my palms up letting this water run between my fingers. When this wasn’t enough I turned my hands over and let myself be touched more by this precious wetness from heaven. Needing more still, I let my face look upwards into the clouds until I couldn’t keep my eyes open, my hair was getting heavy with this rain. This was just the kind of soaking I needed to make me “feel” touched by the heavens.