Category: Blog Article

Karl Marx is quoted, “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.” This 19^th century German philosopher and revolutionary thought religion to be a tool of the government to keep its people under control.

I am not a fan of religion myself, and for those who don’t walk in faith this is confusing since they see anyone loving Jesus as confessing a religion. Quite often I have strange conversations where someone wants to box me into their preconceived notions. They assume that if I am a Christian than I must be “religious” and now they want to know what kind of “religion” am I.

I can only smile and reply, “my religion is love”.

Publicly we acknowledge mothers as being special today. Flowers, candies, dinners, gift cards and the various assortments meant to display our affection for these special chicks. I try to convey my love more than once a year and although I have lofty goals, let’s face it, I miss a lot, but now and again I hit one!

Being a mother myself, I get the fact it’s not about your kid calling you on a commercialized calendar date, but it’s about having a relationship where you feel pretty good no matter what day they call you.

I’d have to say my moms are pretty darn cool, so in the nature of tipping my hat to them, I offer a special act of love….I wrote their names on my arm to acknowledge my heart felt sincerity. I hope I spelled them correctly?

Many years ago I was quite taken by writing from Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s Confessions Part 1 (1712-1778)…..

“I am not made like any of those I have seen; I venture to believe that I am not made like any of those who are in existence. If I am not better, at least I am different.”

Funny how a truth can be recognized even when we are not looking for it. What a wonderful revelation to realize it’s okay to be different, better still would be to embrace our uniqueness for the gift that it is.

What a lovely world we could live in if people didn’t aspire to be like someone else, but rather chose to be themselves.

My husband was kind enough to write a name upon the palm of my right hand tonight. We went to go raise our hands in celebration of the one heavenly Father who is good and strengthens us in our time of weakness. I wanted to remember the importance of lifting a brother up during a time in his life when the trials and tribulations can be discouraging. Each time I raised my hand of strength, I was glad to do so for the sake of another.

I have been laid low many a time and am thankful for those of faith who understood the importance of coming alongside of me during the hours I felt weak and tired. Without such encouragement I may well have fallen victim to the lies my enemy spews.

Ex 17:11-13 (NKJV)  And so it was, when Moses held up his hand, that Israel prevailed; and when he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed. But Moses’ hands became heavy; so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it. And Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side; and his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. So Joshua defeated Amalek and his people with the edge of the sword.

I have to say in the battle of life, I look forward to being one who is willing to come help another see the victory they are meant to have. I only know to do this because of the strength others have offered me when I need it most.

They were a couple standing at the on-ramp of the freeway with their thumbs out. They didn’t look strung out, just desperate for help. I was alone but something touched me about their situation so I did the unthinkable in this day and age……I pulled over.

Their story was common; he had a car but it needed work, neither of them had any money or jobs but they had each other to hold onto in this hour. He needed to get to the next town over for a court appearance. I didn’t ask him what for, I just listened to them while we made small talk. They both reeked of marijuana but I ignored the smell and tried to joke with them here and there.

I left them at the next town’s overpass area in front of a Denny’s restaurant. They said it was hours before they had to be in court so they’d walk there. Thanking me for the ride all I could think of to say was, “may God bless you”.

I wonder about them now and again, wondering just how their blessing may have come?

From all the horror movies available at any video store you can gather people like to be scared. I can’t relate myself since I suffered from nightmares well into my adult years. Over the past several years my nightmares are few and far between and I am grateful to my heavenly Father for giving me peaceful nights of sleep.

A conversation earlier today with a friend brought insight into what others still face on a daily basis. What if the monster wasn’t just in your dreams, but you had to live with them? Who could you tell and how would you escape? Worse still, what if you loved the monster?

My older brother died many years ago when he caught a ride home with an acquaintance at a party who was drunk. This driver missed a turn. I was all of seventeen at the time and the scars I carry from that reality are permanently burned upon my heart. I am aware of how precious life is in a way many don’t always realize.  I can remember making a promise to live my life for “two” from that moment on, but my problem was I wasn’t living my life for even “one” at the time.

Fast forward to my reality now and I ask myself this question, “am I living my life out to keep the promise I made in those teenage years?” Not yet is what I have concluded, but I am not without an understanding I am well on my way to keeping that promise in full and more so.

For every moment I can encourage another, help another, love another, laugh with another, cry with another than my life is not the selfishness of living for “one”.

“Where do you think you’re going when you die?” Girl 1

“Into a casket.” Girl 2

“Why do you believe that?” Girl 1

“Because that’s what we are taught in school. We come back like a flower or something.” Girl 2

Hearing this conversation made my blood boil in the deeper parts of me. How could we, as mothers and fathers of this generation, have let go of our God given right to share the truth? When did we begin to let our schools dictate what our children are to learn about the hope of life? When did reading and writing morph into drumming all hope out of the hearts of our youth? Where are the passionate prayers for justice?

I was leaning back in a throne made of huge rocks, the best seat for viewing the ocean’s horizon. My eyes were drawn toward the sea’s wash of blue green and I could only imagine at its size. I looked up and soaked my face in the rays of the sun and the blue skies, wondering about its scope too. I tried to understand a love so vast for me, even this rule of measurement couldn’t contain it.

Ephesians 3:14-19 (NIV)

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge–that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

A few years ago my husband picked me up a cd from overseas on one of his many travel adventures. I can remember a song called “I Don’t Wanna Be” sung by some names I don’t remember, but I do recall the sentiment of the tune. They didn’t want to be called by names not their own and then the best line of all….”I just want to be free, I just wanna be me.”

I had always liked the song, but today I understand fully what they were speaking of. As a society we put demands on each other and ourselves for definitions of who we are or who we should be. What happens to us when we can’t identify with that assigned role?