Sitting on the porch in the pre-dawn, sipping on my coffee and listening to the world wake up. A rooster crows in the distance while much closer the crickets and cicadas rival each other for noise. A large spider hangs on his web outside of the porch, seemingly weightless, hovering in mid-air. A bob white calls from a field not far from here. The answer comes from what sounds like a lot farther away. There is a white haze, almost a fog but not quite, over the pasture across the road. The sun is just beginning to break over the horizon, and I remember it is supposed to be 103* here today. As a cow makes a warbly, weird bellow nearby, I wonder how the animals can bear this, day after day, yet they do. No choice, I guess. Another sip of coffee, time to get this day going…..
Let’s take a ride down memory lane, to a time when things were simpler. Just picture, 60 or 70 years ago when this bike was shiny and new, some youngster would be pedaling as fast as their legs could go. A little girl with her braids flying behind her and her skirt flapping in the wind, or perhaps a boy with a crew cut and rolled up jeans and tennies, their best friend standing on the step behind them, urging them to go faster, faster! A time when Dad’s word was law, Mom’s cookies were a treat, eating out was rare, and best friends pinky swearing to keep each other’s secrets. “Go play” was the best sentence ever, and dragging in tired and hungry when the street lights went on just to find Mom made your favorite food….those were the days, my friend. Take some time and share a part of yourself and your memories with someone today. I’m sure there are some really good ones!
It’s 5:30 in the morning, sitting on the porch in the cool semi darkness with a cup of hot coffee. It is quiet until the coyotes in the far distance call to each other. Slowly the world begins to wake up as the sun gets closer to breaking over the horizon. Birds, with different calls and songs, greet the day with their usual optimism. An owl hoots nearby and another answers in the distance. The cows quietly move through the tall grass across the road in the field, occasionally mooing but mostly just grazing on the cool dewy grasses. Charlie fancies he hears something I don’t, and lumbers his 100 pound frame over to the bench, putting his front paws on the seat and having a look around through the screened windows. Satisfied there is no threat, he comes back and lays down near my feet where he is sure to get petted. A rooster down the road crows, and is answered by a rooster up the road a ways. The yard light seems to flicker, but it’s just a little breeze causing the leaves from the oak tree to move in front of it. The hummingbirds have found the newly filled feeders and are starting their day on a sweet note. I hope the ants which seem to plague those same feeders no matter what we do, find something else to eat today. The morning is light even though the sun still hasn’t topped the horizon, the air is fresh, and it’s time for another cup of coffee.
The sun isn’t up yet as she makes her first cup of coffee. Quietly, so as not to wake her husband, she walks into the livingroom and sits in her favorite chair by the window. From here she can see the sun rise. It seems every day she has the same thoughts as she sits here, but seem to be more intense around Christmas….and every other holiday. The silence of the house echo’s her thoughts. Her mind travels from what she wished for but never will have, family gathered around. Grandchildren she could have watched grow up. Her now adult children talking about things that interest them, including remember when. Instead they pretty much don’t even talk to each other, and two of them don’t talk to her either. It will never be, and once again her heart aches with a pain that only those who have endured this can know. She sighs, picks up her cup and takes a sip. It’s tolerable hot and feels good warming her on this cold day. The light is ever so slowly creeping up the horizon silhouetting the trees bare branches in the distance. Her thoughts move on to those she has lost both recently and long ago. How she longs to be able to see them once more, to hug them, to feel the sense of being a part of them. They were saved and she knows she will see them in Heaven, but there is such a huge chasm between where they are and where she is. Their passing leaves her lonelier than before but it’s a pain she bears every day. Much like when a tree has a wound, it just scars over it and makes it a part of who it is, that’s the way it has grown on her. Cars travel by on the country road in front of her house. She wonders what the people in them do. What are their lives like? She checks her phone, remembering that one friend has family coming in today and she knows she will be excited. She sends them a quick text to let them know she is happy for them. Another friend is going through cancer so she sends her an encouraging note. Hopefully it helps. Another friend is going through the holidays having lost a son, she sends a prayer to them that their heart be at peace. Other friends are just going about their day to day with nothing much new and she sends a few of them a “good morning” meme, wishing them a good day. That accomplished it’s time for another cup of coffee. Blessings, like the coffee every morning begin to filter though the heavy sadness that still grips her heart. Other blessings, like the dogs who faithfully stay near her. She smiles as one of them lays down near near her, his head on her foot. Her husband is beginning to stir as the sun peeks it’s head over the horizon. He’s another blessing, a huge one. He suffers with the same heart pain she does yet keeps on keeping on. She says a quick prayer for him this morning. The sun has made it’s full appearance and it’s time for that second cup of coffee. The day moves on and so must she. Perhaps she will find someone to give her latest crochet project to. It makes her heart happy to give to others, and perhaps there is something she can do today that would bless them. With that thought in mind, she gets up from her chair while removing her foot from under the dog, heads to the kitchen for her coffee as she hears her husband say, “Good morning, honey”.
With Mother’s Day just a couple days away, I wanted to share some of my photography, but also a note. Many mother’s have been estranged from their children and this day is so difficult. They don’t talk about it because the stigma they feel (what did I do wrong, was I a bad parent, etc.) is strong and painful. The hurt is unexplainable and deep, as though grieving a death when there has been none. They watch other’s with their families and ache, wishing for the same, or some semblance of a relationship. Although we all know that mother’s day is largely a commercialized holiday any more, the reminders are everywhere of what they will not be getting….the love of the person they gave life to and did the best they could for. I am one of those mothers. To those who are in this club we didn’t ask membership to, I pray for your day to be one where you see new blessings in your life, not old pain.
In 1850, Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote the book, The Scarlet Letter. It was about a woman who had an adulterous affair, bore a child from it, and was forced by the community to wear the letter “A” on the front of her bodice for all to see. As if they didn’t know anyway, it was after all 1850 and gossip was the first line of communication in a village. I could go into how that was a really crappy way to treat someone, or how I recall a Bible story about a woman caught in the same sin and the guy was also mysteriously not named (but Jesus forgave her, and didn’t force her to wear her shame in front of everyone), and on an on, but I won’t. But I really want to.
Today, in 2020 we are coming close to doing the same thing except this time it’s the letter C. Call it covid 19 or call it coronavirus, either way it’s causing the same type of ostracism as Hester Prynne received over 200 years ago, on a much wider scale. We evidently don’t have the flu, colds, allergies or any other kind of diseases anymore, just the ‘rona. Cough in public? It’s like dropping dishsoap into greasy water, the entire area suddenly opens up so you and your toxic germs can be alone. Sneeze? Same results. Don’t wear a mask? You hate everyone and you are selfish. Wear a mask? You are now one of the many blinded to the conspiracy that is creeping through our country. Stay home and quarantine? You are setting yourself up for getting sick because your immunity will be down. Get out there and live life despite it all? How dare you possibly carry germs from point A to point B and beyond? Laugh and joke about it? Be serious, this is a dangerous thing and kills even more people than death does. Be super serious about it? Refer to the suicide rate that has exploded in the past year. Perhaps the next step will be to give everyone who has had this a large C to wear so everyone will know. Or maybe they should give out the letter “S” for scared.
Even better, let’s give out kudos for everyone that shuts off their social networks, online news and the internet for a day or ten or more and re-enters the real world that has living human beings instead of social profiles. Let’s give another star for those who reach out and do kindnesses for others just because they can, not to add ”likes” or to gather a larger audience for their blog or whatever other venue they use. Add to that finding the common sense we’ve put aside to be part of the pseudo-family we’ve created with online people that we’ve mostly never even met, but yet allow them to define what our values and morals are, compromising our beliefs in a trade for acceptance.
We are in the middle of yet one more challenge in life. It’s up to you how you respond to it, whether with common sense and courtesy, or with fear, anger and frantic antics. Choose wisely, for what we sow we will reap.
Our dogs, Chester and Charlie, without realizing it nor caring have taught me a lot about life, “why did that happen”, and consequences. For instance, we were camping out on a piece of land we own. I always worry that the dogs are going to come across something that could hurt them, such as a rattlesnake, badger or coyotes but my dogs? They don’t care. They run, bark, have fun, romp in weeds that I would steer clear of. That morning I had let them out of the camper to do their usual “race as fast as they could everywhere barking and just being happy they are alive” thing. As I looked out the window to the west (they were romping to the east) I saw something that made me frantically call them back in before they saw it. It was a badger! Not known for their kind and loving disposition, but for their fighting spirit, claws and teeth there was danger ahead. Dude was just waddling along, minding his own business, headed for bed in the old house foundation we haven’t dealt with yet, and I didn’t want my dogs who love to chase rabbits (never successfully) to think this was just a rabbit of another color! Dogs were obviously disappointed to be called in so quickly, but for their safety it had to be done. It made me think of times in my life where I thought everything was hunky dory, all seemed good, I was getting to do whatever my little heart desired and boom….the Lord shut it down. Maybe seeing the ‘badger’ in my future was the reason? Sometimes you just have to trust that the right decision was made for you despite how confusing and occasionally irritating it seems. My dogs did.
Anyone who knows us knows our two dogs, Chester (who is about 7 years old) and Charlie (almost 5 months old). They have a love/hate relationship. Chester hates for Charlie to bug him and take his bones, and Charlie loves to bug Chester and take his bones. Charlie also has a favorite dog bed to try to pull the stuffing out of which of course, is the bed Chester most likes to lay on because it is soft and fluffy. Charlie is at the stage where he has a toddler brain and a teenage body, and as he is a bigger dog he flops that around a lot. Chester on the other hand is a couple inches shorter than Charlie, has a middle aged body with aches, pains and some pudge, and an old man temperament….well, towards Charlie, anyway. He’s always sweet with us.
That all being said, I watched them this morning and realized what a picture they paint of people. Chester lay on the fluffy bed with his chewy horn (of which there are two so they both can have one) and suddenly Charlie just can’t stand it. He must have the chewy horn of Chester’s. His own chewy horn just isn’t good enough. He must nuzzle the bed in case I’m not looking just in case he can get a little chew on that in. He lay there, eyes fixated on that horn, inches away from the bed, and began to complain. His complaint got louder until it became a bark, and Chester just chewed on, not caring that his horn was wanted by another. Charlie edged closer. My “no!” was pretty much ignored. Whine. Whine. WHINE. BARK! “NO!” This pattern went on for a few minutes until I distracted him with something else. That lasted about 10 seconds, and back to staring position/whine/bark. Surely the horn that Chester had was more special than his, more tasty, flavorful, delicious, and most certainly more desirable than his own. And Charlie edged closer, closer, closer, despite the redirection, despite the sharp no. Chester looked at him with a look of resignation, got up and Charlie jumped at the chance to get in that fluffy bed and take that exceptional chewie horn.
Less than one minute later, he was after Chester trying to get the other chewie horn that he now had (which was not the same one that one on the fluffy bed, but the one Charlie ignored because he wanted Chester’s).
We are so much like that. We look at what someone else has so intently we lose focus on what we already have. We stare at it, we edge closer to the thought of how much nicer/better what ”they” have is. We know better, we know it doesn’t make any sense, we know what we have is sufficient. And when the opportunity presents itself, no matter what the cost, we jump at it and claim our prize…which under close scrutiny isn’t all that prize worthy after all, and hey, look over there at what they have…..
We’re the same way with sin. Creeping closer to what we ought not have (which we’ve been warned to stay away from for our own good). Catching sight of whatever it is that is tempting us and blaming the internet, or advertising, or whatever for allowing our flesh to get a hold of us because, of course, a sharp “no!” from scripture or from our own heart just isn’t enough to pull us away if we really don’t want to pull away. And then when we succumb it’s never enough. We want more, we want different, and most of all we don’t want to suffer or deal with consequences for doing so.
Yet, no is no.
Charlie gets put into doggie time out (separated from everything by a baby gate that holds him in the kitchen). Chester who is usually a good boy, because Charlie is locked away in the room with food and water, has to do without (suffer) because of another’s behavior and the same thing happens with us. When we don’t do things as we should, or we allow ourselves to get into sins that we know better than to do so, everyone around us suffers – and most of the time they are innocent. We never do anything alone, no matter what we might think.
I just came back to the livingroom and Charlie is in my chair, looking up at me with big brown eyes. Trying to take the place of the boss. That’s a story for another day but you can guess where that’s going.
It’s that time of the year once again. From September on we’ve seen the stores flooded with Christmas decorations. Fake trees come out long before Thanksgiving, aisles are full of pre-packaged gifts, and everywhere in ads and social media there are happy families. Every glance reminds many of us of what we don’t have. It’s dangled in our faces at the stores, run across our media devices with a driving force reminding one and all there is only so long until we run out of time to buy those we love that special “something”, regardless of what our circumstances might be. Any merchant wanting our dollar feeds us the belief that if we only purchase what they have, we can have what they are portraying is the perfect family, the perfect holiday, the perfect life….at least for one day. Sometimes we buy into it because, for at least one day, we want that. But it never happens.
We often look around and wonder just what happened over the years to leave us at the point of not only not being picture perfect, but sometimes utterly wounded, bleeding inside with grief, pain, and loneliness. Some have lost a loved one that their passing, and no matter how long ago, has impacted them so much that they cannot function on these media overload holidays. Others have family that for whatever reason have chosen to not include them in their lives, leaving that wide open question of ‘why am I not good enough to be loved by you?’ Some by nature of location or physical health simply cannot be with those they love. Whatever the reason the hurt is out there and I don’t think anyone is immune.
So, with that being said and now that I’ve depressed the socks off of you, this is what I propose all of us with issues remember.
First, this isn’t your birthday. It also isn’t your children/husband/grandchildren/bff/and whoever else you may think of’s birthday. This one belongs to Jesus. Not Hallmark. Not Amazon. Not Walmart. Jesus. So how about we refocus (for more than a 30 second commercial on The Reason For The Season) on Him. He gave gifts of salvation, kindness, truth, tenderness, strength and many more. Take our eyes off of us for a change, and put them on Him.
Secondly, just who runs the remote control and the on/off button on that computer and tv? Probably you. So shut the media off at home, at least occasionally. Give your mind a chance to think for itself instead of being led around by opinions of others, memes and advertising. It’s quite refreshing, actually.
Third, remember the 25th is one day out of 365, no different than any other day. It is still just 24 hours long and you will probably sleep through one third of it.
And last but not least, one of the best ways to overcome your own sadness is to do something kind for someone else. Don’t know where to start? A good beginning is your local nursing home, or ask your Pastor or a trusted friend if they know someone who is alone that day. You can be sure there is a large population of hurting hearts out there whose families and friends are either all gone, too far away, or just don’t care. Taking the time to visit someone will bless you both, plus you may make a new friend who changes your world, because most certainly your visit will change theirs. If you can’t find anyone, get a hold of me. Christmas has always been a challenge…
First, let me start off with this. If you say you love to paint, and the most you have done in the last few years is paint your nails or your face, you don’t “love” to paint….you love the idea of painting. I’ve said this because inevitably someone will comment to me that they don’t get my dislike of painting, because they of course love to paint. That being said, I don’t love to paint. I don’t even like to paint. Early on in our relationship my hubby found that the only proper way to hold a paintbrush (in my world) was in his hands, because he likes to paint. I suppose someone in our relationship had to, it’s our differences that make life interesting, or so we’ve heard.
So, with this in mind we headed out to our little shabin with a 5 gallon bucket of paint, 2 rollers, a paint brush and my husband’s promise of grabbing a roller and helping me paint as soon as he is done with cutting in around the edges. In retrospect who knew there were so many edges? I held on to this promise to the bitter end.
I don’t think he gets my dislike of this activity. It looks pretty straightforward. You put paint on a roller or brush and put it on a wall until there is no more on the brush or roller, and repeat. Perhaps my issue is it is so b.o.r.i.n.g. Perhaps it is because after approximately 10 seconds or so a loaded paint roller goes from weighing a couple pounds to feeling like I’m bench pressing 50 with one hand? Add to that the up and down motion, now we have entered a whole new arena of targeted exercise. My feet want to run away from this, my hand is in a permanent cramp around the handle, my arm is invested and can’t leave despite my muscles reminding me over and over the heaviest thing I’ve repetitively lifted in months is a fork.
To begin with, I evidently don’t know the right way to put a roller in a bucket, get paint on it, and roll it off on the thingy that you stick in the bucket that is expressly made for taking the paint you worked so hard to get on the roller, off. There is, I am told, a right way and the rest are wrong ways, to do this. I frankly don’t care. I have already decided I really don’t want to do this, and just how much do I really love my husband to take on this job so he doesn’t have to do the whole thing? Pushing those thoughts aside I stick the roller into the bucket and it promptly refuses to cooperate with me. It won’t roll in a circle so I can get the whole thing full of paint. I’m not sure why this isn’t working, the whole bucket is full of paint so it ought to be easy. Welcome to my uncoordinated world. At last I get paint on it, along with a lesson from my hubby on how to do it “right”, and I begin what turns out to be the longest three hours of my current life….I put the roller to the wall and began. Four rolls up and down the wall and the stupid roller is already empty. Maybe we should have sprayed the walls with some water, they are too thirsty! As I stood there contemplating I hear from across the room, “Is something wrong?” Nope. I’m just standing here fasting (despite the fact I just had lunch) and praying that someone else will swoop in and do this, or by some miracle it will get done by wishing. Part of me is going slow because, well, I hate to paint but I’m also hoping that he will get done with cutting in and grab that other roller.
To make a long story a bit longer, he finished cutting in after I was done painting. Despite all odds I managed to paint the entire room which I’m not giving dimensions on because in retrospect it is not very big….but it’s huge with a roller in hand and a bad attitude 😉
I reckon it’s that way in everything. Attitude makes all the difference between bench pressing 50 lbs. of paint on a wall, or making a wall beautiful and helping out someone you love.
He just mentioned it’s time to get going so we can give it a second coat. Who is this mysterious “we”? Ooops, there goes my attitude!
Colossians 3:23 “And whatsoever ye do, do [it] heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men;”
Hang On A Minute..... 