"For this is God, Our God forever and ever; He will be our guide even to death." NKJV
"For this is what God is like. He is our God forever and ever, and he will guide us until we die." JCB
I just wish He was there to advise me when I picked the colour for my bedroom walls! It's waaaay too dark! It's downright oppressive and ended up looking like MacIntosh toffee had been smeared all over the walls instead of the creamy, buttery, béchamel I was looking for. It's not an insurmountable problem. I'll simply get a quart of white paint to mix with what's left of the coloured and hope it will be enough to re-do everything.
Okay. Mistakes keep me humble.
I am thankful I enjoy painting. The cat kept me amused, too. He lay on the bed in the middle of the room and was absolutely fascinated by the paint roller as it traversed the vertical surfaces. I am thankful there were no painted paw prints on the floor when I was done.
My closet doesn't have any doors. It didn't have them when I moved in. A 1950's closet is an odd size so modern standard doors won't work. Custom doors are very expensive so it looks like it's going to be a DIY build. In chatting with the man at the hardware store about options, he kept looking at me rather strangely.
He didn't know I built my own shed and deck. He didn't know I have a fully outfitted workshop in my basement with all the tools needed to make a set of sliding doors. It's amazing how often preconceived notions about people are wrong...
First things first. Look out walls, here I come!
Lord, thank You for being my guide. Thank You that even when I stray, Your gentle presence quickly gets me back on track.
Thank You for Your provision and all the richness You have brought into my life. Thank You for the people in my life and the natural beauty that surrounds my home. Thank You for helping me see the lighter side of things.
Saturday, 30 September 2017
Friday, 29 September 2017
I am Guaranteed, Ephesians 1:13-14 by Susan L.
"In Him you also trusted, after you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation; in whom also, having believed, you were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession, to the praise of His glory." NKJV
"And now you Gentiles have also heard the truth, the Good News that God saves you. And when you believed in Christ, he identified you as his own by giving you the Holy Spirit, whom he promised long ago. The Spirit is God's guarantee that he will give us the inheritance he promised and that he has purchased us to be his own people. He did this so we would praise and glorify him." JCB
Haven't I already written about guarantees? It rings a bell but finding out where and when it was written has eluded me because this scripture doesn't appear on the affirmation list until today. It must have been an addition to a previous post.
In reading the passages, one word stood out.
What does God's inheritance look like? As a guaranteed heir, to believe is to receive.
It's so simple. Unlike an earthly inheritance, there are no hoops to jump through, no proof of identity, no will (except God's will), no lawyers, no probate period or taxes to be paid on the estate.
It's a good thing. God's estate is huge covering every single atom of creation both seen and unseen!
I don't think I'll ever be able to wrap my head around just how big it is because it also surpasses time and the restrictions of a mortal world. A mortal world is all I know.
Oops, that's not entirely true. I stand witness to the ability of the Holy Spirit to guide not only my path, but the paths of others as well.
I was at an outdoor/barn wedding last Saturday. It was lovely to see the joy on the couple's faces, to witness to their love for each other.
There was a large crowd of about two hundred guests. By the time the dancing started, I was starting to feel terribly overwhelmed from being in such a busy environment. While I tried to take part in the barn dance, having the visual stimulation of so many people swirling and whirling was too much. Stepping outside to collect myself, I knew it was time to go.
Not wanting to end up having a panic attack and not wanting to simply slip away without taking leave of the bride and groom I turned back to the crowd, the noise and the music. As I came up to the steps leading back into the barn, the bride and groom were just coming out of the door...God is good. He spared me from having to go back in.
So maybe that's what it's all about. Our inheritance is the overflowing love of our heavenly Father that wraps itself around every single aspect of our existence. Guaranteed.
"And now you Gentiles have also heard the truth, the Good News that God saves you. And when you believed in Christ, he identified you as his own by giving you the Holy Spirit, whom he promised long ago. The Spirit is God's guarantee that he will give us the inheritance he promised and that he has purchased us to be his own people. He did this so we would praise and glorify him." JCB
Haven't I already written about guarantees? It rings a bell but finding out where and when it was written has eluded me because this scripture doesn't appear on the affirmation list until today. It must have been an addition to a previous post.
In reading the passages, one word stood out.
What does God's inheritance look like? As a guaranteed heir, to believe is to receive.
It's so simple. Unlike an earthly inheritance, there are no hoops to jump through, no proof of identity, no will (except God's will), no lawyers, no probate period or taxes to be paid on the estate.
It's a good thing. God's estate is huge covering every single atom of creation both seen and unseen!
I don't think I'll ever be able to wrap my head around just how big it is because it also surpasses time and the restrictions of a mortal world. A mortal world is all I know.
Oops, that's not entirely true. I stand witness to the ability of the Holy Spirit to guide not only my path, but the paths of others as well.
I was at an outdoor/barn wedding last Saturday. It was lovely to see the joy on the couple's faces, to witness to their love for each other.
There was a large crowd of about two hundred guests. By the time the dancing started, I was starting to feel terribly overwhelmed from being in such a busy environment. While I tried to take part in the barn dance, having the visual stimulation of so many people swirling and whirling was too much. Stepping outside to collect myself, I knew it was time to go.
Not wanting to end up having a panic attack and not wanting to simply slip away without taking leave of the bride and groom I turned back to the crowd, the noise and the music. As I came up to the steps leading back into the barn, the bride and groom were just coming out of the door...God is good. He spared me from having to go back in.
So maybe that's what it's all about. Our inheritance is the overflowing love of our heavenly Father that wraps itself around every single aspect of our existence. Guaranteed.
Tuesday, 26 September 2017
Phillipians 4:7 by Susan L.
"And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." NKJV
"Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." JCB
I've written and deleted this post four times now. It's not a morning for writing I guess.
My bedroom furniture awaits a second coat of paint. Woohoo!
"Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." JCB
I've written and deleted this post four times now. It's not a morning for writing I guess.
My bedroom furniture awaits a second coat of paint. Woohoo!
Monday, 25 September 2017
I Am Guarded by God 2 Timothy 1:12 by Susan L.
"For this reason I also suffer these things; nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day." NKJV
"That is why I am suffering here in prison. But I am not ashamed of it, for I know the one (Jesus) in whom I trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until the day of his return." JCB
At first I wondered what Paul had committed to Jesus. What, of a human being, is worth guarding? The NKJV Bible contains a cross reference to 1 Peter 4:19 which answers my question.
"Therefore let those who suffer according to the will of God commit their souls to Him in doing good, as to a faithful Creator."
Hmmmm. Okay. It's his soul Paul entrusted but this translation makes it sound like God wills suffering onto His children...I know He doesn't. Our suffering is the consequence of living in a broken world.
"So if you are suffering in a manner that pleases God, keep on doing what is right, and trust your lives to the God who created you, for he will never fail you." JCB
That's better.
I might have shared this story before but it bears repeating in light of today's affirmation.
A friend of mine needed a new car but lacked the funds. She was a housekeeper who worked hard for a living. One day a ferocious storm blew in. A tree fell on her car. The first thing she said was, "Praise Jesus!" Seriously, she did!
Not only did her insurance pay out, but so did the city because they had been warned about how sick and dangerous this particular tree was. The people she was cleaning house for also gave her a bit extra because they felt badly about the loss of her car. In the end, she got a newer, better car than she'd ever thought possible!
I'm left with a Triple T. (Thinking Things Through.)
It's easy to entrust my soul to God. Maybe because a soul isn't a tangible, physical thing. It doesn't sit safely on a shelf somewhere. It's my life force, my heart. It's the metaphysical.
It's the rest of the package that's not so easy. Things like feelings, thoughts, actions, wants, needs, belongings, relationships, responsibilities...suffering. Choices...
Yet, my soul knows God has these under His wings, that He will guide me along His paths. My soul knows that His Son is the Great Redeemer so even if I stray, even if I wander far from His Father's ways, Jesus is right there because all my wanderings are with Him by my side.
He truly is my Knight in shining armor.
"That is why I am suffering here in prison. But I am not ashamed of it, for I know the one (Jesus) in whom I trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until the day of his return." JCB
At first I wondered what Paul had committed to Jesus. What, of a human being, is worth guarding? The NKJV Bible contains a cross reference to 1 Peter 4:19 which answers my question.
"Therefore let those who suffer according to the will of God commit their souls to Him in doing good, as to a faithful Creator."
Hmmmm. Okay. It's his soul Paul entrusted but this translation makes it sound like God wills suffering onto His children...I know He doesn't. Our suffering is the consequence of living in a broken world.
"So if you are suffering in a manner that pleases God, keep on doing what is right, and trust your lives to the God who created you, for he will never fail you." JCB
That's better.
I might have shared this story before but it bears repeating in light of today's affirmation.
A friend of mine needed a new car but lacked the funds. She was a housekeeper who worked hard for a living. One day a ferocious storm blew in. A tree fell on her car. The first thing she said was, "Praise Jesus!" Seriously, she did!
Not only did her insurance pay out, but so did the city because they had been warned about how sick and dangerous this particular tree was. The people she was cleaning house for also gave her a bit extra because they felt badly about the loss of her car. In the end, she got a newer, better car than she'd ever thought possible!
I'm left with a Triple T. (Thinking Things Through.)
It's easy to entrust my soul to God. Maybe because a soul isn't a tangible, physical thing. It doesn't sit safely on a shelf somewhere. It's my life force, my heart. It's the metaphysical.
It's the rest of the package that's not so easy. Things like feelings, thoughts, actions, wants, needs, belongings, relationships, responsibilities...suffering. Choices...
Yet, my soul knows God has these under His wings, that He will guide me along His paths. My soul knows that His Son is the Great Redeemer so even if I stray, even if I wander far from His Father's ways, Jesus is right there because all my wanderings are with Him by my side.
He truly is my Knight in shining armor.
Saturday, 23 September 2017
Look Ahead Next Time :) by Susan L.
I am granted grace in Christ Jesus. Romans 5:17,20
"For if by the one man's offense death reigned through the one, much more those who receive abundance of grace and of the gift of righteousness will reign in life through the One, Jesus Christ...Moreover the law entered that the offense might abound. But where sin abounded, grace abounded much more." NKJV
"For the sin of this one man, Adam, caused death to rule over many. But even greater is God's wonderful grace and his gift of righteousness, for all who receive it will live in triumph over sin and death through this one man, Jesus Christ...God's law was given so that all people could see how sinful they were. But as people sinned more and more, God's wonderful grace became more abundant." JCB
Mindfulness. Living in the moment. Being present. They are all catch phrases rampant in self-help books and pseudo-psychology articles. With the stress of daily living increasing, getting people to actively practice awareness of the "now" has become the key to healthy daily living.
It's not a new concept.
It's one Jesus taught frequently.
It's one thing I'm good at. Too good sometimes. In tackling these affirmations, my focus is only on exploring the one assigned for the day. Maybe if I was a person who flipped to the end of a book to see how it finished, I might have found some comfort yesterday by reading today's affirmation. I might have found a bit more grace for my lack of grace! (Big smile.)
Today's words are a great comfort. They are a reminder that I can't fix what's broken on my own. I don't have to.
Jesus is, after all, the carpenter of my soul.
"For if by the one man's offense death reigned through the one, much more those who receive abundance of grace and of the gift of righteousness will reign in life through the One, Jesus Christ...Moreover the law entered that the offense might abound. But where sin abounded, grace abounded much more." NKJV
"For the sin of this one man, Adam, caused death to rule over many. But even greater is God's wonderful grace and his gift of righteousness, for all who receive it will live in triumph over sin and death through this one man, Jesus Christ...God's law was given so that all people could see how sinful they were. But as people sinned more and more, God's wonderful grace became more abundant." JCB
Mindfulness. Living in the moment. Being present. They are all catch phrases rampant in self-help books and pseudo-psychology articles. With the stress of daily living increasing, getting people to actively practice awareness of the "now" has become the key to healthy daily living.
It's not a new concept.
It's one Jesus taught frequently.
It's one thing I'm good at. Too good sometimes. In tackling these affirmations, my focus is only on exploring the one assigned for the day. Maybe if I was a person who flipped to the end of a book to see how it finished, I might have found some comfort yesterday by reading today's affirmation. I might have found a bit more grace for my lack of grace! (Big smile.)
Today's words are a great comfort. They are a reminder that I can't fix what's broken on my own. I don't have to.
Jesus is, after all, the carpenter of my soul.
Friday, 22 September 2017
I am Gracious Proverbs 22:11 by Susan L.
"He who loves purity of heart and has grace on his lips, the king will be his friend." NKJV
"Whoever loves a pure heart and gracious speech will have the king as a friend." JCB
So to define gracious, Google gave two definitions. The first is courteous, polite, civil, well mannered, mannerly and decorous. Then there's the Biblical definition: merciful, compassionate and kind.
The scary part is I can easily live up to the first definition because it is simply about behaviour not about my heart. Although, a polite and sincere "Please and thank you" goes a long way. Maybe that's why loving a pure heart comes first because there's such a thing in this world as having a silver tongue. I think of the salesman who sold me something I didn't really need. He was polite and charming and told me everything I wanted to hear. He wasn't motivated by what was best for the given situation, he was motivated by his wallet.
I am also feeling deeply convicted by this affirmation. The truth is, at times, I am not overly merciful, compassionate or kind. I am impatient. Judgemental...yah, judgement takes the Godly trio of mercy, compassion and kindness completely out of the picture.
We need the ability to judge to survive because realizing a cliff is too high to jump from or that the red, glowing fire is dangerous are judgements necessary to keep us safe.
The judgements that aren't necessary are the ones that oppress another human being. It's a tough one to shake free of because it permeates every aspect of our society. "Different" is not acceptable. "Less than" is not acceptable. It's interesting how they morph depending on the class, society or culture we are raised in. What is acceptable in one culture can be a huge taboo in another.
We learn how to judge people and ourselves from a very early age. We learn that it's okay to do so. It's a mob mentality thing. It's an industrial revolution thing where cookie cutter education and upbringing define the parameters of who we should be or how we must act in order to be an "acceptable" part of society. Regardless of where in the world we are raised.
I need to take some time to think about my own "position" in society: a Caucasian woman in North America of the middle class. I was taught how to set a table for company, to artfully display my possessions, to uphold the standards of a pristine, green grass lawn and choreographed gardens. I was taught many rules about decorum and propriety. The fact I take the garbage out to the end of the driveway in my jammies is a faux pas of tremendous magnitude if I look at it based on everything learned.
I think of the lady who used to live behind us. "Rosie" Dad called her with an edge of contempt to his voice because she would wander the privacy of her back yard in a fluffy, pink housecoat. I could never figure out why he thought this was a bad thing. But then, he had his own cultural baggage and racial prejudices learned from the cradle.
Nearly every time a car drives past while I am in the middle of the garbage task I hear a whisper of "Rosie".
Hmmm, having to take out my own trash to the end of the driveway is "men's work". Hmmm..."men's work"...that would take a novel to explore. Is having to take out the trash symbolic of failure? Lord, I need Your grace right now. I think another onion layer has been peeled back.
Lord, it would appear I need to look into some generational stuff. Lessons handed down that don't fall in line with the grace You want Your children to live in and through. They don't fall in line with compassion or kindness either.
I want to be better than I am. Let my tongue be guarded. Let my heart and mind be opened to seeing other people as You see them. In Jesus name I pray. AMEN!
"Whoever loves a pure heart and gracious speech will have the king as a friend." JCB
So to define gracious, Google gave two definitions. The first is courteous, polite, civil, well mannered, mannerly and decorous. Then there's the Biblical definition: merciful, compassionate and kind.
The scary part is I can easily live up to the first definition because it is simply about behaviour not about my heart. Although, a polite and sincere "Please and thank you" goes a long way. Maybe that's why loving a pure heart comes first because there's such a thing in this world as having a silver tongue. I think of the salesman who sold me something I didn't really need. He was polite and charming and told me everything I wanted to hear. He wasn't motivated by what was best for the given situation, he was motivated by his wallet.
I am also feeling deeply convicted by this affirmation. The truth is, at times, I am not overly merciful, compassionate or kind. I am impatient. Judgemental...yah, judgement takes the Godly trio of mercy, compassion and kindness completely out of the picture.
We need the ability to judge to survive because realizing a cliff is too high to jump from or that the red, glowing fire is dangerous are judgements necessary to keep us safe.
The judgements that aren't necessary are the ones that oppress another human being. It's a tough one to shake free of because it permeates every aspect of our society. "Different" is not acceptable. "Less than" is not acceptable. It's interesting how they morph depending on the class, society or culture we are raised in. What is acceptable in one culture can be a huge taboo in another.
We learn how to judge people and ourselves from a very early age. We learn that it's okay to do so. It's a mob mentality thing. It's an industrial revolution thing where cookie cutter education and upbringing define the parameters of who we should be or how we must act in order to be an "acceptable" part of society. Regardless of where in the world we are raised.
I need to take some time to think about my own "position" in society: a Caucasian woman in North America of the middle class. I was taught how to set a table for company, to artfully display my possessions, to uphold the standards of a pristine, green grass lawn and choreographed gardens. I was taught many rules about decorum and propriety. The fact I take the garbage out to the end of the driveway in my jammies is a faux pas of tremendous magnitude if I look at it based on everything learned.
I think of the lady who used to live behind us. "Rosie" Dad called her with an edge of contempt to his voice because she would wander the privacy of her back yard in a fluffy, pink housecoat. I could never figure out why he thought this was a bad thing. But then, he had his own cultural baggage and racial prejudices learned from the cradle.
Nearly every time a car drives past while I am in the middle of the garbage task I hear a whisper of "Rosie".
Hmmm, having to take out my own trash to the end of the driveway is "men's work". Hmmm..."men's work"...that would take a novel to explore. Is having to take out the trash symbolic of failure? Lord, I need Your grace right now. I think another onion layer has been peeled back.
Lord, it would appear I need to look into some generational stuff. Lessons handed down that don't fall in line with the grace You want Your children to live in and through. They don't fall in line with compassion or kindness either.
I want to be better than I am. Let my tongue be guarded. Let my heart and mind be opened to seeing other people as You see them. In Jesus name I pray. AMEN!
Thursday, 21 September 2017
#117 Romans 8:31 by Susan L.
I know God is for me.
"What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?" NKJV
"What shall we say about such wonderful things? If God is for us, who can ever be against us?" JCB
It means the enemy of our souls is already defeated.
It means that strongholds will fall. It means ungodly beliefs will crumble to dust. It means the mortar of lies will crack and fail.
It means we have sanctuary under His wings. (Psalm 91)
God's feathers are stronger than a Kevlar vest, a tank or a battleship.
I have to smile here because I can't help but think of the chickens that used to roam freely throughout the yard at the farm. One or two would disappear for a while but eventually turn up followed by a cheeping hoard of little ones. When it got cold or wet, momma hen would cluck and shuffle to round up her charges. The little ones would huddle up under her. Her feathers and wings created a haven of warmth and security. I only knew they were under there because of the occasional peep and cheep.
There's something about chickens I've always wondered about. When a hen lays an egg, she announces it as loudly as she can with a throat strangled, shrill, "Buck-CAW! Buck buck buck!" She keeps it up for a while in case you didn't hear her the first time. I don't think there's another creature who tells the world they've had a baby except people. Most of God's creatures keep birth a secret until that little one is strong enough to walk or run; strong enough to escape from danger.
I know God is for me. Even when I talk about chickens.
(Just so you know, I've been chuckling like a hen myself as I've been writing this.)
God is for me.
When an enemy circles like a fox or a crow, chickens get downright ferocious. They splay out their wings like a shield between the predator and their chicks. She has a different cluck that calls her little ones to get behind them. No matter how big the enemy is, a ten pound chicken becomes brave and strong and a force to be reckoned with when it comes to defending her babies.
If God is for me, for us, who can stand against us?
"What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?" NKJV
"What shall we say about such wonderful things? If God is for us, who can ever be against us?" JCB
It means the enemy of our souls is already defeated.
It means that strongholds will fall. It means ungodly beliefs will crumble to dust. It means the mortar of lies will crack and fail.
It means we have sanctuary under His wings. (Psalm 91)
God's feathers are stronger than a Kevlar vest, a tank or a battleship.
I have to smile here because I can't help but think of the chickens that used to roam freely throughout the yard at the farm. One or two would disappear for a while but eventually turn up followed by a cheeping hoard of little ones. When it got cold or wet, momma hen would cluck and shuffle to round up her charges. The little ones would huddle up under her. Her feathers and wings created a haven of warmth and security. I only knew they were under there because of the occasional peep and cheep.
There's something about chickens I've always wondered about. When a hen lays an egg, she announces it as loudly as she can with a throat strangled, shrill, "Buck-CAW! Buck buck buck!" She keeps it up for a while in case you didn't hear her the first time. I don't think there's another creature who tells the world they've had a baby except people. Most of God's creatures keep birth a secret until that little one is strong enough to walk or run; strong enough to escape from danger.
I know God is for me. Even when I talk about chickens.
(Just so you know, I've been chuckling like a hen myself as I've been writing this.)
God is for me.
When an enemy circles like a fox or a crow, chickens get downright ferocious. They splay out their wings like a shield between the predator and their chicks. She has a different cluck that calls her little ones to get behind them. No matter how big the enemy is, a ten pound chicken becomes brave and strong and a force to be reckoned with when it comes to defending her babies.
If God is for me, for us, who can stand against us?
Wednesday, 20 September 2017
John 17:24 by Susan L.
"Father, I desire that they also whom You gave Me may be with Me where I am, that they may behold My glory which You have given Me; for You loved Me before the foundation of the world." NKJV
"Father, I want these whom you have given me to be with me where I am. Then they can see all the glory you gave me because you loved me before the world began!" JCB
Verse 25-26 goes on to say, "O righteous Father, the world doesn't know you, but I do; and these disciples know you sent me. I have revealed you to them, and I will continue to do so. Then your love for me will be in them, and I will be in them." JCB
There's a one-and-a-half inch pile of paper left from over three thousand, hand written pages. They were journal entries saved from destruction because they are mostly creative writing efforts. It had been a three inch stack but I went through it again yesterday, weaning out anything that wasn't worth keeping.
In this pile was a timeline I'd tried countless times to assemble by going through the journals and making note of what happened and when. It always ended up fizzling. I know why I did it. The journals were a written record of when my mind wasn't present, the lost days on the Black River I call them.
I decided to shred what bit of it I'd managed to note down because they held an edge of desperation. Which is rather funny in an odd sort of way. Why I felt I so urgently needed to find the days and hours that vanished into the mists is beyond me. This morning has me realizing there's a lot I don't remember from when I was well. Praise God!
Looking at this remaining pile, and feeling burdened by all the words they contain, ninety-five percent will end up falling prey to the sharp teeth of the shredder. I really don't need to keep it as a souvenir. I don't want to keep it as a souvenir. How can an earthly timeline even compare to the eternal timeline of God?
It's a process, this act of closure. It's also a celebration. As my son commented to me, "You're making confetti!"
The only timeline that matters now isn't even a line. It's this moment. It's this present minute, second, millisecond. It's living in and through this promise that the love, the glory, of God is wrapped around every fibre of my being through Jesus Christ my Lord.
Amen!
"Father, I want these whom you have given me to be with me where I am. Then they can see all the glory you gave me because you loved me before the world began!" JCB
Verse 25-26 goes on to say, "O righteous Father, the world doesn't know you, but I do; and these disciples know you sent me. I have revealed you to them, and I will continue to do so. Then your love for me will be in them, and I will be in them." JCB
There's a one-and-a-half inch pile of paper left from over three thousand, hand written pages. They were journal entries saved from destruction because they are mostly creative writing efforts. It had been a three inch stack but I went through it again yesterday, weaning out anything that wasn't worth keeping.
In this pile was a timeline I'd tried countless times to assemble by going through the journals and making note of what happened and when. It always ended up fizzling. I know why I did it. The journals were a written record of when my mind wasn't present, the lost days on the Black River I call them.
I decided to shred what bit of it I'd managed to note down because they held an edge of desperation. Which is rather funny in an odd sort of way. Why I felt I so urgently needed to find the days and hours that vanished into the mists is beyond me. This morning has me realizing there's a lot I don't remember from when I was well. Praise God!
Looking at this remaining pile, and feeling burdened by all the words they contain, ninety-five percent will end up falling prey to the sharp teeth of the shredder. I really don't need to keep it as a souvenir. I don't want to keep it as a souvenir. How can an earthly timeline even compare to the eternal timeline of God?
It's a process, this act of closure. It's also a celebration. As my son commented to me, "You're making confetti!"
The only timeline that matters now isn't even a line. It's this moment. It's this present minute, second, millisecond. It's living in and through this promise that the love, the glory, of God is wrapped around every fibre of my being through Jesus Christ my Lord.
Amen!
Tuesday, 19 September 2017
I am God's Child John 1:12 by Susan L.
"But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name." NKJV
"But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God." JCB
I bought a paper shredder on the weekend. Mostly because I needed to destroy a whack of papers from my Uncle's house. There was a time when these could be simply tossed in the trash but with identity theft and other unwanted activities, it's safer these days to not throw out anything that has any sort of identifying info on it.
It could have been burned but burning stacks of paper is a slow process and not always a hundred percent effective. Even ash holds shadows of ink that is legible. Paper creates a lot of large, blowing, burning pieces, too. The fire risk is the main reason why I don't like doing it.
Once everything of my Uncle's was done, I began to work on my own stuff.
Inside the cupboard of my bedside table were my notebooks, the journals written before I became a blogger. It was full. The floodgates had been opened the moment I came to Jesus. The quest for truth became an epic marathon of journaling that lasted years. The journals were filled with page upon page of soul baring prayer and brutal honesty.
I'd reached the decision a while ago that there was much written that shouldn't be read by anyone but had put off buying a shredder.
Part of me wasn't quite ready to destroy the journals anyways.
The small, domestic use, shredder wasn't made for constant use. It would overheat and require a cooling off period. It gave me time to leaf through each notebook and pull out anything I was led to save like the poetry or stories I'd written before I got a laptop. My thought is to type up the ones worth saving and trash the rest.
It was the ultimate letting go event of my life. As rage filled, scribbled pages were swallowed by the shredder, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. As the documented days of living in madness disappeared, I felt a weight lift off my soul. As page after page of repentance and gratitude were offered up in sacrifice, I felt a weight lift off my heart. But most of all, as I tightly tied the last, massive bag of shredded paper, I felt a weight lift off my mind.
That was then, this is now. I am ready for a new beginning.
I think the smell of an overheated motor will always remind me of freedom.
I have to do one more thing. My bedroom furniture bears scars from the past. There are scratches on the dresser from my long gone, much loved, German Shepherd, Duke. Pumpkin has contributed his own claw marks. There are deep gouges on the bedside table from the day I moved from my marital home. Those are the worst. Wood filler and a coat of paint will totally erase these last shreds of what once was...
With a shake of my shoulders and head held high I claim the promise. "I am God's child".
"But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God." JCB
I bought a paper shredder on the weekend. Mostly because I needed to destroy a whack of papers from my Uncle's house. There was a time when these could be simply tossed in the trash but with identity theft and other unwanted activities, it's safer these days to not throw out anything that has any sort of identifying info on it.
It could have been burned but burning stacks of paper is a slow process and not always a hundred percent effective. Even ash holds shadows of ink that is legible. Paper creates a lot of large, blowing, burning pieces, too. The fire risk is the main reason why I don't like doing it.
Once everything of my Uncle's was done, I began to work on my own stuff.
Inside the cupboard of my bedside table were my notebooks, the journals written before I became a blogger. It was full. The floodgates had been opened the moment I came to Jesus. The quest for truth became an epic marathon of journaling that lasted years. The journals were filled with page upon page of soul baring prayer and brutal honesty.
I'd reached the decision a while ago that there was much written that shouldn't be read by anyone but had put off buying a shredder.
Part of me wasn't quite ready to destroy the journals anyways.
The small, domestic use, shredder wasn't made for constant use. It would overheat and require a cooling off period. It gave me time to leaf through each notebook and pull out anything I was led to save like the poetry or stories I'd written before I got a laptop. My thought is to type up the ones worth saving and trash the rest.
It was the ultimate letting go event of my life. As rage filled, scribbled pages were swallowed by the shredder, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. As the documented days of living in madness disappeared, I felt a weight lift off my soul. As page after page of repentance and gratitude were offered up in sacrifice, I felt a weight lift off my heart. But most of all, as I tightly tied the last, massive bag of shredded paper, I felt a weight lift off my mind.
That was then, this is now. I am ready for a new beginning.
I think the smell of an overheated motor will always remind me of freedom.
I have to do one more thing. My bedroom furniture bears scars from the past. There are scratches on the dresser from my long gone, much loved, German Shepherd, Duke. Pumpkin has contributed his own claw marks. There are deep gouges on the bedside table from the day I moved from my marital home. Those are the worst. Wood filler and a coat of paint will totally erase these last shreds of what once was...
With a shake of my shoulders and head held high I claim the promise. "I am God's child".
Sunday, 17 September 2017
#114 on the List by Susan L.
I am glorified with Him. 2 Thessalonians 2:14
"To which He called you by our gospel, for the obtaining of the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ." NKJV
"He called you to salvation when we told you the Good News; now you can share in the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ." JCB
I've written about glory because up until know, it's simply been part of my Christian language: rote quotes. Being faced with a scripture that is about us obtaining the glory of Jesus, I realized I didn't fully understand what glory is. Thank you, Google and Bible.org.
Jesus was given the glory and honour of His Father following His baptism by John. "This is My beloved Son with whom I am well pleased." (2 Peter 1:17) Then later, while they were on the holy mountain, Peter heard the same voice when they were with Jesus.
"And so we have the prophetic word confirmed, which you do well to heed as a light that shines in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts." (2 Peter 1:19)
This is big. The glory of Jesus is the love and delight of His Father.
I am glorified with Him.
That means I live under the love and delight of my Father in heaven just as Jesus does.
Wow. This has put my life under a wholly different perspective. There is much to think about, much to pray about as this understanding wraps itself around my heart.
Thank You, Lord for the gift of Your glory.
"To which He called you by our gospel, for the obtaining of the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ." NKJV
"He called you to salvation when we told you the Good News; now you can share in the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ." JCB
I've written about glory because up until know, it's simply been part of my Christian language: rote quotes. Being faced with a scripture that is about us obtaining the glory of Jesus, I realized I didn't fully understand what glory is. Thank you, Google and Bible.org.
Jesus was given the glory and honour of His Father following His baptism by John. "This is My beloved Son with whom I am well pleased." (2 Peter 1:17) Then later, while they were on the holy mountain, Peter heard the same voice when they were with Jesus.
"And so we have the prophetic word confirmed, which you do well to heed as a light that shines in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts." (2 Peter 1:19)
This is big. The glory of Jesus is the love and delight of His Father.
I am glorified with Him.
That means I live under the love and delight of my Father in heaven just as Jesus does.
Wow. This has put my life under a wholly different perspective. There is much to think about, much to pray about as this understanding wraps itself around my heart.
Thank You, Lord for the gift of Your glory.
Saturday, 16 September 2017
2 Corinthians 1:21-22 by Susan L.
I am given His Holy Spirit.
"Now He who establishes us with you in Christ and has anointed us is God, who also has sealed us and given us the Spirit in our hearts as a guarantee." NKJV
"It is God who enables us, along with you, to stand firm for Christ. He has commissioned us, and he has identified us as his own by placing the Holy Spirit in our hearts as the first installment that guarantees everything he has promised." JCB
Guarantees. It leapt off the screen at me.
They are such a fundamental part of our culture. Every appliance, every bit of electronics, and even our cars come with a guarantee that they will work as promised but it's usually only for two years at the most or maybe five for a vehicle. That is, only if we follow the manufacturer's maintenance plan. If we don't, the guarantee is null and void. For a new car, it means doing exactly what the plan requires and taking it to the dealership for all servicing until the warranty expires. It's pricy compared to my local, trusted, long time mechanic.
The food we buy comes with a guarantee that it is fresh and tasty. Maybe I've got finicky taste buds but some of the pre-packaged meals aren't what they promise.
Over the counter medications make promises that they will ease a headache, stop flu symptoms, or help us sleep only there's a whole whack of small print listing potential side effects. They have a guarantee but are free to put conditions and warnings on that promise.
So really, worldly guarantees aren't worth the paper they are printed on. Every single one of them has an expiry date. Every single one of them comes with conditions.
It's no wonder people ask "What's the catch?" when it comes to exploring Christianity. Yes, we've been good at putting a human twist on a walk with Jesus. Religion is pretty good at putting up walls and making hoops to jump through. I hope the Lord can forgive us.
Because, there isn't a catch, a stumbling block. There isn't a fifteen page incomprehensible contract to sign. There aren't conditions. A verbal commitment to Jesus is as good as signing on the dotted line because God honours our word. It's good enough for Him.
The best part is it enables us to live in the assurance and safety of an eternal, unbreakable contract. It enables us to live under the glory of grace, forgiveness and love. It enables us to grow as people under the tender, caring tutelage of the Holy Spirit. If Jesus is our teacher, the Holy Spirit is our Guide.
How great is that!
"Now He who establishes us with you in Christ and has anointed us is God, who also has sealed us and given us the Spirit in our hearts as a guarantee." NKJV
"It is God who enables us, along with you, to stand firm for Christ. He has commissioned us, and he has identified us as his own by placing the Holy Spirit in our hearts as the first installment that guarantees everything he has promised." JCB
Guarantees. It leapt off the screen at me.
They are such a fundamental part of our culture. Every appliance, every bit of electronics, and even our cars come with a guarantee that they will work as promised but it's usually only for two years at the most or maybe five for a vehicle. That is, only if we follow the manufacturer's maintenance plan. If we don't, the guarantee is null and void. For a new car, it means doing exactly what the plan requires and taking it to the dealership for all servicing until the warranty expires. It's pricy compared to my local, trusted, long time mechanic.
The food we buy comes with a guarantee that it is fresh and tasty. Maybe I've got finicky taste buds but some of the pre-packaged meals aren't what they promise.
Over the counter medications make promises that they will ease a headache, stop flu symptoms, or help us sleep only there's a whole whack of small print listing potential side effects. They have a guarantee but are free to put conditions and warnings on that promise.
So really, worldly guarantees aren't worth the paper they are printed on. Every single one of them has an expiry date. Every single one of them comes with conditions.
It's no wonder people ask "What's the catch?" when it comes to exploring Christianity. Yes, we've been good at putting a human twist on a walk with Jesus. Religion is pretty good at putting up walls and making hoops to jump through. I hope the Lord can forgive us.
Because, there isn't a catch, a stumbling block. There isn't a fifteen page incomprehensible contract to sign. There aren't conditions. A verbal commitment to Jesus is as good as signing on the dotted line because God honours our word. It's good enough for Him.
The best part is it enables us to live in the assurance and safety of an eternal, unbreakable contract. It enables us to live under the glory of grace, forgiveness and love. It enables us to grow as people under the tender, caring tutelage of the Holy Spirit. If Jesus is our teacher, the Holy Spirit is our Guide.
How great is that!
Friday, 15 September 2017
1 Peter 1:3-4 by Susan L.
I am given His magnificent promises.
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you." NKJV
"All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is by his great mercy that we have been born again, because God raised Jesus Christ from the dead. Now we live with great expectation, and we have a priceless inheritance--an inheritance that is kept in heaven for you, pure and undefiled, beyond the reach of change and decay." JCB
This is the promise of the Hope of Eternal Life. I confess it's a bit hard to wrap my head around, although my Uncle's passing has had me thinking a lot about what happens on earth after I am gone. I need to take care of some business in that regard.
It's funny how grief is. Strange things can trigger an upwelling of tears. I wasn't greatly affected while clearing out his room at the hospice. He hadn't been there long enough to form any sort of emotional connection with the space. What tugged at my heart was the fact that most of Harry's last belongings fit into a large Rubbermaid bin. It held the sum total of ninety plus years on this earth. The bin is a poignant reminder that, in the end, stuff doesn't matter.
I am thankful the Lord reminded me about all the houses he fixed. Knowing that makes the bin less heart wrenching.
It has me thinking about the kind of legacy I want to leave behind. It has me thinking about the kind of person I'd like to be for my remaining years on this planet. More than anything, I want to live true to the calling with which I have been called.
There's still a lot to let go of.
With each ending comes a new beginning. Lord guide me where I need to go. Reveal to me the places where I am not quite right with You. Strengthen me so I can face my own sinful nature. Open the eyes of my heart. In Jesus' name I pray. AMEN!
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you." NKJV
"All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is by his great mercy that we have been born again, because God raised Jesus Christ from the dead. Now we live with great expectation, and we have a priceless inheritance--an inheritance that is kept in heaven for you, pure and undefiled, beyond the reach of change and decay." JCB
This is the promise of the Hope of Eternal Life. I confess it's a bit hard to wrap my head around, although my Uncle's passing has had me thinking a lot about what happens on earth after I am gone. I need to take care of some business in that regard.
It's funny how grief is. Strange things can trigger an upwelling of tears. I wasn't greatly affected while clearing out his room at the hospice. He hadn't been there long enough to form any sort of emotional connection with the space. What tugged at my heart was the fact that most of Harry's last belongings fit into a large Rubbermaid bin. It held the sum total of ninety plus years on this earth. The bin is a poignant reminder that, in the end, stuff doesn't matter.
I am thankful the Lord reminded me about all the houses he fixed. Knowing that makes the bin less heart wrenching.
It has me thinking about the kind of legacy I want to leave behind. It has me thinking about the kind of person I'd like to be for my remaining years on this planet. More than anything, I want to live true to the calling with which I have been called.
There's still a lot to let go of.
With each ending comes a new beginning. Lord guide me where I need to go. Reveal to me the places where I am not quite right with You. Strengthen me so I can face my own sinful nature. Open the eyes of my heart. In Jesus' name I pray. AMEN!
Thursday, 14 September 2017
I am Gifted, Romans 12:6
"Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, let us prophesy in proportion to our faith." NKJV
"In his grace, God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well. so if God has given you the ability to prophesy, speak out with as much faith as God has given you." JCB
The verse continues, "If your gift is serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, teach well. If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership abilities, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly."
It's all about confidence, isn't it? Confidence in the truth that in Christ, I, we, can do all things.
...I am not really focused this morning. It's been a tiring and emotional time these last few weeks.
The memorial I shared with you a couple days ago was read at the service yesterday with only a few modifications. I can stand witness that prayers for peace were answered.
I don't really feel like writing this morning either. That's okay. I want to encourage everyone to read the rest of Chapter 12 because I realize that through the love of Jesus everything is possible, and every gift will manifest itself in our lives. AMEN!
"In his grace, God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well. so if God has given you the ability to prophesy, speak out with as much faith as God has given you." JCB
The verse continues, "If your gift is serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, teach well. If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership abilities, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly."
It's all about confidence, isn't it? Confidence in the truth that in Christ, I, we, can do all things.
...I am not really focused this morning. It's been a tiring and emotional time these last few weeks.
The memorial I shared with you a couple days ago was read at the service yesterday with only a few modifications. I can stand witness that prayers for peace were answered.
I don't really feel like writing this morning either. That's okay. I want to encourage everyone to read the rest of Chapter 12 because I realize that through the love of Jesus everything is possible, and every gift will manifest itself in our lives. AMEN!
Tuesday, 12 September 2017
In Loving Memory of Uncle Harry by Susan L.
When we were
asked to come up with some insight about Harry, his good friend Denis said it
all. Harry was, well, Harry. I think he’d like that, that it took few words to describe
an uncomplicated man.
Harry was born December 22, 1924 in rural New Brunswick, the youngest of three brothers. Earl, Bert and Harry were only about four years apart.
In an era when cash was short and time was long, the old expression “boys will be boys” must have been born. One time, the boys tied handkerchiefs to the chickens and tossed them off the shed roof as parachutists, a new and exciting invention. This grand experiment resulted in the catastrophic loss of a chicken that hadn’t mastered the finer details of landing. The trio buried it rather than face the wrath of their parents. I don’t think his mother was ever told the story.
When not up to trouble, he earned some money during the school year. Harry’s first paying job was lighting the one room school house woodstove every bitterly cold, dark, New Brunswick winter morning two hours before class would start. In June, he was excited to take the bill to the town office and have not quite seven dollars placed in his hands by a clerk who peered at him and told him to be careful with his money. It was a lot in those days. Despite the many years that have passed, as he reminisced with me about the excitement of waiting for the clerk to get his pay, I could see the boy that still lived inside the man.
Harry joined the service in his twenties and was transferred overseas. He didn’t see action in WWII but did end up with a war wound. He and a few fellow soldiers were out after curfew, carousing through the streets of London. Climbing into the barracks through a glass skylight resulted in a gash requiring several stitches. He didn’t get a medal.
This carefree, mischievous young man was something very few of us got to see. He only appeared in Harry's Cheshire cat, secretive, grin when something amused him. An out and out, burst of laughter was a rare thing to be treasured.
Harry’s daily routine was simple. Beginning with getting together every morning for coffee with the boys, a tradition that has spanned many years and many different venues. It gave him the chance to work on the daily crossword and debate the woes of the world. He did enjoy poking fun at the Walmart walkers but would often sit with them because they got coffee for free. I guess the clerk’s warning so many years ago had sunk in well.
Harry didn’t like the spotlight and was especially annoyed with the coffee crowd when they made some fuss over his 90th birthday two years ago. He wasn’t comfortable at formal affairs and often said, “I am just a carpenter”. Yet, a hint of pride would creep in as he would give me a tour of the area every time I visited. He would point out house after house where he had played some small part in its construction or renovation.
He lived in Ancaster a long time. There were a lot of houses. It’s a fitting memorial for Harry, knowing that this simple, quiet, behind the scenes legacy will be here for many years to come.
Harry was born December 22, 1924 in rural New Brunswick, the youngest of three brothers. Earl, Bert and Harry were only about four years apart.
In an era when cash was short and time was long, the old expression “boys will be boys” must have been born. One time, the boys tied handkerchiefs to the chickens and tossed them off the shed roof as parachutists, a new and exciting invention. This grand experiment resulted in the catastrophic loss of a chicken that hadn’t mastered the finer details of landing. The trio buried it rather than face the wrath of their parents. I don’t think his mother was ever told the story.
When not up to trouble, he earned some money during the school year. Harry’s first paying job was lighting the one room school house woodstove every bitterly cold, dark, New Brunswick winter morning two hours before class would start. In June, he was excited to take the bill to the town office and have not quite seven dollars placed in his hands by a clerk who peered at him and told him to be careful with his money. It was a lot in those days. Despite the many years that have passed, as he reminisced with me about the excitement of waiting for the clerk to get his pay, I could see the boy that still lived inside the man.
Harry joined the service in his twenties and was transferred overseas. He didn’t see action in WWII but did end up with a war wound. He and a few fellow soldiers were out after curfew, carousing through the streets of London. Climbing into the barracks through a glass skylight resulted in a gash requiring several stitches. He didn’t get a medal.
This carefree, mischievous young man was something very few of us got to see. He only appeared in Harry's Cheshire cat, secretive, grin when something amused him. An out and out, burst of laughter was a rare thing to be treasured.
He was a bachelor
for a long time, providing a home for his mother, Lillian. His bachelorhood
lasted until he was in his late forties when he married Betty. Comfortable with
older men and enjoying shooting the breeze with them, he’d met Betty through
her father who eventually lived with them as well. Betty and Harry were
together until her passing a little more than eleven years ago.
He provided
for this small family by working as a carpenter and often turned his hand to
helping out neighbours and friends by doing odd jobs for them as well. When
Harry finally set down his hammer, he was happy to act as chauffeur for the
girls next door and a “youngster” in his seventies.
He was
interested in world events, history and cars. How Harry loved cars! New, old, classics, all
of them. He’d often spend time checking out the new models, driving from sales
lot to sales lot, peering beneath their hoods. Getting a new, gently used car,
was a little piece of heaven on earth and one of the few luxuries he ever
allowed himself. Harry’s daily routine was simple. Beginning with getting together every morning for coffee with the boys, a tradition that has spanned many years and many different venues. It gave him the chance to work on the daily crossword and debate the woes of the world. He did enjoy poking fun at the Walmart walkers but would often sit with them because they got coffee for free. I guess the clerk’s warning so many years ago had sunk in well.
Harry didn’t like the spotlight and was especially annoyed with the coffee crowd when they made some fuss over his 90th birthday two years ago. He wasn’t comfortable at formal affairs and often said, “I am just a carpenter”. Yet, a hint of pride would creep in as he would give me a tour of the area every time I visited. He would point out house after house where he had played some small part in its construction or renovation.
He lived in Ancaster a long time. There were a lot of houses. It’s a fitting memorial for Harry, knowing that this simple, quiet, behind the scenes legacy will be here for many years to come.
Monday, 11 September 2017
Post #1401 by Susan L.
Today's not the day to do an affirmation. Today's a day to pause.
Uncle Harry passed away peacefully in his sleep early Saturday morning. I couldn't say anything yesterday until all the family was notified.
That's all for now.
There's something comforting about the Gideon Bible placed in every hotel room.
"The counsel of the Lord stands forever, The plans of His heart to all generations." Ps 32:11
Uncle Harry passed away peacefully in his sleep early Saturday morning. I couldn't say anything yesterday until all the family was notified.
That's all for now.
There's something comforting about the Gideon Bible placed in every hotel room.
"The counsel of the Lord stands forever, The plans of His heart to all generations." Ps 32:11
Saturday, 9 September 2017
I Am Freely Given All Things Romans 8:32 by Susan L.
"He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?" NKJV
"Since he (God) did not spare even his own Son but gave him up for us all, won't he also give us everything else?" JCB
Wisdom, insight and discernment are the gifts of understanding. Perseverance, patience, grace, and forgiveness are the gifts of healing. Redemption is the gift of new life. Compassion, joy, love and peace are the fruit of that new life; the gifts of a Holy harvest.
"Everything else" is a long list. It's probably longer because for sure I've missed something. Oh, yah, humility.
These are gifts of the Holy Spirit, the Helper God gave all believers.
_______________
Lord, thank You.
And I have to cut this short. I will let everyone know why soon.
"Since he (God) did not spare even his own Son but gave him up for us all, won't he also give us everything else?" JCB
Wisdom, insight and discernment are the gifts of understanding. Perseverance, patience, grace, and forgiveness are the gifts of healing. Redemption is the gift of new life. Compassion, joy, love and peace are the fruit of that new life; the gifts of a Holy harvest.
"Everything else" is a long list. It's probably longer because for sure I've missed something. Oh, yah, humility.
These are gifts of the Holy Spirit, the Helper God gave all believers.
_______________
Lord, thank You.
And I have to cut this short. I will let everyone know why soon.
Friday, 8 September 2017
I am Free John 8:36 by Susan L.
"Therefore if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed." NKJV
"So if the Son sets you free, you are truly free." JCB
Jesus says earlier in the chapter in verse 31-32, "You are truly my disciples if you remain faithful to my teachings. And you will know the truth and the truth will set you free."
How do I discern truth?
More importantly, what is truth? Google defines it as the quality or state of being true. That's not a whole lot of help is it?
Two people who attended a social engagement are interviewed the next day. Both of them had very different descriptions. For one it was a great time. For the other, not so much. Which is true? Was it a great party or not?
Is truth subject to perspective? How I remember something is my truth based on the experiences and events that shaped my world view. This doesn't make it wrong...Hmmm...the wrongness only reveals itself based on my responses or choices. If I choose to hurt others because I have been hurt, that's where the wrong comes in.
Sometimes living on my own can be lonely. I've felt it especially so in these last few weeks of chaos and intense, roller coaster emotions. When these big, life questions come up, Pumpkin doesn't have much to say except for the demand, "Love me. NOW! Prrrrrrrrr!"
There's something to be said for simplicity and living in the moment.
How does this all tie in together?
My walk with Jesus has been an epic quest in pursuit of truth, of finding out how He sees the events of my life. He's peeled me like an onion, layer after layer. Which, by the way, if you've ever peeled an onion, there's tears involved. Every layer was tenderly wrapped in grace and forgiveness. As mentioned before, experiences and events shaped my world view. It is a world view, not a Jesus view.
The truth of Jesus has its foundation in love.
"Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful and endures through every circumstance." 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
Without love, there is no truth. Without truth, there is no freedom.
Thank You, Lord, that I am being set free.
"So if the Son sets you free, you are truly free." JCB
Jesus says earlier in the chapter in verse 31-32, "You are truly my disciples if you remain faithful to my teachings. And you will know the truth and the truth will set you free."
How do I discern truth?
More importantly, what is truth? Google defines it as the quality or state of being true. That's not a whole lot of help is it?
Two people who attended a social engagement are interviewed the next day. Both of them had very different descriptions. For one it was a great time. For the other, not so much. Which is true? Was it a great party or not?
Is truth subject to perspective? How I remember something is my truth based on the experiences and events that shaped my world view. This doesn't make it wrong...Hmmm...the wrongness only reveals itself based on my responses or choices. If I choose to hurt others because I have been hurt, that's where the wrong comes in.
Sometimes living on my own can be lonely. I've felt it especially so in these last few weeks of chaos and intense, roller coaster emotions. When these big, life questions come up, Pumpkin doesn't have much to say except for the demand, "Love me. NOW! Prrrrrrrrr!"
There's something to be said for simplicity and living in the moment.
How does this all tie in together?
My walk with Jesus has been an epic quest in pursuit of truth, of finding out how He sees the events of my life. He's peeled me like an onion, layer after layer. Which, by the way, if you've ever peeled an onion, there's tears involved. Every layer was tenderly wrapped in grace and forgiveness. As mentioned before, experiences and events shaped my world view. It is a world view, not a Jesus view.
The truth of Jesus has its foundation in love.
"Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful and endures through every circumstance." 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
Without love, there is no truth. Without truth, there is no freedom.
Thank You, Lord, that I am being set free.
Wednesday, 6 September 2017
I am a Fragrance 2 Corinthians 2:15-16 by Susan L.
"For we are to God the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing. To the one we are the aroma leading to death, and to the other the aroma of life leading to life. And who is sufficient for these things?" NKJV
"Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing. To those who are perishing, we are a dreadful smell of death and doom. But to those who are being saved, we are a life-giving perfume. And who is adequate for such a task as this?" JCB
I am a bit distracted this morning. Dreaming about home renovations and how to squeeze more space into my tiny kitchen. Ideas, solutions, thinking about what would work, what wouldn't, scrapping a plan then coming up with another. Dreams of a mud room off the back door and possibly a garage for the car and the snow blower I'll need one day when the shovelling gets too hard. Dreams of a renovated bathroom. Dreams...it feels good to simply hope that one day these dreams will be fulfilled.
The reality is a new furnace would come first before anything else. I could repaint my bedroom for a whole lot less of an investment. It's looking a little tired.
Now, what colour? Hmmm...
Or maybe this ties in after all. If Jesus is the corner stone, hope is the mortar of faith.
When the woman who led me to the Lord first came to the farm to train my young mare, there was something about her, something good that drew me like a bee to a bloom. It had been a "chance" conversation at the local corner store which led me to hire her, a horse whisperer. Those few exchanged words with the store owner would eventually lead to my salvation.
This lovely woman with a passion for horses had an aura of life and light that made her absolutely beautiful despite barn boots and work clothes. The fragrance of Jesus followed her everywhere. She wore hope like a mantle: the hope that there is something good and wonderful in this world. When she left for home, the shadows moved back in. Depression cruelly snickered and settled in for the rest of the day. I couldn't wait for her to come back and do another training session. I was starving for hope and goodness and joy and peace and acceptance.
She didn't preach at me. She didn't try and "win me over to the Christian way". She didn't have to. I wanted what she had only I didn't know quite what that was.
God honoured the unspoken prayer of my heart. For that I am ever grateful because now I can pray, I can ask, that I carry the sweet fragrance that is the hope of Jesus to those who don't know Him. This I do in Jesus' name. AMEN!
Oh, and about the furnace...lead me to the best deal and an honest tradesman. In Jesus' name. Amen again!
"Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing. To those who are perishing, we are a dreadful smell of death and doom. But to those who are being saved, we are a life-giving perfume. And who is adequate for such a task as this?" JCB
I am a bit distracted this morning. Dreaming about home renovations and how to squeeze more space into my tiny kitchen. Ideas, solutions, thinking about what would work, what wouldn't, scrapping a plan then coming up with another. Dreams of a mud room off the back door and possibly a garage for the car and the snow blower I'll need one day when the shovelling gets too hard. Dreams of a renovated bathroom. Dreams...it feels good to simply hope that one day these dreams will be fulfilled.
The reality is a new furnace would come first before anything else. I could repaint my bedroom for a whole lot less of an investment. It's looking a little tired.
Now, what colour? Hmmm...
Or maybe this ties in after all. If Jesus is the corner stone, hope is the mortar of faith.
When the woman who led me to the Lord first came to the farm to train my young mare, there was something about her, something good that drew me like a bee to a bloom. It had been a "chance" conversation at the local corner store which led me to hire her, a horse whisperer. Those few exchanged words with the store owner would eventually lead to my salvation.
This lovely woman with a passion for horses had an aura of life and light that made her absolutely beautiful despite barn boots and work clothes. The fragrance of Jesus followed her everywhere. She wore hope like a mantle: the hope that there is something good and wonderful in this world. When she left for home, the shadows moved back in. Depression cruelly snickered and settled in for the rest of the day. I couldn't wait for her to come back and do another training session. I was starving for hope and goodness and joy and peace and acceptance.
She didn't preach at me. She didn't try and "win me over to the Christian way". She didn't have to. I wanted what she had only I didn't know quite what that was.
God honoured the unspoken prayer of my heart. For that I am ever grateful because now I can pray, I can ask, that I carry the sweet fragrance that is the hope of Jesus to those who don't know Him. This I do in Jesus' name. AMEN!
Oh, and about the furnace...lead me to the best deal and an honest tradesman. In Jesus' name. Amen again!
Tuesday, 5 September 2017
Lost and Found Luke 19:10 by Susan L.
"For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost." NKJV
"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save those who are lost." JCB
I think I like the older translation better for the simple reason that even though this passage was written a long time ago, Jesus has come and still comes to save us. "Came" implies it was only an historical event, not an ongoing one.
He has come to save "that which was lost." It's more than our souls. He has come to save our minds, our hearts and our bodies as well. His love and great grace will redeem every single aspect of our existence.
Maybe that's why I am so angry at myself because of what happened with the landlord. In the blink of an eye, all the work the Lord has done to help me believe in my worth flew out the window. All the work the Lord has done to reinforce the idea that I have a voice vanished. All the healing vanished the moment I was faced with the merest hint of conflict with a man. The old behaviours swept in: the submissiveness, the people pleasing, the fear of rejection, of not being "liked", the inability to ask for help...it's a long list.
So I am feeling somewhat disheartened. The old road map is more firmly entrenched than I thought. Maybe I need to find some compassion here and patience. It took forty odd years to make this map. It's bound to have hidden pathways still wired into my subconscious.
Lord? I need Your grace to fill me. I need Your guidance to get back on the right path. I need Your insight to uncover the keys that unlock the old map so they can be tossed away. Most of all, I need to be able to recognize when it starts to lead me astray from Your ways the moment it starts doing so.
I can let go of being angry at myself now. In a burst of imagination, I am tearing up the old map, scrunching it into a ball and tossing it into the trash where it belongs.
The pristine, Jesus map is being lovingly unfolded and laid on my heart and soul. It doesn't have a North, South, East or West because all ways lead to Him.
Hmmm. It would appear the old map does too!
"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save those who are lost." JCB
I think I like the older translation better for the simple reason that even though this passage was written a long time ago, Jesus has come and still comes to save us. "Came" implies it was only an historical event, not an ongoing one.
He has come to save "that which was lost." It's more than our souls. He has come to save our minds, our hearts and our bodies as well. His love and great grace will redeem every single aspect of our existence.
Maybe that's why I am so angry at myself because of what happened with the landlord. In the blink of an eye, all the work the Lord has done to help me believe in my worth flew out the window. All the work the Lord has done to reinforce the idea that I have a voice vanished. All the healing vanished the moment I was faced with the merest hint of conflict with a man. The old behaviours swept in: the submissiveness, the people pleasing, the fear of rejection, of not being "liked", the inability to ask for help...it's a long list.
So I am feeling somewhat disheartened. The old road map is more firmly entrenched than I thought. Maybe I need to find some compassion here and patience. It took forty odd years to make this map. It's bound to have hidden pathways still wired into my subconscious.
Lord? I need Your grace to fill me. I need Your guidance to get back on the right path. I need Your insight to uncover the keys that unlock the old map so they can be tossed away. Most of all, I need to be able to recognize when it starts to lead me astray from Your ways the moment it starts doing so.
I can let go of being angry at myself now. In a burst of imagination, I am tearing up the old map, scrunching it into a ball and tossing it into the trash where it belongs.
The pristine, Jesus map is being lovingly unfolded and laid on my heart and soul. It doesn't have a North, South, East or West because all ways lead to Him.
Hmmm. It would appear the old map does too!
Monday, 4 September 2017
Affirmation #106 by Susan L.
I am formed in the womb by God. Jeremiah 1:5
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; Before you were born I sanctified you; I ordained you a prophet to the nations." NKJV
"I knew you before I formed you in your mother's womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you as my prophet to the nations." JCB
I confess to not having lived according to my calling or this truth about who I am in Christ.
A week ago Friday, I drove my uncle to his final home. Panicking, I thought I'd got us lost in unfamiliar, downtown Hamilton so, after pulling over, I gave the hospice a quick call. It was only two more right hand turns and a couple of blocks away. We weren't lost after all.
My uncle spent the twenty minute trip laid back in the passenger seat. I can only imagine his thoughts as he left his home of some forty plus years. He's not one to share.
Getting him settled and assessing his needs took a good part of the afternoon. I left to pick him up some new clothes. It's been a challenge to find something that is comfortable for him now he is almost completely bedridden. His comfort is top priority.
I wasn't sure how to get back to my uncle's house from the hospice because the one way road we took didn't go back the other way. One of the staff gave me directions. It took me through downtown Hamilton.
Pulled up at a stop light, a man on a bike was petting his dog and rubbing its paw. The poor thing was yelping in a high pitched, "Yi! Yi! Yi!" that echoed in the stone and cement canyon of buildings. I guess its paw had gotten run over.
The sound was a huge trigger for me, reminding of when my own dog had broken his leg. Tears bubbled up but were quickly swallowed down.
Driving block after block and seeing no signs of the highway, feeling utterly overwhelmed and lost, at another red light, I waved to the car beside me. She pulled forward. I asked her where the highway was. She smiled and said, "Follow me! I am going the same way." This lovely woman even pulled over to wait for me when another red light forced a stop. Tears, only this time of gratitude bubbled up but were quickly swallowed. I needed to pay attention to the road. God bless her for her kindness towards a stranger. She only sped away when I saw the highway turn off and gave her a wave of thanks.
Then: Walmart. The one near my uncle's house is massive. It's not laid out the same as other's I've been in. The amount of merchandise is staggering. As I struggled to locate the few items needed, already running on overwhelm from the emotions of the morning, the drive through unfamiliar streets, and having the daunting task at hand of clearing out the house ahead, more tears bubbled up and were quickly swallowed down. My uncle's comfort was the priority here.
The tears were mostly because of feeling overwhelmed and tired from all the organizing, the phone calls, and making sure my uncle had everything he needed.
A quick stop at the house was made for something to eat and to put name tags on the new clothes. An hour later, I went to the hospice for a bit before heading back to my uncle's house for the night.
A shower helped. Jammies helped dispel some of the feelings of overwhelm and helped me relax a bit for the first time in days.
As I sat at the kitchen table, a strange man and woman walked past the front door. The landlord showed them around the yard then they came in the house to look around. Potential tenants.
Wow. My uncle's bed barely had time to cool.
After they left, the landlord said he wanted me out of there as soon as possible because these new tenants wanted to come in and paint. He dumped his landlord woes, like how he hadn't charged my uncle two months rent as notice of vacating the property (his legal right) so therefore I had to get out ASAP.
"I was expecting your uncle to live here for at least another three months because the doctor gave him three to six months to live. Now I have to rent the place as quickly as possible and these people want it."
What?! Did he just say what I thought he said? The floodgates opened and I finally cried.
(Legally, he needed to give me twenty-four hours notice before coming in. Now why didn't I think of that then?)
I was mentally and emotionally incapable of stringing any sort of sentence together. Having this bomb dropped in my lap didn't help.
I really need to lift this up to the Lord because I am not feeling particularly charitable towards this man who was not only the landlord but claimed to be a long time friend. Yes, he helped my uncle out by taking out the garbage and checking in on him regularly. I can find gratitude for that.
What bothers me the most is why I allowed them in when it wasn't a good time. What bothers me is why I didn't ask him to wait until the next day to show the people the inside of the house. What bothers me the most is why I didn't ask him to speak with me in the morning because I was upset and feeling very vulnerable. It had been a hard, long day. What bothers me is why I felt it was my responsibility to solve his problems. What bothers me is why I didn't ask him to leave but instead felt obligated to listen to him talk at me for over half an hour.
Sigh. Old habits, old conditionings about dealing with men still run deep.
As things turned out, with my son's help, I didn't need until the 15th. There was some furniture to be donated that was left behind but I figured (spitefully I confess) the landlord could deal with it because I'd called a charity to come and get it but they couldn't be there until the 15th. Another friend of my uncle was going to do a dump run and look after the rented medical equipment needing to be picked up.
I am relieved it's done, that I am not at home thinking about having to go back and continue the daunting task of emptying my uncle's house. What bothers me is the bitter taste about how it ended up happening.
So how does all this tie into today's affirmation?
Lord, in all of this, many prayers passed over my lips. Thank You that You answered them. Thank You that You answered unspoken prayers as well. Thank You that my uncle has been placed in a Catholic hospice, that there will be an opportunity for my uncle to find comfort in Your arms. Thank You that You sustained me and gave me the strength to control the tears. Thank You for the people who have helped me during these difficult times.
Well, there's one thing about my identity I know for sure. I am grateful.
I am also finally feeling more myself. Two good night's sleep has made a world of difference.
I also trust that the Lord will help me grow beyond the limitations of my experiences, that one day I will be fully who He predestined me to be.
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; Before you were born I sanctified you; I ordained you a prophet to the nations." NKJV
"I knew you before I formed you in your mother's womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you as my prophet to the nations." JCB
I confess to not having lived according to my calling or this truth about who I am in Christ.
A week ago Friday, I drove my uncle to his final home. Panicking, I thought I'd got us lost in unfamiliar, downtown Hamilton so, after pulling over, I gave the hospice a quick call. It was only two more right hand turns and a couple of blocks away. We weren't lost after all.
My uncle spent the twenty minute trip laid back in the passenger seat. I can only imagine his thoughts as he left his home of some forty plus years. He's not one to share.
Getting him settled and assessing his needs took a good part of the afternoon. I left to pick him up some new clothes. It's been a challenge to find something that is comfortable for him now he is almost completely bedridden. His comfort is top priority.
I wasn't sure how to get back to my uncle's house from the hospice because the one way road we took didn't go back the other way. One of the staff gave me directions. It took me through downtown Hamilton.
Pulled up at a stop light, a man on a bike was petting his dog and rubbing its paw. The poor thing was yelping in a high pitched, "Yi! Yi! Yi!" that echoed in the stone and cement canyon of buildings. I guess its paw had gotten run over.
The sound was a huge trigger for me, reminding of when my own dog had broken his leg. Tears bubbled up but were quickly swallowed down.
Driving block after block and seeing no signs of the highway, feeling utterly overwhelmed and lost, at another red light, I waved to the car beside me. She pulled forward. I asked her where the highway was. She smiled and said, "Follow me! I am going the same way." This lovely woman even pulled over to wait for me when another red light forced a stop. Tears, only this time of gratitude bubbled up but were quickly swallowed. I needed to pay attention to the road. God bless her for her kindness towards a stranger. She only sped away when I saw the highway turn off and gave her a wave of thanks.
Then: Walmart. The one near my uncle's house is massive. It's not laid out the same as other's I've been in. The amount of merchandise is staggering. As I struggled to locate the few items needed, already running on overwhelm from the emotions of the morning, the drive through unfamiliar streets, and having the daunting task at hand of clearing out the house ahead, more tears bubbled up and were quickly swallowed down. My uncle's comfort was the priority here.
The tears were mostly because of feeling overwhelmed and tired from all the organizing, the phone calls, and making sure my uncle had everything he needed.
A quick stop at the house was made for something to eat and to put name tags on the new clothes. An hour later, I went to the hospice for a bit before heading back to my uncle's house for the night.
A shower helped. Jammies helped dispel some of the feelings of overwhelm and helped me relax a bit for the first time in days.
As I sat at the kitchen table, a strange man and woman walked past the front door. The landlord showed them around the yard then they came in the house to look around. Potential tenants.
Wow. My uncle's bed barely had time to cool.
After they left, the landlord said he wanted me out of there as soon as possible because these new tenants wanted to come in and paint. He dumped his landlord woes, like how he hadn't charged my uncle two months rent as notice of vacating the property (his legal right) so therefore I had to get out ASAP.
"I was expecting your uncle to live here for at least another three months because the doctor gave him three to six months to live. Now I have to rent the place as quickly as possible and these people want it."
What?! Did he just say what I thought he said? The floodgates opened and I finally cried.
(Legally, he needed to give me twenty-four hours notice before coming in. Now why didn't I think of that then?)
I was mentally and emotionally incapable of stringing any sort of sentence together. Having this bomb dropped in my lap didn't help.
I really need to lift this up to the Lord because I am not feeling particularly charitable towards this man who was not only the landlord but claimed to be a long time friend. Yes, he helped my uncle out by taking out the garbage and checking in on him regularly. I can find gratitude for that.
What bothers me the most is why I allowed them in when it wasn't a good time. What bothers me is why I didn't ask him to wait until the next day to show the people the inside of the house. What bothers me the most is why I didn't ask him to speak with me in the morning because I was upset and feeling very vulnerable. It had been a hard, long day. What bothers me is why I felt it was my responsibility to solve his problems. What bothers me is why I didn't ask him to leave but instead felt obligated to listen to him talk at me for over half an hour.
Sigh. Old habits, old conditionings about dealing with men still run deep.
As things turned out, with my son's help, I didn't need until the 15th. There was some furniture to be donated that was left behind but I figured (spitefully I confess) the landlord could deal with it because I'd called a charity to come and get it but they couldn't be there until the 15th. Another friend of my uncle was going to do a dump run and look after the rented medical equipment needing to be picked up.
I am relieved it's done, that I am not at home thinking about having to go back and continue the daunting task of emptying my uncle's house. What bothers me is the bitter taste about how it ended up happening.
So how does all this tie into today's affirmation?
Lord, in all of this, many prayers passed over my lips. Thank You that You answered them. Thank You that You answered unspoken prayers as well. Thank You that my uncle has been placed in a Catholic hospice, that there will be an opportunity for my uncle to find comfort in Your arms. Thank You that You sustained me and gave me the strength to control the tears. Thank You for the people who have helped me during these difficult times.
Well, there's one thing about my identity I know for sure. I am grateful.
I am also finally feeling more myself. Two good night's sleep has made a world of difference.
I also trust that the Lord will help me grow beyond the limitations of my experiences, that one day I will be fully who He predestined me to be.
Sunday, 3 September 2017
Back in the Saddle by Susan L.
I am not going to do an affirmation today instead, there's a need to sit back, take stock and have a chat. It's been a hectic, crazy busy, very emotional time over the last several weeks. It was wonderful to finally get to church this morning although, as expected, the moment worship began, the stuffed down tears began to flow. I've been running in "git-er-done" mode and there hasn't been any space or time to allow any grieving to take place.
A friend came over yesterday and helped me load the car with boxes of household items to be donated. And there were Boxes. Not just from the last load to come out of my uncle's house but from other car loads I'd brought home while helping him clear things out. Just having an extra set of hands to pass boxes to made such a difference. It eliminated running up and down stairs. It wasn't as tiring for an already tired ole body.
I donated all of it to a local charity store. Not having stacked boxes in the basement has taken a weight off my shoulders. It has also filled me with more incentive to do my own purging when there's time.
There was one item that absolutely had to go. It was a small, storage bench my uncle had made that had graced their front porch for as long as I can remember. The moment I had tied it to the roof rack of my car, it hit me hard. My uncle wasn't coming home.
That was why my last long post was cut off so abruptly. A hospice had called wanting to do an assessment. They had a bed available. It was really just a formality because they had spoken to my uncle's family doctor who said he urgently needed the care they could provide. They will do everything in their power to keep him comfortable.
He was moved in the next day.
In yesterday's car loading, I forgot that the bench was in the shed before all the boxes were put into my car. Rather than unpack everything, my friend suggested putting it out at the end of the driveway. Just as I was heading out to the charity store, a woman with a pick-up truck was placing it in the back.
"It's perfect!" she exclaimed with delight, "I've two small children. It will make a perfect toy box!"
I am glad it's gone to a good home. I am glad that the handmade bench may become someone else's heirloom.
I've been home a few days but with the laptop on the fritz, I haven't been able to write except for the brief cell phone post. I took the laptop with me today to where I bought it. I was fully anticipating having to replace it. It turned on no problem. (Like the funny noise a car makes until it is at the garage!) They ran a couple of diagnostics but couldn't find anything wrong. They call it chip creak. I called it being up chip creek.
Apparently, sometimes something gets shaken up then gets shaken back into place which accounted for the lack of life every time I tried to turn the silly thing on.
Relieved, and happy they didn't try to sell me anything or even charge me for the diagnostics that took enough time to have a coffee and a gooey, sticky, hot cinnamon bun treat. Y2KComputors has earned all my future business. They are at the 400 Flea Market if you live locally.
I did get a new cell phone on Friday, taking advantage of the back-to-school sales. It too, at four years old was showing signs of leaving this earth. The fellow who helped me went the extra mile to make sure all my contact info, photos, etc. were transferred to the new one. That's a big help!
I can't tell you how nice it was last Thursday to mow the lawn. It was a massive dose of normalcy amidst all the upheaval and time away from home. I kept having to stop for wood frogs (one was a butterscotch colour!) and toads in all sizes who had been happily living in the long, lush grass. With all the rain this summer, it's extra thick and moist. Only one didn't get out of the way fast enough and I hadn't seen it. That made me rather sad but all the more vigilant and patient.
Even sitting here, mid-afternoon, typing away is helping restore some balance. If I have another good sleep tonight like the one that started at 9:30 last night, I should be back to normal in no time.
I have to give thanks for family, friends, strangers and businesses with integrity. I have to give thanks that even though I lost sight of the Lord during these frantic days, He never lost sight of me.
"What shall I render to the Lord for all His benefits toward me? I will take up the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord." Ps 116:12-13 NKJV
A friend came over yesterday and helped me load the car with boxes of household items to be donated. And there were Boxes. Not just from the last load to come out of my uncle's house but from other car loads I'd brought home while helping him clear things out. Just having an extra set of hands to pass boxes to made such a difference. It eliminated running up and down stairs. It wasn't as tiring for an already tired ole body.
I donated all of it to a local charity store. Not having stacked boxes in the basement has taken a weight off my shoulders. It has also filled me with more incentive to do my own purging when there's time.
There was one item that absolutely had to go. It was a small, storage bench my uncle had made that had graced their front porch for as long as I can remember. The moment I had tied it to the roof rack of my car, it hit me hard. My uncle wasn't coming home.
That was why my last long post was cut off so abruptly. A hospice had called wanting to do an assessment. They had a bed available. It was really just a formality because they had spoken to my uncle's family doctor who said he urgently needed the care they could provide. They will do everything in their power to keep him comfortable.
He was moved in the next day.
In yesterday's car loading, I forgot that the bench was in the shed before all the boxes were put into my car. Rather than unpack everything, my friend suggested putting it out at the end of the driveway. Just as I was heading out to the charity store, a woman with a pick-up truck was placing it in the back.
"It's perfect!" she exclaimed with delight, "I've two small children. It will make a perfect toy box!"
I am glad it's gone to a good home. I am glad that the handmade bench may become someone else's heirloom.
I've been home a few days but with the laptop on the fritz, I haven't been able to write except for the brief cell phone post. I took the laptop with me today to where I bought it. I was fully anticipating having to replace it. It turned on no problem. (Like the funny noise a car makes until it is at the garage!) They ran a couple of diagnostics but couldn't find anything wrong. They call it chip creak. I called it being up chip creek.
Apparently, sometimes something gets shaken up then gets shaken back into place which accounted for the lack of life every time I tried to turn the silly thing on.
Relieved, and happy they didn't try to sell me anything or even charge me for the diagnostics that took enough time to have a coffee and a gooey, sticky, hot cinnamon bun treat. Y2KComputors has earned all my future business. They are at the 400 Flea Market if you live locally.
I did get a new cell phone on Friday, taking advantage of the back-to-school sales. It too, at four years old was showing signs of leaving this earth. The fellow who helped me went the extra mile to make sure all my contact info, photos, etc. were transferred to the new one. That's a big help!
I can't tell you how nice it was last Thursday to mow the lawn. It was a massive dose of normalcy amidst all the upheaval and time away from home. I kept having to stop for wood frogs (one was a butterscotch colour!) and toads in all sizes who had been happily living in the long, lush grass. With all the rain this summer, it's extra thick and moist. Only one didn't get out of the way fast enough and I hadn't seen it. That made me rather sad but all the more vigilant and patient.
Even sitting here, mid-afternoon, typing away is helping restore some balance. If I have another good sleep tonight like the one that started at 9:30 last night, I should be back to normal in no time.
I have to give thanks for family, friends, strangers and businesses with integrity. I have to give thanks that even though I lost sight of the Lord during these frantic days, He never lost sight of me.
"What shall I render to the Lord for all His benefits toward me? I will take up the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord." Ps 116:12-13 NKJV
Friday, 1 September 2017
Patience, Please Lord by Susan L
This feels like a step back in time. My laptop has quit. My cell phone, after four years has also bit the biscuit. To be grateful, my cell phone company has back to school sales on. And I even remembered my sign in info for Blogger!
This entry is being done via phone so it's going to be a short one. I hope to get a new, refurbished one Sunday.
Sigh...on top of everything else...sigh again.
I couldn't do it without the Lord.
This entry is being done via phone so it's going to be a short one. I hope to get a new, refurbished one Sunday.
Sigh...on top of everything else...sigh again.
I couldn't do it without the Lord.
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The Robes
"Coming up behind Jesus, she (the woman who had bled for 12 years) touched the fringe of His robe." Luke 9:44 And she was heal...
