Tomorrow is the Sabbath for me and for many Christians. For millions, it is today. For many hundreds of millions, it was on Friday. Even within Christendom, some theologians are not convinced that the first day of the week should be a day of rest. After all, even God rested from His labors. Why should we rest before ours?
As I am not a theologian, I celebrate the Lord’s Day on Sunday because of tradition. I feel that it is essential for human beings to have a day of rest, a day without commitments, a day where the only clock is the rhythm of our bodies as it tells us when to eat or sleep. A day should be dedicated to feeding the spirit that is often tired and bruised. Undoubtedly, praising God comforts the soul and uplifts the spirit. Yet, many times, I’ve been so weary that I long to be still as the eternal truths in the hymns caress my soul.
Unfortunately, many of our churches do not offer quiet moments of reflection or meditative songs during which we can catch my breath. Sometimes, the tempo is as frenetic as the routine of the week just past and adds to the sensory overload of our lives.
Lauren Winner in the Mudhouse Sabbath challenged the way I approached my Sabbath. Ever since, I have tried to use Saturday as a day of preparation for worship by structuring my Sabbath Eve so that Saturday evening comes with a sense of accomplishment. When I free myself from the busyness, I can approach church services with a rested spirit so I can give my energy to worship. Then it seems that I’m less mindful of the noise and more of my spiritual receptors are opened.
Today, I attended a Conference at the Huntington Civic Center but selected a class on folk dancing and another on Be choosy, keep moving for the afternoon period. The exercise from both classes elevated my mood. By 4p.m. I was home and the early trip this morning through the fog-laden streets of Huntington no longer mattered. Much more important, as it is an issue for thankfulness, is the fact that I stopped to ask for directions at the building just before the Civic Center and found easy parking. I was unable to use my GPS as I could not find the connector pin but I also found a new, better way to another destination.
On returning home, my brother and I searched the car to find the tiny pin. He found it and gave the car an overdue cleaning in the process. Good days are made up of small achievements. Sometimes, they are marked by helping hands. When a day is crammed with both, I am really blessed.
So I approach the Sabbath tomorrow with thankfulness, determined to bring my praise and thanksgiving to the Lord of the Sabbath.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Easter
The concerns of yesterday evaporated before midnight so Easter morn broke without added anxieties. Church was crowded but it was so good to see my mother in Church having made the long trip from St Louis. The combined choir sang beautifully, the little angels of praise singing the words with gusto and wonder. It is as if they truly realized the meaning of the words. As the melody from the harmonious voices hit the ceiling, I thought of the kettle boiled dry because I had forgotten to switch it off. The boiling kettle nagged me more insistently as the service went on. I stayed because I did not want to draw attention but I was thrilled that I did for my mother in her late eighties who suffers with Alzheimer’s spoke coherently and movingly for about two minutes testifying to the goodness of God. What a lady
After the service, someone wanted to take a photo of my mom, niece and sisters or so I thought. It turned out to be a family picture instead of women from four generations. I did not do a good job of hiding my impatience and disappointment.
Eventually I went home. I did not expect the kettle to b e off. Well better safe than sorry but I would save a thirty-mile journey. I would have been able to linger after the service.
Fortunately, arriving at my brother’s house made up for the wasted journey. All my family in West Virginia was their and my sister-in law catered for about thirty of us. Sitting on the dock of their riverside home with full stomachs a most agreeable way to spend a spring. We seized the moment to recharge our batteries and renew relationships.
Later back at my house, we had another opportunity to continue family bonding. It was amusing to watch my brother asleep lying on my mom bringing to mind pictures of our childhood. Parents so often underestimate their role yet manage to give children the security to last a life –time that however old they are, a mother's hug or bed provides comfort and security.
After the service, someone wanted to take a photo of my mom, niece and sisters or so I thought. It turned out to be a family picture instead of women from four generations. I did not do a good job of hiding my impatience and disappointment.
Eventually I went home. I did not expect the kettle to b e off. Well better safe than sorry but I would save a thirty-mile journey. I would have been able to linger after the service.
Fortunately, arriving at my brother’s house made up for the wasted journey. All my family in West Virginia was their and my sister-in law catered for about thirty of us. Sitting on the dock of their riverside home with full stomachs a most agreeable way to spend a spring. We seized the moment to recharge our batteries and renew relationships.
Later back at my house, we had another opportunity to continue family bonding. It was amusing to watch my brother asleep lying on my mom bringing to mind pictures of our childhood. Parents so often underestimate their role yet manage to give children the security to last a life –time that however old they are, a mother's hug or bed provides comfort and security.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Thirty Ninth Day: Hope wins by a nose
My spirit feels so rested when I have a day at home with no appointments or deadlines except to cook for visitors in the evening. I woke up, dressed in indoor slacks, did most of the little tasks that get left when you are away from home over twelve hours a day, This is going to be my routine for the foreseeable future so I am busy with to do lists to ensure that my appointments are kept next week.
Since 2.p.m o’clock I’ve been expecting my mother, two of my sisters and two nephews. I was not at all worried when they did not arrive three hours ago but now the meal is ready and I have time to be apprehensive.
To add to my uneasiness, my brother who has been making a remarkable recovery is at the hospital after experiencing unexplained pain. Happiness is so fragile. A word, a fall, a sudden movement, a forgotten task can change the world forever,
Tonight, I have all the ingredients for celebration. I hope that I’ll be able do that in this infrequent get-together of family from three States but if I can’t then I will count my many blessings and know that God who has been with me on this special journey will not disappear
Earlier in the day, my goddaughter phoned me so that I can wish her a happy birthday. She is forty-one years old with a great deal of maturity. For most of her life, we lost touch so I was a very absent godmother. Last year, I met her mother who re-united us. Since then we have been maintained contact but I had long forgotten her birthday. So I was delighted that she called. She is obviously giving me a second chance to be in her life and I intend to take it.
So, despite the uncertainties of this day, I cling to hope. The Resurrected Lord, whose victory we’ll be celebrating tomorrow is the incarnation of hope in my situation. Because He lives, I can face tomorrow, despite my fears.
Since 2.p.m o’clock I’ve been expecting my mother, two of my sisters and two nephews. I was not at all worried when they did not arrive three hours ago but now the meal is ready and I have time to be apprehensive.
To add to my uneasiness, my brother who has been making a remarkable recovery is at the hospital after experiencing unexplained pain. Happiness is so fragile. A word, a fall, a sudden movement, a forgotten task can change the world forever,
Tonight, I have all the ingredients for celebration. I hope that I’ll be able do that in this infrequent get-together of family from three States but if I can’t then I will count my many blessings and know that God who has been with me on this special journey will not disappear
Earlier in the day, my goddaughter phoned me so that I can wish her a happy birthday. She is forty-one years old with a great deal of maturity. For most of her life, we lost touch so I was a very absent godmother. Last year, I met her mother who re-united us. Since then we have been maintained contact but I had long forgotten her birthday. So I was delighted that she called. She is obviously giving me a second chance to be in her life and I intend to take it.
So, despite the uncertainties of this day, I cling to hope. The Resurrected Lord, whose victory we’ll be celebrating tomorrow is the incarnation of hope in my situation. Because He lives, I can face tomorrow, despite my fears.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday-Repentant Martha
Who would believe that I forgot that today was Good Friday? Working for a Christian non-profit, I had the day off. I planned to make Hot cross buns yesterday but when I woke this morning, the significance of the day slipped my mind.
I read Isaiah22 twice to get the meaning, was awed by the vivid descriptions of war. The language was majestic, the metaphors so original, written thousands of years ago but still capable of conveying the total horror of war in a nuclear age. After all, the bitterness experienced in war does not change. The loss of a tent or a range house is equally painful when it is called home. The death of a soldier or massacre of civilians is lamented so this morning, my mind was trying to shut out these images. They stayed with me even while I tried to remember that God wants us to trust Him and not to depend on our own defenses.
I kept the doctor’s appointment, and then shopped for groceries, especially the yeast which was an essential ingredient for hot cross buns. I also bought an Easter lily.
I returned to the Jubilee Square with my nephew, to get a wardrobe forgetting the glue, which would require another trip later. As the morning raced by, I realized I had to hurry to get the buns ready.
I plugged in my food mixer for quick mixing only to find that I had mixed the yeast with the dry ingredients so had to start again. My British cook book and my Cuisinart manual as well as the yeast directions lay side by side on the table. I’m still not familiar with the processor. I’ve never made cross buns before so it was a project of trial and error. In truth, it seemed to be more errors than trial.
So, did I reflect on the amazing love of God that ransomed me? To my shame, not really! I have been so deeply engrossed in activities about Easter that I found little time for spiritual reflection.
This is not the first time I’ve acted like Martha and allowed myself to be caught up in many things. I’ve always been on Martha’s side, knowing that if we all sit down, even important things can be left undone, However, Mary had her priorities right. She did not miss out on relationship. So as I prepare to entertain eleven people tomorrow, I plan to try very hard to work at improving our relationship, every thing else is secondary. It is far too easy for me to be consumed with preparation than with people. It is sobering to think that the things I do for God can take time away from knowing Him.
Who would believe that I forgot that today was Good Friday? Working for a Christian non-profit, I had the day off. I planned to make Hot cross buns yesterday but when I woke this morning, the significance of the day slipped my mind.
I read Isaiah22 twice to get the meaning, was awed by the vivid descriptions of war. The language was majestic, the metaphors so original, written thousands of years ago but still capable of conveying the total horror of war in a nuclear age. After all, the bitterness experienced in war does not change. The loss of a tent or a range house is equally painful when it is called home. The death of a soldier or massacre of civilians is lamented so this morning, my mind was trying to shut out these images. They stayed with me even while I tried to remember that God wants us to trust Him and not to depend on our own defenses.
I kept the doctor’s appointment, and then shopped for groceries, especially the yeast which was an essential ingredient for hot cross buns. I also bought an Easter lily.
I returned to the Jubilee Square with my nephew, to get a wardrobe forgetting the glue, which would require another trip later. As the morning raced by, I realized I had to hurry to get the bus ready.
I plugged in my food mixer for quick mixing only to find that I had mixed the yeast with the dry ingredients so had to start again. My British cook book and my Cuisinart manual as well as the yeast directions lay side by side on the table. I’m still not familiar with the processor. I’ve never made cross buns before so it was a project of trial and error. In truth, it seemed to be more errors than trial.
So, did I reflect on the amazing love of God that ransomed me? To my shame, not really! I have been so deeply engrossed in activities about Easter that I found little time for spiritual reflection.
This is not the first time I’ve acted like Martha and allowed myself to be caught up in many things. I’ve always been on Martha’s side, knowing that if we all sit down, even important things can be left undone, However, Mary had her priorities right. She did not miss out on relationship. So as I prepare to entertain eleven people tomorrow, I plan to try very hard to work at improving our relationship, every thing else is secondary. It is far too easy for me to be consumed with preparation than with people. It is sobering to think that the things I do for God can take time away from knowing Him.
I read Isaiah22 twice to get the meaning, was awed by the vivid descriptions of war. The language was majestic, the metaphors so original, written thousands of years ago but still capable of conveying the total horror of war in a nuclear age. After all, the bitterness experienced in war does not change. The loss of a tent or a range house is equally painful when it is called home. The death of a soldier or massacre of civilians is lamented so this morning, my mind was trying to shut out these images. They stayed with me even while I tried to remember that God wants us to trust Him and not to depend on our own defenses.
I kept the doctor’s appointment, and then shopped for groceries, especially the yeast which was an essential ingredient for hot cross buns. I also bought an Easter lily.
I returned to the Jubilee Square with my nephew, to get a wardrobe forgetting the glue, which would require another trip later. As the morning raced by, I realized I had to hurry to get the buns ready.
I plugged in my food mixer for quick mixing only to find that I had mixed the yeast with the dry ingredients so had to start again. My British cook book and my Cuisinart manual as well as the yeast directions lay side by side on the table. I’m still not familiar with the processor. I’ve never made cross buns before so it was a project of trial and error. In truth, it seemed to be more errors than trial.
So, did I reflect on the amazing love of God that ransomed me? To my shame, not really! I have been so deeply engrossed in activities about Easter that I found little time for spiritual reflection.
This is not the first time I’ve acted like Martha and allowed myself to be caught up in many things. I’ve always been on Martha’s side, knowing that if we all sit down, even important things can be left undone, However, Mary had her priorities right. She did not miss out on relationship. So as I prepare to entertain eleven people tomorrow, I plan to try very hard to work at improving our relationship, every thing else is secondary. It is far too easy for me to be consumed with preparation than with people. It is sobering to think that the things I do for God can take time away from knowing Him.
Who would believe that I forgot that today was Good Friday? Working for a Christian non-profit, I had the day off. I planned to make Hot cross buns yesterday but when I woke this morning, the significance of the day slipped my mind.
I read Isaiah22 twice to get the meaning, was awed by the vivid descriptions of war. The language was majestic, the metaphors so original, written thousands of years ago but still capable of conveying the total horror of war in a nuclear age. After all, the bitterness experienced in war does not change. The loss of a tent or a range house is equally painful when it is called home. The death of a soldier or massacre of civilians is lamented so this morning, my mind was trying to shut out these images. They stayed with me even while I tried to remember that God wants us to trust Him and not to depend on our own defenses.
I kept the doctor’s appointment, and then shopped for groceries, especially the yeast which was an essential ingredient for hot cross buns. I also bought an Easter lily.
I returned to the Jubilee Square with my nephew, to get a wardrobe forgetting the glue, which would require another trip later. As the morning raced by, I realized I had to hurry to get the bus ready.
I plugged in my food mixer for quick mixing only to find that I had mixed the yeast with the dry ingredients so had to start again. My British cook book and my Cuisinart manual as well as the yeast directions lay side by side on the table. I’m still not familiar with the processor. I’ve never made cross buns before so it was a project of trial and error. In truth, it seemed to be more errors than trial.
So, did I reflect on the amazing love of God that ransomed me? To my shame, not really! I have been so deeply engrossed in activities about Easter that I found little time for spiritual reflection.
This is not the first time I’ve acted like Martha and allowed myself to be caught up in many things. I’ve always been on Martha’s side, knowing that if we all sit down, even important things can be left undone, However, Mary had her priorities right. She did not miss out on relationship. So as I prepare to entertain eleven people tomorrow, I plan to try very hard to work at improving our relationship, every thing else is secondary. It is far too easy for me to be consumed with preparation than with people. It is sobering to think that the things I do for God can take time away from knowing Him.
Thirty Seventh Day-Serving in Relating
Holy Thursday, night of the Last supper, although he knew that His hour was about to come and He wished that the cup could pass from Him, like a passionate teacher, Jesus took time to include another lesson. He wanted one more review before the finals. It is significant that He chose a lesson on humility and service. He, part of the Godhead used manly hands to wash and dry the dusty feet of his followers. When Peter objected, no doubt projecting on to Jesus his own sense of precedence, Jesus compassionately enabled him to submit by appealing to his self-interest. Peter wanted so much to be identified with Jesus that he was willing to have his whole body washed by Him Yet didn’t easily grasp the concept of servanthood.
Service is often mistaken for servility but Jesus by His action gave new meaning to the word. When I cheerfully use my initiative to meet the needs of others, I serve them no matter who or what they are. Therefore by demonstrating patience in a disruptive class or holding that class accountable for incomplete assignments is serving according to need.
So In the noise of chatter, people feel unheard. Many want to tell their stories. I find it extremely difficult to serve by listening and I find myself privileging some stories more than others. I try not to avoid blame shifting stories or recurring themes of victimization. My mind says: you made your own choices whilst my heart declares; you, but for God’s grace. So in servanthood, I pay attention to the story that frames the words. Whether they exaggerate, are dramatic o r are confrontational with their life-style, their story telling gives glimpses of the soul. Like Peter it is sometimes hard to wash “the feet” but learning from him, I know that a servant spirit expresses a loving heart.
Service is often mistaken for servility but Jesus by His action gave new meaning to the word. When I cheerfully use my initiative to meet the needs of others, I serve them no matter who or what they are. Therefore by demonstrating patience in a disruptive class or holding that class accountable for incomplete assignments is serving according to need.
So In the noise of chatter, people feel unheard. Many want to tell their stories. I find it extremely difficult to serve by listening and I find myself privileging some stories more than others. I try not to avoid blame shifting stories or recurring themes of victimization. My mind says: you made your own choices whilst my heart declares; you, but for God’s grace. So in servanthood, I pay attention to the story that frames the words. Whether they exaggerate, are dramatic o r are confrontational with their life-style, their story telling gives glimpses of the soul. Like Peter it is sometimes hard to wash “the feet” but learning from him, I know that a servant spirit expresses a loving heart.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Thirty Sixth Day-Working in Eden
Yesterday, I talked with someone who found a job. His delight in working reminded me that even in Eden, God gave Adam something to do. . He was put in the garden to work and take care of it. He did not have to pull weeds, as sin had not entered the world. Everything was perfect so what did he really do?
Well, I won’t ever know but what I do know is that God attaches meaning to work beyond its monetary value. Imagine having a divine commission to be a farmer r or a gardener. Both involve working with my hands. Was this God’s way of honoring labor?
There is a continuous contest between man and machines, between skilled labor and college graduates. Electricians and plumbers often earn more than some university professors. Yet society attaches different values to their job.
Work by its very nature is redeeming if approached from the divine perspective. It helps to structure our days and can increase our friendships. To find our niche at work adds immeasurably to our well-being. But it cannot be another god to be worshipped because it meets my self esteem needs and fills our days. Eventually, I will retire and if have not forged another identity, the transition will be traumatic.
In the meantime, as I eat and drink, I take Ecclesiastes to heart: There is nothing better for a man than to eat and drink and tell himself that his labor is good. Of course, as a woman, it is no less fulfilling.
Well, I won’t ever know but what I do know is that God attaches meaning to work beyond its monetary value. Imagine having a divine commission to be a farmer r or a gardener. Both involve working with my hands. Was this God’s way of honoring labor?
There is a continuous contest between man and machines, between skilled labor and college graduates. Electricians and plumbers often earn more than some university professors. Yet society attaches different values to their job.
Work by its very nature is redeeming if approached from the divine perspective. It helps to structure our days and can increase our friendships. To find our niche at work adds immeasurably to our well-being. But it cannot be another god to be worshipped because it meets my self esteem needs and fills our days. Eventually, I will retire and if have not forged another identity, the transition will be traumatic.
In the meantime, as I eat and drink, I take Ecclesiastes to heart: There is nothing better for a man than to eat and drink and tell himself that his labor is good. Of course, as a woman, it is no less fulfilling.
Thirty fifth Day; Wormlike and Worshipful
The weather man was right. It did rain this morning so plans to mow the grass were postponed again. However, later in the day, it became a good time for pulling weeds as the water soaked earth made it easier to get to the roots.
Hours slip away when my fingers work in the warm, moist earth as I smell dry leaves and bursting buds. Now and then fat luscious worms will pause long enough from aerating the soil to make me queasy by their shiny, sometimes luminous appearance. Unmindful of what humans think and do, they burrow relentlessly, not thanked by man for making his crops better.
I don’t know if worms miss the family and friends so thoughtlessly crushed by people when they dare to show themselves. Surely, I think that by now thy would learn to hide whenever the earth above them is disturbed but they seem unconcerned with the risk.
I wish I were as totally focused on what I was created to do as the worms are or even as organized as the bees. But I allow myself to be distracted or discouraged. I am mindful of the risks to trust and to love so I hesitate and fail to seize the moment. Worse still, unlike these creatures that can only be themselves, I’m often uncertain as to what I should be doing
Of course, I am allowed countless choices as well as made in the image of the Creator of multi-universes. Therefore, my mind is multi-dimensional. Yet, my purpose really is expressed in the injunction “to glorify God”. How I glorify Him has no script. Therein lies my dilemma because I could subvert my purpose by so many good things. Few people want to stand out in the Christian crowd for the very good reason that history is rich with people who were led astray by their own imagination. Nevertheless, despite this risk, I have to glorify God as only I can.
As the days of Lent are drawing to a close, I have a sense more than ever of that purpose.
I shall keep the worms in mind, not least because when I’m done with my body, it will be all theirs anyway.
Hours slip away when my fingers work in the warm, moist earth as I smell dry leaves and bursting buds. Now and then fat luscious worms will pause long enough from aerating the soil to make me queasy by their shiny, sometimes luminous appearance. Unmindful of what humans think and do, they burrow relentlessly, not thanked by man for making his crops better.
I don’t know if worms miss the family and friends so thoughtlessly crushed by people when they dare to show themselves. Surely, I think that by now thy would learn to hide whenever the earth above them is disturbed but they seem unconcerned with the risk.
I wish I were as totally focused on what I was created to do as the worms are or even as organized as the bees. But I allow myself to be distracted or discouraged. I am mindful of the risks to trust and to love so I hesitate and fail to seize the moment. Worse still, unlike these creatures that can only be themselves, I’m often uncertain as to what I should be doing
Of course, I am allowed countless choices as well as made in the image of the Creator of multi-universes. Therefore, my mind is multi-dimensional. Yet, my purpose really is expressed in the injunction “to glorify God”. How I glorify Him has no script. Therein lies my dilemma because I could subvert my purpose by so many good things. Few people want to stand out in the Christian crowd for the very good reason that history is rich with people who were led astray by their own imagination. Nevertheless, despite this risk, I have to glorify God as only I can.
As the days of Lent are drawing to a close, I have a sense more than ever of that purpose.
I shall keep the worms in mind, not least because when I’m done with my body, it will be all theirs anyway.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Thirty Fourth Day; Walk of Honeysuckle and Daffodils
We stopped suddenly teased by the scent of honeysuckle. I inhaled deeply and an ordinary walk around the neighborhood was transformed. The heady scent reminded me of my own English garden so lovingly tended. After the evening watering, the floral scents blended in the air but the roses that gave scent to those who linger by their stems were also wrapped in honeysuckle aroma. I envied the birds settling down for the night in an apple tree with the air so heavy with perfume. My little garden had a touch of Eden, It’s tranquility made me reflective.
Perhaps, it was because we were passing through forests and woods but the same sweet air in Mandalay created a different mood as mile after mile of roadway was like an outdoor perfumery It might be fanciful to think that one of the little children in Heaven was playing with God’s perfume for this glorious scent was in the country side across paths almost deserted by people. I can recall the feelings of adventure and excitement as I drove by sniffing the air to fill my lungs again and again.
Honeysuckle and frangipani are still two of my favorite flowers because of the magic of that journey across the Middle Kingdom of Mandalay. But if I love them for their aroma, I crave daffodils for its color and timing as it signals the beginning of spring, which reminds me of the resurrection. My life, like each year, has opportunities to begin anew if I but seize them.
So an ordinary walk with friends became an unusual treat of companionship, color and fragrance. What a perfect ending to any day!
Perhaps, it was because we were passing through forests and woods but the same sweet air in Mandalay created a different mood as mile after mile of roadway was like an outdoor perfumery It might be fanciful to think that one of the little children in Heaven was playing with God’s perfume for this glorious scent was in the country side across paths almost deserted by people. I can recall the feelings of adventure and excitement as I drove by sniffing the air to fill my lungs again and again.
Honeysuckle and frangipani are still two of my favorite flowers because of the magic of that journey across the Middle Kingdom of Mandalay. But if I love them for their aroma, I crave daffodils for its color and timing as it signals the beginning of spring, which reminds me of the resurrection. My life, like each year, has opportunities to begin anew if I but seize them.
So an ordinary walk with friends became an unusual treat of companionship, color and fragrance. What a perfect ending to any day!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Thirty Third Day-Broken to be used
This was not one of my best days but there has been so much to be grateful. Someone has said:” Don’t sweat the small stuff”. And today was made up of small stuff.
My temporary cap fell out taking with it a bit of tooth. I returned to work only to find that we had food without a tablecloth. So I rushed to the shops there I dithered between, uncertain which line to join. Unfortunately, I miscalculated for the shopper ahead of me had two trolleys and a file of coupons. I could not believe my eyes. I darted to the other counter but it was laden with groceries ad as she was out of ns of cans remained in her basket. The minutes ticked by into lateness. Space doze. I prayed for grace as I asked to have another till open because I did not want to appear rude. I ran out of the store clutching the tablecloth. When I was almost there, someone asked me to get him or her some eggs thinking
I spent two hours working on a presentation and just as I was about to send it to the printers, I lost it. Unfortunately, I had to see the dentist so I asked another colleague to re-type it. She gave me the good news just before the dentist opened my mouth. She had found it! The dentist was also able to repair my tooth ready for capping.
Rushing back to the office my email did not work. Several attempts to get the footnote with acknowledgements on one page failed but eventually, I got all 44 copies and went to the meeting in the middle of the tiebreaker. Then heard the news. Presentation due next time. All small stuff that frustrate and irritate.
The high spots: the incredible work the dentist did, a frank discussion with my brother and a spirit of thankfulness that there could have been more difficult irritations. Instead of small stuff, there could have been big stuff like a child being hurt, a father losing his job. Even with irritations, gratitude and joy permeate the day.
Friday was bathed in sunshine without the sticky heat. Any islander would have enjoyed the weather. Although high winds threatened a storm, the raindrops peeped out timorously before withdrawing into the clouds. I bought a beautiful table for work and enough coffee and tea for five hundred cups. It has been an exhaustingly good week. My youngest brother sits beside me. Any moment now, my niece and her friend will turn from dinner and fill me in on their lives in the Carolinas. We are content.
In spite of my apprehensions at the dentist, my tooth no longer nags me with a continuous ache. I thanked the dentist.
I have important work unfinished but I did some important things. Cela vie!
Tomorrow has its own demands that require an early start. No lie -in this week.
Yet, I’m so very thankful for God’s grace expressed in safety while going in the parking bay, giving us patient assistants to help us put the tab l and e in my car, placing pleasant clinicians across our path. Kindness is empowering and this week I have been touched by many fingers, Most of my contacts took little time but that pause to say”hi” broke the routine and set up a chain reaction of good-will.
Kindness often costs so little but when freely given, sweetens our lives richer and makes it smoother.
My brother remarked that “Today, was a good day, sis” more than once so I began to pay attention. We both cooked breakfast for our niece, her friend and another brother. We tried to. I don’t like eggs, particularly scrambled so was a bit thrown when they requested it. I whipped the eggs, added too much milk or so my niece told me when I asked her opinion. The grits were better although like scrambled eggs, it was the first time I was serving it.
My niece and her friend refused the beans and tea, She also passed on the grits but everyone ate bacon and eggs. The banter was excellent.
As in millions of homes, meal times aren’t only about the food. They are about caring, sharing and just being together. So breakfast was a success.
My youngest brother and I left the dishes unwashed and rushed to the library. He joined the library and I obtained a duplicate card. He spent an hour in the computer lab and I passed the time alone in the Books for sale section. I could not buy all the books but among the six I selected were the works by Agatha Christie’s Poirot and A Sense of History –the best Writing from the pages of AMERICAN HERITAGE, Mindful of my lack of an American education, I try to immerse my self in its literature whenever possible.
Leaving the library, I visited a carpet shop to find a rug. As my brother looked around, I checked my email and found that although I did not win a conference ticket, Proverbs 31 will publish my article. We completed our excursion by taking the scenic river route to check on some furniture shops. In the end, we found what we wanted nearer home.
We bought some extra fruit and toilet paper before returning home. So, what made the day good? Good days are often made of ordinary things: Cooking, reading, and shopping
Piecing together the little things, a tapestry of caring, commitment and cheerfulness emerges. It is better than a good day when love is shared and accepted.
My temporary cap fell out taking with it a bit of tooth. I returned to work only to find that we had food without a tablecloth. So I rushed to the shops there I dithered between, uncertain which line to join. Unfortunately, I miscalculated for the shopper ahead of me had two trolleys and a file of coupons. I could not believe my eyes. I darted to the other counter but it was laden with groceries ad as she was out of ns of cans remained in her basket. The minutes ticked by into lateness. Space doze. I prayed for grace as I asked to have another till open because I did not want to appear rude. I ran out of the store clutching the tablecloth. When I was almost there, someone asked me to get him or her some eggs thinking
I spent two hours working on a presentation and just as I was about to send it to the printers, I lost it. Unfortunately, I had to see the dentist so I asked another colleague to re-type it. She gave me the good news just before the dentist opened my mouth. She had found it! The dentist was also able to repair my tooth ready for capping.
Rushing back to the office my email did not work. Several attempts to get the footnote with acknowledgements on one page failed but eventually, I got all 44 copies and went to the meeting in the middle of the tiebreaker. Then heard the news. Presentation due next time. All small stuff that frustrate and irritate.
The high spots: the incredible work the dentist did, a frank discussion with my brother and a spirit of thankfulness that there could have been more difficult irritations. Instead of small stuff, there could have been big stuff like a child being hurt, a father losing his job. Even with irritations, gratitude and joy permeate the day.
Friday was bathed in sunshine without the sticky heat. Any islander would have enjoyed the weather. Although high winds threatened a storm, the raindrops peeped out timorously before withdrawing into the clouds. I bought a beautiful table for work and enough coffee and tea for five hundred cups. It has been an exhaustingly good week. My youngest brother sits beside me. Any moment now, my niece and her friend will turn from dinner and fill me in on their lives in the Carolinas. We are content.
In spite of my apprehensions at the dentist, my tooth no longer nags me with a continuous ache. I thanked the dentist.
I have important work unfinished but I did some important things. Cela vie!
Tomorrow has its own demands that require an early start. No lie -in this week.
Yet, I’m so very thankful for God’s grace expressed in safety while going in the parking bay, giving us patient assistants to help us put the tab l and e in my car, placing pleasant clinicians across our path. Kindness is empowering and this week I have been touched by many fingers, Most of my contacts took little time but that pause to say”hi” broke the routine and set up a chain reaction of good-will.
Kindness often costs so little but when freely given, sweetens our lives richer and makes it smoother.
My brother remarked that “Today, was a good day, sis” more than once so I began to pay attention. We both cooked breakfast for our niece, her friend and another brother. We tried to. I don’t like eggs, particularly scrambled so was a bit thrown when they requested it. I whipped the eggs, added too much milk or so my niece told me when I asked her opinion. The grits were better although like scrambled eggs, it was the first time I was serving it.
My niece and her friend refused the beans and tea, She also passed on the grits but everyone ate bacon and eggs. The banter was excellent.
As in millions of homes, meal times aren’t only about the food. They are about caring, sharing and just being together. So breakfast was a success.
My youngest brother and I left the dishes unwashed and rushed to the library. He joined the library and I obtained a duplicate card. He spent an hour in the computer lab and I passed the time alone in the Books for sale section. I could not buy all the books but among the six I selected were the works by Agatha Christie’s Poirot and A Sense of History –the best Writing from the pages of AMERICAN HERITAGE, Mindful of my lack of an American education, I try to immerse my self in its literature whenever possible.
Leaving the library, I visited a carpet shop to find a rug. As my brother looked around, I checked my email and found that although I did not win a conference ticket, Proverbs 31 will publish my article. We completed our excursion by taking the scenic river route to check on some furniture shops. In the end, we found what we wanted nearer home.
We bought some extra fruit and toilet paper before returning home. So, what made the day good? Good days are often made of ordinary things: Cooking, reading, and shopping
Piecing together the little things, a tapestry of caring, commitment and cheerfulness emerges. It is better than a good day when love is shared and accepted.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Thirty Second Day-A good day of simple Things
This was not one of my best days but there has been so much to be grateful. Someone has said:” Don’t sweat the small stuff”. And today was made up of small stuff.
My temporary cap fell out taking with it a bit of tooth. I returned to work only to find that we had food without a tablecloth. So I rushed to the shops there I dithered between, uncertain which line to join. Unfortunately, I miscalculated for the shopper ahead of me had two trolleys and a file of coupons. I could not believe my eyes. I darted to the other counter but it was laden with groceries ad as she was out of ns of cans remained in her basket. The minutes ticked by into lateness. Space doze. I prayed for grace as I asked to have another till open because I did not want to appear rude. I ran out of the store clutching the tablecloth. When I was almost there, someone asked me to get him or her some eggs thinking
I spent two hours working on a presentation and just as I was about to send it to the printers, I lost it. Unfortunately, I had to see the dentist so I asked another colleague to re-type it. She gave me the good news just before the dentist opened my mouth. She had found it! The dentist was also able to repair my tooth ready for capping.
Rushing back to the office my email did not work. Several attempts to get the footnote with acknowledgements on one page failed but eventually, I got all 44 copies and went to the meeting in the middle of the tiebreaker. Then heard the news. Presentation due next time. All small stuff that frustrate and irritate.
The high spots: the incredible work the dentist did, a frank discussion with my brother and a spirit of thankfulness that there could have been more difficult irritations. Instead of small stuff, there could have been big stuff like a child being hurt, a father losing his job. Even with irritations, gratitude and joy permeate the day.
Friday was bathed in sunshine without the sticky heat. Any islander would have enjoyed the weather. Although high winds threatened a storm, the raindrops peeped out timorously before withdrawing into the clouds. I bought a beautiful table for work and enough coffee and tea for five hundred cups. It has been an exhaustingly good week. My youngest brother sits beside me. Any moment now, my niece and her friend will turn from dinner and fill me in on their lives in the Carolinas. We are content.
In spite of my apprehensions at the dentist, my tooth no longer nags me with a continuous ache. I thanked the dentist.
I have important work unfinished but I did some important things. Cela vie!
Tomorrow has its own demands that require an early start. No lie -in this week.
Yet, I’m so very thankful for God’s grace expressed in safety while going in the parking bay, giving us patient assistants to help us put the tab l and e in my car, placing pleasant clinicians across our path. Kindness is empowering and this week I have been touched by many fingers, Most of my contacts took little time but that pause to say”hi” broke the routine and set up a chain reaction of good-will.
Kindness often costs so little but when freely given, sweetens our lives richer and makes it smoother.
My brother remarked that “Today, was a good day, sis” more than once so I began to pay attention. We both cooked breakfast for our niece, her friend and another brother. We tried to. I don’t like eggs, particularly scrambled so was a bit thrown when they requested it. I whipped the eggs, added too much milk or so my niece told me when I asked her opinion. The grits were better although like scrambled eggs, it was the first time I was serving it.
My niece and her friend refused the beans and tea, She also passed on the grits but everyone ate bacon and eggs. The banter was excellent.
As in millions of homes, meal times aren’t only about the food. They are about caring, sharing and just being together. So breakfast was a success.
My youngest brother and I left the dishes unwashed and rushed to the library. He joined the library and I obtained a duplicate card. He spent an hour in the computer lab and I passed the time alone in the Books for sale section. I could not buy all the books but among the six I selected were the works by Agatha Christie’s Poirot and A Sense of History –the best Writing from the pages of AMERICAN HERITAGE, Mindful of my lack of an American education, I try to immerse my self in its literature whenever possible.
Leaving the library, I visited a carpet shop to find a rug. As my brother looked around, I checked my email and found that although I did not win a conference ticket, Proverbs 31 will publish my article. We completed our excursion by taking the scenic river route to check on some furniture shops. In the end, we found what we wanted nearer home.
We bought some extra fruit and toilet paper before returning home. So, what made the day good? Good days are often made of ordinary things: Cooking, reading, and shopping
Piecing together the little things, a tapestry of caring, commitment and cheerfulness emerges. It is better than a good day when love is shared and accepted.
My temporary cap fell out taking with it a bit of tooth. I returned to work only to find that we had food without a tablecloth. So I rushed to the shops there I dithered between, uncertain which line to join. Unfortunately, I miscalculated for the shopper ahead of me had two trolleys and a file of coupons. I could not believe my eyes. I darted to the other counter but it was laden with groceries ad as she was out of ns of cans remained in her basket. The minutes ticked by into lateness. Space doze. I prayed for grace as I asked to have another till open because I did not want to appear rude. I ran out of the store clutching the tablecloth. When I was almost there, someone asked me to get him or her some eggs thinking
I spent two hours working on a presentation and just as I was about to send it to the printers, I lost it. Unfortunately, I had to see the dentist so I asked another colleague to re-type it. She gave me the good news just before the dentist opened my mouth. She had found it! The dentist was also able to repair my tooth ready for capping.
Rushing back to the office my email did not work. Several attempts to get the footnote with acknowledgements on one page failed but eventually, I got all 44 copies and went to the meeting in the middle of the tiebreaker. Then heard the news. Presentation due next time. All small stuff that frustrate and irritate.
The high spots: the incredible work the dentist did, a frank discussion with my brother and a spirit of thankfulness that there could have been more difficult irritations. Instead of small stuff, there could have been big stuff like a child being hurt, a father losing his job. Even with irritations, gratitude and joy permeate the day.
Friday was bathed in sunshine without the sticky heat. Any islander would have enjoyed the weather. Although high winds threatened a storm, the raindrops peeped out timorously before withdrawing into the clouds. I bought a beautiful table for work and enough coffee and tea for five hundred cups. It has been an exhaustingly good week. My youngest brother sits beside me. Any moment now, my niece and her friend will turn from dinner and fill me in on their lives in the Carolinas. We are content.
In spite of my apprehensions at the dentist, my tooth no longer nags me with a continuous ache. I thanked the dentist.
I have important work unfinished but I did some important things. Cela vie!
Tomorrow has its own demands that require an early start. No lie -in this week.
Yet, I’m so very thankful for God’s grace expressed in safety while going in the parking bay, giving us patient assistants to help us put the tab l and e in my car, placing pleasant clinicians across our path. Kindness is empowering and this week I have been touched by many fingers, Most of my contacts took little time but that pause to say”hi” broke the routine and set up a chain reaction of good-will.
Kindness often costs so little but when freely given, sweetens our lives richer and makes it smoother.
My brother remarked that “Today, was a good day, sis” more than once so I began to pay attention. We both cooked breakfast for our niece, her friend and another brother. We tried to. I don’t like eggs, particularly scrambled so was a bit thrown when they requested it. I whipped the eggs, added too much milk or so my niece told me when I asked her opinion. The grits were better although like scrambled eggs, it was the first time I was serving it.
My niece and her friend refused the beans and tea, She also passed on the grits but everyone ate bacon and eggs. The banter was excellent.
As in millions of homes, meal times aren’t only about the food. They are about caring, sharing and just being together. So breakfast was a success.
My youngest brother and I left the dishes unwashed and rushed to the library. He joined the library and I obtained a duplicate card. He spent an hour in the computer lab and I passed the time alone in the Books for sale section. I could not buy all the books but among the six I selected were the works by Agatha Christie’s Poirot and A Sense of History –the best Writing from the pages of AMERICAN HERITAGE, Mindful of my lack of an American education, I try to immerse my self in its literature whenever possible.
Leaving the library, I visited a carpet shop to find a rug. As my brother looked around, I checked my email and found that although I did not win a conference ticket, Proverbs 31 will publish my article. We completed our excursion by taking the scenic river route to check on some furniture shops. In the end, we found what we wanted nearer home.
We bought some extra fruit and toilet paper before returning home. So, what made the day good? Good days are often made of ordinary things: Cooking, reading, and shopping
Piecing together the little things, a tapestry of caring, commitment and cheerfulness emerges. It is better than a good day when love is shared and accepted.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Thirty First Day. Unfinished business
Friday was bathed in sunshine without the sticky heat. Any islander would have enjoyed the weather. Although high winds threatened a storm, the raindrops peeped out timorously before withdrawing into the clouds. I bought a beautiful table for work and enough coffee and tea for five hundred cups. It has been an exhaustingly good week. My youngest brother sits beside me. Any moment now, my niece and her friend will turn from dinner and fill me in on their lives in the Carolinas. We are content.
In spite of my apprehensions at the dentist, my tooth no longer nags me with a continuous ache. I thanked the dentist.
I have important work unfinished. I am keeping my stomach controlled and my mind focussed instead of living under the tyranny of a gurgling stomach and racing mind. This week I also did some important things. Tomorrow has its own demands that require an early start. No lie -in this week. Cela vie!
Yet, I’m so very thankful for God’s grace expressed in safety while going in the parking bay, giving us patient assistants to help us put the tab l and e in my car, placing pleasant clinicians across our path. Kindness is empowering and this week I have been touched by many fingers, Most of my contacts took little time but that pause to say”hi” broke the routine and set up a chain of good-will.
Kindness often costs so little but when freely given, sweetens our lives and emboldens us to face the world. Kindness makes the world seem cozier as we realize we share our world. We are not alone.
In spite of my apprehensions at the dentist, my tooth no longer nags me with a continuous ache. I thanked the dentist.
I have important work unfinished. I am keeping my stomach controlled and my mind focussed instead of living under the tyranny of a gurgling stomach and racing mind. This week I also did some important things. Tomorrow has its own demands that require an early start. No lie -in this week. Cela vie!
Yet, I’m so very thankful for God’s grace expressed in safety while going in the parking bay, giving us patient assistants to help us put the tab l and e in my car, placing pleasant clinicians across our path. Kindness is empowering and this week I have been touched by many fingers, Most of my contacts took little time but that pause to say”hi” broke the routine and set up a chain of good-will.
Kindness often costs so little but when freely given, sweetens our lives and emboldens us to face the world. Kindness makes the world seem cozier as we realize we share our world. We are not alone.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Thirtieth Day-
This was not one of my best days but there has been so much to be grateful. Someone has said:” Don’t sweat the small stuff”. And today was made up of small stuff.
My temporary cap fell out taking with it a bit the aisle, uncertain which line to join. Unfortunately, I miscalculated for the shopper ahead of me had two trolleys and a file of coupons. I could not believe my eyes. I darted to the other counter but it was laden with groceries ad as she was out of room, tins of cans remained in her basket. The minutes ticked by into lateness. . I prayed for grace as I asked to have another till open because I did not want to appear rude. I ran out of the store clutching the tablecloth. When I was almost there, someone asked me to get him or her some eggs thinking
I spent two hours working on a presentation and just as I was about to send it to the printers, I lost it. Unfortunately, I had to see the dentist so I asked another colleague to re-type it. She gave me the good news just before the dentist opened my mouth. She had found it! The dentist was also able to repair my tooth ready for capping.
Rushing back to the office, my email did not work. Several attempts to get the footnote with acknowledgements on one page failed but eventually, I got all 44 copies and went to the meeting in the middle of the tiebreaker. Then heard the news. Presentation due next time. All small stuff that frustrate and irritate.
The high spots: the incredible work the dentist did, a frank discussion with my brother and a spirit of thankfulness that there could have been more difficult irritations. Instead of small stuff, there could have been big stuff like a child being hurt, a father losing his job. Even with irritations, gratitude and joy made the day worth-living
My temporary cap fell out taking with it a bit the aisle, uncertain which line to join. Unfortunately, I miscalculated for the shopper ahead of me had two trolleys and a file of coupons. I could not believe my eyes. I darted to the other counter but it was laden with groceries ad as she was out of room, tins of cans remained in her basket. The minutes ticked by into lateness. . I prayed for grace as I asked to have another till open because I did not want to appear rude. I ran out of the store clutching the tablecloth. When I was almost there, someone asked me to get him or her some eggs thinking
I spent two hours working on a presentation and just as I was about to send it to the printers, I lost it. Unfortunately, I had to see the dentist so I asked another colleague to re-type it. She gave me the good news just before the dentist opened my mouth. She had found it! The dentist was also able to repair my tooth ready for capping.
Rushing back to the office, my email did not work. Several attempts to get the footnote with acknowledgements on one page failed but eventually, I got all 44 copies and went to the meeting in the middle of the tiebreaker. Then heard the news. Presentation due next time. All small stuff that frustrate and irritate.
The high spots: the incredible work the dentist did, a frank discussion with my brother and a spirit of thankfulness that there could have been more difficult irritations. Instead of small stuff, there could have been big stuff like a child being hurt, a father losing his job. Even with irritations, gratitude and joy made the day worth-living
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Twenty Ninth Day-Expect the Best
I received another tribute this morning. No, not a floral arrangement that startles us with its artistry while our minds work overtime to capture the picture. We know that it will fade.and droop so we take photos to retain the memory. Floral tributes are impressive but this was just “Thank you” and it was said with such gentle genuineness that my throat tightened with emotion. It was so unexpected. In fact I expected resistance and hard feelings. What I got was the most priceless, enduring gift of all: understanding and appreciation.
It is not often that folk thank you when you disagree with their views of themselves. Confrontation takes a toll on both parties and love sometimes is not enough to ease the hurt and sense of betrayal arising from truth telling. The threat of exposure of my real self spurs me to run for cover. Paradoxically, I try to live such an authentic life that a false self has no space but self-disclosure is so much more liberating than being exposed.
Despite this, someone was brave enough to rise above their pain and say” Thank you.” I was stunned. My reply: "You’re welcome” was not automatic as it took me awhile to regain my speech. My mind was much faster and I felt slightly ashamed at how often I resign myself to expecting a negative outcome. Human beings have a limitless capacity to surprise. They cannot be pigeonholed or put in a box. After all, they are made in God’s image and likeness.
Sure, expecting the worse ensures that I have a Plan B and in some instances when the safety of others are involved, it is prudent to plan for the most adverse event. However, most of the time, this behavior is an act of self-protection and is underlined by idolatry. Am I not saying that I can look after myself? Am I not implying that I need to protect myself from folks like me? Once again, Jesus’ tolerance of Judas although he knew that he would betray Him teaches me another way. Jesus was open with the mean-spirited Judas but even in his vulnerability, he entrusted His life’s work to a self-serving band of men. They did change, of course.
But in the meantime, the Prince of Heaven accepted their failures and envisioned their future. We can do no less. His grace is sufficient if we trust too much.
It is not often that folk thank you when you disagree with their views of themselves. Confrontation takes a toll on both parties and love sometimes is not enough to ease the hurt and sense of betrayal arising from truth telling. The threat of exposure of my real self spurs me to run for cover. Paradoxically, I try to live such an authentic life that a false self has no space but self-disclosure is so much more liberating than being exposed.
Despite this, someone was brave enough to rise above their pain and say” Thank you.” I was stunned. My reply: "You’re welcome” was not automatic as it took me awhile to regain my speech. My mind was much faster and I felt slightly ashamed at how often I resign myself to expecting a negative outcome. Human beings have a limitless capacity to surprise. They cannot be pigeonholed or put in a box. After all, they are made in God’s image and likeness.
Sure, expecting the worse ensures that I have a Plan B and in some instances when the safety of others are involved, it is prudent to plan for the most adverse event. However, most of the time, this behavior is an act of self-protection and is underlined by idolatry. Am I not saying that I can look after myself? Am I not implying that I need to protect myself from folks like me? Once again, Jesus’ tolerance of Judas although he knew that he would betray Him teaches me another way. Jesus was open with the mean-spirited Judas but even in his vulnerability, he entrusted His life’s work to a self-serving band of men. They did change, of course.
But in the meantime, the Prince of Heaven accepted their failures and envisioned their future. We can do no less. His grace is sufficient if we trust too much.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Twenty Eighth Day- More than Routine
The summer weather of the weekend left today as spring fell asleep after clothing the landscape in grey. The cold is everywhere and it is hard to feel warm.
Sometimes we have perfect weather for sailing and then without warning we are in stormy seas but it is the same ocean fuelled by the same currents, washed by the same waters. Calm and storm are inevitable. And any seaworthy craft prepare for both.
It is so easy to lose my intention and return to old patterns excused by busyness or stormy waters.
Pre-occupied as I am with family, I realized that days have past without real intimacy. Prayer and Bible reading can become automatic activities. Chores to complete before I can read the book or watch the show. I know that I can feel God’s presence doing neither but when His presence is manifest, hours pass quickly doing either one. Then the Word becomes alive and quickens my spirit. Only the Living Word can be the mirror of my heart but only the Living Word can convict as well as cleanse. So I try again to practice His presence and I’m so grateful that He waits for me
Sometimes we have perfect weather for sailing and then without warning we are in stormy seas but it is the same ocean fuelled by the same currents, washed by the same waters. Calm and storm are inevitable. And any seaworthy craft prepare for both.
It is so easy to lose my intention and return to old patterns excused by busyness or stormy waters.
Pre-occupied as I am with family, I realized that days have past without real intimacy. Prayer and Bible reading can become automatic activities. Chores to complete before I can read the book or watch the show. I know that I can feel God’s presence doing neither but when His presence is manifest, hours pass quickly doing either one. Then the Word becomes alive and quickens my spirit. Only the Living Word can be the mirror of my heart but only the Living Word can convict as well as cleanse. So I try again to practice His presence and I’m so grateful that He waits for me
Monday, April 11, 2011
Twenty Seventh Day-Significance
Assyria knew how to implement “the scorched earth policy as he picked off Jerusalem’s neighbors one at a time. Why did God give some messages to Isaiah the prophet and not the priest? By the time Isaiah’s prediction came through, the fate of the people was sealed but so was also the doom of the Assyrians. I can imagine how people laughed at Isaiah, the mouthpiece of God who was ignored and criticized. My significance does not rely on the words I speak but on whom I speak for.
I was meditating on this in the doctor’s office, when a lady who attended so. She thanked me .as she explained how much she’d learnt during my Her comments startled as well as cheered me. Memories of other encounters with grateful students quickened my heart and lightened the anxieties of my mind.
Her story gave me a glimpse of immortality for when acts of kindness are lodged in people’s hearts, I have a living memorial. The need to be significant, to actualize our deepest selves is part of being human. One day, I got a glimpse of what Christ 's death meant for me as an individual, He did not just die for sinners. He died for me as an individual. I was significant enough.
Whatever I do or be can make me pleased or frustrated but my true significance lies in how I relate to God.
When I help God’s children to feel valued and loved, when they learn new skills; I do God’s work. When someone, who was crushed by life, finds new meaning and hope, I co-create with God a better future for them. Work then becomes a sacrament. And everyone changed by the process is significant.
I was meditating on this in the doctor’s office, when a lady who attended so. She thanked me .as she explained how much she’d learnt during my Her comments startled as well as cheered me. Memories of other encounters with grateful students quickened my heart and lightened the anxieties of my mind.
Her story gave me a glimpse of immortality for when acts of kindness are lodged in people’s hearts, I have a living memorial. The need to be significant, to actualize our deepest selves is part of being human. One day, I got a glimpse of what Christ 's death meant for me as an individual, He did not just die for sinners. He died for me as an individual. I was significant enough.
Whatever I do or be can make me pleased or frustrated but my true significance lies in how I relate to God.
When I help God’s children to feel valued and loved, when they learn new skills; I do God’s work. When someone, who was crushed by life, finds new meaning and hope, I co-create with God a better future for them. Work then becomes a sacrament. And everyone changed by the process is significant.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Twenty Sixth Day- Discovering Success
Twenty-five years ago, as soon as I returned home from anywhere, I touched play back to retrieve my telephone messages. Now, I can’t leave home without a phone. I also require Internet access to keep in touch so I was frustrated yesterday when a loose connection made the web unavailable. Twenty first century is punctuated by frustrations that would have left my grandmother speechless in the context of her life. A mother of seventeen children, who only saw nine to adulthood, she was stressed when it rained on lines of laundry, when the coals were too damp to cook or she ran out of kerosene for her lamp. So when I fret over a broken nail or inadequate web access, I need to remind myself to avoid stressing over trivia. Nevertheless, I often find myself swept along by the modern tendency to become anxious about the non-essentials In contrast, as one gets older, even legitimate concerns like work, reputation, status are only important through the lens of our end times. What is really important when work is over, when I may not even know who I am? Certainly, It won’t be how I look or what people think. I hope it will about who loves me.
Being with my mom is reading a testament to love and if the closing years of my life could be spent as cherished, then my life would be a resounding success. Success to me is what you have left that cannot be taken away by the ravages of time, place or people. So, I want to work hard to avoid the small stuff that saps my energy, robs me of joy and distract from my purpose.
Authenticity always comes at a price but Jesus gave himself freely to Simon as well as to Judas. At a time, when it is so easy to be superficial, I can only learn to be authentic by trial and error. Sometimes, I think it is more by error than anything else. Despite this, it is a start, the journey has begun and I am so very thankful to God for that.
Being with my mom is reading a testament to love and if the closing years of my life could be spent as cherished, then my life would be a resounding success. Success to me is what you have left that cannot be taken away by the ravages of time, place or people. So, I want to work hard to avoid the small stuff that saps my energy, robs me of joy and distract from my purpose.
Authenticity always comes at a price but Jesus gave himself freely to Simon as well as to Judas. At a time, when it is so easy to be superficial, I can only learn to be authentic by trial and error. Sometimes, I think it is more by error than anything else. Despite this, it is a start, the journey has begun and I am so very thankful to God for that.
Twenty-five years ago, as soon as I returned home from anywhere, I touched play back to retrieve my telephone messages. Now, I can’t leave home without a phone. I also require Internet access to keep in touch so I was frustrated yesterday when a loose connection made the web unavailable. Twenty first century is punctuated by frustrations that would have left my grandmother speechless in the context of her life. A mother of seventeen children, who only saw nine to adulthood, she was stressed when it rained on lines of laundry, when the coals were too damp to cook or she ran out of kerosene for her lamp. So when I fret over a broken nail or inadequate web access, I need to remind myself to avoid stressing over trivia. Nevertheless, I often find myself swept along by the modern tendency to become anxious about the non-essentials In contrast, as one gets older, even legitimate concerns like work, reputation, status are only important through the lens of our end times. What is really important when work is over, when I may not even know who I am? Certainly, It won’t be how I look or what people think. I hope it will about who loves me.
Being with my mom is reading a testament to love and if the closing years of my life could be spent as cherished, then my life would be a resounding success. Success to me is what you have left that cannot be taken away by the ravages of time, place or people. So, I want to work hard to avoid the small stuff that saps my energy, robs me of joy and distract from my purpose.
Authenticity always comes at a price but Jesus gave himself freely to Simon as well as to Judas. At a time, when it is so easy to be superficial, I can only learn to be authentic by trial and error. Sometimes, I think it is more by error than anything else. Despite this, it is a start, the journey has begun and I am so very thankful to God for that.
Being with my mom is reading a testament to love and if the closing years of my life could be spent as cherished, then my life would be a resounding success. Success to me is what you have left that cannot be taken away by the ravages of time, place or people. So, I want to work hard to avoid the small stuff that saps my energy, robs me of joy and distract from my purpose.
Authenticity always comes at a price but Jesus gave himself freely to Simon as well as to Judas. At a time, when it is so easy to be superficial, I can only learn to be authentic by trial and error. Sometimes, I think it is more by error than anything else. Despite this, it is a start, the journey has begun and I am so very thankful to God for that.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Twenty FourthDay
My mother is humming to herself while two of my sisters watch and comment on a cooking show, My brother who had driven from West Virginia to Illinois in seven hours was on his laptop trying to complete a day’s work. I tried to find a three-point socket for mine, as my battery was dead. It was an ordinary scene but precious to us because we live so far apart.
Our journey to Illinois was uneventful but the unexpected tracts of purple covered fields made us gasp. My brother broke into song: God bless America and we continued to sing through mile after mile of prairie-land, my voice choking with emotion. Although, not an American, the breath-taking beauty of the landscape, fringed with pine and purple and the mounds of sun kissed hills stirred a love of country. We talked about the vastness and splendor of the land, making favorable comparisons to the cities and highways in Europe
When we arrived home, my youngest brother took us to a lake where we walked for an hour unwilling to end such a beautiful day. It was a brief respite from our concerns because the tranquil scenery soothed our spirits.
Family life is strewn with simple activities and difficult decisions. These are often the times of greatest nurturance as people show their love and care. When Jesus asked if folk were willing to leave their family to follow Him, he was asserting the importance of family life. We only sacrifice what is valuable.
My family has strong personalities, which make for interesting living. As a little girl I fantasized about belonging to a different family. Mystery books whose heroines were robbed of their birthright fed my princess fantasies. I outgrew daydreaming and am really comfortable with my Christian heritage. Nevertheless, sometimes, like tonight, I am in awe of my family who continues to teach me about unconditional love and faith.
Our journey to Illinois was uneventful but the unexpected tracts of purple covered fields made us gasp. My brother broke into song: God bless America and we continued to sing through mile after mile of prairie-land, my voice choking with emotion. Although, not an American, the breath-taking beauty of the landscape, fringed with pine and purple and the mounds of sun kissed hills stirred a love of country. We talked about the vastness and splendor of the land, making favorable comparisons to the cities and highways in Europe
When we arrived home, my youngest brother took us to a lake where we walked for an hour unwilling to end such a beautiful day. It was a brief respite from our concerns because the tranquil scenery soothed our spirits.
Family life is strewn with simple activities and difficult decisions. These are often the times of greatest nurturance as people show their love and care. When Jesus asked if folk were willing to leave their family to follow Him, he was asserting the importance of family life. We only sacrifice what is valuable.
My family has strong personalities, which make for interesting living. As a little girl I fantasized about belonging to a different family. Mystery books whose heroines were robbed of their birthright fed my princess fantasies. I outgrew daydreaming and am really comfortable with my Christian heritage. Nevertheless, sometimes, like tonight, I am in awe of my family who continues to teach me about unconditional love and faith.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Twenty Third Day-Renaming Zebulun
This week has been temperamental so far: sunshine alternating with angry storms, and pouring rain. However, today it seems that spring has arrived with warmth and good cheer. It was a day when the spirit sings and difficult things feel less burdensome.
My mood was in tune with the day as I was uplifted this morning with a simple sentence. Although I have read the Bible so often, I am constantly surprised at how onion-like it is. There is always another and another layer of meaning. I was completely off guard this morning as I read Is 9: 1 Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress. In the past he humbled the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the future will honor Galilee….”
Even when we make we make wrong choices and endure the consequences of those decisions; there is still hope. Zebulun and Naphtali were brutally crushed by Assyria but Jesus will be called the Man of Galilee, the new name for their old tribal lands.
One of the blessings of old age, is that there are recurring cycles in my life so whether I pay attention or not, I can’t help but notice a pattern eventually. Recalling times of desolation past is reassuring, as I know that as the cycle evolves, so time will change,
The loneliness I felt on my first day of nursing school with all my family a continent away helped me adjust to the loss of friends decades later, The anxiety of driving my first car helped me cope with the stress of driving on the right side of the road.
Stressors punctuate my life and I look for the pattern to emerge to form a richer experience. But even when life’s experiences still leave me ill prepared to cope, Jesus, the Galilean, walks through my devastated lands and transforms with His presence.
My mood was in tune with the day as I was uplifted this morning with a simple sentence. Although I have read the Bible so often, I am constantly surprised at how onion-like it is. There is always another and another layer of meaning. I was completely off guard this morning as I read Is 9: 1 Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress. In the past he humbled the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the future will honor Galilee….”
Even when we make we make wrong choices and endure the consequences of those decisions; there is still hope. Zebulun and Naphtali were brutally crushed by Assyria but Jesus will be called the Man of Galilee, the new name for their old tribal lands.
One of the blessings of old age, is that there are recurring cycles in my life so whether I pay attention or not, I can’t help but notice a pattern eventually. Recalling times of desolation past is reassuring, as I know that as the cycle evolves, so time will change,
The loneliness I felt on my first day of nursing school with all my family a continent away helped me adjust to the loss of friends decades later, The anxiety of driving my first car helped me cope with the stress of driving on the right side of the road.
Stressors punctuate my life and I look for the pattern to emerge to form a richer experience. But even when life’s experiences still leave me ill prepared to cope, Jesus, the Galilean, walks through my devastated lands and transforms with His presence.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Twenty two Days
Leaving the slip road to join the I-64 was a perilous journey as I was almost blinded. Strangely, the sun looked like a giant egg yolk, edged with vivid crimson... a glowing, dazzling circle in an aerial sea of blue. It was 7.30PM and in the mountain landscape, the sun seemed low enough to be in touching distance.
During the twenty minutes of my journey, the sun splashed more and more red across her face but retained her blazing brilliance. Wearing sunshades, sinking in my seat, looking sideways were all-useless at avoiding the glare. Keeping myself safe on a fast road when I could not look ahead was of greater priority. The sun was setting but I couldn’t gaze in awe.
When young, I woke up before daybreak, walked a mile to the ocean to watch the sun rise. This afternoon I felt threatened, not uplifted by its splendor. But the magnificent sun must stay in its orbit; unlike people who have choices.
I thought of folks whose brilliance shine so brightly that people like me wilt in their glare. Yet there are others equally luminous, whose glow light the way for me to go further or be better. I am blessed to have known such people. They have made me mindful of my own relations and more determined to be a sun that lights.
Is 6:13 refers to a terebinth that is similar to the oak but when cut produces a fragrant smell. When I am cut by the painful issues of life or even when God himself needs to cut away my habits or attitudes, I hope I can ooze fragrance.
Another day enriched by two vivid images: The blinding sun and the fragrant Terebinth. Both teach me but the Terebinth provides a template for gracious living.
During the twenty minutes of my journey, the sun splashed more and more red across her face but retained her blazing brilliance. Wearing sunshades, sinking in my seat, looking sideways were all-useless at avoiding the glare. Keeping myself safe on a fast road when I could not look ahead was of greater priority. The sun was setting but I couldn’t gaze in awe.
When young, I woke up before daybreak, walked a mile to the ocean to watch the sun rise. This afternoon I felt threatened, not uplifted by its splendor. But the magnificent sun must stay in its orbit; unlike people who have choices.
I thought of folks whose brilliance shine so brightly that people like me wilt in their glare. Yet there are others equally luminous, whose glow light the way for me to go further or be better. I am blessed to have known such people. They have made me mindful of my own relations and more determined to be a sun that lights.
Is 6:13 refers to a terebinth that is similar to the oak but when cut produces a fragrant smell. When I am cut by the painful issues of life or even when God himself needs to cut away my habits or attitudes, I hope I can ooze fragrance.
Another day enriched by two vivid images: The blinding sun and the fragrant Terebinth. Both teach me but the Terebinth provides a template for gracious living.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Twenty one days
I’m more than half–way on my journey. This lover’s walk with God but today routine escaped me. My alarm worked faultlessly. I have two alarm clocks but was too alarmed by their undependability to use them as wake up calls. While taking iphone 101, I briefly tried out its alarm. After the first ring, it not only replaced the clocks but also became my favorite iphone feature.
So I woke up but did not read nor exercise today. The morning just flew while I stayed in bed and thought. This is a poor start to any day especially at a time when I ‘m struggling with relationship, I felt disappointed but before I could get established on a guilt trip, I was startled by a thought: Lovers don’t normally read letters before going to work. I giggled and gave myself a pass. At work His presence remained during some difficult conversations. His silence supported me as I felt myself responding impatiently to a phone call. Does she not know that I’m at work? Guilty for a second, I made a quick resolve to do better. This, too, is part of knowing how to relate to Him.
God did clearly speak to me to concentrate on a relationship with Him and at first; I conceptualized it as a growing romance. Now, half way through, it seems more about mopping the floors than candlelight dinners. It is knowing that despite my failures, frustrations and failings, God is still there. It occurred to me that God could never be disappointed in me, however close we become because I was always known by Him. It is I who has not known him. It is I who expected condemnation.
Instead, there is a sense of liberation. I’m not only forgiven but I’m loved.
MY face may wear o mask of care and thought but in my heart is a rising
Flood of excitement. Practicing God’s presence has some unique outcomes.
So I woke up but did not read nor exercise today. The morning just flew while I stayed in bed and thought. This is a poor start to any day especially at a time when I ‘m struggling with relationship, I felt disappointed but before I could get established on a guilt trip, I was startled by a thought: Lovers don’t normally read letters before going to work. I giggled and gave myself a pass. At work His presence remained during some difficult conversations. His silence supported me as I felt myself responding impatiently to a phone call. Does she not know that I’m at work? Guilty for a second, I made a quick resolve to do better. This, too, is part of knowing how to relate to Him.
God did clearly speak to me to concentrate on a relationship with Him and at first; I conceptualized it as a growing romance. Now, half way through, it seems more about mopping the floors than candlelight dinners. It is knowing that despite my failures, frustrations and failings, God is still there. It occurred to me that God could never be disappointed in me, however close we become because I was always known by Him. It is I who has not known him. It is I who expected condemnation.
Instead, there is a sense of liberation. I’m not only forgiven but I’m loved.
MY face may wear o mask of care and thought but in my heart is a rising
Flood of excitement. Practicing God’s presence has some unique outcomes.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Storms and Smiles
The leaves were the only discernible objects among the debris that swirled everywhere. Everything that was not nailed down took flight. I longed to be home,
It was girls’ night tonight. Now, I am not a girl and my friends have husbands and children. They are not girls either but with their enthusiasm, creativity and boundless energy, the use of girls is not a misnomer. These friends are God’s gift to me but more about them at another time. It is enough to say that I wanted to meet with them tonight after a difficult day at work. Their listening hearts and caring hearts uplift and support me.
I reached my car through the dust as the first drops of rain smacked earth. Carefully reversing out of parking, I started for home. The afternoon lost its light as dark clouds held the rain. My headlights and windscreen wipers were ineffective against the sudden blackness thickened by the heavy rain. I drove one block and stopped by a mailbox. Ten minutes later, I tentatively started my journey home hoping that the storm had exhausted itself too much for a repeat performance. The weather improved the closer I got to home. If it were not for the soggy newspapers and limp, wet letters, I would have thought that Teays Valley had escaped the downpour.
My friends arrived and over tea, we reviewed the outline of a new book as we talked about our children and our work. We re-read some She speaks blogs and I particularly enjoyed one by Laura Bogess. Her pictures augmented her story so well that I, the camera phobic felt motivated to start clicking. This is one of the blessings of being with young people. They stretch your horizons. Indeed, you may even discover new countries so I learn from young friends who have such generosity of spirit. They patiently satisfy my endless curiosity, as I know so little.
Probably, my gift to them is the ability to take. In a world that is competitive, where individualism flourishes, to graciously accept what others give so generously is an act of communion. God, who through team work, undertook the creation is pleased as this too is in memory of Him.
It was girls’ night tonight. Now, I am not a girl and my friends have husbands and children. They are not girls either but with their enthusiasm, creativity and boundless energy, the use of girls is not a misnomer. These friends are God’s gift to me but more about them at another time. It is enough to say that I wanted to meet with them tonight after a difficult day at work. Their listening hearts and caring hearts uplift and support me.
I reached my car through the dust as the first drops of rain smacked earth. Carefully reversing out of parking, I started for home. The afternoon lost its light as dark clouds held the rain. My headlights and windscreen wipers were ineffective against the sudden blackness thickened by the heavy rain. I drove one block and stopped by a mailbox. Ten minutes later, I tentatively started my journey home hoping that the storm had exhausted itself too much for a repeat performance. The weather improved the closer I got to home. If it were not for the soggy newspapers and limp, wet letters, I would have thought that Teays Valley had escaped the downpour.
My friends arrived and over tea, we reviewed the outline of a new book as we talked about our children and our work. We re-read some She speaks blogs and I particularly enjoyed one by Laura Bogess. Her pictures augmented her story so well that I, the camera phobic felt motivated to start clicking. This is one of the blessings of being with young people. They stretch your horizons. Indeed, you may even discover new countries so I learn from young friends who have such generosity of spirit. They patiently satisfy my endless curiosity, as I know so little.
Probably, my gift to them is the ability to take. In a world that is competitive, where individualism flourishes, to graciously accept what others give so generously is an act of communion. God, who through team work, undertook the creation is pleased as this too is in memory of Him.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
She Speaks Conference Entry
The choir exultantly sang about God controlling the storm. It was a stirring hymn of faith and praise for their pastor was in the pulpit. In the 21st century, miracles do happen in answer to prayers.
Nine months ago, he was rushed from this church to the local hospital then airlifted to a regional center where they tried to control the bleeding in his brain. Five weeks later he was home under sentence of death. His condition was rare and the location of the bleed was considered inaccessible. However, if untreated, he will bleed again with disastrous results.
As the pastor directed us to 2 Sam .24:10-18 and asked us to “Come with me to the threshing Floor” I, his sister, reflected on an incredible journey as we raced across states to find an expert who was able to perform surgery. I cannot imagine what it was like for him not knowing if he would wake up, whether he had had his last romp with his grandchildren or cuddled his wife for a final time. Living with death and wondering how it would come. Would he be alone or in company? I could only watch and give him books to feed the soul along the journey.
At 5.30AM on Febuary1st we were the first to enter the surgery waiting room. It was a day made bearable by the many kindnesses of strangers who wished us well. His wife, my oldest brother, his children and I prayed and said goodbyes before 8AM after a final consult with the surgeon. I committed him to God and space age technology.
We were so conscious of the prayers of God ‘s people around the world particularly his congregation who was fasting all day until his surgery was over. They waited at the church to hear news. Unfortunately, there was an agonizing delay as we knew it was not going as planned. There were six instead of one blood vessel involved and the doctor did hesitate to continue but God used this lithe Korean lady as his instrument. She persevered, making medical history, as the repair was completed. We were the last family to leave that waiting room. At 11.30PM, we finally saw him. He recognized us, felt his toes, screamed that he was in pain-great signs of main functions. God had done marvelous things.
So today, two short months later, the choir sang passionately. The church rejoiced in answered prayer. I wept as he preached his first sermon without cognitive disability.
I have many stories for the She Speaks Conference of Proverbs 31 but with a grateful heart today, this is the breaking news: RUPTURED BRAIN, NEW MIRACLE, PREACHING AGAIN.
I hope that these six words would give me a scholarship to attend the She Speaks Conference sponsored by Proverbs 31 ministry. I already have books by some of the authors associated with the ministry. Please check this website to see what's on offer at http://shespeaksconference.com/
Nine months ago, he was rushed from this church to the local hospital then airlifted to a regional center where they tried to control the bleeding in his brain. Five weeks later he was home under sentence of death. His condition was rare and the location of the bleed was considered inaccessible. However, if untreated, he will bleed again with disastrous results.
As the pastor directed us to 2 Sam .24:10-18 and asked us to “Come with me to the threshing Floor” I, his sister, reflected on an incredible journey as we raced across states to find an expert who was able to perform surgery. I cannot imagine what it was like for him not knowing if he would wake up, whether he had had his last romp with his grandchildren or cuddled his wife for a final time. Living with death and wondering how it would come. Would he be alone or in company? I could only watch and give him books to feed the soul along the journey.
At 5.30AM on Febuary1st we were the first to enter the surgery waiting room. It was a day made bearable by the many kindnesses of strangers who wished us well. His wife, my oldest brother, his children and I prayed and said goodbyes before 8AM after a final consult with the surgeon. I committed him to God and space age technology.
We were so conscious of the prayers of God ‘s people around the world particularly his congregation who was fasting all day until his surgery was over. They waited at the church to hear news. Unfortunately, there was an agonizing delay as we knew it was not going as planned. There were six instead of one blood vessel involved and the doctor did hesitate to continue but God used this lithe Korean lady as his instrument. She persevered, making medical history, as the repair was completed. We were the last family to leave that waiting room. At 11.30PM, we finally saw him. He recognized us, felt his toes, screamed that he was in pain-great signs of main functions. God had done marvelous things.
So today, two short months later, the choir sang passionately. The church rejoiced in answered prayer. I wept as he preached his first sermon without cognitive disability.
I have many stories for the She Speaks Conference of Proverbs 31 but with a grateful heart today, this is the breaking news: RUPTURED BRAIN, NEW MIRACLE, PREACHING AGAIN.
I hope that these six words would give me a scholarship to attend the She Speaks Conference sponsored by Proverbs 31 ministry. I already have books by some of the authors associated with the ministry. Please check this website to see what's on offer at http://shespeaksconference.com/
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Nineteenth Day
My baby brother is sick. He is my brother but he is also my baby. Have I not rocked him to sleep, taken him for his shots, changed his bottom, heard his stories. After all, I even gave him his name. But now, he is sick. He has a mental disorder and my compassionate, charming caring and comforting brother is sick.
My heart is so heavy it can hardly beat. I try to compartmentalize the anxiety but my mind is open planned. The dividers I’d erected have crashed under the weight of the pain I feel. He is the child I do not have and I love him as I do my many siblings
Nevertheless, he elicits feelings of protection that makes me long to make his world safe, to flood his world with trust and hope. He is a great human being: intelligent, unselfish and supportive. He strives even when ill to think of others and he longs for an independent life. But he is ill and there are few resources to help someone who has so many skills. Of course tax dollars buy resources and powerful lobbyists set priorities. Babies are not the only group who need a voice, who cannot speak for them. Sometimes when we are sick, we cannot help ourselves. Well-intentioned laws designed to preserve privacy and prevent abuse or exploitation has an unintended consequence. It stops loved ones from securing help and being a voice for those in need of care.
I think of the man who was let down through the roof by his friends to be healed by Jesus. Today, it seems that in similar circumstances, one would be charged with kidnapping. Yet the average family does care and cares passionately for those they love.
Today, I break my promise. I ask God to help my brother. Although, during this Lenten time, I just wanted to be with God and feel His heart, I could not resist asking Him for this one thing…my brother’s well being . It just shows how much I need Him but I know that through my concerns at this time, a loving God is be with me.
My heart is so heavy it can hardly beat. I try to compartmentalize the anxiety but my mind is open planned. The dividers I’d erected have crashed under the weight of the pain I feel. He is the child I do not have and I love him as I do my many siblings
Nevertheless, he elicits feelings of protection that makes me long to make his world safe, to flood his world with trust and hope. He is a great human being: intelligent, unselfish and supportive. He strives even when ill to think of others and he longs for an independent life. But he is ill and there are few resources to help someone who has so many skills. Of course tax dollars buy resources and powerful lobbyists set priorities. Babies are not the only group who need a voice, who cannot speak for them. Sometimes when we are sick, we cannot help ourselves. Well-intentioned laws designed to preserve privacy and prevent abuse or exploitation has an unintended consequence. It stops loved ones from securing help and being a voice for those in need of care.
I think of the man who was let down through the roof by his friends to be healed by Jesus. Today, it seems that in similar circumstances, one would be charged with kidnapping. Yet the average family does care and cares passionately for those they love.
Today, I break my promise. I ask God to help my brother. Although, during this Lenten time, I just wanted to be with God and feel His heart, I could not resist asking Him for this one thing…my brother’s well being . It just shows how much I need Him but I know that through my concerns at this time, a loving God is be with me.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Eighteenth Day
Another weekend. This week has simply flown and now we are in the month of April and its showers. I’m glad that I had forgotten that it was April fool’s day because I started the morning with serving porridge with heaping teaspoons of salt to replace the sugar I had assumed was in the sugar bowl. Not funny for my brother. A colleague at work told her husband that someone had cleaned out his or her savings. He survived without a heart attack. Pranks could be fun. Someone said that when we want to make God laugh, we make plans. Sometimes, life does seem to play me tricks as it leads me into unexpected places. The traits that irritate us in my family re-surface in the man of our dreams. I go to great lengths to avoid confrontation only to find the same person as my boss in the next job.
God reminds me again and again that I know the plans I have for you. That is a good note on which to start my weekend. I wish I could play: I wonder what... What is God's plan for the many projects of my life? Knowing would save me so many false starts, such wasted energy. It might also save me money but I would not have learnt to trust and without faith, it is impossible to please God.
God reminds me again and again that I know the plans I have for you. That is a good note on which to start my weekend. I wish I could play: I wonder what... What is God's plan for the many projects of my life? Knowing would save me so many false starts, such wasted energy. It might also save me money but I would not have learnt to trust and without faith, it is impossible to please God.
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