We were blessed to grow up near my grandparents. We could stand on the porch and talk to them on their porch if we spoke loudly. They were on the opposite side of the road and up a few hundred yards from us. We made a path through the field on our side of the road so we could get to them with limited asphalt time. Filled with red top clover, the sweet fragrance surrounding us as we walked, any flower scent takes me back to those childhood summers.
Wash days were one of our favorites, and if we were at their house, bonus. Gran'ma had a wringer washing machine. Wooden crates turned on end held washtubs set on top. The larger ones had rinse water, the smaller some Argo starch stirred in. The drain from the washing machine was a garden hose stretched across the yard to the fig bush. All of this was on the front porch where we'd play until the washing finished.
Once the laundry was hung on the line to dry, the machine unplugged and rolled back to its spot, Gran'ma would open up a nearby wooden cabinet. Excitement took over as she passed out empty dishwashing liquid bottles, usually Ivory or Joy. Our mission, should we choose to accept it, was to clear out the rinse water using those bottles. Dipping into the tub and watching the bubbles rise as the water rushed in, we grinned. Then, the gauntlet was thrown by one of us putting the top on and squirting another. Water fight! All was fair in fun and, there's no crying in squirt battles! Peals of laughter and a bit of surprised squealing filled the yard as we raced around in play.
When I think of that time today, I see the white bottle with its blue and white label. The Ivory bottle always reminded me of a bright summer sky with clouds white as snow. Living near the Rockies now, we get snow. The clean, pristine shine reminds me of several things, including those summer fun days of play. The passage of Isaiah 1:18 comes to mind, "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow…" I feel clean, renewed.
More often, I recall the yellow one with the green and red label, Joy. It reminds me of the sunshine, of the laughter. In vivid clarity, I replay summer days running in abandon with my siblings, unfettered delight bubbling out of us, filling us with such bliss. Joy was so carefree and spontaneous when we were kids. Now we get bogged down in the busyness of being an adult, placing gladness in a hidden compartment where it only comes out when the circumstances are right. We feel weighted with responsibility and tired. When I start feeling this way, I take a moment and remember those summers of my youth. I pray and find the joy of the Lord is my strength, just as told in Nehemiah. Otherwise, I'm too spent to do anything.
Joy is Jesus Others Yourself. It is a quiet evening with praise music in the background while my pencils and crayons play with my Bible study understanding. It is that feeling of warmth throughout my body, waiting to bubble over in luxury or to settle peacefully around me for a good night's sleep. It is serving the Lord at church, the smiles of the children, the worship songs, the message, the 'amen' at the end of prayer.
It is not circumstantial. It is not fleeting. It is not spontaneous. It is not happiness. It is in a heart filled with love for the Lord and all His people, eager to be about His business to advance His kingdom. Joy is that bright yellow bottle filled with the living water of Christ to be showered on others while reveling in some of it myself. Let's play!
Monday, April 30, 2018
Friday, April 20, 2018
The Pearl
Originally written as a submission on FaithWriters.com for the weekly challenge topic 'rich,' it is real. It took a while to move through the phases of grief, but God is faithful and propelled me forward in His timing. You won't find much humor in this one. You will find a heart bare with emotion. I pray you find your hope in Jesus as you read about this widow who realizes a grit of irritation produces a pearl in nature. She compares this to her loss and how she is being refined during this season of life.
I gaze longingly at a distant horizon, one lost in the haze of memory. I do not notice the coppery topaz sky over mountains, the soft gray and peach of polished jasper. The vivid ruby and carat rich golden glow of sunset captures me in a perfect setting. I remember the ring of promise.
Morphing to a crisp fall day, I recall the emerald grass near the rushing water of a stream as I commit myself to a life with the man of my dreams. Our past washes away like the garnet red maple leaf twisting in the current. Our now, glowing amber with the warmth of true love, we revel in the newness. Our future, an opal mist of possibility, fills us with barely contained excitement. Once separate dreams join in a kaleidoscope of jewels, crowning us for growing old together. He calls me beautiful, his princess. I tumble deeper into the treasure of his eyes, the circle of his arms.
A subtle shift of shadows, I find a world of onyx. The light disappears, lost in the corners of a heart broken with loss, cracked with uncertainty. Despair envelopes me in a tarnished cloak, heavy with grief. I search the world around me for a glimmer of hope to cut through the pain. My chest constricts with pitted bands of loneliness.
Like a ring tucked into a jewel box, the sun slips lower. The turquoise edges of the sky flow gently into sapphire twinkling with diamonds. I look down at my wedding ring. A ghost of a smile creases my face as joy polishes the tumbling oppressive thoughts. Crystal clarity, a unique necklace of peace with a platinum locket of hope settles against my heart.
The now amethyst sky glimmers with the rising silver moon. Chuckling softly, I wrap myself in surety of a reunion. Though widowed, I am not alone. As complex as I am, my logic is simple, my faith strong. The irritants of this life, the trials, temporary and fleeting, refine us. They circle and adhere, creating jewels. They turn us into treasured servants for Christ. Gazing up, I whisper a prayer.
Lord, Thank You for the time with my husband. Thank You for filling the hole in my heart with the richness of Your love for me. I pray I honor You as I move through this stage of life. I pray this time of refinement glorifies You. When I stand before You, I pray You find me a pearl. Amen.
I gaze longingly at a distant horizon, one lost in the haze of memory. I do not notice the coppery topaz sky over mountains, the soft gray and peach of polished jasper. The vivid ruby and carat rich golden glow of sunset captures me in a perfect setting. I remember the ring of promise.
Morphing to a crisp fall day, I recall the emerald grass near the rushing water of a stream as I commit myself to a life with the man of my dreams. Our past washes away like the garnet red maple leaf twisting in the current. Our now, glowing amber with the warmth of true love, we revel in the newness. Our future, an opal mist of possibility, fills us with barely contained excitement. Once separate dreams join in a kaleidoscope of jewels, crowning us for growing old together. He calls me beautiful, his princess. I tumble deeper into the treasure of his eyes, the circle of his arms.
A subtle shift of shadows, I find a world of onyx. The light disappears, lost in the corners of a heart broken with loss, cracked with uncertainty. Despair envelopes me in a tarnished cloak, heavy with grief. I search the world around me for a glimmer of hope to cut through the pain. My chest constricts with pitted bands of loneliness.
Like a ring tucked into a jewel box, the sun slips lower. The turquoise edges of the sky flow gently into sapphire twinkling with diamonds. I look down at my wedding ring. A ghost of a smile creases my face as joy polishes the tumbling oppressive thoughts. Crystal clarity, a unique necklace of peace with a platinum locket of hope settles against my heart.
The now amethyst sky glimmers with the rising silver moon. Chuckling softly, I wrap myself in surety of a reunion. Though widowed, I am not alone. As complex as I am, my logic is simple, my faith strong. The irritants of this life, the trials, temporary and fleeting, refine us. They circle and adhere, creating jewels. They turn us into treasured servants for Christ. Gazing up, I whisper a prayer.
Lord, Thank You for the time with my husband. Thank You for filling the hole in my heart with the richness of Your love for me. I pray I honor You as I move through this stage of life. I pray this time of refinement glorifies You. When I stand before You, I pray You find me a pearl. Amen.
Friday, April 13, 2018
She's Back?
I know some of you have been wondering where I have been. I took some time to develop a few projects and increase readership on the Guardian Angels page in Facebook. I am just shy of my goal, but feel compelled to not wait any longer.
Exciting and wonderful things are happening. God called me to write. Life got complicated with loss - job, spouse, immediate and extended family members, pet. All of that poured out of the pen as sorrow and pain, no joy to be found, even between the lines. Yes, it was all circumstantial. Yes, I know my joy is found in Jesus and the joy of the Lord is my strength.
Every time I thought I was on the up and up, something held me back. God taught me to draw, He even moved my hand at times while my eyes were closed. God taught me what real love is - esteeming others higher than myself. He taught me compassion - your pain is my pain too. I now know, God was leading me to 'be still' while He worked. Late in 2016, early 2017, He told me, 'all you've written thus far was for you. Now it's time to write for Me.' WOW! I thought I was writing for You Lord and please forgive me for failing.
God is so great, He showed me the writing I've done, never posted, was healing me. It's not bad, just not as edifying or glorifying as it should be. God used this time to spread the balm of Gilead on my wounds, to fill my broken heart with the purest gold of His love, to clean the cobwebs from the attic of my mind, and to teach me how to walk again as His child.
Thank You Lord for Your unfailing love! Thank You Jesus for not giving up on me. Thank You Father for leading me to be the 'whosoever' and guiding me to trust You, even when I cannot see. Amen!
Exciting and wonderful things are happening. God called me to write. Life got complicated with loss - job, spouse, immediate and extended family members, pet. All of that poured out of the pen as sorrow and pain, no joy to be found, even between the lines. Yes, it was all circumstantial. Yes, I know my joy is found in Jesus and the joy of the Lord is my strength.
Every time I thought I was on the up and up, something held me back. God taught me to draw, He even moved my hand at times while my eyes were closed. God taught me what real love is - esteeming others higher than myself. He taught me compassion - your pain is my pain too. I now know, God was leading me to 'be still' while He worked. Late in 2016, early 2017, He told me, 'all you've written thus far was for you. Now it's time to write for Me.' WOW! I thought I was writing for You Lord and please forgive me for failing.
God is so great, He showed me the writing I've done, never posted, was healing me. It's not bad, just not as edifying or glorifying as it should be. God used this time to spread the balm of Gilead on my wounds, to fill my broken heart with the purest gold of His love, to clean the cobwebs from the attic of my mind, and to teach me how to walk again as His child.
Thank You Lord for Your unfailing love! Thank You Jesus for not giving up on me. Thank You Father for leading me to be the 'whosoever' and guiding me to trust You, even when I cannot see. Amen!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)