Birthdays

I've pondered all the Birthday wishes I have to catch up on from the past few months.  I don't know why I let life sidetrack me so.  At any rate, it will be done. I will catch up.  But there was one Birthday I was fixated on all week.  I worried how it would affect my lovelies in Kentucky.  It was their Dad's Birthday.  The 23rd of September. The first birthday without him.  It weight heavy on my heart for them. I knew there would probably be tears and brokenness. But I prayed for strength for them.  Near the end of this week, his birthday to be exact, I had a thought.  A very eye opening thought. . . . . .

We celebrate the day we are born.  Our "traditional" birthday.  Then, if you are a Christian and can remember the exact day, we celebrate the day we asked Jesus into our hearts.  Our "salvation" birthday.  But ~ in reality ~ as believers ~  when we close our eyes to this world and open them in glory ~ isn't that our true Birthday?  The day we die is actually the day we shed away all these old bones and nonsense and take on a new body.  We are literally a new being. A new "person". Knowing this helps to ease the pain of "death anniversaries" and prompts me to want to celebrate "Heavenly Birthdays". And if I see it this way, my Mom would be a mere 39 years old!  Thirty-nine!

It's just a thought to ponder.

It's not text book material.

It's not even written anywhere.

I just found comfort in that thought.

I eases the heartache.

"Needy"

I had an epiphany this morning.

My Boy had said to me something along the lines of: "a girl being needy".

I pondered these words as I was throwing laundry into the dryer.

I realized ~ women in general are a needy lot.

We need:
To love, be loved and feel love
To be independent but dependent
Affirmation, support and acknowledgement
Appreciation
Freedom to be ourselves, but belong to someone
To be creative
To cry, laugh and be quiet. Sometimes all at once.
Company and quiet time ~ alone.  Sometimes at the same time.
Affection
To play and be serious
To ponder all that is and all that will be.
To be emotional without judgment
To be protective and protected
To be soft and firm at the same time
To fix what we think needs fixing

Therefore, we are needy.

I'm sure the list could go on and on.
If you are a woman and think none of these things apply to you, well, I'm sorry for your loss.

I know without a doubt we needed men so we could be women.  Without them,  we aren't.
God didn't make a mistake in making Adam first.  He made Adam in His image and realized, I think, He needed an emotions roller coaster to be his help mate. No need letting him go  through life's ride all by himself.  God then needed Adam to make us. We needed Adam to exist.  There's no shame in that!  We then wrapped all our emotional mumbo jumbo around the corner post God provided us with.  Men may not understand, but that's ok. They just need to realize and know that fact ~ 'cause let's face it ~ it's a bigger picture than they can see. 

Go ahead ~ be needy (not cling-y).  Need the things that make you who you are.  Own them. Don't settle for what the world is trying to impress on you.  Look within and you'll see you already have all that and then some.  So don't get your britches in a bunch, be the woman you want to be and be thankful for those men in this world because without them, we wouldn't be.  They are our corner post, not our whipping post.  We are their equal, not their superior.
 
End of epiphany.

I'll get off my soap box now. 

Just A Piece of the Puzzle

I love to work puzzles (not crosswords so much) and as it turns out, most of my squirrely girlie's like puzzles too!  Itty Bitty could sit with puzzles all day long.  And I have to admit, I think about letting her!  It is wonderful watching her analyze, twist and turn and finally place a piece where it belongs.

Using the box lid as a guide I taught her to work the border first.  It would give her something to connect to, as it were. Then we would move inward.  The pieces would be encompassed ~ forced to find their place. Next she learned to look for like colors, shapes, patterns and connecting parts.  The similar things allowed the "picture" to start to take focus and excitement followed.  And even though it was far from done she could see progress.  And so the process continued ~ observation, trial and then success.  When all pieces were placed in the correct spot and she stood back to admire the work, there was pleasure.  Pleasure in her work, even though there was trial and error, and pleasure with the end result.  She is now able to see past the fact that it took forever to work that pattern on the tiger because it all looked very similar. Or all the pieces of the same color giving her grief.  Perhaps a piece went MIA ~ only to find she was sitting on it.  All the frustration was lost in the pride she felt with a job well done.  Looking back at the big picture was rewarding and the joy, frustration and the "I don't want to do this anymore." attitude was overshadowed by what lay in front of her. The pieces.  All together.  As they should be.

It reminds me that my life is  just pieces of a puzzle. It is just much larger and sometimes more complex.  In any given day I find myself, more often than not, looking for where I belong. How  I'm going to get the pieces of my "puzzle" to connect together and not damage or misplace any of the surrounding pieces.  Most times I try not to put too much thought in it and just let the pieces fall in place naturally.  But, alas, Easy is never the name of my puzzle. 

Fortunately my "border" is done. I am encompassed by the Almighty Hand.  I am forced to find my place.  I look for like personalities (colors), interests (patterns) and fellow believers (connecting parts).  When I find my similarities my puzzle begins to take form.  And my process continues ~ observation (reaching out), trial (bad, unpredictable days, short temper, frustration, on and on. . .) and then success ~ joyful, blissful days, making it through the rain, dealing with disappointment and coming out on the other side.

But, unlike working a board puzzle, the only thing I can look back on is the "work in progress".  I won't ever see the finished puzzle this side of Glory.  God holds that box with the picture on it for me. 

I will get it some day. I will be able to look back despite the joy, the frustrations and the "I don't want to do this anymore." attitude and be overwhelmed at what lays in front of me.  The pieces. All together.  As they were meant to be.

But, not today.  Not today.

Home is Where Our Heart Is

"In My Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you.  I go to prepare a place for you."  John 14:2 NKJV

In the past years when I was working at an electrical distributorship I had the privilege of being inside many glorious homes.  Homes one could only dream of.  Huge spacious rooms, multiple baths, and a view of the water to die for. Mansions.  At least to me.  I would often ask myself why some were more fortunate to acquire such wealth and beauty while others just lived pay check to pay check.  I would dream of living in a home with such beauty.  Oh, the entertaining, the leisure, the comfort. I could almost taste it.  But it was a dream that was economically beyond my reach.  Unrealistic. So I would put it to bed.  Daydream upon occasion, and be done with it for a while. 

Then a passage from the Bible, one we read all the time ~ one everybody knows, seemingly took on a new meaning for me one day.   A meaning that has allowed me to put away any longing for (which is really envy dressed up) my earthly mansion.  

We are told of streets of gold, crystal rivers, jewels everywhere in Heaven.  What makes us think our "mansions" are going to be anything but breath taking.  Even the smallest of those abodes would probably put the most lavish home on earth, the whole planet, to shame.  It would not be able to hold a candle to the beauty of what God has built for us.  THAT was my eye opener.  Why had I not thought of that before?  Silly me.

I kinda kept that little tidbit of self discovery tucked under my turban.  Until one day.  One day at a social function at a breath taking home with such a view, a friend expressed the same desire of having such a home.  How wonderful it was to share with her my new take on that verse.  Of how God is going to give us way more than we could ever imagine on this earth.  Of course she knew that, but perhaps like me, it settled in what I was saying.  It will be mind blowing, if there's such a reaction in Glory!  Just mind blowing. 

So I shan't fret about my measly little abode here (let us remember, tho, measly to us may be ginormous to someone else).  Let us feather it, nest it, love it, and be content.  It is, after all, a gift from God and our responsibility to care for it. It will shelter us until it is time to move into our permanent home in Land of  Glory. 

Just my thought to share for the beginning of this new year.

Hope

I just finished reading my Kindred Spirit's blog.  I love her and her willingness to be right out there, up front, honest.  Unbeknownst to her, she challenges me in so many ways.

Most of the past few months I have felt like this:

That's Audrey under all those animals.  Just substitute me with her and every day life with the stuffed animals.  That would just about sum it up.  Life just piled right on top of me. 

Being reminded of how gracious, giving, understanding, willing and patient our God is makes that pile a little softer on my shoulders. It's not easy for me.  I am stingy with my problems.  No one can fix them but me.  No one understands but me.  No one cares about them but me.  I'm surprised God hasn't bonked me on the head with a brick by now.  But being reminded to pray diligently and earnestly helps me to "Let go and let God" handle them with me or for me.  It gives me Hope.

Hope.  My word for the year.

"But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it."
Romans 8:25

" . . . we are the clay . . . ."

"But now, O Lord,

You are our Father,

We are the clay, and You our potter;

And we are the work of Your hand."

Isaiah 64:8

 

 

 

 

Jenny painted this clay pot for me 14 years ago this past July.  Although she did not cast the pot she did, however, have a hand in the finished product.  I loved it.  It had bird houses around the pot with a scripture verse along the rim.  It no longer exists.  On Wednesday I asked Bob to bring down Itty Bitty's dresser drawers at his convenience so I could change out her summer clothes for winter ones.  (I'm just a little behind here)  I had the pot sitting at the foot of the stairs in a wicker pot holder.  He didn't clear it when he came down and the corner of one of the drawers caught it and sent the basket and the pot flying.  He offered to save the pieces, but it was beyond repair.  It would have taken a master to fit all those tiny pieces back, fill in the gap where the clay disintegrated and paint it back the way it was.  There was nothing he could do to make it perfect again.  It was beyond his ability.

 

I  have seen a few broken pots in my day.  Some beyond repair like my pot.  Some with just minor cracks and a chip or two ~ nothing that would affect its ability to do as it should.  And some that had just a broken piece that could easily be mended.  Not perfect as before, but almost unnoticeable.  I was free to choose to keep them or just toss them in the landfill.  Depending.  Depending on how badly broken they were.

We are different than the clay posts cast on an assembly line. Slight imperfections can be overlooked and will get labeled as "seconds".  Less impressive they are, but they can beautifully adorned so those imperfections would never be noticed.  Covered by paint or stain or some other artistic medium.  But their overall structure may be weak and vulnerable to everyday use.    

 

But us, we are perfectly cast by the Potter's hands. Just as Jenny's pot is signed, we each have the Potter's stamp somewhere on us or in us!   Even those that mankind may see as "seconds" or "culls" were deliberately and perfectly made.  We were made to withstand everyday use.  Not to buckle or bend under normal circumstances, and even when dilemmas challenge us, we are equipped to carry the weight.   

 

It is when an outside force, one unexpected, perhaps much stronger, takes advantage of us that we may become the broken vessel that may appear totally destroyed.  Broken beyond repair.  Left to be claimed by the garbage truck, tossed in the landfill of life.  That may be what the human eye sees.  But the Potter knows His handiwork. He knows the strength of the clay He used.  He knows repair is possible, even likely.  He is gracious like that.  He allows the observer to see not only the original piece of work, but the repair of the damaged vessel.  It is an amazing thing to see a broken vessel heal right before you eyes.  It is nothing short of a miracle.  A miraculous gift from an amazing Potter.

I am glad my Potter is not of this world.  I'm glad to know I would be doted over like a small child should I become broken. I'm glad to know my Potter will fix exactly what needs to be fixed. I'm glad I don't have to depend solely on my fellow man to fix all my cracks and dings and missing pieces, although they surely would if they could.   And if my vessel were to become so damaged that repair is beyond the question, well, then, I might just be dancing in Glory with a new, perfect body!

 

To Whom Much is Given, Much is Required

I've never had a verse stick in my head for so long.  About a week or so ago, totally out of the blue, there it was and here it still is.  I've tried to ignore it, but it just won't go away.

I remember the first time this verse was ministered to me for my benefit.  I was struggling with the financial responsibility imposed upon me by someone who had asked me to care for something.  Not that I minded caring for this item, mind you, I just didn't think all the financial burden should be mine. It agitated me, to say the least.  As I was pleading my case to Pastor Gore, he, in his infinite wisdom, shared this verse with me.  At least the second half:

Luke 12:48b ~ "But he that knew not, and did commit things worthy of stripes, shall be beaten with few stripes.  For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required: and to  whom men have committed much, of him they will ask the more." 

I got it! We weren't wealthy, but we weren't dirt poor either.  I could take care of that item.  I just felt imposed upon.  But understanding changed how I looked at the situation and I carried on.  God's Word is so clear.  Can I hear an "Amen"?

That was many years ago.  Things  have changed drastically for us here at the ol' home place.  We're not in the same boat we were in then.  As a matter of fact, our boat is more like a dingey these days.  We have no available green stuff.  Our home is bursting at the seams with kids and grandies, so space is nil. Hours in the day and days in the week are short and full.  I'm not sure what God is asking me to give. I don't know what I could possibly have that I can give or that anyone would need,  but He wants me to.  I know He does because this verse will not leave my head alone.  Will.  Not.  Clear.  As. A.  Bell. (not clear what I'm suppose to give, but clear that I'm to give something)

So I'm left pondering this verse and my responsibility to it. I am listening, I am looking, I am waiting.
What to do, what to do?

Aaron?   Hur?  

My Poetry

I had am having a stressful week.  So many things on my mind.  When I get like this I tend to write poetry in my head.  God allows me to remember only certain ones.  It's a good thing, because the ones I "forget" could do damage to one's heart ~ mainly mine.  They are just terribly raw.  And even on those days when forgetful poetry enters my mind God gives me hope, a light in the dark ~ or in today's case ~ a light in the middle of the morning!   It's His way of re-routing my thought process.  Good thing He's in control.  I'd be a bigger mess than I already am!

"Half Moon"

As I stand here at my kitchen sink
Pondering about my day,
I look up to see Half Moon
Staring down my way.

What a pleasant surprise I think
As I see her hanging there
In the pale blue morning Sky
Amidst the clouds so fair.

I forget the woes upon my mind
As I think about this sight . . .
As Half Moon makes her presence known
Donning her soft white light.

Complementing the pale blue sky
Her skin ~ a soft translucent white.
Gives her such a fragile look
Masking her strength and might.

The clouds and she play hide-n-seek
And she's hidden from my sight.
The wisps and willows of the clouds
Are the perfect shade of white.

But then she slowly reappears
Not far from where she was
As the clouds puff slowly past her face
My head becomes abuzz.

I think of what she might see
From her point of view.
Does she see a sweetness fair
Hanging in her sky of blue?

Does she tell the stars at night
Of the many things she sees
As she moves around the earth below
With proficient grace and ease?

It matters not that she sees me.
It's comfort enough to know
That as she hangs in God's great sky
Her light on Earth will show!

Crickett

Bible "Study"

I have started a Bible 'study' of sorts.  Well, it's more like a Bible 'definition'..
The Book of James is my "jumping off" place, since this is one of my favorite books.
The idea is to define each word of the verse so that it becomes more understandable, and in my opinion, more personal.  I am NOT going to do every word, and maybe not every verse, but I am going to tackle the meat of it.  Some things are very simple to grasp, so reading it will suffice. 
Here is the first one I did and the way I've chosen to do it:

James 1:1
"James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes which are scattered abroad, greeting."
James:  one of the twelve apostles - Son of Zebedee and brother to the apostle John.  Author of the book of James.
a servant:  an individual who performs duties about the person or home of a master.
Of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ:   God - the one Supreme being, the creator and ruler of the universe.  Jesus Christ - the Son of God.
to the twelve tribes:  the twelve tribes named after Jacob's twelve sons:  Eastern- Judah, Issachar & Zebulan;  Southern - Reuben, Simeon & Gad;  Western - Ephraim, Manasseh & Benjamin and Northern;
Dan, Asher & Naphtali.
which are scattered:  distributed or occurring at widely spaced and usually irregular (there is nothing irregular about God) intervals.
abroad:  broadly; widely; far and wide
greeting:  to address with some form of salutation; welcome

So, there you have it.  Day one.  Right now I am using http://www.dictionary.com/ until I can get a concordance.  It is my regular "Webster" - my "go to" dictionary .  I have to be very careful that I am not defining the "world's" view of Biblical matters, and that is a scary thing if you are not a Bible scholar, which I am not, obviously - so pray I keep my eyes open!

PS -  It helps to have someone hold you accountable and remind you of what you have said you are going to do, and . . . . then text you to see if you are doing it!  Thanks Nancy ;)

Ooooo. . . . . . Shiney . . . .

Epiphany, according to Webster:

"3. a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience"

I had an "epiphany" this morning while I was getting dressed. I was pondering Ben's little (not so little to him) life's trials and thinking of how he got there. In doing so, it seems my mind literally jerked around to Goldilocks! What a contrast of characters! What a surprise to my thought process!

I will speak of Goldilocks and her role in my "epiphany".

On Wednesday night I kept Rease, Helena and Piper overnight for varying reasons. Paul dropped clothes by for Rease and Helena after they had gone to bed. Rease wore what Paul brought her, but Helena chose something from here. I bagged up the clothes and sat them by the front door to send back with Paul. But as with many things, in the haste of getting home Thursday night, they were left behind.

Rease had a field trip Friday morning. Paul brought the girls early, because Rease had to be to school early. She was all ready except for her hair. While I was putting Rease's hair in a pony tail, Paul told Helena to put on the jeans he had brought for her the other night. All this is taking place in the kitchen. Said jeans are in a bag in the living room.

Helena immediately sees some sea shells she found around the house and wanted to show her daddy - probably for the umpteenth time! He once again directed her to the living room. While on her way there she remembers a bag of sea shells she has in her "scrapbooking cabinet". Paul is getting frustrated by this time. She has been side tracked twice now. So he gets firm with her and sends her yet again to retrieve her jeans. She proceeds to have a conversation with him - about her sea shells as she is dawdling and slowly making her way to the living room. In his frustration I tell him he should be used to her getting side tracked by now. He then said something that is so true - as he is twisting his head and looking around, up in the air at imaginary things - " oooo. Pretty. Shiny. Just like her mommy", indicating that Kelly is the same way.

I related to that this morning. How we get ourselves into such quandaries. I know it doesn't take much in the "oooo, shiny" department to get me side tracked from the things of the Lord. It can be something as simple as thinking about what my day will hold, to doing laundry, or cleaning, or painting, and even the TV and the computer. These "shiny" things keep me from doing what God wants me to do on a regular basis: pray, devotions, reading His Word. I have the good intentions. I start in that direction. Then I catch it out of the corner of my eye. That "shiny thing" beckoning to me. I go to investigate and, well, the rest is history.

So it is in the very lives we live. The "shininess" of it gets us every time. Just like Helena, her mommy, me and even Ben, our peripheral vision catches that shiny object and we need to explore it. We need to embrace it, touch it, live it. I don't stop to think that perhaps Satan knows the shiny things I am attracted to. That he is more than happy to sit in his easy chair with his bag of pop corn and watch how it all plays out. That he is cheering me on, diverting me. I can only speak for myself when I say that I need to channel that diversion to the most important thing in life - my Lord. It will take discipline, but with God's grace and His gentle nudging, I should get there. I want to get there. I need to get there.

That's not to say that "shiny" things don't need to be or shouldn't be explored. Just not every single one! There's always going to be "shiny" things. But. . give to God what is God's and enjoy the shiny things He gives back! That's my goal. That's my desire.

"Dancing With God"

I, by nature, am not a follower.
But, equally, I don't see myself as a leader either. Go figure.

And. . . I'm sure I drive people nuts. Actually, I'm almost positive that I do. But they tolerate me and send me things like the following "article". (I love them for it.) I don't know who wrote it but I love it and I am going to embrace it.


Dancing With God

When I meditated on the word Guidance,
I kept seeing "dance" at the end of the word.
I remember reading that doing God's will is a lot like dancing.
When two people try to lead, nothing feels right.
The movement doesn't flow with the music,
and everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky.
When one person realizes that, and lets the other lead,
both bodies begin to flow with the music.
One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back
or by pressing Lightly in one direction or another.
It's as if two become one body, moving beautifully.
The dance takes surrender, willingness,
and attentiveness from one person
and gentle guidance and skill from the other.
My eyes drew back to the word Guidance.
When I saw "G": I thought of God, followed by "u" and "i".
"God, "u" and "i" dance."
God, you, and I dance.
As I lowered my head, I became willing to trust
that I would get guidance about my life..
Once again, I became willing to let God lead...
My prayer for you today is that God's blessings
and mercies are upon you on this day and everyday.
May you abide in God, as God abides in you.
Dance together with God, trusting God to lead
and to guide you through each season of your life.

I am going to stop, breath in, breath out, wait for God's hand to touch my back, then . . .dance.

A Brief Look at 2010

As I look back over this past year I am surprised at the many things that have transpired.

• Bob took a job in February of this year in Kentucky. When he left there was at least 18 inches of snow on the ground. Thank you very much.
• Ben and I started working on the kitchen in March, which still isn't done, by the way. Talk about patience - whew - I think I have the definition memorized by now!
• Ben graduated from Wor-Wic in May.
• Piper was born at the end of May.
• Bob came back home in June.
• He's had a couple different jobs since then.
• He got laid off from his last job just before Thanksgiving.
• Christmas was wonky this year - to say the least.
• We are currently still unemployed.

I have survived. I will continue to do so. I may go a little crazy now and then, but survive I will do. On the flip side of all this, I have been richly blessed.

• We got a huge tax return last year, thanks to our paying Ben's tuition. That allowed us to buy some things for the kitchen and it is keeping us afloat at the moment.
• Bob was able to get unemployment - not a healthy pay check, but it keeps the creditors fed.
• My sister and her family were generous to us this Christmas - God truly provides in the time of need - and I am eternally grateful for that and I am thankful for her.
• Everyone is healthy (we don't have health insurance at this moment in time)
• I have friends that pray for me and two gals that let me vent to the ends of the earth

I am not fearful of this coming year. It will be what it will be. I only have to "go with the flow" and keep my head bowed and my knees bent. I pray for: wisdom, strength, compassion, humor, creativity, and that ugly word, patience.

So begins a new year!

Ironing

I've been doing a lot of ironing these past two days. Ironing, I found, is very therapeutic for me. I actually like to iron. I remember doing it as a young girl for my mom and when I started Junior High, my Home-Ec teacher taught me some of the proper ways to iron.


As I was ironing I began thinking about how this wrinkled fabric compared to my inner self. I use a hot steam iron to remove unwanted wrinkles from, in this case, curtains. Holding the iron on the wrinkles while the hot steam penetrates the fabric does two things for me. One - it removes the wrinkle - in some cases almost completely. Two - the smell of the steamed fabric gives me a warm feeling inside.

The downside of ironing is that while it straightens and flattens the fabric, if you aren't careful you can make more of a mess than you started with. There have been times I have actually ironed wrinkles into the fabric. And depending on the nature of the fabric, those wrinkles may become permanent. No amount of re-ironing will remove them. The heat has permanently set them in.

So how does this apply to me?

I am very wrinkled inside - in my spirit. I can "feel" these wrinkles. And just as wrinkles on fabric make it look dishevelled, so I feel dishevelled in my soul. The bad thing, or good, depending on how you look at it, is I can't iron my soul, my spirit, my inner self. I simply am not capable of such a task.


Just as fabric becomes wrinkled with normal use, so does my soul. It is life. It leaves wrinkles from the size of straight pens to the size of 2x4's on my heart. Most of the little wrinkles go unnoticed. But when the big ones pile on, I become "unsightly", especially to God.


He is the only One that can remove the wrinkles of my soul. His "iron" is far more powerful than mine and He is more cautious than me. He can remove any wrinkle, at any time. I just have to ask Him to "straighten" me out. And the best part is, He doesn't, I repeat doesn't, iron wrinkles into me!

So, as I am ironing, I made it my purpose to ask God to reveal my wrinkles and iron them out. One by one or two by two. I don't care. Just hit me with that steam. And He obliged. The good thing is He is starting out slow and small. I have a lot of deep wrinkles and the little ones need to be taken care of first and then on to the mama-jamas of them all.


The first wrinkle I felt smooth away - our employment situation. It may not resolve itself right away but my worrying isn't speeding up the process. I have a simple peace about it.


The second wrinkle - the rushed days and busyness of my mornings - how stressed I feel.

So to check on a sleeping child and see the peace on her face - with no worry of who cares for her or who loves her because it is something we freely give to her and she feels it - melts me. It stood as a reminder to me that God freely gives His love to all of us. He marvels in our peace when we let Him. I felt the wrinkle of the stress and busyness smooth away as I stared at her. She is just a small representation of the love I have for my whole family - a love that I can't even describe sometimes.



I can feel the wrinkles subsiding. It will take some time, I'm sure. It may even take a long time, but most assuredly, I am being ironed!

The Simplicity of God

Have you ever had a conversation with a child that concerned God?
One that left chills in you?
One that would cause a lump in your throat?
One that really made you see thru their eyes?

I have had such a conversation with Helena. I failed to write it down at the time, but this was the gist of it:

It had been raining and we were outside putzing around. There were still clouds in the sky, along with some sunshine.

She looked up. She said she could see God's feet sticking out of the clouds. He was wearing boots. Then, she pretty much went back to what she was doing.

She was relatively young when she made this statement. It was spontaneous, out of the blue. It made me wonder. She saw Him? It gave me chills. It made me pause. It made me think.

So. . . . did she really see God, or was it just an over active imagination? Could she have remembered, if only for a second, what her Creator looked like? I believe so. I believe it with all my heart.

I am thankful for the memories of that conversation. I don't want to ever forget it because it motivates me to want to seek the Lord with that child like curiosity.
He is not complicated or invisible. I make Him that way. I've allowed the clutter in my mind and heart to cloud the "view" of Him.

It still gives me chills to this day to think of what she said.

Thru a childs eyes. Plain and simple.

MY POETRY

The Broken Heart

There comes a time when the pain's so strong
You want to pull within yourself.
But life won't wait for your heart to heal,
So you put your pain upon a shelf.

You feel the knot welling in your chest
It's an all too familiar feeling
You've had it before when your heart was torn
And know only time can do the healing.

But life won't wait for your heart to heal,
It's impatient at it's very best
So you remind your heart that the time will come
When pain and tears give way to rest.

The weepy feeling you carry within
Is hidden from everyone's view
You smile and nod and chatter on
Because despite the pain, that is what you do.

You realize as you're kneeling down
And praying all by yourself
There's One who holds your aching heart
He's taken it from that shelf.

And when that day comes and the pain has fled
You'll know Who came to steal
The massive shards of your broken heart
Because He had time to heal.

Crickett

Baby Piper Blowing Bubbles in Mommy's Belly!

Sonograms have come a long, very long, way since my first pregnancy 37 years ago. Every year new and improved and astonishing techniques are discovered and implemented. Modern medicine is certainly a modern marvel.

The sonogram of Baby Piper, taken yesterday, shows her blowing bubbles! ! ! Of all things. . . . . I've heard of them seeing babies suck their thumbs, wave and bounce, catching hic-ups in action and even seeing the heartbeat in their little chests. But blowing bubbles? It is without a doubt one of the most amazing things I have ever seen! Kelly said she was not only blowing bubbles, but you could see her "talking". Her little lips moving.

Oh. My. Word. How. Wonderful! Just makes me melt.

Can one not see God in this? How can man accept that we just "happened"? How can one not understand the intricacy of it all? This little girl moves, waves, hic-ups, her heart beats, and yes, she blows bubbles! !

Who's Flying Your Kite?

Many, many moons ago, I had the privilege to do a topic at a Mother/Daughter banquet at the church I was attending. The theme for that particular year was a "Calendar Party" with 12 groups of ladies dressing 12 tables that corresponded to a month of the year. The table I was assigned to was March. We ladies decorated the table with bright colors and a beautiful centerpiece. We used pinwheels as part of the theme and kites hung above the table. I was given the dubious job of "delivering" our topic to the rest of the ladies. (each of the 12 tables had a designated spokeswoman - bless her soul.) Now mind you, I'm not very good at these kind of things. Standing in front of anyone and delivering any kind of message makes me quake in my boots and my mouth gets dry as cotton. . . . I sweat just thinking about it! Anita (who was part of 'March') came up with the topic idea and presented it to me - I did try - very hard - to get her to do it, but nope, no way. Sweaty palms here. So, I bit the bullet, took the topic and ran with it, and did my best to come up with something that was befitting and somewhat understandable.
So without further delay - here is what I chose to say:

When we think of March we usually think of wind and what goes better with wind than kites?

Kites are wind supported devices (consisting of a wooden or similar framework, covered with paper, cloth, or a synthetic material) used as a rudimentary airfoil, flown for pleasure or "work" or study. (yaaawn. . . .)

In many ways our lives can be compared to kites. Let's look at mothers and their daughters for instance.

The mother holds the string of daughter's life . Like flying a kite, we want our daughters to reach higher and higher (or grow stronger and stronger - pyhsically, emotionally and spiritually). The kite can be set aloft by the action of the wind on its surface - (compare to the teaching process). It's distance or height is controlled from the ground by "playing out the string".

Once we get our kites aloft though, our job is just beginning. We really have to work at keeping that kite in the air. There are power lines, trees, buildings and other obstacles to take into consideration. We have to be careful and maneuver this kite thru these obstacles or trials , always watching, always praying, lest they become entangled.

But what happens if your kite does go out of control and it starts dipping, curving erratically, spinning uncontrollably or gets entangled? (welcome to adolescence!) What if the string breaks and your kite plummets to the ground?

You have a choice to make:
you run after that kite, pick it up, brush it off, mend it and get it right back in the air . . .or
you just stand there wringing your hands and leave the kite laying.

Most of us are right back at that kite! We get her back into the air. Then we stand back long enough to take in the breathtaking beauty of our kite. But . . . we realize . . . . we are no longer in control of the string. We were so involved in flying our kite, caring for it, that we didn't notice that God now has the string. The transfer was so subtle, but so needed.

At second glance we notice our kites are all grown up. Now she has to make the choices. She is flying up there, but she will fall if she doesn't yield to the string holder - her lifeline.

I realize that some of you may not have children. But the same applies to us. Just like the kite, we need an experienced string holder. Without One we would be aimlessly meandering with no purpose or hope. But with God as our string holder we can soar, never fearing our string will snap. We may dip, or spin a little but God is in control. He will "play out our string" to keep us away from the power lines, trees and buildings. His strong hands will safely and lovingly hold the string, giving us direction, purpose and meaning to our lives.

So. . . .how about you - are you drifting around aimlessly or is God holding your string?

A Strong Hold

I enjoyed yesterday's message in church. It was from Philippians 3 on things we should be striving for Biblically. Somewhere around the third point or so, Pastor Sansone gave a visual on holding on to God's Word. Since I am a visual learner, the illustration was great and really made me look at how I am living. He used the hand as the illustration:

• the pinky - hearing God's Word
• the ring finger - reading God's Word
• the middle finger - studying God's Word
• the pointer - memorizing God's Word
• the thumb - meditating on God's Word

I am sure you could put these in any order, but the point (no pun intended) was to show that without all five fingers "holding" onto God's Word, it was very difficult. Each finger used alone was not very effective, but combined you get a strong grasp on the word of God. Pastor Sansone added a 6th element - obeying God's Word. To me this was the sum of the five equaling a two hand grasp which is by far more effective and secure than one and isn't that what God wants - a secure hold on His word? I don't think I will look at my hands quite the same way again. Knowing that each finger has an assignment attached to it will certainly make me more aware of what God wants from me and what I want from myself.