Friday, September 27, 2013

True

True: Writing prompt Five Minute

I do not know how to do this in five minutes. True. What is most true is that living life is hard. For me. For many. Maybe for all? Getting up in the morning is the most difficult, thinking about the day that looms ahead, a day so much larger and scarier than my mind or already weary body can fathom. The future I had anticipated with great faith  for the last twenty-five plus years has arrived, and it is not the picture I had envisioned.  The day when the joy of the Lord would fill my house, my kids, my husband. The struggles we had endured during our growing up and old  years would have passed. Communication that had been nonexistent would be found. Healing words would echo off of walls glazed with the Living Holy Spirit. A peace that passes understanding would permeate the sweet aroma of unconditional abounding love. The hard working husband who had built a comfortable life for his wife and family would have found a safe harbor to anchor his broken and bruised heart, allowing the softness he kept locked tight deep in the dank musty bowls of his life vessel, to break forth. His family, wife, friends would see and experience in this life the true hero that lies within.
Yet, still we struggle. My hero still hide the best of him, keeping it safe from the pain of real life. Our home still filled with life, little humans, bigger humans wanting, needing seemingly more of me than I have left to give. A teen struggles, really struggles to remain loyal to the Jesus he loves, but sees the world out there and all is tasty evil. His mother's heart breaks to fix it for him, counsels, but knows he must find the faith that is his alone, or it is no faith at all. So she watches. And prays. Little ones need lunches packed, papers signed, hair combed on picture day, oops. Spankings, and hugs. Cookies, and vegetables. Need to learn so much, do I remember how? Do I have the energy to care?
All these are true. I am weary. The life I had faith was not the one He had ordained for my good and His Glory.
What is even more true than the most true. Is that I still have faith. A better faith now. A faith that He will complete the good work He began in me. In my husband. In my sons. And in the little grandson who are becoming more like sons every day. It is not my vision that I am in faith for any longer. But a greater Vision that will become mine in time. It is true, I am weary, life is hard. Real Hard. But the Truth is the greatest of all and in Him I will rest.

Addendum 
Point being, there is what is true,  and then there is THE TRUTH. The TRUTH trumps true every time. Praise God.

Friday, September 20, 2013

She

And I laugh out loud. I have so many "hes", plural of he, she is almost an anomaly for me. Two beautiful daughter-in-laws and three granddaughters have been gifted to my by the  Father; other wise my life is full to the brim of "hes". Not news to anyone who knows me or has every visited my blog, I have five sons, two live in permanent grandsons, plus two live with their parents grandsons. All these boys and all their friends and cohorts filled my home with more than the allowed by FDA levels of testosterone. Sometimes I tell people, folks who I sense will see the humor, I suffer from OET, Over Exposure to Testosterone. Amazing how some are offended by the words testosterone or estrogen as if I was explicitly discussing one particular personal activity that could be associated with the two hormones. Sheesh.

She, well...growing up my playmates were more likely than not boys. I loved playing army, or building forts in the woods. I wasn't afraid of worms and could bait my own hook from early childhood. I can swing a hammer, run and hand drill, and I even know how to work a level. I could change the oil in my first and second car, even know where the grease fittings could be found and how many pumps each on needed. I used t' could throw a pretty decent spiral.
Female talents for the most part escaped my understanding or comprehension. Don't get me wrong; it was the 70's I liked mini skirts and shorty shorts. Tube tops and halters. I could dress like a girl, just not sure how to act like a girl. Not that I was boyish or not feminine, but to have a conversation about fashion or make up or heaven forbid a dance or date, I was clueless. My tongue wrapped around the wisdom teeth I was born without and my throat dried up shut tighter than the  toilet when a teenage son tried to flush a whole roll of paper towels filled with dog barf.

Today I am a wife, mother, grandmother, and when I have the energy and brain cells a pretty good friend. But growing up a SHE was not easy. I know now what I did not understand then. It is ok to be different from everyone else. In fact, God MEANT  me to be the way I am. He created me with the gifts and talents that I have to do the work He has set out for me, just for me, special like.
I would rather shovel manure than scrub floors, work with the cows than the laundry, rather wear muck boots than, heels (or any shoe not a boot) I like to cook, but take out is better. Heaven forbid I still not pick my own worm and bait my own hook. I am grateful God that He took the time to design me to be me.
 
Selfie with new shades

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Five Minute Friday, a day late again..."Red"

As in seeing red? on the red eye? In the red? Not able to wear red? (That would be me) The Red Dawn, does that date me? Red at night...? I am running out of creative quips. Not usually a problem for me, but the noise in the house is deafening. The couch and my own self seem to have been mistaken for trampolines. I am pretty darn sure that i am to going to find a quiet five minutes and since it not still Friday I figured I had better just peck something out and be done with it for this week. Now the spitting and sucking it back up into a little boy mouth is a bit distracting. Oh well, red huh? Hmm, red is the Blood that was spilt so on days like today and every day for that matter, means the sinning i will most likely be doing today, the ones committed by my little ones have been covered, debt paid in full, cast down and away from the Sight of then holy God...

Once agin I have been duped my the cyber gouls. I was published and because of my technically challenged fingers my cmpleted though feebly so is poof gone. So I will attempt to finish this week off. Praise God as long as the sun rises and I still have breath I there will be another opportunity to try again.

Friday, September 13, 2013

Five Minte Friday: Mercy

Mercy
Mercy can sometimes be; easy to take, not so easy to give. The work of redemption demonstrated at the cross through the resurrection can be assumed by the Grace conscious Christian. We receive grace and mercy through our salvation and though we all sometimes, me more than I care to admit, can experience condemnation,  better know as self pity, when we commit some ugly or public sin. When we grieve the ones we love because of our selfish actions or words it is easy to fall into a, "Woe is me.. I am horrible"  mode where what we really want is someone to affirm what we already know, that we are OK because of His Saving Mercy and Grace. To me they kind of go together, Grace and Mercy. Often though, I think it can be easy to meander through our lives living our day to day assuming the Mercy of the Cross, and more often the mercy others offer us when we sin against them, disappoint them, or are just plain ignorant of their obvious need. After all as Christians we walk in kindness and reflect the Goodness and Kindness of our Jesus, so we wound NEVER intentionally offend. Or so we think. But Mercy, begins and ends with how we treat, respond to those closest to us. Only when I am continually conscious of my daily need of the Cross Mercy and am regularly my Merciful God  admitting my need for Him, His Work, His Mercy can I pour out my feeble human mercy on those I love.  Gratitude for our most precious gift, a passionate acknowledgement of the Mercy we receive daily should in turn be reflected in the mercy we give to other. Forgiveness. Kind words spoken aptly. Generous sacrifice of our precious time. the acceptance and gratitude for mercy given to us.  Let us give as those who have receive abundantly and may Mercy abound.

Monday, September 09, 2013

Running on Empty

When there is no more, how do we, I, go on? Waking up, thinking of the day ahead, my mind aches with chores, duties, and love that must be given out, drawn up from a well whose dank walls release droplets landing deep into the shallow pool.
A well run long, once fresh and clear,  bubbled exuberant
life filled
refreshing
loving
touching
flowing.
The spring, the source, cut short, stopped up.
Debris and waste once filtered out now dam the cleansing flow that filled the well and drenched the parched.
O return dear Lord and guard the heart the source of life and love.
Refresh the weary. Soften the hardened. Release the flow.
Let love abound.