Five Minute Friday: Grief

 

Even in laughter the heart may ache, and the end of joy may be grief.  Psalm 14:13 NEV

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” ― Charles Dickens, Tale of Two Cities

 

Two quotes, one the Word of God, one from a favorite book. In my experience most of our lives grief and joy walk hand in hand, sometimes one walking in front and one in the rear. If we understand the complete word of God (as much as may be possible for us humans), side my side is the better way. 

 

I believe we will most always carry the burden of grief somewhere within. Death. Disappointment. Loss. Sickness. Family discord will leave its mark on our souls. We may experience relief and healing, but the scars of pain of will remain. 

 

In the depth of our soul the joy of the Lord carries our inner and outer selves, propelling us into the lives we've been called to live. 

Joyfully. 

Not silly, giddy happy. 

But confident despite the hard stuff of this life: HIS Joy, HIS Grace is sufficient for the day that is called today.

 

Five Minute Friday: Cancel

 Cancel

 My deep debt of sin has been canceled. Of that I am sure. Many words could be written concerning that glorious truth. I am struggling with my five minute timer. My brain struggles to process and write in the limited time. Not to mention two boys who demand my constant attention. Maybe I should have waited until I felt more inspired or did not have so much company. And, my Covid-19 positive husband is here dropping off food. 

so for now I am canceled.  

Should I begin again? Or pick up where I left off? 

Either way, I still do not have writing path or destination plan. I read through all the other writings, all polished and professional. 

Writing my name in five minuets can be a struggle. That might be a stretch.  My MS anxiety rattled brain can get a little muddy.

Cancel; I think I am going to cancel comparing myself to others. I am trusting all you beautiful writers to accept, encourage, and hopefully enjoy what i write.

I know God made me a writer. So here I am. I have been encouraged by multiple Christians and non to write. It is who must rise to my calling and not waste a precious God-given gift. 

Have a blessed week. Well, today is already Tuesday, so what is left of the week walk in His mercy, grace, and glory.

Five MInute Friday: Ahead

Many words have been written and spoken in reference to the recent presidential election. I guess I do not feel a pressing need to add or subtract to the dialoges and opinions already expressed.

I feel myself becoming wordy.  I am tempted to when I do not feel I have much to say, or that if I open my heart and share, I could spill more beans than my comfort level allows.  

I have a week ahead of me. Not an easy one. Not many are. Easy. But that is for another time. Choices need to me made on how to approach the days ahead. 

The Covid 19 game of tag landed on my doorstep this morning, having made a brief test visit in October. 

Raising two challenging grandsons, twelve and thirteen, I have been blessed to have them enrolled in a Christian school that has maintained in person teaching. Until this morning. Our school remains open; the boys will remain home. Encouraging them maintain passing grades while in school, can be difficult and tumultuous. My husband, the Covid positive family member, moved a bit grudgingly to his office apartment in town, cutting our (boys and my need to quarantine in half. Many parents and grandparents are virtual schooling children and grandchildren. I am not alone. My heart is with them. However, their trials will not make ours any easier. My personal health issues. The older on the spectrum. In utero drug and alcohol exposure.  Early life trauma, increases the excitement of the endeavor ahead. 

Choice one. Lock my sobbing panicked self in my room.. Not good for any of us. Definitely not God honoring.

Choice two. Look up to Jesus, who is not surprised by my vision of disaster. Depend on Him. Pray more. Stay connected with friends who can support me, not my personal favorite. I prefer muddling and falling in the dark alone. I mean right? I am shaking my head knowing this has not worked well for in the past.

How will the week ahead play out?  Tonight I choose option two. Knowing in advance my responses will be mixture of one and two. The battle begins.The victory will be His alone.

Five Minute Friday: Vote

 

 I have been thinking about this prompt, thinking, not writing. I’m not sure if I can resist some minor editing. But I will try.  

The year was 1976. Our nation’s bicentennial. An election. And the year I graduated from high school. The second presidential election eighteen years olds got to vote. I was more than excited. I registered. Went to my polling place ready to make my tiny dent in American society. 

An accidental president and an unknown peanut farmer. Forty some years ago my selection was my own. A bit of a contentious election; voters received their information from television and the written pages. Not near the frenzied media barrage we experience today. Facts. Figures. Images. Instantly coursing through our homes, our lives. The choice is remains simple; decide, choose, vote. 2020 has been flooded with strife, violence, division, and political vomit. (To graphic perhaps) 

Still, one thing remains from my first experience voting; to today’s manic hate fueled election; Jesus is Lord. Of our land and our election. He rules. Not only our country, but all of creation, from the  “in the beginning” until His glorious return...

No matter the results of this election, we ran be assured we are safe under His reign and rule. Let’s fix our eyes on Him. 

Disappoint

 Seems difficult to write the word “disappoint.”  Disappointing.  Disappointed. Would fit more easily into a sentence. To disappoint; indicates that I have not met the expectations of someone or a group of someones. Even now I’m struggling with the free write conception. I want to proof and correct my writing. My own fear of causing disappointment,  even to my expectations of myself haunts me. Disappoint is a strong common EMOTION in my inner being.

I depend on myself far to often to please others and myself. In Christ I can remember he never disappoints. In pursing Him my striving for perfection is me with His never failing Grace. 

Monday

  Rainy Days and Monday’s 

 

What is it about mondays? A song from the past. Deep past.  Wanders and weaves through the mind. 

Thinking back. Thinking about the now. The tomorrow.

The heart closes tightly, keeping the weeping from bursting forth. 

Sadness aches, lurking in the deepest depths. Screaming to be set free.

Recognized.

Embraced. 

Soothed. 

Healed. 

Fear. The greatest liar continues to stifle the letting go. 

Sneers. 

Mocking the bleeding scars as weakness. 

Tells the feeble heart no one cares. 

Keep it in. Protect it from judgment and critical spirits. 

Fix yourself. You’re lazy. 

Useless. Unloveable. 

Failure, go to bed. Hide. 

You’ll never get it right. 

But God says; you my child. 

Do not feed the fear. 

Look up to Me. 

I’m the comforter. 

The healer. 

I feel your pain. 

Broken. Timid. The heart resists. 

Unsure and afraid. 

Trust destroyed by man, the ears are sealed, the heart hardened. 

Hope is present 

Yet unseen.

Enough

Quite a day so it was. 

Minutes from sleep, I

Ponder the hours. Each distinct 

From another. 

Up 

down.. Fearing the 

Low place would overcome

And the darkness would see

Victory 

Late now

The circle complete

Breathing demonstrates 

A serenity 

A sort of calm

Saying a good

Not perfect day 

Has passed

Jesus reigns

And I am

Enough

Lost and found

 Abandoned by man

Wandering alone 

The heart  hemorrhaging 

Light all but gone

Emptiness surrounds 

A soul abused 

And yet golden rays 

Edge into the abyss

The Son's

Warming love 

Expands and

Is welcomed 

Hope fills the heart 

Rescue is sure 

Let His praise

Thunder throughout

The Next Line

Doing what comes next
The next day
Next week
Next minute
All blur
Decisions. Chores. Errands.
Appointments. Phone calls.
Endless. Endless.
But still; with purpose.
Overwhelmed, She perseveres 
Trusting not her frail attempts.
Lord of Heaven Son of God
Holds fast
She lets go
Falls
Stumbles
On her face
On her knees
He holds fast
Holds her Safe
Anoints her shriveled soul 

Hope peeks,
Seeps
Shadow slips
Sliver of hope
Appears

Corny Titile

Grain, Pain, and Singing in the Rain.
Many years title of the consistent, not consistent attempts at my keeping a blog; a journal of sorts.
Wondering if its time for a new title; a new direction in my writing in my life. The old title, born out of younger years. From a younger woman. In a different stage in her life history.
So I will ponder and maybe pray, seeking a name of the new direction, new chapter, of writing.
Of life.

A Long Long Time Ago

So yea, its been a while. Over a year, pretty much a year and a half.
Since I wrote anything but a check.
It took several hours and a a few years off my life to even find my blog. Whether I write another word, this blog is a list of life lessons recorded.  A list of lessons I do not want to lose.

Oh Hope, where art thou

What’s on my mind?

Sitting in my office attempting “quiet time”, my philodendron caught my eye.

Morning skies dark and bleak gave no offer of hope.

Yet. Stems. Leaves.

A small flower.

Barely noticeable.

All stretching. Leaning into.

The sunshine.

Where was none visible.

Today.

So many moments I long for the warmth of the sun on my face.

The evident presence of the Son in my heart. Realizing only the dark

and the bleak.

My plant knows more than I.

It knows the sun and Son are always present if not visible. 

Continually life giving.

Unwavering source of Life and Hope.

Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father, 

who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, 

comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word.

  2 Thessalonians" 2:16-17

Cry Out

"Where have all the flowers gone?" Nah. Coming up with some pithy quote to excuse away the months that have passed. Empty. Days. Weeks. Since fingers tapped the keys
The Sandy I knew. Shrinking. Dying for years. Decades Perhaps?
The reclusive hermit loner I've fought, it's ugly spirit, crept deeper into the crevasses of my numbing soul. As if a poisonous vine; depression, anxiety; wound itself around. In. Out. Choking the very life from my eyes. Darkening my world. My life.
On tip toes the slimy, sticky bottom threatened to draw me deeper.
But God! Never. Let. Me. Go.
Always held tighter in His arms than any threat formed against me. Unknown to me, but always present. I was safe.
He allowed me to sink.
So I could rise again.
To a battle.
Fought every day..
I cry out to Jesus.
Who expects nothing.
But has given all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VeGNgBwPTMA

So my cookies are messed up and it took me best part of an hour to get this far. I am not even sure if I can publish. The new computer has no stored photos, so I cannot spice up the post with color or cute.
Just me and the keys and not everyone home, there is little hope of my tapping out anything profound or funny; or even coherent.
Done for today.

only two months later?? wow!

Its quiet. 
I'm alone.
Dishwasher is running.
Washing machine is running.
I brushed the crumbs off the counters; floors always need swept anyway.
I sit. Listening to the fish tank, didn't fill quite full enough; the sound of water gliding over mossy stones ripples behind me. Sucking in the deep quiet. Measured
breathing. A good dog at my feet. 
My heart should be at peace. Resting. Relishing the moment. 
Morning chaos imprinted, leaves me with a rumbling heart. I know His peace is tangible. 
Touchable. I am close. For now that is enough.
The knowing. Is enough. So often we think we need. Deserve. More. 
He says His Grace is sufficient. 
His Peace He leaves with us. 
Expect trials. He carries us.
His Words. 
He is The Word. 
And it is good.

Never Disappoints

So, almost eleven months since I put any words in print. Print that I saved or shared.
Bravely I sit on my front porch staring out at the view and farm I love.

I was supposed to with a bunch of women friends at Eat n Park celebrating my two week past birthday. A group of us bound together by God meet monthly for worship and prayer, studying who God is and how we are to walk the paths He has called us to travel. Additionally, we gather on the first Tuesday of every month to celebrate the lives of those of us born in that month.
Dressed and ready to go my husband got; the phone call. Larry our farm hand was broke down. Combining soybeans in the driest of damp fields, his Gleaner grinds to a halt. Disappointed, I released him to go. Too late to find a sitter for the boys, grandsons eight and nine, permanent residents, sons now really, could never be left alone; maybe till they marry.
Regardless, here I sit. Not at Eat n Park. Not with my friends.
Again.
See, the girls all get together for their bimonthly gatherings. Rarely, do I attend.

Having kids at fifty-eight can be a little challenging. We have a few sitters. And, we have grown children who would are happy to help out sometimes. But last minute. Right now. A tough one.
But tonight we had it in the bag. I was going.
Disappointed. Again.
Quickly, God dropped into my heart. Well, A piece of a verse. I am not a good memorizer.
Google. Must love Google.
New Living Translation,
Romans 5:5
5. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because He has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.

Boys throw the football back and forth on the gravel path in front of the house. Begging for praise for the amazing catch or pass.
It is good.
I am not disappointed.

Another Day

My handsome son dressed to the nines. 

 Home from college he escorts a dear friend to the Snowball soirée. 

Friday was yesterday 

and tonight we watch 

the Steelers vs Cincinnati in freezing rain.

 And yes, as of January 9 my stockings are still hung on the mantle forgotten. 

And never has creative coloring caused such mayhem and chaos.  

Family together beats family apart. 

Tomorrow's adventures will meet us in due time. 

Enjoying the moment is a blessing galore. 

Found It!

I cannot believe I found my blog. All. By. Myself. 
I have had so much to say. 
and no where to record it.
Real question is, can I find my way back here again. 

Open

It's the being open that matters. Folks will tell you, "God picked you for this tough task because He knows you are strong enough.. Nope, pretty sure not.  God uses the very weakest to pour His strength into. I'm thinking we are not expected to be whole enough to hold or contain His mighty strength; just open to receive it... So if it spills. Leaks. Overflows out the top of my tiny heart. So be it.  I am not solitary. The strength will be used by Him who gave it in whatever, over, into whomever is near. It s ok I can't hold it or carry it all. Being open to receive is the matter of if all. What happens to the Spirit of God as it flows through me is not my worry.

I have shut myself up tight. Avoiding the touch of the Father. avoiding the touch of any who might ask of me more than I feel I am able to give. Because it's true. I am unable. I am weak. But then it's not about me anyway. Is it? Retorhical question.  Jesus wants to use the weak and barely willing to reach and heal and bless and build up the broken. He will use my crawling when I cannot stand to demonstrate none of us are good enough. Strong enough. Only He in us lies the victory.