Never Before Heard Real Sounds

This is a repost from October 27, 2011 but with our life riding the waves of a tumultuous sea lately, I felt I needed to read it again and thought perhaps I should share it here once more.

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Years ago we purchased a piece of property in a little known town, Quilcene, WA.  Quilcene is about a 4-hour drive from our home in Portland, and our dream was to build a retirement home in Quilcene.  Time went by, and God's plans for our lives unfolded differently from our own and that didn't happen.  Yet, I still remember a day we were there clearing away brush and debris, making our plans and dreaming, and yes, gazing out over our view of the area, something like the view in the photo here.

photos.moxis.com

The day was clear and the sun shone down on us as we worked.  A light breeze kept us comfortable as we worked.  My husband had wandered farther away from me where I couldn't hear or see him.  Suddenly, I heard what I thought was thunder, and then this little rustling sound that kept repeating over and over again.  Then the thunder would roll again.  And another rustle.  You can imagine this city girl became a little leery of the sounds she was hearing.

I went in search of him and when I explained my concerns, he laughed his heartiest laugh.  This made me furious that he should laugh at my fears.  His explanation calmed my fears and made me laugh at myself.  The thunder I heard was the hoof beats of the retired thoroughbreds galloping on the next property over, and the rustling was the gentle fall of dried leaves one or two or three at a time in succession.  How silly I felt!  Living in the city sounds are so cacophonous that we don't hear the gentle sounds of the quiet, far away from the city sounds noises. 

Athloneassociates.com

I went in search of him and when I explained my concerns, he laughed his heartiest laugh.  This made me furious that he should laugh at my fears.  His explanation calmed my fears and made me laugh at myself.  The thunder I heard was the hoof beats of the retired thoroughbreds galloping on the next property over, and the rustling was the gentle fall of dried leaves one or two or three at a time in succession.  How silly I felt!  Living in the city sounds are so cacophonous that we don't hear the gentle sounds of the quiet, far away from the city sounds noises. 

Many days the sounds around me shut out God's desire to be closer to me, and I don't take the time to stop and listen fully.  Perhaps I hear a whisper or a nudge, but like the hoof beats and leaves falling I mistake them for something other than God attempting to enter my life.  Like a child at her father's knee, I want to be closer to him and listen fully to what he has to teach me.  That will only happen if I slow down and still myself to quietness. 

"Step out of the traffic! Take a long, loving look at me,
your High God, above politics, above everything." 
Psalm 46:10 (The Message)

Q4:  Have you stepped out of the traffic lately?  Have you stepped away from the noises of every day life?  Have you heard the quiet and listened for God?

Disconnected!

Life was definitely simpler before the age of technology came almost full circle.  I've felt lost the last two or three days.  Our internet connection has been on and off, mostly off!

In the midst of an online writing class, I felt lost without access to email or the ability to find the answer to a question I needed to include in my work.  I felt disconnected, detached from the world out there, separated from family and friends.

What would I have done before?  Pick up the phone and call family and friends.  Go to the library or the handy home encyclopedia set for my answers.  Since I wouldn't have signed up for an online class, no problem there.  And anything I wanted to send someone could have gone via the good old U.S. mail.

But here I am frustrated, confused and bemuddled without my internet connection.  Bottom line means we're in the process of getting a more reliable provider in place, but it will take awhile.

Meantime, please don't forget I'm here.  I'm just asking your patience until I get back in the swing of things with my blog and my connection.

Perhaps another connection is calling . . . perhaps I should answer.  Yes, God -- what is it?

“I call them sacred echoes because I noticed that throughout my relationships,
daily life, and study, the same scripturally sound idea or phrase or word will
keep reappearing until I can no longer avoid its presence."  ~~The Sacred Echo
Margaret Feinberg

Counting One Thousand Gifts - #3 (129-146)

"Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever."
1 Chronicles 16:34 (NIV)

My list grows longer, and each day giving thanks is becoming an important, unforgettable part of my day.  My eyes see things they've never seen before, my ears hear things differently.  Love grows in abundance in my heart, my home, my marriage in ways I never imagined possible.  The Lord is good; He loves and that's all I need to now to give Him thanks.

129.  Sun breaks on rainy days.
130.  Constant and faithful friends.
131.  Baby Nyeli's new home.
132.  Enjoying the gift of water.
133.  Day trip to the coast to visit our son and DIL's recent cottage purchase.
134.  Beautiful weather at the coast -- sun shining, brilliant blue sky, mid 60's.
135.  Beautiful drive through the Coast Mountain Range with lovely pastoral views and changing colors.
136.  Seeing Craig and Gigi's happiness.
137.  Productive days.
138.  Friend Joanne's amazing progress after heart surgery.
139.  Gift of prayer.
140.  The Book of Psalms.
141.  Laughter with my husband.
142.  My dad's Christian walk.
143.  Sound of music on a lovely fall afternoon.
144.  Walking with my husband.
145.  News of Josie's birth.
146.  Fall mornings.

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http://www.aholyexperience.com/

Linking up with Ann Voskamp today giving thanks for the many gifts God has given us.  Won't you join us?



A Message for Suzanne

I follow several of my favorite writers on Facebook, and this morning Lysa TerKeurst used the following verse of Scripture in her post:  "A fools lips walk into a fight and his mouth invites a beating."  These words are found in Proverbs 18:6.  Something about them grabbed at my heart, and immediately I knew what it was that had grabbed at me.  God was trying to tell me something that I had ignored and avoided for so many years.  The following will explain, I hope, my need to write out these thoughts.

Suzanne, I don't quite know how to begin other than to say I'm sorry.  Sorry for the times we have hurt each other, but more so for the times that together we have hurt your dad, my husband.  For 30 years now, we have each allowed our pride and stubborness and yes, our words, get in the way of maintaining a peaceful relationship for your relationship with your dad.  Somehow, "we" doesn't always work for you and I, and I'm willing to admit my guilt and my part in that.  But this isn't about the past, it's about moving forward.

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In the beginning, when your dad and I married, I spoke to the fact that I wanted us to be friends.  I told you that I couldn't be your mom simply because I wasn't and I shouldn't try to be.  You seemed pleased with that.  And I have kept my promise there.  But one promise I've not kept is one I've made over and over again to God and that is to hold my tongue when the words I emit aren't helpful.  Thus, my letter.

On Father's Day this year, you called your dad.  For months, it had seemed that we had finally reached a point where the three of us could hold a pleasant conversation on the phone.  Living and talking long distance isn't easy, but you need to know that a threesome was what dad always wanted.  But on Father's Day, it all fell apart.  You and I couldn't restrain ourselves to not "get into it" over certain words you had used to describe your dad.  I should have just let it go, but Satan was sitting on my shoulder urging me to defend my husband.  That isn't necessary -- God is always here to make things right -- and I should have just stayed silent.  My words weren't necessary.  I am really sorry that the call ended so abruptly with so many hurt feelings. 

It has bothered me ever since and although it seems we are at an impasse again, I am writing down these words because I have prayed and God has lead me to accept my place in this difficult place.  I very much want you to have time with your dad.  So, I'm willing to allow you and dad to have your phone calls alone, the way they probably should always have been unless you invited me in.  Dad and I have talked about this, and we are in agreement that it should be tried.  I hope you will accept my apology and that you'll be willing to pick up the phone and call dad real soon or email him.  He misses you, and his heart breaks when he doesn't hear from you. 

Most importantly, I have asked God's forgiveness in all this, and I ask for yours too.

Sherrey

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I should tell you that Suzanne responds best to emails via Facebook so I've left this message for her there.  My hope isn't that I'll hear from her.  My hope is that she will take up that cell phone and call her dad.  She and I have hurt each other, and most of all my sweet husband, more times than I'd like to count.  I've never reached out like this before.  When I saw Lysa's verse today, I knew what I had to do.  I had been foolish in ignoring God's guidance before but now he had literally called my hand!  I needed to accept responsibility and no longer be a fool in subjecting my husband's heart to hurt by my lips and my words.

 

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I'm linking up with Joan over at Grace Cafe today, a part of her Reflections of His Grace blog.  Won't you join me there to read Joan's post for today as well as those of others who have linked up?  You won't be sorry!

 

Counting One Thousand Gifts with Ann Voskamp - #2

Today is Monday and that means I have the opportunity to share with you God's wondrous grace and what I've added this last week to my list of a thousand gifts He has provided:

120.  Chance encounter with amazing woman of faith named Marilyn.
121.  Bible study with Margie, Julie and Gail.
122.  Quiet time for writing and reflection.
123.  First MOPS meeting of the year and new moms.
124.  Powerful Sunday message from our pastor wife.
125.  Baby Lillian's safe arrival -- happy mom and dad, Wendy and Chad.
126.  Seeing Gail once more before she goes home to Florida.
127.  Goodness of kids helping others, especially their parents.
128.  Patience of my flute instructor, Sarah.

How has God graced your life this week?  Want to share with us?  Come on over to Ann's place, http://www.aholyexperience.com/, and link up to share your thoughts and gifts.  Also, take time to see some of Ann's amazing photography on her post today.  Just click below and you can be there in a flash!

http://www.aholyexperience.com/

See you there!

We Aren't Strangers Any More . . .

Our pastor related the most charming story during his sermon.  Today was World Communion and Peacemaking Sunday, and the message today was on reaching out to those of all diversities and ethnicities and making the effort to show God's love.  So, our pastor shared the following with us:

Pastor had been traveling and boarded a plan bound for home in Oregon.  He took his seat beside the window and pulled out a book he was reading and enjoying very much.  His eyes took in the two seats beside him and noted with some degree of selfishness that they were not taken and perhaps he'd be alone and in quiet for the duration of the flight.

Soon, however, a young mother with a young son took those seats and began settling in.  The little boy turned and looked at Pastor with a huge smile.  How could you turn away?  Fairly soon it was acknowledged that said little boy was three years old and named Nathan.  Nathan immediately took up with our pastor and began chattering away.  Not too long into the conversation, Nathan announced to our pastor, "We aren't strangers any more.  I love you!"  The innocence and unconditional love that children possess was evidenced in Nathan's bold and honest statement. 

Eventually Nathan managed to get out of his seat belt and climbed into our pastor's lap.  Not being strangers makes everything much more comfortable.  And adding love to that recipe is the ultimate in outreach and spreading God's love!

Young Nathan is an example to all of us!  Let's see if we can't be less like strangers and more like people in love with each other this week. 

"Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other."  John 13:33-35 (The Message)

Where Do I Belong?

When my parents married, they each had children from previous marriages.  Daddy had three daughters, and mama had a son.  I'd look at photographs and didn't see anyone I really looked like.  As I grew, I was the short, chubby cousin.  My brothers had the good thick, curly hair from mama.  My eyes weren't the same color as anyone else's.  I would wonder just where I came from and where did I fit in this puzzle called family.

Daddy had been raised in an orphanage and was separated from his older sister and brother when he was about 14 or 15.  Life got in the way of his searching for them, but the summer I was 12 he found them both living within 100 miles of each other between Tampa and Orlando, FL.  He could hardly wait to get us packed up and hit the road!  I figured this would just mean more people I didn't fit it in with.

Imagine my surprise when this lovely lady opened the front door, hugged my daddy, and turned to me and said, "I'm your Aunt Lucy.  I'm so glad to meet you."  There I stood, years older of course, but I looked like Aunt Lucy!  Then she introduced me to her daughter and the likeness was uncanny.  Suddenly, I fit in -- I belonged.

But even without that sense of belonging, as I grew in my Christian faith I learned that I had no cause to worry about fitting in or belonging. 

I Peter 2:9 says, “But you are a chosen people ... belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” (NIV)

God had claimed me as His own from the moment I was conceived in my mother's womb.  Even though I might have strayed from time to time, I always belonged to Him.  I am His.

Linking up with Beck Gambill on Sister to Sister.  Today's word is belonging.  Have any thoughts to share?  Visit Beck's site to read the guidelines for writing your feelings about belonging.

Water My Garden

"But Jesus intervened: 'Let the children alone, don't prevent them from coming to me.

God's kingdom is made up of people like these.'"

Matthew 19:13 (The Message)

They came!  And they kept coming!  Children pouring down the center aisle of our church on Sunday morning.  Smiling faces, skipping feet, all clean and shining -- they loved that they were coming.  Coming to hear God's Word in our Sunday morning Children's Message. 

I selfishly hoped that it was a long message, and that the pastor's sermon was even longer.  I'd received a call on Friday asking me to substitute for one of our teachers who was to have made an announcement about our need for Sunday School teachers.  Since she would be in class, which runs subsequently with our worship service, she wouldn't be there to do the announcement.  Would I do it for her?  Fortunately for her, she's a person I just can't refuse!  So, there I sat Sunday morning still muddling over what to say, how to catch the attention of folks in the pews, the older set whose children are off in college now.  I should have been paying closer attention, I know, but I was running out of time.

Suddenly, I heard words being whispered into my ear.  What?  Did you say something?  Who's there?  The words came again, "Water my garden."  Whatever could that mean, especially in the middle of worship?  And again, "Water my garden."  Then, it was like a cool breeze touching my shoulders, and I knew.  I knew He had been there, sitting on my shoulder, whispering His sacred wishes in my ear.  Of course, these children are the future of our church and like a garden they need to fed, watered and nurtured into His Kingdom and into His knowledge.  I couldn't fathom the beauty of this analogy and keep my mind on the pastor's sermon, but I knew I'd been given a gift to share with our congregation.  And share it I did!

I'm spending time in prayer this week hoping that His Words came through me with effect and power, and that they have stirred a longing in someone's soul to reach out and touch this beautiful garden filled with bright and eager faces, and that they will come and water His garden. 

Remember the Sabbath

Observe the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Work six days and do everything you need to do. But the seventh day is a Sabbath to God, your God.   Exodus 20:8 (The Message)

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Eyes slowly open.  Clock says 4:30.  Toss, turn, try to slip back into sleep.  Now it's 5:30.  A peek out the window shows the night is slowly turning to day.  Light is changing.  On the cusp of a new day.  And then it comes to me.  It's Sunday, the Sabbath day, the holiest of days in the week.

"Up," I tell my mind and my body.  Enough time until the clock goes off to sit quietly and think on this day.  My mind wanders to childhood memories of Sundays, a time when family truly honored the Sabbath, a day of rest as ordained by God in the verse of Scripture above.

In my family, Sundays were all about worship, Sunday School classes, and family time.  The most menial of tasks were allowed but there were things that weren't allowed because it was Sunday.  As children, we weren't allowed to go roller skating, attend a movie, play board games or cards, and as a young girl, I wasn't allowed to do any sewing or needlework as that could be defined as "work" and not a part of the rest we were supposed to be observing.  It was confusing because mom cooked and cleaned up in the kitchen, but dad explained that this was a necessity of life and that it wasn't work in the same sense of the word.

Despite all the invisible scars left behind by my dysfunctional home life and at the hands of my mom, I'm so pleased that this gift of the Sabbath was passed along by my parents to me.  I still look on my Sunday as Sabbath.  I try my best to treat it as my day of quiet and rest along with my husband.  We may engage in some pleasant activity, such as a concert at a local church, but beyond that we limit ourselves to time at home or in nature taking in God's creation.

Soon, another week begins.  How will you observe your Sabbath?

God in the Jury Room

As you've probably guessed, this post has nothing to do with writing my memoir, "righting" my life, or my desire to share my experiences of same with you.  It has to do with my experience as a juror just  yesterday.  More than eight times I've been summoned for jury duty, either at the federal or state level.  Not once have I ever been seated, most likely because at the time I was employed as a legal secretary.  Attorneys don't like legal secretaries or other law firm employees sitting on their juries! 

However, now that I'm retired this was my second summons to duty, and I was seated on a six-person jury to hear a drunk driving case.  Not as exciting as some complex piece of litigation surrounding contracts or business disputes or even neighborly disputes, but important at any rate, as justice must be served. 

The prosecution and defense attorneys made opening statements, called and questioned witnesses, and then made closing arguments.  Each was convinced and had efficiently pled their case.  Now the judge has instructed the jury in its duties for finding the defendant guilty or not guilty.  Obviously, the State was hoping for a guilty verdict as one of its laws had been broken according to the Prosecuting Attorney.  On the other hand, the defendant and his attorney were hoping for a not guilty verdict.  Each had stood before us and stated the "facts" and shown us the "evidence." 

The six of us were adjourned to the jury room to deliberate.  I knew in my heart that this young man wasn't guilty based on the evidence and facts stated by the Prosecuting Attorney.  The law required that the individual charged with driving under the influence be on a public traffic way while intoxicated and that his blood alcohol at that time be 0.08%.  The Prosecuting Attorney couldn't show us that this was accurate.  Four of six jurors agreed; two were hold outs.  What to do?

I knew that God was with me yesterday; He is every day.  So, I prayed that He would take control of our deliberations and lead us to the right decision.  God's powerful presence took over that room and the minds in it, and in the end we reached a mutual decision of not guilty.  I firmly believe that God was in our decision based on the following verse of Scripture:

"Absolutely everything, ranging from small to large, as you make it a part of your

believing prayer, gets included as you lay hold of God."

Matthew 21:21 (The Message)

It is my continuing prayer that you will make everything in your life, small to large, a part of your daily prayer life.  God wants to hear our prayers.

Wonderfully Made!

Today on Heart to Heart with Holley author and blogger, Holley Gerth, wrote on this same topic (Holley's blog).  Her words captured my eyes and drew me in closer and closer to see exactly what she was going to share.  You see Holley started with those labels we all check on items we purchase, and I couldn't quite understand where she was headed.

Then, as Holley always does, her writing explodes and there it is!  Holley was talking about how wonderfully God had made each of us.  I have a hard time remembering sometimes that God made me, especially when I examine in great detail the flaws that I see or that others kindly, or not so kindly, point out to me.  But He did wonderfully make me, flaws and all!  The joyous part of this story is that He loves me, flaws and all.  Isn't that just the greatest?  Flaws and all doesn't deny me the right to consider myself wonderfully made by my Heavenly Father. 

I cannot for one minute improve on the quote from Max Lucado or the words Holley quotes from her book, God's Heart for You: Embracing Your True Worth as a Woman.  But what I can share with you is that part of my life story deals with a time when I felt no worth at all, beginning early in my childhood.  All self esteem was stripped away, and I grew up believing I had done everything wrong.  Worthless!  No good!  Ungrateful!  These are just some of the words that resounded in my ears and memories.  Yet I had been learning about God at church and in Sunday School, and finally He made progress teaching me that I was worth a lot to H im, that I was a good girl and later a good woman, and that He knew gratitude lived within me, and much, much more!  Such freedom is unbelievable wheny you've felt imprisoned by invisible scars of emotional and verbal abuse.

If you ever doubt, if you ever forget, think on these words and remember you are wonderfully made!

Image found at http://www.joyfulexpressions.us/HTML/CustomDesignsForYou.htm

Type A Personality and Me

I know it's likely you've probably heard more than you'd care to about Type A personality types.  Well, so I have I and I have to live with one -- ME!  I'm learning that my obsession with detail, perfection and doing it all for everyone is getting in the way of being the me I want to be.  This past year I've been trying to sort out just what the priorities in my life should be.  I think I've come up with a plan, and I'm hoping with the challenges I'm soon to face I will come out the other end successful.

First, I want to give credit to Ann Voskamp for writing the book, One Thousand Gifts.  After reading it and rereading portions of it, I began to see that I haven't been filled with a spirit of gratitude for a long time.  And that translates to I haven't been confronting God on a daily basis.  Confronting not in an oppositional way, but confronting Him to welcome His companionship as I travel this dusty road called life.  He wants to be needed; He wants to know I need Him.  In the process, God leaves me morsels daily of things to be grateful for, and I too have begun my list of "one thousand gifts."  Try it -- it will bring you such joy!

Secondly, a big thanks to Mary DeMuth for her prolific blogging, writing, and spiritual gifts.  Mary's writings are my mentoring source and my encouragement for the writing I want to do.  They are one reason I'm not in this blog as often as I probably should be.  Wanting to be a writer and being one are two entirely different things.  No two writers approach their work the same, and I'm still trying to find my niche.  Mary's works and blog are providing some of that guidance.  But the real killer here is finding time and recently Mary talked about The Pomodoro Technique and how it has helped her through difficult times.  Now, if I could just find the time to implement Pomodor's technique!

Now, I have uncovered and confessed my biggest problem -- time management.  With these tools in hand, perhaps I can capture the amount of time needed each day to do each of the important things in my life.  I need to sit down with Pomodoro's instructions for making a list and executing on it, and I need to ask God to help me as I try to accomplish managing my time.  Asking Him for what I need is one priority; spending time with Him is another.  If I put these two first with my gratitude list as three, I don't think I can possibly fail to make progress.

“Hurry with your answer, God! I'm nearly at the end of my rope. Don't turn away;
don't ignore me! That would be certain death. If you wake me each morning with the sound
of your loving voice, I'll go to sleep each night trusting in you. Point out the road I must
travel; I'm all ears, all eyes before you.  Save me from my enemies, God—
you're my only hope! Teach me how to live to please you, because you're my God.
Lead me by your blessed Spirit into cleared and level pastureland.”
Psalm 143:10 MSG

What I Mean by "Righting"

I agree it is an odd usage for the word and not one we hear frequently.  And yet it seemed to fit a dual purpose.  It is my opinion that during my childhood and through a part of my adult life I was wronged by a parent.  Deep in my soul I feel a need to write that story out in order to find healing for myself and in the off chance of publishing my work.  More strongly, I feel that in writing my story I will also accomplish a righting of the wrongs that worked against me for so long.  It is a painful and slow process, and one I'm just beginning.  I don't know exactly how it will all work out but I firmly hope that in some way my writing might also help you.

As the verse of Scripture above, the Lord has plans for you and for me, "plans to prosper" us and "plans to give us a hope and a future."  Won't you come along with me?

30 Years!

I opened my eyes this morning and as I turned to see my husband lying beside me, I couldn't believe that it had been 30 years ago today that God brought us into this relationship called marriage.  Bob is the greatest gift God has given me in that 30 years, and I still treasure him as much or more today than I did on August 15, 1981.

Bob and I had traveled rocky roads in previous marriages.  We agreed to be married after dating and knowing each other for a rather brief period of four months.  You see we knew God was in the formula, and that with  Him in the formula we couldn't go wrong.  This isn't to say that life has always been easy because it hasn't.  We blended two families on weekends and during summers.  Job changes resulted in our moving from Tennessee to the Pacific Northwest where Bob found work and had family.  This meant leaving my family and friends of a lifetime in Tennessee.  However, as my story unfolds, I didn't find this too difficult as it meant another chance at living life to the fullest and in happiness.

Now that we've celebrated this day we're laughing and thinking, "What if?"  What if we make it another 20 years will the kids throw us a 50th anniversary celebration (mumblings were heard that we'd be 94 and 85 by then)?  Our 40-year old son called today to wish us a happy anniversary and ended the conversation with, "I'd better let you go so you can get started on that next 30!  Do you realize Bob will be 104 and you'll be . . .?"  I filled in the blank with 95, and he gasped!  Sad but true.

Life is filled with good memories like these and yet I need to purge some memories that weren't so good before I married Bob and God became a bigger force in my life.  Please stay tuned!