Simply Sunday: Proverbs 3:3

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Linking up with the beautiful ladies of

and with Barbie at Freshly Brewed Sundays

for a time of quiet reflection and inspiration.

Do You Love Me?

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Do you love me?

Difficult question to ask.

Unless you know the answer for sure.

A joke went around a few years ago about a couple married for many decades.

The woman asked her husband, "Do you love me?"

He responded, "Well, of course I do!  I told you I loved you the day we married and nothing's changed."

My husband and I have made this a little game between us.  To see if the other comes up with the punch line, or something different.

Bob, my husband, isn't a man given to many words.  Like my father, his affections are shown in a variety of ways.

Occasionally, I like to hear those three little words, "I love you."  So, I pose the question . . . and usually he responds with, "Nothing's changed."  Followed by his long, slow grin I love so much.

Reflecting on this question, I found myself thinking of the Heavenly Father's love. If we but cast our eyes upon Him and allow our hearts to dwell with His, we will never be separated from God's amazing grace and love.

Do you love me?  A question one will never have to ask of God.  His answer is clear:  If we but love Him, He will love us, forever and ever.

God showed us that love in the ultimate sacrifice of His Son, Jesus Christ, who died on the cross shedding His blood for our sins.

What more need we know to understand that God loves us, no matter who we are, where we came from, what kind of house we live in, and no matter the flaws we carry with us.

God is love.  And nothing can separate us from it, as written in Romans 8:39.

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Linking up with Jennifer today:

A Tribute to Daddy

Daddy . . . the very sound of the word fills my heart with joy.  That's what you brought into my life.

A quiet man, not given to many words, I knew you loved me.  Your ways were many:

• in the way you wrapped your arms around me;

• the way you taught me how to ride my tricycle and then a bicycle;

• the trial run of paper dolls your company was printing -- you brought them home to me;

• colored vinyl 45s that you were printing labels for -- you brought home the giveaways;

• nights algebra homework made no sense to me -- you sat down and helped me;

• on the nights bad dreams haunted my sleep world -- you let me crawl into your bed, sending mama to my bed to sleep;

• when things didn't go right, you were there to comfort me and help me work out my problems;

• you taught me to be a Godly person in the way you lived your own life;

• you taught me to work hard by example;

• you taught me courage in the face of illness, battling one after another yourself; 

• you taught me to stand up for what I believe in by standing by my side when my life went sour in my first marriage;

• you gave me the love of books (your printer's ink runs in my veins);

• you gave me the love of music -- I'll never forget lying belly flat on the living room rug in front of the Stromberg-Carlson phonograph listening to records with you;

My Dad
(1901-1973)
Oh, how I miss you!

• you provided for us as no other daddy could in spite of your poor health, never missing a day's work no matter how bad you felt.

My list could go on, but these are the highest on my list of cherished memories of you, Daddy.  And no matter how long I live or how old I grow, you'll always be Daddy to me.

My heart thrills to the thought that God brought you and Mama together for a reason.

Remember, the two of you once told me that you agreed to not have any children because you each had children from previous marriages?  Looks like neither of you remembered to keep that part of your marriage commitment -- I was born a mere 10 months after you and Mama married!  I'm so glad God decided we all belonged together.

To you, Daddy, thanks for giving me life, for helping me become the person I am today, and for loving me.  Those are the greatest gifts a Daddy could give a child.

Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children
who learn proper behavior from their parents.
Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him
and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us.
His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order
to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us.
Love like that.

Ephesians 5:1-2 (MSG)

Sadness Reignites Love

For several months, husband and I have been giving respite assistance to family members.  If you've ever been faced with the slow deterioration of a family member, you know this bears heavy on your heart.

In the midst of this time, we seem to have moved apart.  Probably to deal with our individual emotional responses.  Maybe because sometimes we don't know what to say to each other.

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Today I decided it was time to turn that sadness back into love.  The first thing I did was declare today "love each other day."  This was primarily for me, the one that sometimes can say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Then we we headed into Trader Joe's and I reached over and took Bob's hand.  A gentleman walking out of the store looked at us and smiled.  I hope he wasn't thinking we were too old to be holding hands!

It felt good.  Felt young again.  Reminiscent of those first days of knowing you'd found your soul mate.

And then silently in my heart, I prayed to God that he would give me the strength and courage to support my husband.  Losing his brother, as if someone is erasing away the core of that brother and leaving only a shell.  Must be hard.  I asked God to help me control my tongue and not to talk too much about all the wrong things.

This man I love is hurting and I want to help him see that we can reignite that sadness into love.  By thinking on the goodness his brother shared with others, all the children who loved him as their teacher and principal, the music he shared, the poetry he loved, the piece of him he gave to each of us.

Turning sadness into love.  Look at the sadness that must have gathered around the cross.  Then think on the love for us that was exhibited in the midst of that same sadness.  We can follow that example -- and we can get past this difficult time.  But we must love each other first.

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient,
bearing with one another in love.

Ephesians 4:2 (NIV)

Sandwich Kid, Part V

As we've been spending so much time with the situations arising among my husband's siblings lately, I've been thinking about my own family so much more.  Then I remembered I'd not finished my little series on being the middle child.

I cannot leave it unfinished because the "best" is yet to come!  (Writer pauses here for lots of laughter within.)  Click on each number here to read Parts 1, 2, 3 and 4.

You've heard the phrase, "save the best for last," haven't you?  I think that's what my parents thought when younger brother, Brad, came along.  My assessment is highly prejudiced, however, so I ask him and my readers to take this post with a grain of salt.  You'll see why in a minute.

L-R:  Me, Mom, and Brad (one month)

Brad was born when I was eight years old.  My older brother had married when I was six.  I had enjoyed two years of bliss with my status as the only child.  Now, it was gone in a flash!

There was crying, wailing, little sleeping with this unhappy, colicky little one in the house.  Later, the pediatrician determined his discomforts were all caused by enlarged tonsils and adenoids which couldn't come out until he was six!  Sounded like an eternity to me.

Finally, he began to grow into what I thought was a human being.  I learned quickly that toddlers can move rapidly through your things.  Things would go missing from my room.  I'd find them in the strangest places -- bathrooms, behind the sofa, under the dining table, inside cupboards.

The worst was yet to come -- he kept growing and growing and growing.  Pretty soon he was in school and friends the same size and age were invading the house.  By this time, I'm in my teens and don't want them around.  According to my parents, the playmates were good for Brad so they would stay.

Then he became a teenager interested in all things automotive, both under and over the hood.  Fortunately, he wasn't yet old enough to drive, but he wanted car magazines and books.  Always with the borrowing of money!  How was a non-working individual going to pay me back?  He didn't!

Despite my best efforts as his big sister to get him in trouble and keep him in hot water with Mom, Brad always managed to find his way out of trouble.  Many nights were spent in my bedroom with the door closed with him sharing with me what he'd been doing that night, and his daring me to tell Mom.  He knew I'd tattled on him many times and he was very cautious as he grew older to make sure I kept my mouth shut.  Now I've figured out I could have charged him for my secrecy.

I could tell you more but I don't want to bore you.  However, Brad grew into a very responsible and successful man married with a lovely family.  He's now enjoying being a grandpa and looking forward to another on the way.

Writer's Disclaimer:  Despite what I've written about our time growing up, separated by years on both sides of me, I love my brothers very much.  Currently, we are 80, 66 and 57, and not only are we separated by years, we are separated by 2,000 plus miles.

Recent events in my husband's family have made me aware just how precious life and family are with respect to who we are and who we become in this ever-evolving thing we call life.  I have taken much for granted over the years, including my brothers.  I hear God calling me to change that attitude into one of being more constant about contact with them and letting them know I care for and love them.

Q4U:  What about you do you have some family or even friends with whom you've grown distant?  Why not think about drawing a little closer in the coming weeks?  It only takes a little effort on our part -- that's all it costs!

Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn
proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you.
Keep company with him and learn a life of love.
Observe how Christ loved us.
His love was not cautious but extravagant.
He didn't love in order to
get something from us but to give everything of himself to us.
Love like that.  

~~ Ephesians 5:1-2

With Joan today at The Grace Cafe

Always There

You’re Always There for Me

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 When the world comes crashing in
And chaos rules my mind,
I turn my heart to you, Lord,
And pure, sweet peace I find.  

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You lift me out of trouble
You comfort me in pain;
You nourish, heal and cleanse me,
Like cool, refreshing rain.  

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In times of joy and bliss,
When things are going right,
You lift me even higher,
And fill me with delight.  

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You listen to my prayers;
You hear my every plea;
I’m safe because I know
You’re always there for me.  By Joanna Fuchs  

May your unfailing love be my comfort,
according to Your promise to your servant.~~ Psalm 119:76 (NIV)

   

That's Just How Mamas Are

Sharing this lovely Mother's Day sentiment from today's blog post at . . . and Spiritually Speaking.

Bet you  have similar memories.  Won't you share them in a comment below?

Remembering Mama's Gift

Today I'm joining with other women to honor my mom through the 1000 Moms Project.  

The 1000 Moms Project is about 1000 people standing up and thanking their mom publicly (what mom doesn’t want a gift like this for Mother’s Day?)  – and the act of honoring your mothers will be matched by funding a Maternity/Child Survival Program in Haiti for a whole year.

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Now to my story and my thanks to mom.

As I've shared portions of my memoir writing with you, my focus has been on the difficulties of living with an emotionally and verbally abusive parent, my mom.  She's seen here walking in downtown Nashville carrying me in her arms.  You can see by the expression on her face that she's a determined woman (she's on the right of the photo).

Late in Mom's life, I learned a great deal about her childhood.  This wasn't learned from her but through conversations with a friend as we talked about the why of Mom's treatment of her children.  Eventually, I moved Mom to Oregon to care for her in the last 10 months of her life.

During that time, I was able to forgive her and understand why my memories from early childhood to age 57 were what they were.

But what I want to share with you today is that despite those difficulties, every day in Mom's life reflected her strong, unwavering faith in God.  Mom left each of us, my two brothers and me, with no questions in our hearts or minds about her beliefs or her faith walk.  Her Bible was always visible, her daily devotions always open to the current date, her participation in her church and volunteerism in her community always active.  

One curious thing we learned as adults was the level to which her volunteerism went.  When we were notified that Mom had been selected as one of the ten finalists for the Volunteer of the Year Award for the State of Tennessee, we were stunned!  The article and notification cited 40 plus years of volunteering.  When did she do this?  Where did she do this?  Why didn't we know?  Rooted in her faith was the essence of humility when giving back and ministering to others.  We were taught not to brag about what we did, and so she set that example.

Here's a more recent photo of Mom with my nephew, Kevin, at the awards luncheon.  Although Mom didn't win top prize, she was honored to have been included and enjoyed this particular day to the ultimate.  

Mom died October 3, 2001.  At that time, I wasn't totally aware of the impact of her gifts of goodness.  That too will be shared in my memoir but today I come here to just say, 

 Thanks, Mom, for all you shared about your faith.  I've been made stronger because of your example.

Linking up with Ann and others at A Holy Experience,

and with the Sisterhood at

 

and with

Spread the Love!

This is a repost from February 21, 2012, really not that long ago.  However, this was a post I had such fun writing and when I re-read it today in anticipation of being away for a few days, there was a strong pull to share it with you again.  Enjoy!

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Spread love everywhere you go.
Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.

~~ Mother Teresa

Starbucks isn't my usual coffee hangout.  The fact that my husband owns a commercial grade grinder and makes really good coffee keeps me happy and well served right at home.  BUT someone sent me a Starbucks card for my birthday, so the other day I was out and about and strolled into one of the multiple locations in my hometown and ordered my usual.

Once the barista had finished making my drink, she handed it to me in something other than the standard Starbucks cup . . . one might just say it was a "love" cup.  Printed on the cup was the image you see here.  The barista explained it was left over from Valentine's Day and they were to be used until gone.

Well, I must admit I left the coffee shop feeling a little lighter than when I'd come in.  As I read all the directions that love could take us on that coffee cup, my heart was lifted higher and higher.  How many facets there are to the action of love when it is sent in the direction of another!

How many times in one day do we send out the vibes needed to make another feel loved?  Likely not often enough to make a difference.  I've enlarged the image above so that you can read as much of the language from the cup as possible.  Most of these have a romantic hint, but if you take the time to focus on the word "love" and its many meanings, I'm sure you can list many more ways to reflect love in your daily life.

Q4U:  Do you have unique ideas about spreading love throughout your family, friends and community?  Won't you share them here?

Photo credits:

Starbucks

Glitters123

Absent Awhile

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient,

bearing with one another in love.

Ephesians 4:2 (NIV)

Dear Blog Friends,

We find ourselves travelling once again to assist our family with caregiving needs.  This will be our longest trip yet, and I'll miss being here with you.  

I have written ahead for some days, and reposted pieces on others.  We're not really sure what day we travel home, but it will be after May 1st for sure.

We carry this verse from Ephesians with us so we can not forget that decisions in this situation are not ours.  Our role is merely one of providing respite for the caregiver, and care for my husband's brother.  Decisions about his care and their situation are solely his wife's.  It is hard not to interject your own thoughts, feelings and opinions.  And I would ask for your prayers for us in this area.  

Our desire is to be humble and gentle, patient, and loving while with them.  It is not an easy task, especially for my husband whose brother is slipping away mentally and physically.

Thanks for being such good friends -- see you soon!

  

Photo credit:  FBC Hanover Youth

 Sharing with Barbie at Freshly Brewed Sunday: 

Legend of the Dogwood Tree

About this time of year, our dogwood trees begin to start their annual show.  Our trees are not hybridized trees, but naturalized as you would find them in the forest.  And that's partly because these trees were part of the original farm grounds where our home is built, at the edge of some woods. 

Ours trees look more like the ones to the right, than the full ones you might find growing free without other trees encroaching.  I don't prefer one over the other -- both are beautiful as part of God's creation.

Perhaps you have hard of the legend of the dogwood tree.  And if you have, I apologize for repeating it here.  If you haven't, I hope you'll enjoy it. 

Long before the Native Americans determined that the American dogwood was hard and therefore useful for making skewers or daggers, or smaller utilitarian tools, a culture already knew of the dogwood.  That culture looked upon creation as the natural wonders offered at the hands of the Creator.  Here began the legend of the dogwood tree identifying it with the Crucifixion.

What could be more natural as the delicately brilliant white blossoms dazzle man's vision in spring?  In medieval times, man's passion at this time of year was focused entirely on the Passion of the Lord Jesus Christ, His suffering and the redeeming act of His love.

The blossoms are four-petaled, forming a cross with two short petals and two long ones.  At the edge of each petal, you will find small holes, brown on one side and rusty on the other, reminiscent of the nails that pierced our Lord.  The center of the blossom reflects the cross He was forced to wear.

I could attempt to rewrite for you here the words of the Legend handed down through the years, but I will choose to copy it in from Tradition in Action:

"At the time of Our Lord’s Crucifixion, the dogwood used to have the size of the oak and other forest trees. Because the wood was so firm and strong and there were few trees in the Middle East that were very large, it was chosen to be the wood for the crosses used in crucifixions of criminals.

Thus, the wood of the cross that would bear Our Lord and Savior was made from the dogwood tree. To be used thus for such a cruel purpose, however, greatly distressed the tree. Sensing this, the crucified Christ said to it:

'Because of your compassion and pity for My suffering, never again shall the dogwood tree grow large enough to be used as a cross. Henceforth, you shall be slender and bent and twisted and your blossoms shall be in the form of a cross.

'On the outer edge of each petal there will be nail prints, and the center of the flower will resemble the cruel crown of thorns placed on My head, with bright red clusters once again recalling the blood I shed. Thus, all who see this will remember Me.'"

No one seems to know when the legend first appeared.  What can be gathered from this beautiful story is a reaction from people who were familiar with the Life, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ and who were deeply moved by the imprints of His love around them.  Inspiration for this legend must be a true and profound love for Christ.

  

 When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your

flesh, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins,

having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood

against us and condemned us; he has taken it away,

nailing it to the cross. And having disarmed the powers and authorities,

he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.

Colossians 2:13-15

Moving ahead to a glorious Resurrection Sunday! 

A Treasured Easter Memory

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Funny how things pop into your mind and you really don't know why.  The memory is jogged in a most unexpected way.

A few days ago we had about two inches of snow fall in Portland.  And yes, our hyacinths had bloomed early.  Only to find themselves blanketed in a cloak of white.

Several days latter torrential rains came and although the hyacinths had perked up their heads, the rain battered them right back down again.

As I thought about their battle for supremacy in their world of plants and springtime showiness, I was reminded of an Easter in my childhood when it snowed.  Not a normal occurrence in Nashville, the snow surprised us on Easter morning.

I must have been around five years old.  Just old enough to be smitten with the new dress, gloves, hat and black patent leather Mary Janes that were waiting to be donned for church.

When mama saw the snow, I heard her say to daddy, "We'll just put on one of her other Sunday dresses and an older pair of shoes.  It will be OK.  She can wear the new things next Sunday."

I'm sorry but I was having nothing to do with that.  I had new clothes, something that didn't happen often in our home, and I was going to wear them!

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It was a struggle to reach the dress mama had rehung in the closet.  With the help of my little desk chair, I managed to fetch it and the hat.  The lace-trimmed socks and gloves were back in their drawer ready to nap their way through Easter.  And those shoes -- shiny and black -- were easy enough to reach.  They sat at attention on the closet floor.

Mama was busy, so I went about dressing myself.  Oh, was she livid when she found me ready to go in my new garb!

The neighbors probably heard her screaming to me, "Take those clothes and shoes off this instant, young lady!  You're not wearing those today in the snow."

About that time, daddy appeared in the doorway.  Usually he didn't interfere with mama's mandates but this time he did.

"Let her wear the new clothes.  And to make sure nothing happens to the shoes or anything else, I'll carry Sherrey from the front door of the house to the car and at the church from the car to the entrance.  It's going to be OK."

I breathed a sigh of relief.  My hero had come to my rescue just like a princess waiting in the tower for her knight.

And daddy did just as he said -- he carried me to the car and then from the car to the church.  Not a flake of snow touched me that morning.

I hold many memories of my dad close to my heart, but this is one of my favorite, perhaps because it is associated with Easter.

After all, Easter is a time when we hopefully stop and think about the love and compassion God showed for each of us when He gave us the gift of His Son Jesus.  I've always liked to think of my Heavenly Father in the image of my own father, whose caring and love extended far beyond an Easter Sunday morning.

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Linking up with Darlene at

Why Worry?

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Why do we worry?  An age-old question to which no one has come up with a satisfactory answer.  Speculations include anxiety or fear, stress, negativity, insecurity, and any number of other issues that might bring a person to the threshold of worry.  There are indeed some good reasons perhaps to worry, among them some faced by people in our society today:  homelessness, hunger, joblessness, loss of retirement savings and others.

My mother was the consummate worrier.  She worried about things that were already past and whether she could have done something differently.  To those worries, she added those thing that had not happened yet.  And to the top of that pile, she added her worries for today.  Mama was a hand-wringer, had a quick Irish temper, and yet a faith as strong as Gibraltar.  

She would have told you that the verse above from Matthew 6:26,

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?"

was something you could take to the bank and rely on as long as the earth spun on its axis.  Yet, she continued to worry and unfortunately her worrying taught each of us three kids to worry and even some of the grandkids.

I wish I knew the answer to the question of why worry, but I don't.  I do know that God placed in my life a man who has the ability to remain positive no matter the circumstances.  We married 30 years ago, and slipping the wedding band on my finger didn't change me.

www.hearttoheartweddings.com

During the first few years of our marriage, my husband gently and softly guided me into understanding just how much energy and how much of myself I was giving away to worry.  Just like mama, I worried about yesterday, today and tomorrow, even though tomorrow was still on the horizon.  Over time, I understood that he loved me so much that he wanted to see me give myself more to God, our family and especially to him and our partnership. 

I'm so glad I believed on this verse in Matthew, and I'm so glad that more than once my husband said to me, "You know you're behaving just like your mama, don't you?"  That would do it!

Q4U:  What do you worry about, or are you able to turn things completely over to God?