Category: Family

Autumn’s in the air…

Each morning I walk around our yard and garden to pray, to sing and to see the changes, the growth and produce each day brings.  And then each evening seems to be the time I walk around our yard and garden in much the same manner… only the mood and thoughts are different — it seems to have become a time to reflect on the changes of the day and make plans for the next.   Lately, the changes of the days almost feel like an assault to my senses as I realize that Autumn’s in the air… I can smell it, taste it, feel it.  The air is changing and another year is coming to a close.

I’ve been sincerely working at looking forward — instead of dwelling on the loss of another season.  Now, that may seem pretty morbid to state it that way — losing another season — but when I think of summer’s passing and autumn’s arrival, I’m never thrilled with the prospect.  But I should be — I should be glad — especially this year, I should be thankful and I should be hopeful: so much is ahead!  The road ahead already has markers and I really ought to be embracing the thought of the marvelous plans and opportunities ahead.  Still,  I lament the passing of the warm, breezy, soft days of summer.

Since I’ve been freeing myself from the tangled web [here, etc.], I’ve spent at least a portion of nearly every day outside — the sunnier the day, the longer I’ve spent out in it.  Summertime’s my favourite time of year here as it’s the only time of year in the Pacific Northwest where there’s a remote possibility of a very warm day — and, to me, the warmer and brighter the better!

I bought a notebook for a garden journal — should’ve done this long ago and really don’t know why I haven’t — but I got the notebook so that I could log the different things I did in the yard and garden this year — what I planted and when, what grew well and what didn’t, when trees and plants blossomed, when fruit or produce appeared… those kinds of things.  I’m leaving lots of pages between sections or categories so that I can make this sort of a perpetual journal from year to year.  I used to rely on my memory for what was planted and when maturity would happen or which bulbs were/are planted in different places and spaces.  But I can’t do that very well now and want to be more productive with my time anyway.

A recent browsing of photographs reminded me of the importance of writing things down.  The bush I thought I’d fairly recently planted has actually been in that spot, according to the photograph,  for over a dozen years now.  It seemed like only a few to me.  So, you see the need for the garden journal?

As I’ve gotten used to being outside, getting my hands dirty, growing things and watching changes, I’ve seen and been where I’d forgotten I love to see and do.  Instead of reading about what I love, instead of writing about what I love, I’ve been doing it… and every day I’m reminded of what’s most important.  The passing of another season also reminds me that I must be about the work of the day, of looking forward,  of treasuring this home and family: autumn’s in the air… the seasons are passing (snap your fingers) just like that.

Untangling the wwWeb – part two

This is “part two” of the previous post by the same name — you can read it here.  The reason I’ve entitled this and the previous post: Untangling the wwWeb is bcz it truly is a  tangling or entangling web.  Now, what I hope is understood here is that the web or internet or electronic communication is not the enemy — it’s not all bad.  In fact, I readily admit that it’s a profoundly invaluable tool.  But tools are just that: tools.  We utilize tools — and the right tools help us accomplish tasks much more efficiently than were we to not have them.  Tools misused or used in the wrong hands are actually dangerous.   We can think of the internet (or iPhones, smart phones or any other communication device) as a tool — a very useful tool if used properly.   Unplanned or unbridled internet use is dangerous and should, from here on, be evaluated as a properly or improperly used tool.

Here’s an idea for you.  Set the timer for 20 minutes right now or next time you use your computer (or iPhone or whatever).  Bing! the timer will ring and you’ll be shocked just how fast twenty minutes passes!  Now, for amplification, set the timer for that same amount of time before embarking on some task you don’t like doing.  You’ll be shocked how slowly twenty minutes passes!  That little exercise is to give you an idea just how much time you’ve  wasted spent invested online.   You can never get that time back.  Ever again.

In order to untangle from the web — and it is, in intensity and enormity, a world. wide. web. — I believe you must (in addition to answering those questions in “part one” of this post) admit you’re tangled in it (if you are) and then do some fessing up to yourself, to your husband, to your children.  Your fessing up may extend beyond your home.  Think back on days gone by… how were they really spent?  How much time did/do you really spend online? And, as with all addiction recovery, a course or a plan of action and accountability should be — read:  must be — established.   A lack of a plan is a plan to fail and disregarding accountability is a sure plan to cheat yourself.

You may clean the room, clean the space in your life that the net once fully occupied, but unless you fill that space with plans, purposes, activities and measurable accomplishments, that space will be filled with demons of a worse kind.   Those demons might be resentment, regret, shame, anger, self-pity, bitterness, pride, anxiety, frustration, woeful longing and on and on.  Those demons travel in a pack.

Get busy and stay busy.  Look well to the ways of your household and do not eat the bread of idleness.

Wherever you are, be fully there.  Whatever you’re doing, be fully doing it.  Whoever you’re talking with, be fully engaged in conversation.  It may shock you how disconnected you’ve been.  It may shock them how distracted you were and now aren’t! It may be weird for them–  and you — to be doing all the stuff you delegated (so you could be freed up to do all that important good stuff on the internet).  Watch out for personal  resentment if you’re not appreciated for all your hard work.  Determine to live joyfully in your home.  Purpose to change your tomorrows since you cannot do a single thing to change the yesterdays.  You can change — your days can change and in doing so, you’ll be investing in your tomorrows.

Set about accomplishing the things you’ve set aside… maybe neglected.  You know, the stuff you used to do before the the tangled wwWeb got you and your time all wrapped up.  As you do things, you’ll experience delightful appreciation for personal growth and accomplishment — interest and investment in your home and family once again.  You’ll be living all those pictures you’ve been dreaming about.  Try new things.  You sleep better knowing that the greater satisfaction comes in actually doing and accomplishing instead of just observing; reading about things other women seem to be doing or seeing pictures of all that all those other mothers seem to be accomplishing.  Keep in mind each day that the wise woman builds her house but the foolish plucks it down with her own hands.

In time you’ll establish a balance of best vs. good… literal vs. virtual… wise vs. foolish or not-so-wise time investment.  You’ll begin seeing or will begin doing all the things you knew deep down you wanted to do/you should be doing… but couldn’t do bcz you were all tangled up viewing a screen.  Drinking another cup of coffee.

♥ may you always be blessed.

Untangling the wwWeb

Untangling from an internet bound life is sort of like limiting coffee consumption (but worse. so much worse). You might not even know you’re addicted to caffeine until you attempt to go without it for a day — or, okay, a morning without it.  And then, if you’re addicted, you know it. You really know it.  Your pounding headache constantly reminds you.

It’s hard.  It’s actually painful — very painful — at first… and then, enduring the pain, you see a few days pass and the pain diminishes.   You may have given up or reduced your coffee consumption but the pull is always there… especially when you catch a whiff of the nearly intoxicating aroma of great coffee.

In time, you learn to drink a cup of coffee and be satisfied.  If you’ve been a long time coffee drinker — the kind that can’t live without coffee — it may take time — lots of time — before you can trust yourself to keep within a predetermined limited indulgence.

Maybe your deal’s not coffee or chocolate or any butter-sugar-flour combination food.  Maybe your deal’s just the internet… maybe, like me, you’ve found your life wrapped up in a tangled mess of lost time, neglected duties, distracted thoughts, misunderstandings and forgotten purpose.   In a way, it doesn’t really matter what had (or has) you distracted and off course — like I’ve said many times, even good things are the enemy of best things.  So if you (believe me, I’ve been there, been here, and fully understand) have found yourself all caught up in all the good things — the very good things of the internet — you may need to take a step back and ask yourself some hard questions.  Well, the questions aren’t hard at all, it’s the truth — or facing it — that’s the hard part.

I sincerely offer this baker’s dozen following questions… your answers may be helpful or insightful to you and may prompt you to consider the need re-chart your course.

1.  Have I left my first Love?
2. Am I doing the things I am responsible, gifted, supposed to be doing?
3. Am I accomplishing the goals and plans I have (or had) for my home/marriage/motherhood?
4. Would my husband be pleased with how I have spent the hours of each day/week?
5. Do I ignore that inner prompting to get busy with my responsibilities?
6. Do I make excuses for how important my computer related activities are?
7. Would I be willing to list some things that have obviously gone by the wayside bcz I’ve been distracted on the computer?
8. Have I heard negative comments about the amount of time I spend online?
9. Can I go a day without checking into Facebook, email, blogging, reading blogs or looking at Pinteresting things?
10. Do you frequently say the meaningless phrases, Just a minute or Just a sec?
11.  Do you feel you have a right to not be interrupted while using, browsing, writing, being entertained on the computer?
12. Do you prefer to miss activities, visits, etc., so you don’t have to miss being online?
13.  And finally, does a power outage send you into a frenzied panic?

All those questions weren’t meant to be glib or even entertaining — they’re serious questions to prompt serious introspection and reflection and hopefully give some inspiration for changing your tomorrows.

 

So you’re addicted. Now, what?

When the day of my turning point came, I wouldn’t have been more stunned had a wrecking ball come swinging into my kitchen window.  I’m now not so sure if it was the actual event or the combination of that and a heartrending revelation and my subsequent overwhelming grief that I’d squandered precious time — for years — reading, searching, creating, writing, researching… on the computer.  Good things… so many good things.

There is a silver lining…
Lord has opened His Word to me in many new ways.  I want to be careful not to exceed the context or intent of the Scriptures, so my ‘revelations’ or insights might not seem applicable to this situation — but numerous passages have spoken to my heart in new ways through these last two and a half years.  One, is that the Lord is not willing that any should perish.  Now, this pertains, ultimately, to salvation, but I’ve begun to see His love for life in a new way.  His love for eternal life, His love for unborn life, His love for the downtrodden, His love for obedience in life, and His purpose that we might have life and that, more abundantly.

Addictions limit abundant living.

No worries: I haven’t jumped ship here into name-it-and-claim-it-prosperity-(little g) gospel living.  But I do see that we limit God’s work in our lives when we live contrary to His plans and purposes for us. Being a preoccupied and distracted mother leads to all sorts of visible and not-so-visible troubles — but that’s not all — whatever is occupying our thoughts and time must be in accordance with God’s plan and design for our lives and things that hinder that or draw us away should rightly be called sin to us.  Yeeouch.  All the justifications, excuses and reasons for doing otherwise just deepens our problem and widens the sweeping damage done in our homes and in the lives of our family members.

Having the computer set up in the kitchen where it could be accessed and consulted at any hour, any time, for any length of time was like a drug to me — a gotta-have- it drug.  That’s why I can so easily and confidently call unguarded, unrestrained and  unmeasured internet use an addiction.

You know you’re addicted when you pray: Give us this day, our daily bread…  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us [some email]…

So, now what?

When facing and fessing up to and then turning/recovering from addiction, may I say, you’re never going to make it if you try going it alone.  The devil will meet you at every turn (or log-in).  You will make provision for the flesh.  You will justify, minimize your addiction, make excuses for your ‘work’ and need to be online.   And then you’ll remember you made a deal, your regret or shame or embarrassment may come back to your mind — but admissions will not keep you on track.  Your sorrow will not keep you on track.  Your resolve will not keep you on track.  Your best intentions will not keep you on track.  Simply deciding to be done with spending too much time on the computer will not solve your deeper problem and will not prevent you from carrying on just as you had been doing.  I think that’s why the Lord taught or gave the following warning in Matthew 12:

(43-45)  When the unclean spirit is gone out of the man, it walks through dry places, seeking rest, and finds none.  Then it says, I will return into my house from which I came out; and when it is come, it finds it empty, swept, and garnished.  Then it goes and takes with itself seven other spirits worse than itself, and they enter in and dwell there; and the last state of that man is worse than the first…”

Walls and fences for wills and fancies!

AA.  Yep, AA!  No, I’m not talking Al-Anon, I’m talking Accountability and Activity!   I have learned over the last several years — and most especially in the last two and a half — that whenever a change — a drastic change — is needed, drastic measures must be taken.  And, believe me, computer addiction is that serious.  Think of the times you’ve dieted.  You don’t leave the delectable foods on the counter, you don’t snack on candy bars, sip on rootbeer floats or munch on potato chips; No, you clear those things away and gather for yourself nourishing vegetables, fruits, lean meats and water.  Additionally, you don’t sit and wait for weight to drop off — you get moving: you get busy and exercise or go for walks.  You track your progress with a scale or measuring tape.  And, better yet, you get a partner to join you: someone to whom you are accountable.  You’ve already proven your ‘self’ is not a good accountability partner.  Sadly.

So, also with computer addition.   You make no provision for the flesh — and, believe me, while simply unplugging may seem like a good solution, it’s not a real solution.  It may stop the activity for that length of time, but it wouldn’t necessarily get to the heart of the matter.   In this, I encourage you (and myself) to begin with acknowledgement and prayer.  Face the truth, look square into the face of the matter and then set up  accountability.  This provides the place to “confess your faults one to another.” (read James 5.16)  That’s a powerful verse — the third part of it tells us that the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.   Did you catch the fervent part?  This is no small problem – computer addiction; thus there’s no casual solution.  Fervency in prayer!  You won’t be fervent in prayer until you grapple with the problem and grasp its gravity.

Here’s a net-net for you.    Make a break — a clean break — you will survive and so will the masses.

Recommit. Reconnect. Re-create. Restore.

You see?  There are many REasons for facing and tackling online addiction.  But then… you’ll never know until you stop…

Next time, something of a new track to run on.


 

Things happen; and life goes on.

I thought I’d sort of continue on from where I left off yesterday (and then life goes on).  Things happen; usually a bunch of things have to happen in order to arrest our attention – unless someone yells, Fire! or someone comes in bloody or the phone rings in the middle of the night.  Those things get out attention.

Unfortunately, there are a whole bunch of other things happening (and not happening) that don’t get out attention — at least not until some crisis happens.  Even then, we may address the interruption and move on… never seeing — really seeing — what’s going on.  Thus, the damage being done by too much computer/electronic device games or text messaging  is not so easy to see (harder to admit). Things happen, though, and we see them if we would break away long enough to listen and if we’d stop long enough to see.  Just take a look around — anywhere — everywhere — you’ll see distracted individuals all connected and disconnected at the same time.

Things happen; and life goes on.   Here’s where I hope, today, to be of some help.  When things happen that bring us to our day of reckoning, we might foolishly focus on the day of reckoning instead of on the “things happening” and we might wallow in our despair over what we think we’ve lost instead of the damage our actions (or inaction) caused.   On the first day of the greatest sorrow we’d ever faced, my husband asked me for my computer — and as I’ve written in the past (here) you know that I humbly and gladly did so.   I recall thinking: Anything! Anything at this point, I will do it. I knew.  I didn’t need to be asked twice and I didn’t need an explanation — nor did I give one.  I knew.  My days of being overly distracted by the computer had culminated in a breach of attention to my home and resulted in a deep time of sorrow, chastening and redemption.

Time and space do not allow for recounting of the marvels and miracles the Lord showed and did on my behalf and on the behalf of my family.  In the 97 days one of our daughters was away, in the near death experience of our missionary son, in the loss of friendships and in the division of our home church, God worked deeply, powerfully, tenderly, painfully and lovingly.   I cannot blame, nor do I seek to blame, anyone or anything… but this I know: what the devil intended for evil, God is working for good.

The life goes on part is this:  When we face trials and temptations, we can be assured of these very things: God is working all things together for our good and His glory and “There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.” –1Cor 10.13

The days I thought I could not bear: passed.  They passed by and underneath were the loving Arms.   They way of escape?  A humble and contrite heart seeking faithful obedience.  Period.  I don’t know how else to explain the outpouring of grace in those dark days (and these).   When we seek Him, He is faithful and just to hear our prayers — and though the consequences may continue on (and be ugly!), you can rely on this:  God is and will be at work as time goes on.  He is the restorer of the breach — He truly is!  He is the lover of our souls — He truly is!  And every son [daughter] He loves, He chastens — ouch, He truly does!

So then what?  What’s after a big fall?  I learned a valuable truth about God in the earthquake, the wind and the storm — the Lord taught me this at the time and then later during a study of 1Kings.  It’s what I most longed for — then and now — the still small voice of the LORD.  “.

And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the LORD.
And, behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire; but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.
1 Kings 19.11-12

After the fire: the still small voice — and isn’t that the sweetest .

Next: (part 3-ish) Make no provision for the flesh.

And then life goes on.

In the midst of a transition, it’s really hard sometimes to see that things are ever going to change — be any different — than they are today.  It’s hard to see past today sometimes.  Well, actually, it’s hard to see past the moment sometimes.  I’ve found this to be true so many times — and, like most things that happen to me, I learn that they are, or have been, happening to others as well.  Trouble is, most of the time, we’re too isolated (or proud) to confess where we are or what we’ve done — especially if it’s not pretty.

So I thought I’d write a chapter — it’ll actually be two — on a couple of things.  First, I’d like to share more with you about life after computer addiction and then I’ll write a bit on life after rejection.  You’ll see how they’re related — as are most things — and how after the crash or the event or the trial or the test… life goes on.  So, the thing happens: And then life goes on.

As you’ve perhaps read, a number of years ago I began to have glimpses that things weren’t right here in River City (or in my life, rather).   I was spending too much time on the computer — so much so, that I didn’t even realize it after awhile.  You can read about my computer addiction here and here and here. So addicted was I that I had moved from the wonderment phase, to the thrill of the newness phase, right on past the excitement at receiving mail, friendship and keepers-at-home-camaraderie phase, past the I want to do this phase… right on to (and past) the I need to do this phase.

Well, back to the point…  At the time of the great crash of my life that led to the sobering reality that I was an internet addict, I sincerely didn’t see how I was going to get past that time — that grueling, painful, humbling time.  But I did — though not alone and not without some personal anguish and occasional resentment.  The resentment didn’t come right away — bcz, sincerely, I knew I needed to squarely face my behaviour and decisions — I knew my husband was right — I knew my children were right and I knew I was wrong to have spent so much time reading, browsing, creating, writing, corresponding, researching.  Every now and then the resentful thoughts slipped into my mind: I ought to be able to use the computer, this is important, I’m a mother, I need to know different things… yada, yada, yada.  As you’ve heard me say many times, one of the greatest enemies of best things is good things.  Many good things.  And there are really and truly so many good things to read, see and do on the computer/internet.  But what I hadn’t filtered was the fact that *I* didn’t need to be doing all/many/most of them and I certainly didn’t need to use the precious time I had in the way I was using it.  I know that, now.

One of the greatest things — among many — that I’ve learned is that God is the God of now — He deals with us where we are and leads us where He wants us to go if (and that’s a big if) we will yield ourselves to Him and He isn’t caught up in the feelings of a matter or the fears of a matter.  He seeks my life, He draws me to Himself and He carries me through.  And along the way He shows Himself strong on my behalf.  The minutes of obedience become hours and the hours become days and the days become weeks and so on.  Do you see what I mean?  God’s concern for me is eternal and His plans are eternal but He lovingly guides my footsteps and as I yield to Him, taking His Hand to trust in His guidance, He does make a way for me to pass through.  So when I thought I’d never make it or when I thought I’d never live through those days, He proved Himself strong on my behalf.  He demonstrated His love by the presence of His Holy Spirit.

Now, that’s not to say that the year was smooth sailing — I missed a lot of cues and bumbled my way through.  And, as I mentioned, my thoughts weren’t always what they should’ve been.  But, deep down, I knew at the time — and I know it much better now — God was clearly in control.   Eventually, a year passed by and now another year has passed and, to my deepest regret, I am beginning to get a glimpse of the high price I was willing to pay to be online.   And now it’s not so much how am I going to get through this? as much as it is, Lord help me never again waste the time, resources and gifts You’ve given me. Life after computer addiction is sweeter — sweeter bcz the squeeze out was so hard and the price so precious.  The lessons I’ve learned I immeasurably valuable to me and I pray to use what I’ve learned to inspire others to measure the time and price being paid to be online without strict barriers. 

When a mother’s face is to the screen, her back is to her home and children, and then life goes on.

Savouring the Moments

The symphony of birds, buds and blossoms along with the soft greens seem to sing, Springtime’s here; another season’s underway!  With the passing of time, the Lord is teaching me to savour the moments, to watch for the signs of the seasons.  I can’t really recall if , or what, I’ve written much about the passage of a season that taught me this, but it was the slow dawning of the reality that the childbearing season was slipping away that first began to teach me to savour the moments.

I think I’ve told you how (early on) women–mothers–would tell me, “…it goes so fast: before you know it, they’ll be all grown up…” and to those comments I would nod in agreement… as if I understood.  And, I suppose, to a small degree, I did.  Actually, truth be told, I didn’t.  Not really.  And, further, I recognize that I still don’t really know the whole of it.  But what I am realizing this:  time really does seem to pass exponentially faster with each passing year.

On Saturday morning I received a text message on my cellphone.  Three simple words.  Tears filled my eyes as I read and reread those three little words.  Those three little words were packed with such hope and elated joy.  I pictured the smiling face of the one who sent me the text.  I pictured the thrill that must’ve gone into the typing of the three little words.  I closed my phone — savouring the moment and what the three little words would become.  The text read:  She said yes.

Several of us received the same text.  We knew this by the flood of texts that followed.  It’s just what happens in a big family, I guess.

As I savoured the moment, I was grinning with tear-filled eyes.  Standing there, looking out the window above the kitchen sink, I was thinking about that son’s little boy self and how he ran and played out in the yard, roller skated down the lane, did ‘canon-balls’ in the pool, shot things with his airsoft gun and found things to light on fire in the back yard.  As I lingered, I thought of the several years he’s loved this girl… I thought of the many times she’s stood right in the same place, washing dishes or having a cup of coffee or tea in the kitchen.  I thought of her little girl self… her adorable little girl self.  And then, her parents came to mind and suddenly it wasn’t just our boy and bright hopes for tomorrow — it was their daughter and all the memories of her little girl self and times gone by in her life and theirs… many savoured moments, I’m very sure.

Later, walking around our yard and then standing under the lacy green leaves hanging from the giant weeping willow tree, I looked up to see where the branch had broken off — the branch that had, until just recently, held the old tire-swing.  I knew one day that that branch would break and the tire-swing would inevitably have to be put away or maybe even possibly would be hung on from different branch… I just never thought it would be this soon.  I looked at the branch on the ground and the place where the rope had been nearly completely encircled by the bark of the branch where it had hung for so many decades — the process unnoticed, but further embedded with each passing season.  In the theater of my mind, I saw some of the childhood faces of the many, many seasons of the tire swinging from that tree.  Savoured moments.  More so, now.

The interesting thing about savoured moments is that at the time the moments don’t seem all the glorious.  I sometimes think that savoured moments become so — not because of their impact or influence at the time, but later.  Silly things, embarrassing things, surprising things,  simple things, everyday things.  Later on… down the road a bit… that’s when moments become meaningful and it’s those meaningful moments we savour.  Those simple, everyday, unremarkable (at the time) moments that somehow capture our hearts and become the stuff memories are made of — the moments we treasure — the moments we savour.

In the last couple of days I’ve had more time to reflect on those three little words… I’ve thought of the inevitable hardships, trials, heartaches ans sorrows they’ll necessarily face.   I’ve thought of the memories they’ll make, the home they’ll make together — the joys and laughter they’ll experience and the hopes and dreams they’ll share; and I marveled at the thought of the surprising ways of God they’ll surely encounter as He writes their story.  And so for all these things, I can only say, Praise the LORD and pray they’ll savour the moments that come with the passing seasons along the way.

 

Opportunities Come and Go

I mull over this phrase from time to time as I consider the many opportunities I’ve had, the many opportunities I’ve botched and the many opportunities I’ve either missed or passed up through the years.  The missed and passed up opportunities have probably hounded me as much or more than the opportunities I’ve botched.  Usually, but not always, I’ve had or take a second opportunity to repair or at least attempt to make up for that botched opportunity and usually (but not always) things have turned out okay.  But still, it’s those occasions I missed or passed up — those opportunities are the ones I most regret.  It’s probably bcz I’ll never know what could have come out of what should have been.  But then… even as I share this I know this flies in the face of my strongly held belief that God is, indeed, sovereign.   It is in these times I could be labeled a Calarminian. :-S  I know God is sovereign and what will be will be — it’s just that I can’t ever seem to be fully reconciled to that fact in the face of missed or rejected passed up opportunities.

For example:  I may botch up talking with someone about the Lord — I may get all intense or neglect to be succinct or whatever and come away feeling like I really messed up that opportunity to share the gospel, to draw someone into conversation and prayerfully into the kingdom.  But then I must consider that faith is of the Lord, and that person’s redemption is of the Lord — though He does use cracked pots to pour out His message of salvation and redemption.

My missed opportunities or passed up opportunities have been those times, though I may not have recognized it at the time,  when I clearly had the grace of God to do this or that thing and I frittered away the time or I didn’t make a call or I made the wrong call or I thought my way of handling a situation would suffice or whatever… and an opportunity to do good, to help, to encourage, to correct, to confess an offense or whatever was missed or lost.

I can’t go back and recreate those opportunities — but I can seek to correct losses and offenses and as I do so, I must leave the results to the Lord and then I can use those missed or passed up opportunities to prompt me the next time such an opportunity arises, presents itself or even seems to be present.  God is mercifully helping me through the years in His loving kindness,  all my missteps, my failings, miscommunications, misunderstandings, resentment, fears, regrets, losses, etc., etc., to watch — really watch — for opportunities and seek to not miss them.  All these problems, especially in the last couple of years,  have surely taught me that opportunities come and go — good ones and difficult ones, and it’s really imperative to daily be in the Word, to daily be in prayer, to keep short accounts and, perhaps above all, to seek God’s will and direction for each of the opportunities He brings my way.

This phrase continually comes to mind: “God does not call the equipped, He equips the called.”  So, that being understood, as responsibilities go,  I know that mine is to watch and receive, His is to present and provide, mine is to obey, His is to guide, mine is to be willing , His is to be filling, mine is to be poured out, His is to be glorified.

Opportunities come and go… O, that I would be found faithful in them.

Daffodils… an encouraging story

A Story to bless you today:

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, “Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over.”  I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead “I will come next Tuesday”, I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.
Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.
“Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!”
My daughter smiled calmly and said, “We drive in this all the time, Mother.”  “Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears, and then I’m heading for home!” I assured her.
“But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks,” Carolyn said. “I’ll drive. I’m used to this.”
“Carolyn,” I said sternly, “please turn around.” “It’s all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.”
After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with an arrow that read, “Daffodil Garden.”  We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, and saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

“Who did this?” I asked Carolyn.  “Just one woman,” Carolyn answered. “She lives on the property. That’s her home.” Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster. “Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking”, was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. “50,000 bulbs,” it read. The second answer was, “One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain.” The third answer was, “Began in 1958.”

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration.

That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time–often just one baby-step at time–and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world …

“It makes me sad in a way,” I admitted to Carolyn. “What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time’ through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!”

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. “Start tomorrow,” she said.
She was right. It’s so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays.  The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask,
“How can I put this to use today?”

Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting…..
Until your car or home is paid off
Until you get a new car or home
Until your kids leave the house
Until you go back to school
Until you finish school
Until you clean the house
Until you organize the garage
Until you clean off your desk
Until you lose 10 lbs.
Until you gain 10 lbs.
Until you get married
Until you get a divorce
Until you have kids
Until the kids go to school
Until you retire
Until summer
Until spring
Until winter
Until fall
Until you die…

There is no better time than right now to be happy.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

So work like you don’t need money.

Love like you’ve never been hurt, and

Dance like no one’s watching.


Wishing you a beautiful, daffodil day!

Don’t be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

another birthday…

 

Another birthday for one of our children.  Another day to reflect on the many blessings, provisions and calling of the Lord on this son’s life — the golden child, the brothers and sisters call him.   We all have a smile when someone says this or refers to him in this manner.  They all know they are — each one to me — a golden child, though they’d insist he is the golden child.  ~smile~

So another year, another birthday… another celebration that doesn’t look like one here tonight.  We’ll make up for it when he returns from Africa in a couple of months — but for now, we have had a day of reflection, stories and melancholy, misty eyes.  Well, maybe that was just me with the misty eyes most all day today.  It’s not that I want him to stay around here — I really don’t — but he’s such a delightful person… just missing him especially much today as I’ve been reflecting on the many things that have been particular to him.  I think back on his love for anything-pooh-bear to his love for a favourite blanket and the shiny blond hair of his younger years.  In those days his hair was cut much longer than he’d ever wear it today — in a “bowl cut” — the same style of haircut I gave to each of the other boys before and after him in their younger years.  Two brothers older and four younger than him.  Funny to hear them talk now of how they all loved their hair that way — what they don’t know is that it was the only cut for young boys I knew how to do very well.  I glanced at a pooh bear today…  stopping for a moment to remember… and smiled.

One of the wonderful advantages of the passage of time is that we accumulate many stories and  happy memories — these both bless us and bring us tears when a day such as this comes along.  And while we all miss him for as many different reasons as there’ve been minutes in this day, we’re blessed by the knowledge that he’s right where he ought to be.  And somehow, that makes everything perfect.  Just as a cake & ice cream would be the perfect thing to serve were he to be here at home tonight.

I’ve been reflecting on God’s tender preparations for me for these years — and in different ways, He’s actually prepared all of us for these days.  Showing Himself strong on our behalf, He’s orchestrated quite a mixture of joys and sorrows — gains and losses — working everything together for our good and His glory.  I see this more and more clearly as the years pass.

So, Timothy’s in Africa… adding another birthday to the number of birthdays he’s spent away from home.  I’ll get used to this — perhaps, in a way, I already am.  I think of the years he’s been in Mexico or in Africa and each time I recall, as I’ve done today, that there’s really no place I’d rather have him be.  In the hand of the Lord, anywhere in the world, is the safest and best place to be.   He’s there ministering to the saints, visiting different remote villages and participating in ministering and teaching in Bible seminars.  The opportunities have been a great source of joy and blessing to him as he spends time with old friends and new.  So you see how I could not wish for him to be here and miss all that.

Once again my heart is filled with thanksgiving — knowing I don’t deserve the great honour and privilege of all these years of motherhood.   My thoughts linger here tonight… thankful for  a son who’s in the gracious and merciful hand of the Lord.  God’s been so very kind to Timothy.

May you always be blessed. ♥