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…
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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…
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Lots of times, when a story is told, readers are left wondering: what happened? This is especially true when specific or pertinent details are intentionally omitted (especially when the topic is of a more sensitive nature or where others are involved and wouldn’t be well served by the telling). But this blog entry is just a continuation of writings of the last few days — and this one’s a long entry. If I give details here (or in the last two entries), I’d ask your kindness and lack of adding insult to injury. This has been a pretty candid recounting…
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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,…
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You know I’ve written about internet addition… e-mail… group list mail addiction… AOL… Geocities… One-List… eGroups… screen addiction… information addiction… whatever could be looked up… early on: Ask Jeeves. Bling. Ask him… ask him anything. Then Yahoo, then Google… click, click, click… Bling. You’ve got mail… Bling! Click, click, click… Blogs! Bling! Facebook. Bling! Pinterest. Bling! I write what I’m learning… I share what I see, what I experience, what God is teaching me. You know; through a series of trials, disappointments and losses I was presented face to face with the reality that I was/am an internet addict. By…
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A year ago… it was cold. A year ago it was rainy and dark clouds loomed overhead when the drops weren’t falling. I thought Springtime would never come as I looked out the chilly windows. And though the willow tree had just begun to show signs of lacey spring-green leaves, it was hard to imagine the nearness of Springtime as I looked out at the leafless branches of the walnut, hazelnut, apple, pear and plum trees. Today’s much the same. But as I mull this over, I have to also give thanks and praise to the LORD who only does…
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Quilts. Old quilts meticulously stitched by great grandmothers… store bought, machine pieced quilts and ones made by different friends. I love to look at them — studying the patterns and pieces, but I didn’t know I’d come to love them in the way I have. I’ve always loved the kinship of customers and clerks in a fabric store, but I didn’t really understand the incredible and instant camaraderie that nowhere else seems to be experienced quite like what you’ll find in a quilt shoppe. The instant “sisterhood” is unique. As I walked with my friend, I began to develop a…
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I’m going to write a part of the rest of the story today. You know how Paul Harvey used to close his commentary — just before that seemingly eternal pause before he’d say (or seem to say it in the form of a question): good. day.; he’d say: And now you know… the rest of the story. Nearly 6 years ago I wrote a letter to the father who raised me… the man who married my mother, adopted me (and my brother) and two years after that, he took me down a road that would, on many levels, totally change…
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A dear friend recently wrote a letter regarding losing vision and had several thoughts regarding the danger of lacking vision, and the importance of having vision or purpose. I’ve mulled that over. And over. I empathized and I actually sort of felt sick at the thought, the tragic thought of losing vision. And then it struck me (but it wasn’t the first time) that I’ve lost vision. If you’ve never “lost vision” before, then it’s probably hard to understand how someone could go along, have a great track to run on and then suddenly lose vision. But it happens. And…