Where I am From

Over 4 years ago now, I posted this about my self, entitled, "Where I am From." Somewhere, someone had a a list to follow that would guide you in writing your own "history" in a very unique way. The past few days, I was thinking about this, and wouldn't you know. Ann VosKamp wrote hers and posted it today on her blog. So I thought I would repost mine here:

I am from books, from old sappy novels like Elsie Dinsmore that make you cry, and from soft, heart-searching music.

I am from the old style home with big, wide staircases, wrap around porches, railings and slate sidewalks.

I am from the forsythias, the pussy willows and lilacs.

I am from Sintra Klas and oli bollens, and singing hymns around the piano, from Anthonie and Aleida, and Sterenborgs and Eelmans.

I am from the weather watchers, the campers, the nurses, and the typists, the oil burner repairmen, the bakers and the cooks. I am from sea captains and fine keepers of the home.

I am from being afraid of what was hiding in dark closets. I am from staying away from old men in the park, not accepting candy from "bums" and not accepting rides from strangers.

I am from jumpropes and double-dutch, hopscotch and handmade beanbags, swings and seesaws, sandboxes and tricycles.

I am from knowing God loves me, died for me, and that I will be with Him, my Mom and Dad someday. I am from being forgiven, loved. I am from a God of second chances.

I'm from New Jersey, Holland - Texel and Amsterdam, boterkoek and chocolate chip cookies.

I am from the Dad who turned over outhouses as a child, pushed the peddles on the old Dutch pipe organ for his blind uncle as he played. I am from the dad who delivered coal, fixed oil burners, and fixed my bike. I am from the Mother who could knit, crochet, tat and sew anything without a pattern or a chart, and the stepmom who gave every ounce of her being to make my father happy.

I am old stuff, like linens and handmade quilts. I am old kitchen utensils, buttermolds, and rolling pins. I am old hymbooks, old recipes, old lace, and old pictures.

I am from my heart, my soul, my feelings, my prayers. I am from words that need to be written, hugs that need to be given, prayers that need to be prayed and tears that need to be shed.

I am from the Poet's Heart and I love to write and His Songs!

Dark Spots ----- BOZO??????

Yikes!!!!! I woke up this morning, stumbled into the bathroom, and even in the dim, morning light, there it was ------ MY NOSE. I could see it plain as day in the mirror ---- darker than ever. Yep! Looks like it's there to stay. I feel like Bozo the clown. I thought that maybe, just maybe, it was
a temporary thing, as it seemed to be a little lessened the past few days. There is only one possibility: I had quit taking the Niaspan (for high cholesterol), as the flushing and the burning sensation were getting too much for me. It's like a hot flash on steroids ---- like a thousand bee bites on a bad sunburn -- in otherwords, unbearable. For about 4 or 5 days, I didn't take it. Last night, I took it again, and woke up with the now infamous brown nose. Can that possibly be?????? Anyways, I'm on a search for a cure. I wonder, how many lemons does it take to fix a brown nose????? I will try all of these "remedies" listed below and let you know. If none work, I guess I'll join the circus!

Brown Spots on Face Natural Remedies

Brown spots on your face, also known as age spots or liver spots, occur most frequently in older skin, and usually as a result of years of sun exposure. According to the University of Maryland Medical Center, these brown spots appear most commonly in adults over the age of 40, although they may effect individuals of any age if they spend enough time in the sun.

True age spots are considered harmless and do not require medical treatment. They can be lightened with over-the-counter and natural remedies to the point of being almost unnoticeable, although this can take weeks or even months to accomplish. If you’re determined, however, you can remove brown spots on your face over time using the tried-and-true methods described below.

Always consult a doctor if you have an irregular brown spot that appears to change shape, as this may be a sign of skin cancer. It’s a good idea to talk to your physician anytime you notice an abnormality in your skin, especially if you’ve spent a great deal of time in the sun, just to rule out cancer. Once you’re sure that you have nothing more than typical liver spots, then you can begin using home remedies for brown spots on your face.

Lemon Juice


Lemon juice gently bleaches brown spots on your face and hands.
Fresh lemon juice contains mild acids strong enough to slough away the top layer of dead skin and lighten brown spots on your face. For the best results, dab the juice of a fresh lemon directly onto brown spots once or twice a day for as long as necessary.

Honey and Yogurt

Combined, honey and yogurt create a mild, natural bleach that can lighten brown age spots on your face. As an added bonus, the mixture also softens the skin and improves complexion. Try mixing 1 tsp. plain, raw yogurt with 1 tsp. pure honey. Apply directly to the affected areas, allow the mixture to dry completely (about 30 minutes), and then rinse with tepid water. Repeat daily as needed.

Aloe Vera Gel

Gel from the aloe vera plant contains chemicals that slough away dead skin cells and encourage the growth of new, healthy cells, which in turn lightens age spots. Apply aloe vera gel directly to your brown spots once or twice a day until you achieve the desired results. The Reader’s Digest Association recommends using fresh aloe gel straight from the living plant. If you don’t have access to a living aloe plant, you can purchase aloe gel at your local drug store or natural health store, but make sure it doesn’t contain any additives. You want only 100 percent pure aloe gel.

Buttermilk


Buttermilk contains lactic acid that helps fade brown spots.
An old folk remedy for brown spots and skin discoloration, buttermilk contains lactic acid that gently exfoliates sun-damaged skin and pigmented areas. The substance eventually lightens brown spots on your face until they are barely detectable. Dab buttermilk directly onto brown spots, allow it to dry, and rinse with tepid water. Repeat once or twice daily as needed for the best results.

Red Onion

Another common folk remedy for getting rid of brown spots on the face and body is red onion. Rubbing acidic red onion juice directly onto spots once or twice a day is believed to gradually fade the discoloration over time. This remedy doesn’t smell great, but it will work if you don’t mind the lingering scent of onions.

Onion and Vinegar

In her book “More Chicken Soup & Other Folk Remedies,” Joan and Lydia Wilen recommend combining onion juice with vinegar for an effective way to get rid of brown spots. Grate an onion and squeeze it through a piece of cheesecloth until you have about 1 tsp. of onion juice. Combine the juice with 2 tsp. white distilled vinegar, and massage into brown spots twice daily until no longer necessary. Again, this remedy smells awful, but according to many women, it works wonders.

Chickpeas


Chickpeas can help get rid of brown spots on your face.
An Israeli remedy for brown spots on the face requires the use of chickpeas, also known as garbanzo beans (the ones you use to make hummus). You can buy them canned very inexpensively in your local supermarket, or prepare them from scratch. Mash about 1/3 cup of cooked or canned chickpeas with a fork or potato masher, add a bit of water to get a paste-like consistency, and then spread over brown spots. Leave on until the peas begin to dry and crumble, and then rinse away with warm water. Repeat once every night until age spots are gone.

Papaya

Green papaya is rich in a protein-digesting enzyme known as papain that dissolves old, dead skin cells without harming new, young cells. The papain is most concentrated when the fruit is still green, and according to folk medicine, it works wonders for reducing liver spots. Place the fleshy, latex side of the papaya over the discolored areas, and allow it to remain for 20 or 30 minutes once or twice daily. Repeat as necessary until your age spots are gone.

Aromatherapy

Lemon essential oil and benzoin essential oils both have bleaching properties that can help get rid of brown spots on your face, according to Bill Gottlieb in his book Alternative Cures. Gottlieb recommends combining 1 to 2 drops of either of the oils with a vegetable carrier oil such as almond, and then applying to the affected areas twice daily as needed.

Homemade Skin Lightener for Brown Spots

Stephanie Tourles, natural beauty expert and author of Herbal Remedies for a Lifetime of Healthy Skin, recommends making your own lemon cream skin lightener to get rid of brown spots on your face, hands, arms, or anywhere else they appear. The lemon juice acts as an alpha-hydroxy acid and natural bleach, while the cucumber is cooling, and the yogurt’s lactic acid also gently bleaches.

Ingredients:

2 tbsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 small potato, peeled
1/2 small cucumber
1 tbsp. plain, raw yogurt (organic if possible, and with live cultures)
Blender or food processor
Towels
Light moisturizer, optional
Directions:

Blend all ingredients until smooth in a small blender or food processor for a few minutes, until a smooth, spreadable paste is formed.
Store in the refrigerator for up to 24 hours in a covered container, if necessary, although the mixture works best when used just after blending.
To use, pull your hair off of your face and neck, and lie down with a towel under your head to catch drips. This process can get a little messy.
Apply the mixture to your face, and cover with a hot, damp towel. To make breathing easier, use two towels – one for the top of your face and one for the chin and neck – leaving your mouth and nose uncovered.
Leave on for 15 to 20 minutes, rinse, and follow with a light moisturizer if desired. Repeat two or three times a week until the brown spots on your face subside.
Your skin may begin to tingle during the treatment, and this is normal. It’s just a sign that the ingredients are doing their job. Do not use this treatment on sunburned, inflamed or sensitive skin.

Joy Dare Gratitudes on Monday

I feel like I'm on a really great scavanger hunt!!! Beginning in January, Ann's community of those counting their 1,000 gifts were invited to begin the "Joy Dare." At the beginning of each month, Ann gives a list of prompts, so to speak, of 3 specific things to look for each day --- specific gifts we can be thankful for. It's been so great to do this, but some days have been hard. But here we go:

1. 3 gifts at 3pm: 4 chicken thighs waiting for a decision on how they will be cooked for dinner.

A WW coffee latte frozen popcicle

Sunshine, a gentle breeze, and 83 degree weather

2. 3 gifts green: Oak leaves, all new, little and light green, all popping out in the sunny, warm weather of Florida.

The convenient green dumpster I share with 4 other families, making clean-up, trash removal, so much easier here in the country. Something I don’t think about, but always there.

Fresh spinach salad with it’s dark green, tender leaves, well dressed with bits of bacon, sliced hard boiled egg, cherry tomatoes and honey mustard dressing.

3. 3 gifts wore -- My necklace, a breast cancer momento, with the engraved words, “By Grace Alone.”

Memories of an incredible journey through chemo, surgery, and radiation. Scars of a mastectomy, a faint line of stitches, skin tinted tan by radiation.

Hair! Never thought of it as a gift until it was ALL gone --- smooth as a baby’s bottom.

4. 3 gifts hard to give thanks for: dieting! I'm always at odds with it. Always feeling deprived. Always wanting more. But, oh, so thankful for a diet that works, thankful for slow, but steady success, thankful for the willpower to get up and start again when I've fallen.

My vacuum cleaner. I HATE that thing! I HATE using it. We fight. And Buster has caught on that it's not a good thing. It makes me crabby. It gets clogged (my own fault because I don't use it enough!). But I'm so thankful I have it. What would I ever do without it???????

Brown spot on my nose. Yep! I'm having trouble with this one. At first, it looked like a shadow, that maybe my lighting was not right. But on second look, with scrunched up face and twisted neck, there it was ---- I'm now an official brown noser!!!! Reasons??? Perhaps "radiation scatter." Or just "old age spots." Either way, there it is. I feel like Ponochio. I've tried toothpaste (hey, it's supposed to whiten, isn't it????) Anyways, it's been something to laugh about as it seems to humor everyone and tickle funny bones. I think it's God's humorous way of keeping me humble. So I say thank you and sigh!!!!

5. 3 gifts found: Mercy! To live this long, to have made this many mistakes, to have been this stubborn and rebellious, and He has still shown me His mercy and a depth of love I will never comprehend! A thousand thank-you's on this one.

Grace! Were it not for grace, where would I be? On thousand roads to nowhere with salvation up to me! Man, I love that song. I think it's my all time favorite as it just describes ME! Another thousand thank-you's!!!!

A new talent in a friend. To watch him lead the worship service last night made me feel like a proud momma. And the gift is even more precious knowing the pits from which he was raised. Thank you, Lord, for Marty!!!

A New Beginning

A new year and a new start. Nothing better than a clean slate where we can begin again!!!! So sorry I’ve been missing in action for a while. I wasn’t feeling that well, and with all the doctor visits, tests, etc., I felt I lost my momentum with writing, thinking, commenting, etc. I’ve missed being here and visiting my favorite
Bloggy places. I’ll be catching up just as soon as I can.

The few places I have been have intrigued me with goals, resolutions, thoughts, and even chosen words for the coming year. It made me stop and think --- to think back over the past year and where it brought me from, and to think of where the road in front of me is heading. My first thought on New Year’s Day was a line in a song I love so much --- “Whatever my lot, it is well with my soul!” I’m a whiner at times. A complainer. A worrier. All of these seem to be strikes against what I call a strong faith and confidence in a God that I say I trust with my life and soul. Can I HONESTLY say in the darkest of times that “it is well with my soul?” I want to make that my goal for this coming year -- to grow into that kind of steadfast faith!

Which brings me to the thing about a “word” for this year. I’m so intrigued by that! I’m so wordy, and to boil something down into one word is almost impossible for me. But the word “STEADFAST” has been slamming me up against the wall for a while now. I don’t think I waver much in my faith, but I DO waver in my walk. Even as I typed that, I thought, if my walk isn’t right, isn’t that the evidence of my faith?????
I want to follow God’s words to Jeremiah : Thus says the LORD, "Stand by the ways and see and ask for the ancient paths, Where the good way is, and walk in it; And you will find rest for your souls. (Jer. 6:16)

The word, “steadfast” appears numerous times in Scripture, and has its roots in Greek where the roads were made of clay. As the chariots would go up and down these roads, ruts were formed, similar to the ruts of old country roads and driveways. The smoothest and safest way to travel these roads was to keep the wheels in the ruts. To remain steadfast would mean for us to stay in the ruts that have been formed by those who have gone before us, the good way, the ancient paths.

Years ago, I lived in the farm country of Virginia. The house sat on a hill, a ways off the main road. It was an old 1800’s home, and the driveway leading to this house was as old as the old farmhouse. The ruts had been dug out over the decades to where the fencing now stood higher than the roof of the car. And we all knew that the safest way to ride that driveway was to stay in the ruts!

I want to be known as a “steadfast” person --- someone who doesn’t quit, swerve, back up, or try new and questionable ways. And if I only move one step forward this whole year, I will have considered it a profitable and successful year.

Skaree Stuf (Gest post bi Buster)

Mi mommee sed I cud rite this tuda -- ownlee becuz I convinzt her that I had sumtheeng portant tu sa.

I take good cayr of mi mommee. At leest, I do mi very best. I jus no wat is good and oh-kay, an wat is bad and not oh=kay.

Last week, theengs were NOT oh-kay. Furst, mommee found wet arownd big water dish in bathruum. I towld her I didn’t do it. She was veery crabbee. It got wurse wen she fownd big hole in ruuf ware parts uf
Tree fell. Now she is even moor crabbee -- but not at me, thank goodness.

Nyce gi called “ruufer” cums an tells mommee “big job!” Lots of monee. Mommee not happee camper but he pets me and sez I am good, so he seems oh-kay to me. Mommee sighs a lot, but says yes to new roof. Tels me no more gud-boi bonees for a long tyme beecuz nu roof costs lots. WHAT???? Foreget nu roof.

I thot she lisened tu me. But then, awl these men showed up. Mommee tride tu tel me they were buzzard cachers. They made lots of noyse up there. The furst day, it wasn’t too bad. But I was glad wen they went away.

On nex day, they cayme back. With shooters! Lotz of men with shooters! I tried to tell my mommie to take cuver beecuz we were under attak and Thayer waz nuthin I cud du.

That wuz the scaree part -- nuthin I cud du. I’m supposed to du stuf when scaree things cum r way -- lyke buzzards and furree things and red burds, and garbage truks. But theze men with shooters were on my hous and I cud no see them and they were shooting. I started shaking reely bad so my mommee tuk me aut syd ware I cud see the shooters.

Hey, folks out thare, learn it -- sumtymes, thare iz nuthin you can du. An you hav to hav a mommee wu noze itz oh-kay eeven tho it duznt seem oh-kay. She’s a prittee good mom!

Becoming

Dear Lord,

Somehow, please help them to understand,
Because right now,
In all my confusion,
Disappointments,
And searching,
I don’t even
Understand
Myself.

Help them to understand
I’m struggling ---
And struggling hard ---
To find the answers ---
Your answers ---

To questions I don’t know
How to ask,
And sometimes,
I’m not even sure
I know the questions
Knawing at my soul.

Somehow, Lord, please help them to understand --
I want your best
For me
And those I love.
It seems right now
The things I thought
You chose as best
Are not;
Yet, still,
I cannot find
Just what it is
That will replace
My best with Yours.

Somehow, Lord, please, somehow --
There must be someone who understands;
Someone brave enough,
Someone who cares enough
To hug me and to say,
“I understand,
I’ve been there,
I’ll walk the road again
And see you through.”

Somehow, dear Lord, help me
To help them understand.
I’m so afraid
Of sharing all the depths
Of all that hurts,
Of all that doubts,
Of all that yearns and thirsts
For something more.
It hurts when those
Who do not care
Turn away from me
As if I were diseased.
Help them to understand
I need to struggle
And struggle hard
To become ---
Oh, Father,
To become what?

That’s it, Oh Lord,
That’s all they need to understand ---
I want no more
And be assured,
I want no less,
Than to become
Like YOU!

Not high,
Not mighty,
Not lofty,
Or above them;

Not more spiritual,
Not more wise,
Only more like You.

Help them to understand, dear Lord,
I need some time --
Time alone --
Yet,, not alone --
For oh, that they could know
How I yearn for their support
And love,
And yes,
Even an understanding tear.

I’ll do my best --
I have no other choice.
I’ve weighed my options,
Counted all the costs ---
And turning back ---
(back to what?) --
Is not one option
I cannot think about.
I’ll do my best
To learn the unlearned art
Of becoming. . .

Becoming patient
Of those who think
Pat answers always work.

Becoming loving
Of those who are unlovely.

Becoming compassionate
Of those who turn away.

Becoming lovely
And beautiful,
And endearing
To those who say
Unlovely things.

Becoming ---
Oh Father,
I never knew
It would be so hard
To become
Just a little more
Like You!

--Cora Eelman

Continuing counting my grace gifts. . . .

585. Sales on pork roasts, fish, veggies, and even my favorite bread.

586. Cooler weather after a long, hot summer.

587. Watching leaves lose their grip on their branch and slowly dance to the ground.

588. Birds who seem to know within seconds that I have filled their feeder.

589. A diet that works for me (Weight Watchers.)

590. Buster, who doesn't care if I'm fat as long as I'm happy and not crabby.

591. Sharing recipes with friends and finding encouragement and support.

Precious Jewels!

Malachi 3:16-17a, Amplified Version~
Then those who feared the Lord talked often one to another; and the Lord listened and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before Him of those who reverenced and worshipfully feared the Lord and who thought on His name.
And they shall be Mine, says the Lord of hosts, in that day when I publicly recognize and openly declare them to be My jewels (My special possession, My peculiar treasure).

A few weeks ago, I lost my journal --- the one in which I kept a record of my thankful gratitudes I would see in the moment --- the one that Ann VosKamp had inspired me to start ---- the one that was changing my life, moment by moment. I thought I could just remember these wonderful things that came my way each day. I still saw them -- for a while --- but like children’s bubbles, they were soon gone with the breezes, and by Monday morning, I could not retrieve any of them. And even if there were a few, they seemed stale, like last week’s Italian loaf of bread. NOT postable. Not palatable. Maybe more like “yesterday’s manna”.

My friend, Debra, over at Sparrowgrass posted this verse this past week, and it struck me hard. The thought of the Lord bending His ear to listen to me as I talked with others around me, waiting to hear His name spoken with reverence and worship. And, if He DID hear His Name, He would write my name in a Book of Remembrance. I envisioned a sacred ceremony one day when He would open His book, His own personal journal filled with names of those who took the time to think of Him and His Name, and one by one, would call them out publicly and declare them to be His jewels.

Remember that song we used to sing as children?
“When He cometh, when He cometh To make up His jewels,
All His jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own.
Like the stars of the morning
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.

He will gather, He will gather
The gems for His kingdom,
All the pure ones, all the bright ones,
His loved and His own.
Like the stars of the morning
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.

Little children, little children,
Who love their Redeemer,
Are the jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own.

Like the stars of the morning
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty
, Bright gems for His crown.

Sing it with me today, won’t you? And as you do, think His Name -- perhaps one of His Names that is most precious to you! (You can turn off my music already playing if you scroll to the bottom and and hit the button. It should turn it off while you listen to Alison Kraus.)


Still counting my blessings and gratitudes:
567. That He is my Shepherd, providing all of what I need, leaving me with no wants.

568. That He is El Roi, the One who sees ME, knows me better than I know myself, and loves me just the same.

569. That He is El Elyon, the Most High One, far above all other gods, in control of all the worlds and universes, yet, still cares about ME and controls all that comes and goes into and out of my life.

570. That He is Jehovah Ropha, the Healer of all that is broken.
That He is El Shaddai -- The All sufficient One who supplies my every need.

571. That He is Jehovah-Jirah -- The One who will provide.

572. That whenever I whisper His name or scream it loudly, He bends His ear and listens.

573. That He never changes, and all that He says He is, He will always be.

574. That He never leaves me nor forsakes me, no matter what it is I am going through or where I am.

575. That all that He is is made available to me in the moment of my need.

576. That crab cakes made in a healthy, diet-friendly way can be so mouth-watering good!

577. That dinner with a friend can be just so much fun and full of fellowship and laughter!

578. That watching sycamore leaves turn a bronzy gold as they do their last dances in the fall breeze could bring back so many sweet memories.

579. Hearing the acorns hitting the shed roof and rolling slowly off to the ground. I imagine squirrels perking up their ears and knowing that a big job is ahead of them in hiding and burying their winter food stock!

580. Watching leaves dance their final performance as they slowly make their way to the ground.

581. Seeing the magic of moonbeams turn wet, soggy oak leaves into shimmery silver treasures on my sidewalk.

582. Smiling as Buster squints as cool raindrops hit his face. He has sensed my peacefulness in sitting out in the rain and sits patiently with me, wondering why this is a good thing.

583. Celebrating the baptism of a young teenager who is committed to following the Lord.

584. The privilege of worshipping with a recently saved biker gang member --- tatoos, ankle monitor and all. Seeing the love between pastor and biker, the hug, slap on the back, tears of joy shared between them ---- that’s all I needed for a Sunday morning worship.

Joining with Ann VosKamp and a community of so many others who are raising their voices of gratitude on Mondays. Click on the banner below to read others' lists:

The Practice of Hope

It was just a small tree -- small enough to fit into her car. But it was perfect and I knew just where it would go. The best birthday presents are those that live on, and little did I know that this Sycamore tree would become my “Tree of Hope.”

It came in a big pot, tied to a stick that kept it straight and kept it from bending and breaking in the wind. It’s trunk was still small, bendable, and needed support. A few years before, an old oak tree had died, and I chose that place for this new, perky tree. And so, it was planted, stick still in place, with the hopes and dreams of someday seeing a large shade tree in my yard.

Hope has visions of what tomorrow looks like. The maturing of what is, the reality of our faith, the flowering of our buried seeds. And I knew what my Sycamore was to look like --- tall, wide, full of large leaves that would shade a hot summer yard. Hope works towards that end reality, watering, feeding, pruning, etc.

Storms came with wind and rain, sometimes gently, refreshing a thirsty plant, but sometimes violently, as if intentionally trying to break its spine and loose its roots from the ground. I wondered. . .and I hoped. But that stick remained strong and steadfast, keeping my tree in place through each and every storm. It grew taller, and that spindly trunk was now thick and strong.. . And I noticed that the supporting stick had broken away from the tree, its job finished and complete.

Shortly after this, a friend shared her fears as a young boy she had mentored and loved was about to make decisions that she felt were beyond his ability to make. She wondered if there had been more she could have taught him, had her love been enough, could he walk through this strong and unbending? I related the “stick story” to her, and told her she had been the supporting stick to her little “sapling”, and that he was now able to stand strong through the storms. And we stand back, and we wait . . . And we hope. . . With a hope that sees what tomorrow looks like.

Sometimes, between our hope as we plant our dreams and the fulfillment of our vision, a storm will come that seems to test us beyond what we feel we can bear. For me, it was breast cancer and all that goes with it.
Hope? At times it seemed hope was all I had to hold on to, and at other times, I wondered if my stick would hold me up. Chemo was a very strong storm, harsh and unrelenting. Six treatments, six rounds of nightmare material, six times wondering if I’d make it through. I remember looking out my window at my tree ----- my beautiful Sycamore tree ---- and I saw it suffering along with me. I had planted it much too close to my septic tank, and its roots were taking up the waste of my chemo! It’s leaves were curling, burnt brown all along the edges. Some fell, but most hung on, looking about as badly as I felt. Fall and winter came, the last of the leaves fell, and I wondered if my tree would survive and come back again. . .much how I felt about myself.

Spring came, as did the end of surgery and radiation. And then I saw it! Tiny little green buds all up and down the branches of my tree! And I knew we had made it together through the worst of storms. Today I see the fulfillment of my hope --- 2 ½ years since treatments ended and all is well. All is well for my tree, too, as those great big green leaves continually dance in the breeze. It’s fall now, and I’m seeing some bronze leaves as they finish their summer life. But they see me sad and call out to me, “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.” Psalm 43:5

And so I wait yet again and expectantly wait for yet another spring. . .

Joining up with Ann on this “Walk With Him” Wednesday:

Stones of Remembrance

It was 1982. Not the best of years for me. It seemed that my life was falling apart and I had no idea which direction to go. After spending some time in Virginia, I moved back to Florida, the one place I had a home to come to, and I started over ----- again. I had no job, so I took a part time newspaper route. It’s the perfect job for hermits and loners. I could be alone, out in the wee hours of the morning, no one bothering me, no dress code, just me, my papers, and my van.

Perhaps it was seeing my Dad so sick with cancer shortly before moving, or maybe the emptiness of my own soul, or a combination of both. I knew that in my moving that I would probably not see him again and that hit home. Not that we had ever been close and “cozy,” but I loved him, hated to see him suffer, and I felt sad for all that had NOT been there between us. My father’s faith had never wavered through his illness --- it only grew deeper and stronger. And somewhere in the deepest abyss of my soul I knew I was so far from whatever it was he had ---- I might as well have been keeping company with the prodigal son in the pig pen!

It “just so happened” (some would say this, but I believe the Lord makes these things happen) that someone from my way-back past popped up and suggested I read a book, the name of which I just can’t
remember. How can that be????? But I remember that the gist of the whole thing had to do with opening doors of your heart, as you would the doors of your home, and dealing with one room at a time. The only trouble was, you just kept finding more and more doors. And it became a lifetime of “cleaning house.” But one room and only ONE at a time.

As I was delivering those newspapers one night, I was thinking of all the upside-down stuff in my life, all the crazy choices I had made, dreams that turned into nightmares, faith that turned out to be so weak that I wondered if there was any at all, and a tomorrow with no plan or vision or promise. Several hours before, there had been a storm. The tide had been higher than normal and what I did NOT know was that the waters of the Gulf of Mexico had come up over the road, then receded, but left muddy, slippery seaweed on the pavement. So here I come at three o’clock in the morning, and my van full of newspapers slides uncontrollably off the road and into the Gulf. I was able to climb out unhurt, and I just started walking. I had no idea where the nearest phone would be (this was LONG before cell phones), but on that walk, I prayed. I asked the Lord if there was ANYTHING at all left for my life. It just seemed so dark, useless and yes, wet, at that moment. It seemed that I walked forever, but suddenly a verse that I had memorized years and years before came into my thoughts --- Phil. 1:6 -- “He that hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Christ.” I said it over and over and over. And somehow, I knew. He had not lost me, had not let me go, had always known where I was.

So much happens in those sacred moments. Soul washing, heart cleansing, reuniting with a Heavenly Father, and a burden lifting type of peace! And I stooped down and picked up a stone. I wanted something from that place. . . That place of new beginnings.

I still have that stone, along with many others that I have picked up along the way since that night. Each one has a verse that I clung to at a particular time of significance on my journey. Since my Pastor is teaching in the book of Joshua and spent one evening talking about the crossing of the River Jordan and how Joshua had one man from each tribe pick up a stone from the middle of the river as stones of remembrance, I have been thinking of my own stones. Remembering where we’ve been somehow helps me to know where I’m going. His ways don’t change, there is no shadow of turning, He is faithful to His Word, and He is always there! I need to continue to pick up more stones. . . .!

When Giving is Receiving

Some days move along smoothly with no upsets, surprises, or trip-ups. Most of my days are like that. I seem to move in a steady pace, doing what needs to be done, and ending the day wondering where it went!

But today was different. Yesterday, I stopped for some veggies at the stand on the corner, and I was thinking of a gal at church who has been on our prayer list. She is desparately looking for a job, and has been for some time. I knew (you know how you just know???!!!) that this HAD to be tough with two kids. So I got some extra stuff while I was there and headed over to her place.

I was met by a young teen boy who invited me in, offered me a seat and told me that "Momma" would be home shortly and did I want to stay. I needed to go, so he walked me out to the car, carrying on the sweetest conversation. As I got into my car, he asked me my name and said he would let her know that I had been there. I was drawn by him.

Her house was small and rustic --- maybe better called a cottage. Huge oaks shaded everything, and I loved the vines, flowers, trellises, archways, etc. It was such a peaceful place to be.

I wanted to speak with her and find out if there was anything she needed help with, so I went back this evening. Little did I know. . . .

It was ME who would be blessed beyond measure!!!! Beyond anything I could give, this woman gave me more. We talked about God's care and blessings, and I told her how He has brought me through cancer and chemo and supplied my every need. She then told me that she has been battling brain cancer for 25 years now, taking chemo all this time. She is on an experimental program with the Marines. I looked at her, and I thought about myself, "And YOU thought YOU had it bad!" I just grabbed her and hugged her. I couldn't help it.

I saw joy in her eyes, and peace. And as she spoke, faith oozed out all over the place. She told me how she built her home by herself, how she took in the two children, and how she had to build on bedrooms if she wanted to keep them. She told me of being in the Marines, an expert dog trainer (BUSTER, watch out!!!!), and how she took care of her Mom and Dad through long illnesses.

I drove out the long driveway, paused before pulling into the road, and I just sighed a HUGE sigh. Where had I just been???!!!! I thought I was going to find out how I could help someone, and I never even asked the question! Instead, someone ministered to me and lifted me up. Instead, I met someone who is content, happy, and at peace with very little in life.
Instead, I met someone who gives, and gives, and gives of herself for others.

I think I met someone who knows A WHOLE LOT about Calvary Love! Someone I want to get to know better. Someone I want to be more like.

Where's the WOW!???

Several times during the past months, I have heard my friend, Marty, burst with a great big “WOW!” I’d raise my head in surprise and look at his face, and sure enough -- “WOW!” was written all over him. It was real and genuinely expressed ---- and I was jealous.

I was born in church (not really!!!) and I can’t remember ever missing being there when the doors were unlocked. I think I had 17 bars of Sunday School pins when I was 17 years old --- perfect attendance! Youth Groups, Junior church, big church, Pioneer Girls, Youth Choir, Big Choir, Wednesday night prayer meeting, Evening services, etc., etc. I think I always knew that God loved me ---- the first Bible verse I remember learning was, “We love Him because He first loved us.” So I learned a lot during all those years.
I heard it over and over and over and over. . . . In a million different ways, different presentations, different people, different lessons.

I went on to Bible School. More of the same, only a little deeper, more concentrated, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

Now. . . Here I am in my early 60’s. I recently started attending a church where there are many new Christians. Not only are they young in their faith, but all of this “stuff” is brand new to them. One told me that she had no idea what they were talking about when they told her she needed “A Savior.” She had no inclination of what that meant. She said, “Saved from WHAT?” All the words that we are a part of our Christian “language” were new and foreign and strange to her. Grasping the concepts of the sin of man, a Savior, redemption, the cross, etc. just baffled her and said that there ought to be “beginner classes” for those who come into the church unlearned and new.

It’s been a real eye-opener for me, but at the same time, the most refreshing thing I’ve ever experienced. I’ve wondered how many times I have said things that perhaps went right over the heads of those listening to me? I grew up in a time when most of us all went to church ---- Catholic, Jewish, and Christian --- that’s what we all were in my high school and we all went to our respective churches. I remember years later the shock that came over me when a teenager asked me, “Who was Jesus, anyways?” At that time, I thought everyone in the U.S.A. knew that answer. I definitely know better today.

For me, it has been such a blessing to watch new believers “get it!” And there is just a little, tiny piece of me that wishes I were in their shoes. I would like that “WOW!” feeling once in a while. Yes, I am grateful for all God gave me in my Christian upbringing. But having grown up in it all, taking it in little by little on a daily basis, somehow the wonder and awe and newness was just not there for me.

One of my prayers lately has been that the Lord would show me Himself in a new and “WOW!” way, and that Scriptures that have been memorized and repeated over and over all my life would become new and alive and real ---- just as they are to Marty.

How about you? Do you have any “WOW’s” ? I’d love to hear about them!

Read others who are participating in On Your Heart Tuesdays here:

Old Paths and Good Ways

Several weeks ago, a friend invited me (or should I say, BUSTER) to go to the beach to share a playdate with her two dogs. All I could think was. . . . BUSTER?????? And ME??????? Out with real people and other dogs????? We talked it back and forth, and after finding no fight in me at all, I thought, what’s the worst that could happen??? We could just come home.

The day arrived, and it had been raining. The sky looked so threatening, but I put Buster’s gentle leader collar on, snapped on his leash, grabbed some towels, ice, water, etc., and out we went.

By the time we were all ready to jump into their car, it was starting to rain, but we decided to go anyway.
I was shocked at Buster’s good behavior with the other dogs. Amazing!!!!!

I loved the ride. It took me on a trip down memory lane ---- places of years ago, old haunts, good times, hard work, places of new beginnings, dreams, bad endings, and people involved in all the in-betweens. Add to that, I love rain, and I loved the conversation and getting to know new and wonderful friends.

The sky was still dark and threatening when we arrived at the beach, and the wind blew non stop, but it was perfect. No blazing sun, no hot sand, no squinting, no mosquitos, no panting and no sweat! Can’t beat that.
This doggy-friendly beach area was deserted except for our little party, and Buster found the walk to the water just full of wonderful sniffing places, and his nose would not stop! His head was high and his nose taking it all in. But to see his eyes when we reached the water ----- I wish I had remembered to take my camera. Up until now, the biggest body of water he has seen has been the little blue plastic kiddy pool in the back yard! Can you imagine what he thought of the Gulf????? And waves??????


I rolled up my pant legs, and began to tug on Buster’s leash, but he had anchored his feet deep in the sand.
But the next wave came up over his legs, and we were in. The other two doggy friends were swimmers and jumped right in, but Buster?????? No jumping in that stuff, no sitting, no swimming. I didn’t force it, and soon he relaxed a little and at least got his belly wet. What a chicken for a great big ooff of a dog!

The sea was restless, churning dark, and the waves were hitting hard and fast. The phrase, “troubled sea” took on a new look for me, as this was truly it. I stood there, trying to anchor my feet, just as Buster was,
But each wave took away the sand I had planted my feet in, and I felt myself losing my footing. Time after time, wave after wave, more sand washed away from around my feet, and I was sinking. I would have to move again and again. Buster heard the sea gulls and was watching them above him. They flapped their wings so hard, trying to fly against the wind, but seemed suspended in midair as they could not make any headway. I loved their soft, soprano harmony added to the beat set by the crashing waves and the melody of the wind.

If anyone could have seen my heart that day, it would have looked just like this storm tossed gulf beach. A “troubled sea” would aptly describe it. I had forgotten that feeling that comes when something crashes in, and my footing feels unsure, and I’m finding all the junk from the bottom of my heart churned up and causing me to trip over my own feet. Sand!!!. . . . . At that moment, I felt like my whole life was just sand. . . Something that was just washing out to sea at the will of a churning storm.

I looked behind me, and I saw how over time, about 3 feet of beautiful beach had been washed out to sea by these waves. There was a wall where the sea grass ended, where the waves had beat away inch by inch what had been. I saw it as “a line drawn in the sand” so to speak --- the place where the waves stopped and never crossed --- a dividing line between what is a sure foundation with roots and life and stuff that grows, and shifting sands that wash away with the slightest of storms. On one side, the storm nurtures and waters life, on the other side, the storm takes away to the bottom of the sea.

The dogs all had a great time, and so did we. I know I did. I loved watching Buster’s reaction to it all. We got ready to leave, put our shoes on, and found the path back to the car. This path was well worn, beat down by many, many years of people and their dogs. But step off that path and the sand spurs dig in like spears. Buster stopped dead in his tracks and lifted his paw and it was up to me to pull those suckers out!!!!
I wrapped the leash so it would be shorter and kept him on the path. This path twisted and turned a bit, but we knew it led to the parking lot and the car. It was the way we had come --- so it was the way back. Later, as I thought of it all, I was taken back to Jeremiah 6:16. A favorite of mine for years, but I had not thought of it in so long. . . . “Thus says the LORD: Stand in the ways and see, And ask for the old paths, where the good way is, And walk in it; Then you will find rest for your souls.”

We went home, dogs were dog tired, and it continued to rain. My heart still churned like the sea and for weeks I tripped in the sea weed of my soul and sunk in the sands of what I had previously thought were rock solid foundations of my faith.

Why I let all this happen to me, I don’t know. I knew better. I knew the “good way.” I knew the “old paths.” I had no business on that side of the line in the sand -- all I had to do was remain steadfast, stay in the ruts of the old paths and the good way and I would not be pierced by sharp sand spurs, I would not lose my way, and my footing would be safe and sure.

I needed a picture, a real life illustration. A day at the beach in the pouring rain with crazy dogs and two wonderful people who had no idea of what was going on in my heart.

Thank you Dan and Liz!

Linking up with "On Your Heart Tuesdays" today. Click on the icon and
check out what is on the hearts of others this week.