Category Archives: My Walk With God

He has been, IS, and will continue to be with me

The Hummer

Ruby-throated hummingbird

The windows were going to be cleaner than they’d been in years because of the theory of “One thing leads to another.” I’d awakened with a single thought: “I’m tired of looking through the solar screens to see our resident hummingbirds!” Why continue to complain when you can take action?

Morning coffee finished and still in my sleep shirt, I headed out to the deck where I removed the dark grey screens from our three kitchen/dining area windows. In doing so, however, I noted the accumulated filth around and on the windows themselves. That’s when my path became clear.

By now, I’d swept around the windows to remove the spider webs, dead bugs, and sand and the heat had begun. My “break” lasted only until I noticed the vast array of dirt-coated water spots that now obscured my view. It became clear that there was much more work to be done!

To abbreviate this a bit, as I sat inside sipping ice water and resting, something hit the window! A beautiful little hummer had flown into it, then, confused, toward another window and right to the skylight over the porch and decking! Trying to fly upward toward the sky he saw battered him into exhaustion so occasionally he rested on a tiny ledge, panting, until he could try again and again. I simply could not be the cause of the little bird’s death and the thought of my clean windows having played a huge part screamed at my heart.

As I do so often, I took the problem to my Lord for I had to help the little guy! One thought led to another and I began to weep. I was willing to do anything to save the frightened, helpless creature. God had sent His precious Son to save me and you so surely I could rescue one little hummingbird! Though my brain is limited, an idea began to hatch.

What was needed became obvious when I saw the long-handled fishing net that hubby uses when the boys are visiting. After covering the netting tightly with a pillowcase I asked God to help me. The exhausted little bird, hesitantly at first, saw what he needed to do. Getting the courage that was needed took a few minutes but he finally eased his little feet around the cloth-covered rim of the net as I spoke softly to him and continued to pray.

No prayer is wasted! Not even those sent up for a tiny bird in distress. The little guy trusted me enough to finally step onto the loop at the end of a pole. Now, more tears flowed when he actually stayed on as I moved the net slowly down…then out from under the overhang. Once he saw that he was under the open, real sky again, he was gone.

Yes, the hummer was gone from sight but not from mind. He’d been shown the way to safety but (like us all) he first had to put his trust in someone outside of himself. Someone who loved him for the creature he was and someone who was willing to go that “extra mile.” Jesus Christ did that for you and me in performing a single act of unconditional love.

Thank you, Lord, for the reminder

Christ in Her Eyes

It’s said that critters have no souls – much less huge brain power. And, in my mind, that’s likely true. However, God has put them on this earth and in our lives for a reason. Occasionally, they serve a much larger purpose than one might expect.

Suzi grooved on greeting me immediately when I walk into the door. That particular day was no different…with one exception. She moved up toward me as I moved down toward her. (Dachshunds are pretty short, you know.) For lack of a better word, I “scrunched” her beautiful black and tan face and head between my hands (giving her lots of extra wrinkles) as she sniffed my face thoroughly. Our eyes met and I fell into their deep brown.

“I love you. I’ll defend you. I love you. I’d die for you. I love you. Walk with me. Talk to me. Touch me. I love you more than you can know. Spend time with me. I depend on you. You depend on me. I love you. I died for you…” The entire thing was pretty overwhelming!

Then it dawned on me that, in that split second, Christ had asked our sweet, loving pup to serve as His vessel…a medium of sorts. He had something to say and chose her through whom to speak.

The words had filled my head so quickly that I was stunned. Why those particular words and why then? Questions remain unanswered — for my own brain is far too small. But there was a purpose. There always is.

Now I’m prodded to ask a question. When God looks into my eyes…and my heart…what does He see? I think that a prayer that I said quite awhile back still applies: “Father, may the me that I am better reflect the You that You have always been. Amen.”

For the sake of some interaction, let me pose a question to you. (Yes…YOU!) What does God see when He looks into your eyes? Or, what do you want Him to see? Answer in the form of a comment. There’s no need to be shy for, after all, we do share the same Father. I look forward to your response.

That’s a very personal question so, an answer isn’t needed unless you feel comfortable. Instead, feel free to simply respond with a comment on what you think about what I’ve shared here. This was written before her passing before me and I’ve made slight changes here and there.

Priorities Are Situational

It’s true that we aren’t ever too old to learn. In a sense, I’ve known this to be true for years (as is evidenced by the fact that I really enjoy learning new things even at the “ripe old age” of sixty-four).

We go through life thinking,” What I want is what’s important!” “Our own lives are our priority!” And that’s true…if we live with our head in a hole; if we’re living lives that don’t touch the lives of others; if we’re not grandparents; and lastly, if we’re not children of God.

When did this revelation occur? Actually, it was more of a reminder. Probably when we were keeping Jesse and Benjamin for several days. Then it was confirmed when Daniel came for his visit. Quite simply, our priorities need to change depending on what is going on with other people. Perhaps I’ve achieved the epitome of flemsibility? Wrong! It was just a little reality check. Call it a reminder that, if there other people within our sphere of influence, space or circle, those very people should become our priority…even though it’s our life!

After all…What if Jesus had walked through life without changing His priorities to lift up or include the people around Him?

Oh, No! I’m Missing!

Good mornin’ world! God missed His chance to take me in my sleep but I slept until 8:30 and almost scared myself to death! Of all days to oversleep! It’s change-of-schedule-day at church and I should be there…at my post, greeting those who come! But the spiked, white hair with a smiling face and a firm handshake is missing today. I’m sorry, Lord.

My Words Bounced Back and Hit Me In the Heart!

Columbia
Image via Wikipedia

Once you throw something out, there’s a chance that it will come back to you. That very thing happened to me not to long ago.

I opened an envelope from my precious Aunt Mary (who really isn’t my aunt…but my second cousin). She had kept an email that I’d written in 2003 and wanted me to have it back. Her words, though simple, were priceless to me. She told me that she had been inspired by what I’d written as much now (upon re-reading it) as she had been when I’d sent it to her so many years ago.

Sometimes I’m a writer — but most often I’m not. But, after reading my own email which was returned to me on April 5, 2011, I can say that on February 3, 2003…I might actually have been a writer. That really isn’t for me to say so I’ll let you be the judge.

It’s subject was: My thoughts on Columbia

“When I’m depressed I tend to go to bed way earlier than my norm. Yesterday was one of those days.

I’d awakened the previous beautiful morning to bright blue cloudless sky and a couple of computer-related things to do so, as was my custom, I came in, sat down, then turned on my little TV…mostly for the noise I suppose. Sadly, it presented me with much more than ‘just noise.’ The shuttle Columbia was breaking up.

My heart sank into a hole and I called my kids in Arlington (just southwest of Dallas) to warn them not to touch anything unusual that might be a part of the fallen bird. As I suspected, they knew nothing…living in their own world of sleeping as much as possible. I cried as we spoke about the catastrophe.

Yesterday was but one day past and still it lingered in my mind. There was something about that flight patch which had been found in perfect condition… Perhaps it was a symbol, left quietly in a patch of grass, of the seven souls whose lives, now with God, are NOW in perfect condition?

They were blessed…for each was doing what he or she WANTED to do! How many of us can say that? The decisions that led them to that day were ones that they didn’t regret…for they were on a mission! They had a goal! And, in their taking off…they had accomplished that goal! How elated they must have been!

The devastating event which happened was only a bump in their road for, even today…they fly on! It is their families and friends who now have gaping holes in their hearts and lives. My prayers are with them.

Our country is a better place for having had them here with us for some 40+ years and, though their bodies have been ripped from the fabric of our country, we will mend. Some will become stronger, even more dedicated people as a result of what we, as a people, experienced the morning they fell. HE will work wonders…for through this grief, there will be miracles…and lives and hearts will change!

Praise God!”

He Speaks at the Strangest Times

A couple of nights ago, I discovered some dry turds (for lack of a better term) in our “big room.” Poop in any part of our home isn’t a good thing but it was dry and hard…which made it easy to pick it up and drop into the closest toilet. Because of its overall “character,” I knew that the perpetrator had been Sammie (“Sam”) …again. Yes, tho she’d likely already forgotten about it, I scolded her anyway. She acted very guilty…confirming my suspicions. Yup! She was, in fact, the offending critter! Our Suzi would burst before she did that…unless she was fighting IBS.

A bit later in the day, however, after that was behind us, I walked outside with the girls encouraging them to do their “business.” When Sam finally assumed her classic pooper position, I knew what would come next. When she finished, however, rather than scolding her (as I’d done a couple of hours earlier), I walked over and told her what a “good girl” she was for making her “mess” outside…rather than in the house! Then I scrubbed her ears and spoke in loving tones as though she were starting over in her house training “class”. All was forgiven and I was giving her yet another chance to do things right. After all, she tends to do this kind of thing periodically. Though she’s middle-aged for a dog, she, like us all, is far from perfect.

What a blessing that God is much like that with us, His children! There I was. Standing out in the back yard supervising the girls’ “business” and out of that proverbial clear blue sky dropped this huge TRUTH! It seems that I spend my life making one “mess” after another and God simply covers me with his Grace without a second thought! I don’t deserve that! He should either punish me Himself or encourage someone else to do it. My nose should be rubbed in it and I should be rolled over on my back and spoken to in gruff, alpha-dog-type tones! I should be sentenced to die in…and because of my sin! Instead, though, He simply reaches over, scrubs my ears, speaks softly to my heart, and gives me yet another chance to do things right. Why am I treated with such love when I screw up so often? Because He’d sent Jesus to be punished…to die in my place. Wow! That’s quite a gift! And just think. All we have to do is believe in Him and accept His sacrifice in our behalf.

This just goes to show you that God should be considered the Master Opportunist. Sometimes He uses the most trivial things to get our attention! He very softly placed a huge concept in front of my mind while I stood in my own back yard tending to our dogs! And He did it in such a way that I could better understand something that I already knew…but needed to hear again. Yes! My God IS an awesome God indeed!

Indictment Covered in Dust

I don’t know how you are but I hate to clean house! Years ago I told my hubby that he and I could clean the house together on one day of the weekend and we wouldn’t need to pay someone else to do it. His time must have been far more important to him than money for, from that day on, we’ve paid a lovely lady to clean the main part of our home a couple of times a month. There are certain rooms, however, that (for one reason or another) we close off when she comes. Why pay to have the seldom-used rooms cleaned? I’d take care of those when it became necessary. On THIS DAY, it was critical!

The panic had set in! My son and his family were comin’ for Thanksgiving and I had to get serious about dusting the super sentimental entertainment center in what once had been “Mom’s Room.” Talk about motivation to clean!! I was under the gun! Company (even family) has always forced me to really get the house in shape. Picture this. My normally neatly spiked white hair looked more like a horribly abused toothbrush. Comfort was my uniform of the day so my very informal sleepwear was perfect. Struggling to finish my first of many tasks for the day, my nose had begun to drip profusely. Why? Dust has been one of my highest allergens for as long as I can remember. Anyway, there I was…plopped on laminate flooring that reminded me that my tail bone had once been broken. I was pooped! Many trips up and down a little ladder takes its tole.

I’ve placed the piece of mostly oak so that I can see it from my desk and filled it with memories and parts of my past in the form of many of my favorite things. You know all about momentous, souvenirs, some of Mom’s more interesting collections, etc.. You likely have similar items in your own home. And I bet your collection gets dusted infrequently, too.

I’d spent a couple of hours removing treasures from every shelf and caressing each lovingly with a damp cloth. After all, this accumulation of mementos was almost as meaningful as the entertainment center itself! My son and I had chosen the very heavy piece when he was a teenager. Then we proceeded to have a blast applying Tung oil to it. We’d invested much more than money. I value this one piece of furniture more than any other in our home because of the quality time that he and I spent working on it together.

As I was almost finished, my left hand encountered a couple of spiral notebooks standing up next to an old Bible in one of the three bottom sections. I’d had them for so long that I’d forgotten they were there. They measured 9 1/2 x 6 inches so they couldn’t have been used for school work. Funny how time often erases so much…but the bluish-green one seemed to fit comfortably in my hand. So, I opened it to a random page in the middle and began to read the vaguely familiar handwriting. Before I was finished, tears traced down my cheeks as I recognized something that I’d written many years ago.

Being truly honest – At this point, I’m actually wondering where that woman who wrote poetry is for she is seldom if ever seen these days. Perhaps she is more the person I SHOULD be…rather than the person I am. That thought may explain some of the tears. Either way, there I sat on the hard floor, in my scruffy sleepwear, with my spiked hair askew, and surrounded by dust still floating about in a room full of memories. There I sat – stunned by the fact that I sort of felt indicted by the simple act of dusting? Ive changed in so many ways! I do know one thing about me that hasn’t changed, however! My thoughts and feelings about Christmas have never wavered. It IS all about Jesus Christ…God’s gift to us…and still, in my mind, Christmas is best represented by the cross.

I heard myself asking God, “Why did I find this now? I don’t have the time to finish reading this. I still have so much to do to get ready!” And yet I couldn’t seem to put it down. What am I supposed to do with it? It’s old…like me…but it’s spoken to my heart even after all these years. Maybe I’m supposed to share it with others. So, that’s what I’m going to do here.

What interest is there in a Christmas poem written maybe thirty years ago? Probably none. None the less, here it is. Rather than putting it in print, however, I’ll read it to you. Please understand that poetry is often a surprise to those who write it. And, it’s always open to interpretation. I was given the “picture” and simply tried to use my own language to express what I saw. My words don’t do the story justice – but perhaps someone out there will benefit from hearing them.   THIS IS CHRISTMAS

“Merry Christmas to all! And to all…a good night!”

“Mom’s Room”

Display Table in Current Spot

It’s only fair to admit that it’s never been Mom’s Room at all. Regardless of what you call it, though, as I sit in my “office” (originally a formal dining room), from my chair, I look through the foyer and into what used to be the formal living room of the home that Guy T and I bought two decades ago. (Wow! Though I find it hard to imagine, that makes me pretty old.)

So, if it’s never actually been Mom’s room, why-in-the-heck…?

It’s sort of a long story so, I’ll likely be forced to tell it in pieces. The truth of the matter is that my original intent this morning had been to talk about…dusting, of all things! Well, not really dusting-but that’s where my thoughts headed before they were diverted?

I’ll work backwards, since memories are, in a sense, life lived backwards. Just before she left this earth, Mom had asked me to promise that, when she died and we got official “custody” of their home, we’d sell it and use the money for a new home. Being an obedient daughter, that’s exactly what we did.

When we found our lovely new nest, it seemed only fair to name one of the rooms “Mom’s Room”. So, the formal living room in the front of the house, was filled with some of her favorite furniture and “Mom’s Room” was born!

Picture the huge, long, blue, three-cushion couch against the far wall accented by an antique glass display table in the corner. Then, throw a lamp and sundry artistic items in the mix. Her curvaceous, wooden free-formed coffee table served as a lovely footstool. In the corner diagonal to the couch was a stately, modernish lime green chair which she’d reupholstered a couple of times. Tossed throughout the room were pillows and afghans in combinations of bright blue and lime green. Those were, you must understand, her favorite colors.

In 2002, when I received the diagnosis of ductile carcinoma, it was in Mom’s room that I suddenly found myself on my knees. No, I wasn’t talking to her but, it was much like kneeling beside her and resting my head on her lap…as I talked to God about my fears, inadequacy to carry the load, and to seek His guidance. In a sense, both were there with me. But that’s another story…for yet another time.