June 19, 2013 First Blog!

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

Stop murmuring!

Philippians 2:14-15 Do all things without murmurings and disputings:  That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world...

Ahh if you could have only been in Bible Study this morning. The girls and I are meandering through the Book of Philippians via a Kay Arthur study. As is inevitable when discussing the previous week's events, we get a little slack. We get a little lazy, complacent, and--okay, we whine sometimes. There. I said it.

We discuss the needs in our lives, in our spiritual walks, and then we write down on a sticky note our special prayer requests. At the end of the meeting, we each take one of these and are supposed to pray over that concern. Realizing we have been brought up better than to just whine and complain, one of the ladies mentioned she had taken part in the "Thankful Challenge" that has been going on on Facebook. A couple of us had already participated but we decided as a group to list three things we are thankful for over the next seven days and report back at our next meeting. I went ahead and told Linda to go ahead and put me at the top of her list.wink emoticon I'm just helpful that way.

Later, we all went to lunch and I must say, I was a bit saddened that we had so quickly lost our fervor--myself included. Either the burgers were too done or the potato salad had celery seeds in it or the food wasn't brought out at the same time. Yep, that quickly we had forgotten our decision to stop murmuring and to be more thankful. Sigh. No wonder we need a Saviour! Having accountability partners is well and good--as long as we take each other seriously.

So, here's what I am determining to do today for the next week--in addition to the Thankful Challenge: I am going to be bold. I am going to sweetly remind my sisters in Christ when they are being immature. Not in a mean way and not in a judgmental way. There's plenty of that out there and it certainly shouldn't come from my lips. I am going to be a stronger friend and casually but confidently remind them of the lessons we have learned and should be applying. My hope is that they will love me enough to do the same.

It's time we grow up, folks. Time to get real and stop playing church. We don't have time for it and the world needs lights in this world. We need to be blameless and stop turning people off with our poor behavior. How do we expect others to see Jesus in us if we aren't portraying Him in a favorable light? We can't if we refuse to put into practice the things we have been taught. I'm ready! Who's with me? smile emoticon

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September 3, 2014

Close your--wait. If you close your eyes, how can you continue to read my blog? Hmn. Okay, let's try it this way. Picture in your mind that you are one of these penguins. Who is the other one, the one whose hand you wish to hold, so that you may stroll along the shores of Glory, and just meander through Heaven with? It doesn't have to be a spouse because there is no marriage in Heaven so...Think of that soul whom you would love to just take your time with as you and s/he walk slowly along the path, maybe not even talking; maybe just enjoying being together. Now, share this photo with that dear one and tell 'em you love 'em. You might just make their day! Ahh the stories that you will share. The reasons why, finally explained. The mysteries unraveled. The half-truths becoming wholes. That that was known in part will be known fully, just as you are. No more misunderstandings. It's going to be great! See you there? I certainly hope so!

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September 2, 2014

Good evening. Usually I tend to blog in the morning but today...today I got caught up in too many memories as I tried to write so I put that one away in hopes that my words would be more pleasant and hopefully inspirational later in the day. As I looked through the pics I have in my folder to choose from, this one stood out to me. With it being September now, summer is coming to an end, and thoughts of burrowing up and canning those last bits of garden delights fill our minds. Many of us planted seeds of all different varieties and the harvest is plenty. Enjoying the fruits of our labors is the reward our Good Lord allows us. However, as we turn this blog now to spiritual seeds, let's take a moment and reflect on that farming. Were any of you involved in Bible School, mission trips, back-to-school events, and such? Many of those you encountered will not be in your daily realm but...But those seeds you planted, those verses you taught, those crafts you made with the kids, and all of those hugs you so joyfully doled out? Oh, what a wonderful field that one day will be, just ripe for the pickings! Can't you just imagine all of those sweet little kids one day coming up to you in Heaven, thanking you for teaching them about Jesus? No, you may not have lead them to Him but guess what? You did your part. You prayed for them, you put ideas of the greatest love of all in their sweet little minds, and mostly you showed them Jesus in the flesh when you reached out to them, loving them, and accepting them for the moments you were allowed with them. Thank you. Thank you! The workers are few. Thank you for doing your part!

1

September 1, 2014 Heavy sigh. Deep breath. Fingers flexed. Another sigh. I think I can do this. Breathe. Again. Eyes closed in silent prayer, one more sigh, and...Here we go! Saturday was the reunion date for my elementary school. It started well enough and truthfully ended well. Even the in-between moments were pretty good. Twelve of the remaining twenty-eight of us were there and the ones who weren't able to attend were missed. Almost each of us brought some sort of family with us so, all-in-all, there were probably around thirty folks there. The weather was pleasant and we sat around the playground (not the one we had grown up on) on chairs and on the ground as we chatted, reminisced, and caught up with each other. Everyone seemed pleased to see the others. There was one of our former teachers who came and it was a joy to see her (even if she did think I was my sister at first). Not everyone arrived at the same time so it was pleasantly calm and unharried to catch up individually with the ones who meandered in. Of course there were a few tears as some of us talked about those whom we have lost. For some, it was parents. Others it was siblings, husbands, and some even had lost children of their own. But overall, the atmosphere was one of camaraderie and cheer. And then... And then there were the inevitable personal questions asked of me, such as how was my brother, my other sister. "What? You don't talk to them? You haven't seen them in years? Doesn't he still just live down the road?" Their simple questions turned into ones of doubt and confusion as I tried to explain without going into detail about how after my dad had died six years ago--and Mary following a mere four weeks later--that we grew further apart rather than pulling together. "But your mom has only been gone a couple of years now, right?" Yeah. Two years on September 3, to be concise. "She was always so sweet to me." "Was she," I asked, with just a touch of longing in my voice that caused them to look curiously at me. A tad uncomfortable, the topic then changed to my brother. Surely this one would get a better response, they thought. Until... "So, how's Billy? What's he up to these days?" Sigh. Trying to sound positive. "I don't know. I've not seen him in two years." "You haven't seen Billy since then?!" they asked in disbelief and mortification. They didn't know how hurtful their questions were as I tried to breeze through them as though it didn't matter. They didn't know that families do in fact fall apart and don't love you unconditionally. Not totally, anyways. Sure, some of them had had one or two black sheep but I don't think any of them were actually that rejected one themselves. The one not welcomed back to the fold. Where was Jesus at in all of this, anyways? He was there. He was there way back when all of the dysfunctions began and He is still here now. Agreeing to disagree is not exactly the phrase I'd use but...sometimes folks just have to part ways. Paul and Barnabas did, as well as Jacob and Laban. Not everyone is happy when this occurs but...sometimes love just isn't enough to allow folks to live peacably amongst each other. Sometimes-no matter how much it hurts and no matter how you wish it could be different--sometimes you just have to separate for the greater good. For your sanity, for your peace, for your soul's sake. It doesn't mean God doesn't care or that one was right over the other. It doesn't mean the love ended. It maybe just means that it doesn't have to hurt so much and therefore separation is the best road to take. It might not be the one you would have chosen but thankfully--hopefully!!--it isn't you who had to make that choice. Our journeys in life are different and the choices each of us make can't always please the majority. What's right in one's eyes isn't necessarily so in another's. And keep in mind that there are at least two sides to each story. Try not to judge, not to hear only half-truths, and try to love those--like me--whom you don't always understand. If you have questions, ask. Just be prepared though for answers you may not like. Sometimes they can change your whole thought process and either clear things up or make them muddier than before. Perhaps you are better off not knowing at all. There are many things I would like to unknow (is that even a word?)! Let's pray! Dear Lord, in a world where the roses don't always bloom and often have too many thorns to even make one want to stop and smell them, beauty still exists. Kindness is still offered. Growth--once weeds and bugs are removed--still goes on. And isn't that one bloom worthy of being noticed, of being cared for, of being cherished? Help us today, I pray, to be more sensitive to stories we may have heard and made false assumptions about. Help us to seek the truth but only if we are able to handle it. Some things truly are no one's business but others? Others Lord indeed need both sides to be made known in order for unity and truth to prevail. It isn't Your plan for Your children to be separated. Help us, Father, to love each other more than ourselves is my prayer, asked in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Perky Chaplains

August 19, 2014 I must confess: I was a bit put off by the chaplain's visit yesterday to Uncle Wayne's bedside. In she breezed, blonde hair in a loose pony tail, full of life, and a smile as big as Texas. Her voice was chirpy and her attitude was "I'm here. Let's get to business!" It didn't seem to matter to her that we were in the midst of a conversation or that she might be interrupting something. Oh no: she was here and she had a job to do. Introductions were short and to the point. Her focus was not on us but rather the fella in the bed who was on her list. Boldly she declared she was here to pray and before Wayne could quite acquiesce, off she went, murmuring some flighty, cheerful prayer about how in the name of Jesus we loved Him and praised Him; how she was declaring victory for Wayne to heal and to walk right out of this hospital, and again, how much we all loved the Lord. Seemed like she was in and out in a blink, as we all kind of stood back and wondered what had hit us. It bothered me. The more I pondered it, the more conflicted I became. I mean, seriously, who was this woman? Yeah, her tag said she was the chaplain but...Aren't chaplains supposed to be these more formal creatures who nod solemnly and sit you in a chair and pat your hand while you tell them all about it, whatever "it" may be? Aren't they supposed to linger and let you bog them down with all of your needs, as well as those of your loved one who is aching in his/her own right? And that prayer? Ridiculous! How dare she assume we all love Jesus and that our number one desire was for Wayne to be healed so that he could indeed walk out of the hospital, even though his paralysis barely allowed him half of a body to use? And what was with all of this "Praise Jesus" stuff? Didn't she know that we were in a storm and rejoicing in this suffering was not our number one priority? Okay faithful readers, you know what is coming next. Ol' Stef is about to be corrected. Gently, 'cause that's the way her Lord is. This morning in my inbox I had a prayer request from someone I don't know, asking me to join with her in prayer about a personal matter. I sighed within myself as I thought once again, "How am I supposed to pray for someone that I don't know, that I don't know what is wrong with specifically, and to pray in a way that is helpful and encouraging?" Yeah, you guessed it. Ding ding ding! We have a winner! It's really quite easy, isn't it? There is a request, a need, a cry for help (even if the cry barely comes out as a whisper). There is someone nearby who is in touch with our Father, who knows how great He is and how worthy He is of praise in good times and in the bad ones too. He promised to hear us when two or more gather in His name. He is the Great Physician so how absolutely foolish it would be to not ask Him to use His healing powers on our loved ones! Okay, I got it. Again, Lord. Miss Breezy Blonde Chaplain from yesterday: I am sorry. I misjudged you, criticized your cheerful attitude (which in hindsight was really quite pleasant when there was so much sobriety in the air), and brushed off your cavalier attitude of going from room to room as "just a job" rather than as a calling to spread light, to spread cheer, to offer hope, and to talk to Jesus on people's behalfs when they may not have the words to utter and can only hold on to your hand for hope, for relief. Sigh. Please forgive me Lord, for doubting this gal's intentions. Thank You for putting her in my path for a reason: to be both a blessing and a lesson. May she continue to shine brightly for You in her calling and I pray that many more are blessed by this sweet lady. In Jesus' name I pray, with head bowed low in shame but rising as I see the Light. Amen!

Keys

August 13, 2014 Keys. We all have them. Some are for our homes. Others are for our cars. Lockers, desks, filing cabinets. Safes. Ahh, the safes. The places we keep our treasures--both of material and sentimental value. Let's explore these holding places for a moment, shall we? When I was a kid, I had a trunk. You know those kind that were cheaply made but many of us had? They came with a lock but if one was smart, one added a padlock of some sort so that it could not be easily broken into, which unfortunately I didn't have at this stage of the game. The lock that was affixed to my trunk could truthfully be opened with a good knife or clothes hanger. I also had a diary. Same concept. It came with an itty bitty lock on it that had this minuscule key that somehow was supposed to convince the writers that their secrets were safe as long as no one else had access to the key. Well, I don't know about you but I had two nosy sisters and one bratty brother when I grew up. This fact caused me much reason to fear and guard my privacy! I kept those keys close to my heart. Literally. I made a necklace that I kept both keys on so that my siblings did not have easy access to my most sacred thoughts and possessions that I innocently and reverently wrote about in my diary and stored in my trunk. Some people used to bury their worldly savings. Hiding things under mattresses, making time capsules to bury in the backyard, and stashing away money in the barn or under a rock or what have you was often common for those who mistrusted the banks. Old coffee cans were sometimes also places of hiding special monies. Folks could get quite creative in the endeavor to hide the things they valued most. So, what about the things we have hidden in our hearts, in our minds, in our souls? What things are buried deeply within the recesses of our most private parts that perhaps have been corrupted with mold, tarnished by truths that have lessened their values but yet we still refuse to part with? What about those memories that have bound us for years because we have refused to let them see the light of day and have not allowed ourselves to take them out of their hiding spots? Afraid, perhaps, that the light might actually reveal their true worth rather than the value we have (falsely?) placed on them? Yesterday, I was rummaging about in on older filing cabinet and found some letters that had been written to me. One-- from my niece Jill--caused me to laugh out loud as she pondered some of the things going on in her life. Another was from my sister Mary who had written about how she really loved me, valued me, and how my family and I were the only ones she believed loved her in return. Bittersweet words. And then, later in the day, there were the emails in my computer files that I glanced over as I went to an old account that I rarely use while searching for some log in information for Lowe's. Digital letters from my mother were there, begging me to open them and if I would, they promised to bring alive feelings that really just don't need to be reawakened. The old me would have read them and bled over them but the new Stef? Ahh, the smarter Stef realized I didn't need to be a prisoner of my past. The devil would have loved nothing more than to damage my calm and reopen wounds that are still healing. As my hubby is so fond of saying, "You just have to be smarter than what you are working with." I don't dare to say I am smarter than Satan but this time, this time, I made the conscious, concentrated choice to not go back to the prison of negativity and despair. The key was in my hand and I decided to not open that door, to not be chained once again to a past that I cannot change. I found the information I needed for Lowe's and I returned to my regularly scheduled programming that did not involve walking down Memory Lane. In conclusion, like The Eagles sang, "I'm already gone. And I'm feeling strong. I will sing this victory song: Woo Hoo Hoo. Woo hoo hoo!" I don't have to be enslaved to things of my past that only hurt me. I don't have to keep those keys close to my heart and be a masochist. I don't have to live my life in chains. Jesus Christ set me free and He whom the Son has set free is free indeed. He broke the bonds of prison for me. Yes, the devil is not happy about this and I am just so sure he will attack again. And again. He wants me in bondage but with Christ in me, I have the key. The choice to either open up those painful doors of regret, shame, and hurt or to leave them locked up, impenetrable, and remain in love and peace is mine. Guess which one I chose? Dear Lord, What a wonderful Saviour You are. Saved me from my past, from my haunts and hurts, from my feelings of inadequacy, from the dysfunction I faced for so long. You gave me the power through Your love to make better choices, to have second, third, and eightieth chances. You saved me from sin and darkness and brought me into the light, into Your light. Thank You, Jesus! I can indeed do all things through Christ Who strengtheneth me. Hallelujah and oh what a Saviour! I love You, Lord. Thanks for loving me first and teaching me what real love is. You are the best! Amen.

Even as I post this photo, the song "Why Can't We Be Friends?" is playing in my head. That's just the way I am. My dear friend (that I wrote about yesterday) and I were having one of those Facebook private chats that we do every so often and she floated a line from a Billy Joel song (Only The Good Die Young) in our conversation. I always think of her during this song anyway so it was just icing on the cake! How I love music! Turn on my iPod and you are likely to hear Barbra Streisand, Barry Manilow, Conway Twitty, Alabama, The Eagles, Kelly Clarkson, Seals and Crofts, Madonna, Third Day, Bebo Norman, Alanis Morissette, Carrie Underwood, Luke Bryan, Carly Simon, John Denver...I have quite the eclectic taste. I've almost always got a song running through my mind, and--like the picture depicts--those lyrics can pop out at any given moment. I am learning to control that better in my new role as a granny but still...sometimes they just don't stop. When they do and just float around instead inside of my head, they can elicit all kinds of moods, thoughts, and memories. In the Bible, we are told how music was used to soothe. David playing his harp is a prime example. Songs of victory were expressed often in the Psalms, as were songs of loneliness and questioning. Praise and worship music is not anything new and--thankfully--continues to this day. How many of us have not been exposed to the old hymn "Amazing Grace" and the modernized version of it by Chris Tomlin "My Chains Are Gone" as he revised it and added to it? Now that's much better running through my head than the previously mentioned one! Today, as you set about to enjoy your weekend, make sure there is lots of music in it. Let it wash over you and fill you with joy. Sing happy songs, silly songs, songs that cause you to ponder as you miss someone. I love "Go Rest High on That Mountain" and "I Drive Your Truck" when I miss Mary. "Stop! In the Name of Love" reminds me of the time me, my mother, and my lovely Aunt Bo sang it on a karaoke machine at my niece Chastity's 16th birthday party. Tommy Roe's "Dizzy" takes me back to when I was a carefree kid in California, singing it as I went 'round and 'round and around in my front yard, holding one of my dolls as we twirled about. "One Touch" also moves me to a deeper reflection of how grateful I am that Jesus indeed touched the hem of my garment and made me whole, reminding me of the time my "Sisters" and I went to see Nicole C. Mullen at a women's conference years ago. As the O'Jays sang, "I love music." Don't you? I'd love to read some of your favorites and why they are so powerful to you so, please, share. Let's pray! Thank You Lord for Your blessings on me. Music: oh how You know I love it! I appreciate this wonderful gift You have provided for me and for so many others, Lord. For those You've blessed with the ability and talents to provide it, I thank You. May they use their voices and musical skills to uplift Your Name is my prayer. And, although You did not see fit to provide me with a tongue that sounds pretty when I sing, I thank You anyways for the ability to have a song in my heart. I'll praise You in my storms and in my daily ways. You are an awesome God and I love You! Amen!

Virg

August 8, 2014 I have this friend named Virginia. I've known her for most of my life. We went to high school together, where basically we were just acquaintances. However, once we went to college, our friendship was forged, and I began the adventure of a lifetime! The next two years were filled with so many new and exciting experiences. Virg faced life head on, embracing each day, and had an exuberance for it that was quite catchy. I idolized her and loved her fiercely. She was the part of me I didn't know was missing--nor existed--and the friendship we shared was one I have always treasured and held dear to my heart. One of the things that made our friendship work so well was our "Let's be honest" talks. We started them in our Freshmen year and had them late at night, in the dark where it was safe to be real with our emotions. We told each other things that no one else knew. Our fears were shared also. But the major thing? Well, we didn't call them "Let's be honest" for nothing. Honesty. Confession. Admission. Denial was not an option. The good, the bad, and the ugly were thrown out in our little dorm room as we evaluated who we were, who we weren't, and who we'd like to be. The things we did to drive each other crazy. The things we needed more of from one another. If one was being "inappropriate" during certain situations, this was addressed. If one was neglecting the other, this too was brought up. Some of the talks were hurtful. Toes and feet and even ankles were stepped upon as we ventured into this relationship head on. If she didn't like something I was doing and thought it harmful to me and my reputation, she had no qualms about telling me so. If I thought she was investing too much of herself for this guy (which really meant that she was spending more time with him than me and my jealousy was taking over) I let her know. In the darkness of that old Edna Moore room, nothing and everything was sacred. When morning came, the brightness of the sun shining was nothing to the happiness in my heart as I felt cleansed from our late night chats. James 5:16 states "Therefore confess your sins to each other..." Virg and I were quite adept at this but sometimes the talks got too scary as we became more honest with ourselves and with each other. We were eighteen years old, and the world was our oyster. While we enjoyed the talks for the most part, their honesty was often painful. How I wish we could have had more of Jesus in us back then so that the rest of the verse "...and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective" could have been implemented. Had we both been more settled in our salvation experience we could have really set the world on fire! That's not to say we didn't talk about Christ or the need for Him in our lives. We did. It just wasn't...it wasn't our time then. In our search for ourselves, we didn't realize the way we do now that had He been invited to our midnight confessions that we could have spared ourselves a lot of grief! That He was the missing third part of our little group. In conclusion, those late night "Let's be honest" confessions were healing times for me. Never before had I had someone love me enough to share my good and bad emotions and not run away screaming. Never before had I had someone care enough about me to call me out when I needed reprimanded but not with violence. Never before had I a friend like Virginia to teach me the ways of Christ without realizing what she was doing so at the time. She was loving me without condemnation, with gentleness and so much patience, and she was setting the bar that no woman has since even come close to for a friendship that has stood the test of time. Although time, distance, and decades have separated us, we still remain friends to this day and as we both have a clearer view of Christ and the way He took such great care of us during those daring days of college, my hope is that the next time we have one of those chats that the prayers we pray for one another will indeed be more powerful and more effective than ever before. Dear Lord, Thank You for Virginia. I had no idea that the girl who I laughed with as a kid in high school would have such a profound effect on me throughout my life. I ask that You bless her, bless her marriage, her family, her kids, and her precious granddaughter. Continue using her to be a breath of fresh air to those she is surrounded by. Keep her healthy and safe --and sane!! But if You don't, will You at least let her room be next to mine at the home our kids threaten us with? Mostly though, Lord, I want to thank You for Your Word that is constantly being proven and standing its own test of time. I have seen the power of friendship and when it is combined with prayer--with You--I have seen its power. May every woman have a Virginia in her life and a Jesus in her heart is my prayer today. Amen.

I Don't Want To Grow Up

July 31, 2014 My grandson is in a near state of depression. Last night, he was just so overwhelmed that he could hardly put a voice to his thoughts. Why? He has a birthday coming up in a few weeks. This will truly be a bittersweet event. Poor guy! He loves parties, loves playing, and loves being...the baby. He has been the baby for the past few years and for most of the years has revelled in this role. Take for instance when it was time to potty train. As I would change his diaper and powder him up, I'd coo to him that in a few more days it'd be time for him to start using the pot like a big boy. He'd smile so sweetly at me and say "No, I'm not." And he didn't. Not in a mean way. He just wasn't ready to let go of this portion of his "youth," the portion that let him be coddled and taken care of. He has a new brother on the way. He's pretty excited about it and has all kinds of plans to be his "protector" and talks of how he will help Mama feed him and play with him. But, somehow in the midst of all of this new baby chatter and his upcoming birthday, the ConMan is fraught. He does not want to grow up. He curls himself around Mama's expanding belly, jockeying for position as he gently rubs the baby, and snuggles ever closer to his nurturer. He has his birthday all planned out. He wants to go to Krispy Kreme and for everyone to bring him orange (his favorite color) presents. He and I planned this a few weeks ago and he refuses to budge on it (much to his parents dismay). He wants his friends to be there to celebrate with him but he does not want to turn four. He just is so sad about this! Can you blame him, folks? I think he has been somehow supernaturally impressed with the fact that growing up is not all that it is cut out to be. Responsibilities. Less play time. Eating vegetables. Going to school. Having to walk without being carried. Being rocked to sleep is so much better! Resting on the top of someone's shoulders is often easier than putting one foot in front of the other. Your food being cut up for you and brought to you is so much nicer than getting it for yourself. Your clothes somehow mysteriously are laid out for you and cleaned without you having to lift a finger to get them to the laundry room (except for those times when you want to help out). Taking nice warm bubble baths and then being wrapped up in a soft towel and comforting arms are hard things to beat! Yeah, if it was up to my darling gson, he would never get older. I Peter 2:2 says "As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby..." He likes the sincere milk, the purity of it, the uncomplicated portion that he is allowed so that he may grow--but not grow up. And, if it were up to me, I'd keep him at this age. Sweet. Needy. Dependent. Loving. Able to be mended by a few smooches and hugs--and a couple of jelly beans don't hurt either. Sigh. Life comes at us too quickly sometimes and then...and then we are looking back at it, wondering why we were in such a hurry, why we didn't slow down and remain kids for longer. When did we become old? When did our sunny dispositions that all could be made right with a cookie and a kiss change? Why can't we just play all day and not do chores? Today I encourage you to be a kid. Laugh. Do something silly. Get chocolate all over you and use the back of your arm to spread it even more messily around you. Don't pick your "toys" up and put away for later: take them out now! Take a good long nap after hearing a good story to encourage your dreams to be filled with adventures and far off places. Let someone else wait on you and cut your food up for you. If they are strong enough, let them carry you around for a bit and maybe even swing you in their arms (or take you to the playground if this option doesn't pan out). Holler "Wheeeee" and rejoice in this day that the Lord has made. Too soon it will be time to be an adult again. Too soon it will be that your body doesn't have the energy to frolic. Too soon the cares of this world will infringe upon your calm. Go find a kid and play with him or her today. I'll bet you will be glad you did! Let's pray! Dear Lord, how my heart aches for this child who sees so clearly that being older is a lot of work and takes away too much fun. Help me as his granny to show him that there is still a lot of fun to be had and that getting older isn't so bad. Help me to instill in him love and carefreeness (I think I just made up a new word, Father). And mostly, help me to enjoy this little child You have placed in my life and see the world through his eyes rather than the cynical and often jaded ones that are on my face. You have provided us with great beauty and life. May I--and my "baby"--enjoy it to the full is my hope. In Jesus' name I ask. Amen.

Step Into The Water

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

You say you are over it and you mean those words. You say that you have forgiven that one who wronged you and you meant that too. You even say you wish that soul well and are able to convince others--as well as yourself--that your intentions are above board. But then... Then comes a picture, a phrase overheard, or a situation on a show you are watching or a book you are reading and the hurt comes back. The whole scene replays itself in your mind and you are there again, vividly recalling what this action was that caused you so much angst. Friend, it's okay. It's okay to be shaken, stirred even (contrary to what James Bond might say). Things like this keep us on our toes. Reminders of past haunts nudge us to keep a forgiving spirit and a tender heart so that we don't, in return, repeat these harmful ways on those whom we hold dear. The devil will try to tell you that you aren't being Christlike, that you are still chained to your past because of the evils that lurked there. He's wrong. He's a liar. His goal is to kick you while you are down but guess what? I know Someone Who can pick you right back up! Jesus told us, in Matthew 11:28-30, to "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden , and I will give you rest . Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Do you see it? His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Light. Not gone, for it is still there. But He's willing to share it with you; carry it for you, if you will give it to Him. Go ahead and feel those hurts again. They won't completely go away. But there is rest for your soul when you trust in the One Who offers peace. Let's pray! Dear Lord, today some of us are burdened by the past. Whether it be a relationship that resulted in unfair treatment, a co-worker who let us down, a picture of one whom we once cared so deeply for laughing and having a gay old time while we wallow in our self-pities because we aren't a part of their lives anymore. Maybe it's over a loved one who has gone home as Chonda Pierce is experiencing and writing about so movingly. Lord, the scenarios vary but the one standard that can make them easier to live with is that You will, that You ARE there to be beside us, leaving us as no one else can. You promised! Your Word declares You will NEVER leave us nor forsake us. Be our Friend today, Lord. Be our Burden Carrier and our Peace. I ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Struggles

July 24, 2014 Do you ever feel like you are bothering God; that your prayers, your needs aren't as important as those of some of His other children? That God really doesn't have time to worry if you are going to overcome--with His help (that you are afraid to ask for)--the little struggles you face each day? If you do, you are wrong. Are you a parent or around kids much? What are their needs? Let's see: there are the basic ones of shelter, food, and clothing. They need to be trained/educated. They need to have boundaries put before them so that they don't stray into territories that they just aren't ready for. But what about those other little needs they have? In their minds, everything is a priority, an issue that needs constant and immediate attention. For example, each time my gson passes the jelly bean dispenser, he says--in an astonished voice--"I haven't had a jelly bean today!" As though the world would just stop if this issue wasn't taken care of unless the suddenly starving kid gets one or two of these necessary vegetables. Does he need a jelly bean each day? Of course he does! He needs not only the nutrition this bean provides but also needs to know that his daily life just won't be the same, won't be as good, won't be as fruitful without this little treat. He also needs to know that his need is noticed by the one who can take care of it. He needs the affirmation that approval is needed so that he can go about his daily business in a better manner than if the jelly bean was not a part of it. And, there are also some days, when more than one bean is needed. Shouldn't he be able to ask for one or two more just in case they are--maybe not needed as much as the first one but--they just tasted so good that he couldn't help but ask for more? Kind of reminds me of that verse "Oh taste and see that the Lord is good." So, what is your jelly bean today and/or most days? Is it for a loving heart? A patient spirit? Is it for a tender soul that is more aware of the needs of others rather than your own? Is it for just the strength to get up each day and face what life has for you? Is it for the car to start, the kids to mind, the husband to remember to pick up a jug of milk on the way home? Is it for that little pain in your body that is "no big deal" when so many others have worse ailments? Just what is it that keeps you from being better because you didn't ask for a little help from the God Who holds it all in His hands? Jelly beans, while tiny little things that don't take much effort to provide, are usually a source of happiness for most. Sure, compared to a full-course meal, they aren't as sustaining but...they are necessary for keeping one balanced and whole. How else would we stay so sweet? Let's pray! Dear Lord, we need more jelly beans. Whether they come as bits of tolerance, whether it's just the feeling of completeness they give us when we are alone in the crowd, or whether it's the little kick we need to help us swallow the rest of the meal that we must eat each day, we need more jelly beans. Help us to not be afraid to ask for them but to indeed be amazed that this little bite of joy is so easy to be acquired if we will just ask for it each day. Also Lord, I pray, that we won't be slack in asking from You the things we think we need that perhaps others will tell us are a bother to You. Just as I get a feeling of satisfaction for making my grandson smile and to see the delight on his face as he partakes of the little treat, You too enjoy seeing Your children experience joy. Remind us that You aren't too busy or will think less of us when we ask for our vegetables in life. Thank You! You are a wonderful God!

Write On?

Yesterday my internet was down. All day. Sigh. I had my day all planned out and was relying on doing some long put-off work on my computer but you know what? It's awfully hard to get things in order when your things you need to organize are on Google Docs and you have no way of accessing them. So, I did what any woman with half of a brain in her would: I went to the library to use their computers! I was going to get so much work done after all, I decided, in spite of this minor setback. It would just not be from the comfort of my own home. But alas! When I got to the Hudson Branch, all of the computers were being used. Errrrrrr. Okay, Stef: deep breath. Why not just go to the main branch? Surely they will have some computers open. Great plan! I grabbed a quick chicken sandwich from Burger King, went to Staples to mail a package and thought that I may as well grab come folders to put my work in. Finally, armed with 14 folders in 7 different colors, I was able to rock and roll! I made my way to a computer on the end, near the window, and with lots of room to spread my things out. I got one month's worth of blogs printed out completely (thankfully, I chose this month so that I wasn't too overwhelmed). It takes a lot of time to go back and put them in the right format for printing--something I am trying to teach myself to do correctly the first time so that there isn't so much follow up work to do that often seems to get put on the back burner. "Do it right the first time" is my mantra to my gsons. Guess it's time for ol' Granny to practice what she preaches, huh? Anyway, what does this all have to do with the Faith Challenge posted on the picture? Plenty! Last night, I could not sleep. So, from midnight to around 5:00 am, I went to my Pretty Purple Room and reviewed and organized my blogs that I had printed. I had several already done from previous times. As I held those blogs in my hand, as I checked off my list of which ones were done, done correctly, and which ones needed some more work, the feeling was...was...serene. Here, in my two hands, were words that had been carefully poured out of my soul. Some blogs were only a page while others were three and occasionally four in length. A phrase here and there would catch my attention and I would linger in thought over what made me write those at that point in time. This encouraged me to pull out my handwritten journals in my drawer (if you knew how bad my handwriting was, you'd see why word processing is such an avenue of help for me!). As I poured over those words, those insights into my soul, I was reminded about how good God has been to me, how good He is still to me, and how far He has brought me in the (nearly) past two years since the death of my mother. In closing, I want to encourage you to take this faith challenge today. Write someone a handwritten note. Something that they can touch, that they can pull out and read and re-read when they need a pick-me-up. It doesn't have to be long and it doesn't have to be on fancy stationery. Don't let the devil use that trick to sway you from participating. Just sit down right now and write. I daresay many of you--like me--have a treasure box of old notes, cards, letters that you have saved for personal reasons. Sometimes just seeing the handwriting of the one who wrote you these words is enough to warm your heart, to give you a smile, to make you feel peace. Let's keep that love flowing, shall we? When technology works, it's great but when it doesn't and we have to go back to our real books, our real paper and pencil, and our own devices for entertainment, reading notes from friends is a great way to pass that time--even if that friend is yourself! PM me if you want my address so that you can send me a note of encouragement! I will gladly take them! And send me yours too. I'd like to send you a personal message as well. Let's pray! Oh Father, You above all of us have written us a personal and private note, words to encourage us, words to inspire us, and words to tell us how very much You love us. Thank You for Your Word, God! How precious It is to me and how I take It for granted too often while using modern technology to do studies and such. The feeling I get when I hold my Bible in my hands is so sweet, so affirming. Sure, it's easier to find things on my Kindle or on the computer but when I linger over well-loved passages, over tear-stained verses, or lock onto scriptures that demand my whole attention there is just nothing like it. Help me to be more giving with my words, Lord. I used to be so much better about letting those I care about know that I care enough to just sit down once in a while and put those feelings on paper, paper that they can hold and could take out when they needed my far-off touch. May I and the ones whom You inspire take some time today to do this for others again is my prayer. Amen.

The Heat of the Night

July 7, 2014 Do you remember that tv show from the late 80s-early 90s "In the Heat of the Night" that starred Carroll O'Connor and Howard E. Rollins? Steve and I used to watch it way back then and--since we made the move back to antenna and got rid of cable--rediscovered it this weekend. Often tense, always dealing with some sort of explosive emotion, this show never ceased to make one...feel. The episode we watched last night was no exception. Titled "The Family Secret," IMDB provided the following synopsis: A magnificent statue of a Confederate officer is unveiled in the Sparta town square, the gift of the well respected Merrill family, Stuart and Bernice, who are in attendance with their granddaughter Mary Lynn. Bill Gillespie and his inamorata, Joanne St. John, are there along with Bubba Skinner. Embarrassingly, Claudia Merrill, Stuart and Bernice's daughter and Mary Lynn's mother, is not at the ceremony because she is "indisposed" (drunk) at home. That evening Stuart is murdered in his art glass studio, which is a shambles of broken art objects. Gillespie and Virgil Tibbs question Bernice, who blames Claudia. At the police station, Claudia confesses to the murder, but refuses to reveal her motive. Against Gillespie's advice, Virgil probes the case, which proves more sordid than anyone imagines." Sordid indeed. Thinking I might should stop watching because I was afraid I knew where this was headed, I found myself mesmerized. Seeing the pain in my eyes as he too recalled how closely--too closely--I was acquainted with this storyline, Steve even offered to turn it off during a particularly relatable portion dealing with "mommy knows but pretends that she doesn't" followed by an "it's your fault for being attractive and enticing him" scene. Sad sigh. Once the memories start they are so hard to shut off. At the end of the show when the murderer turned out to be another one of this "great man's" victims, my heart was in shreds. As the two so-very-sad women clung together in mirrored grief and heartbreak, I internally processed the building rage inside of me as I recollected my own history of abuse. Sadly though, I didn't have a comforter to help me through it (at that time, anyways). The young girl said something and I have for the past hour or so tried to find the script but cannot. It went something along the lines of--as she and her mother were discussing what innocence and happiness were--that "he took that from us, didn't he?" Isn't it great, just absolutely wonderful (and yes, that is sarcasm you are reading here), how a tv show that took place decades ago can still have such a powerful effect today? As I listened to such lines as "He just loved you so much he had to show you," or "He said he'd never do it again" flooding my living room, I nearly became sick. It's bad enough to be abused; it's so much worse when there are other family members who know of the abuse but would rather turn a blind eye as to admit the truth of it. My mother's favorite line was "If he ever tries something like that on Billy {my brother} then we will leave." Nah, I don't have any self-esteem issues from that statement. Okay, enough dwelling on the past. My point for this blog is that sexual abuse is much more in the social eye today than it was back in the day of this tv show--although shows like this impacted it in ways for others to finally be free to share their stories, share their shames, and share their victories as they went from guilt-ridden souls to ones that were now victorious. I am saddened each day to hear of sex-trafficking, child abuse, and the effects that pornography have on a daily basis. I am disgusted by tv shows that promote teen-aged sex as the norm rather than as the exception. I despise shopping for clothes when most stores seem to only offer shirts and bottoms that reveal more than is necessary. And dance studios!! They make our sweet little girls dress in provocative clothing, wear make-up that ages these little darlings into young sex kittens, and dance in ways that are enticing. Many folks remark on how "cute" this is but I...My heart just cries and bemoans the fact that parents have gotten caught up in the societal ritual that this is acceptable and on the other hand they fuss about how warped this world is. The world isn't making our kids vulnerable: we are. And it needs to stop. Sigh. If only people could see the long-term effects of this type of behavior. If only they would pay more attention to what goes on in their own homes before letting their kids into the homes of others. Yes, I know I can be prudish but it just isn't cute to me to see photographs of little girls dressed as...as provocative young women. It just isn't nice to see sweet, innocent children gyrating their hips in dances that are the latest craze. Don't even get me started on the things that I see from videos posted about Zumba classes! Please: ladies, if you think you need this type of exercise to stay fit, please don't post it for all of your friends and their significant others to see. Once an image is in the mind, it's awfully hard to discard. Do you really want your friends' mates looking at you and remembering the way you were shaking it on the dance floor and now are in front of them at church or other social functions, acting all dignified? No, I didn't think you did. Okay. I'll get off of my self-made pedestal for now. To wrap it all up, I guess my point today is that we are responsible. We have to be responsible! Now, don't twist my words and say that if you dress in a way that is enticing that "you are asking for it" because that is not at all what I am saying. While we cannot be held accountable for what others are thinking, we must be aware of things that we do that encourage lewd thoughts. Was I dressing too femininely when my dad tried stuff on me? Not at all. On the contrary, I made myself as unattractive as possible, trying not to do anything that would make him notice me. What I am saying is that if you have daughters, nieces, granddaughters, or other young women in your care then don't teach them to dance provocatively, to put on make up too soon, to wear clothes that are not appropriate. Keep them innocent for as long as you can. Yes, teach them about the evils that are out there but don't teach them how to provoke those evils. Keep a watchful eye on them--and on those men you let into your world. It's not a safe place. The family secrets are out now. Don't you wish you didn't know?

Imitators of God

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

I've Got The Music In Me

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

Dirty Laundry (?)

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

I wonder...

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

I'm Not Really Mad at You

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

The foolish things of man

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

Sing, Sing a Song

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

Kick 'em When They're Up, Kick 'em When They're Down

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

And the walls come tumbling down

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

Breath Of Life Daily: Made To Be Different

Breath Of Life Daily: Made To Be Different: by Stefanie Hutcheson My former brother-in-law once told me I couldn't be happy in any job for long. He said even if I had a jo...

The wise in heart...

According to Webster, wise means: 1 a : characterized by wisdom : marked by deep understanding, keen discernment, and a capacity for sound judgment b : exercising or showing sound judgment : prudent 2 a : evidencing or hinting at the possession of inside information : knowing b : possessing inside information c : crafty, shrewd d : aware of or informed about a particular matter —usually used in the comparative in negative constructions with the I like 2a for this verse! The definition of discerning is: showing insight and understanding : discriminating Pleasant is defined as: 1: having qualities that tend to give pleasure : agreeable 2 : having or characterized by pleasing manners, behavior, or appearance Lastly, the definition for promote is: 1 a : to advance in station, rank, or honor : raise b : to change (a pawn) into a piece in chess by moving to the eighth rank c : to advance (a student) from one grade to the next higher grade 2 a : to contribute to the growth or prosperity of : further b : to help bring (as an enterprise) into being : launch I used to be an English teacher. Words were my forte and I loved showing off how many of them I knew. Trouble was, the students I was privileged to teach weren’t as familiar with these words as I was. They weren’t used to the deeper meaning of things and in my pride, I held that against them. I was so caught up in making a name for myself that I wound up doing just that only in a way that wasn’t quite what I had imagined. Surprisingly, I am no longer a teacher. I wasn’t pleasing enough with my words for them to have the effect that they should have. My heart was all about Stef and bringing these lower beings into my heightened sense of wisdom. Yeah, I am throwing up in my mouth a little too. Through the years, the Lord has tempered me. He has shown me that it’s all well and good to know what to say, what to teach, what to share. But the method I use is what is going to attract—or alienate—people to me. My words are to be pleasing, to be sweet, to be kind, to be full of grace. I am to season my speech and to talk in a way that shows folks that I understand their stage of life, their way of talking and learning, and their way of listening. Who wants to talk to someone who is so full of him/herself that there isn’t room to give another’s opinion? My wisdom came at a great price. I had devoted myself to teaching. I put it in front of so many things, including my family but most importantly, in front of my God. Teaching was my god and like all other false deities, it turned into ashes. That was several years ago. Since then, I strive to be careful with my words. I no longer have that high opinion of myself that I was the one to set the world on fire. Yeah, burn scars hurt worse than just about anything and I have my share of them to prove that it was me who was in the hot seat. Nowadays I have the privilege of being a grandmother to two young boys. They look at me with genuine love and pay attention to the words I speak. If Granny says it it must be true! Therefore, I try to pay very careful attention to what comes out of my mouth. I talk on their level, explaining things in a manner that they can understand and explain back to me. Guess what? Success! Ahh, if only I had had them first, before those lofty ideas that I was teaching material promoted themselves in my stubborn mind. The wise in heart are called discerning, and pleasant words promote instruction. Yep, that’s me. Wise in heart. Older and wiser! My nice words, “and the sweetness of the lips” (as the King James Version cites it) go much further than those puffed up ones I used back in the day. My grandsons are learning. I am learning. Guess the old adage is true, when reworded to suit my situation, that is. You can teach an old dog new tricks! Besides, having to ask for salt for the big feet I often placed in my mouth due to my lack of care with my words was making my blood pressure too high! June 19, 2013

A New Heart

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

I've been searching...

Post by Wandering Through the Bible.

Empty Garden

April 12, 2014

"It's funny how one insect can damage so much grain." These words from Elton John's ballad and tribute to John Lennon rang true in my head yesterday morning on my way to work.

I pushed "replay" and listened to the song again. And again. The words flowed over me and it was as though I could hear Jesus saying to me:

"And I've been knocking but no one answers

And I've been knocking most all the day

Oh and I've been calling oh hey hey Johnny

Can't you come out to play?"

I replaced "Johnny" with my name. I heard Jesus whispering to me that I had been too serious lately, that I needed to play, in the garden--the empty garden--with just Him.

"But Lord," I whispered back, "why is my garden empty? Why have my works produced no grain?"

"It's funny how one insect can damage so much grain." The song played on. What was the insect that damaged my produce, what was the thing that caused my garden to not prosper as I knew it should have? Was it my pride? My being "ahead of my time" for the things I had to share? My being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

The song continued and the tears, hot and furious, poured out of my eyes. I reflected on some of my many efforts at sharing the things Christ has shared with me; how some were successful while others tended to be disregarded by the masses that I was so carefully trying to cultivate. And then I realized: I did plant some seeds. I did do some watering. But it's God--it's YOU, God--that must provide the increase. My garden is empty--in some ways--but it won't always be so. One day I shall see the fruits of my labor and realize the time I invested in trying so (too?) desperately to share my faith was not in vain. While saddened that I may not get to see it this side of heaven, my gentle hubby reminded me last night that it's not about me and if I could just keep that in my head, then my rewards will be so much greater. God will do with my blog, with my stories, with my life what He wills. "Remember Who you are writing for, Stef," he told me. Sigh.

Dear God,

I ask Your forgiveness this morning as I have found myself once again caught up in the flesh. My intentions are pure and my motives are sweet ones. Yet....yet I started making it about me, worrying that I wouldn't be published, worrying that not enough folks were reading my blog, worrying that if I didn't self-promote then the world would just be floundering about, not knowing what to do with itself unless the great and mighty Stef showed them the way.

What a disgrace I am! What pride I have that needs to be shoveled out of my garden. What pruning needs to be done so that my tree and vines can grow, can flourish, through YOUR increase. Not mine.

If I never have another story published, if no one ever reads my blogs, help me God to not care, to not feel diminished but to keep writing for You. For You, Lord God. You are my audience and it is Your approval and commendation I seek most. Please take away my pride and humble me to be Your servant is my prayer this morning. I ask it in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

I'm sorry but...

Wandering Through the Bible I haven't written about my mother in quite a while. However, when I saw this picture, my mind was flooded with memories of when she would say these words to me: "I'm sorry but..." No comma after the "sorry" part to indicate that there was truth to the statement of being apologetic. No, rather it was all one, long, convoluted sentence that pointed blame back at me instead of offering an apology for the things she did that offended me. There was no real truth in the two words that began the conversation. Sigh. It's been about 18 months now since Momma passed. I've made my peace--finally--with the things that were done to me that hindered me for so long. It was a long, slow, painful, soul-searching event. But through the grace of God, through the prayers of friends and family, and through many long, sleepless nights and/or dreams filled with fantasies of how growing up with a loving mother should have been, I made it through the rain. Barry Manilow would be so proud! I miss my mom. I miss the times when we did have a good relationship. I miss the times when I felt she was the greatest woman in the world. I regret that she wasn't the woman she should have been and that she had gotten to meet my grandsons. How sad it is, I've commiserated many times, that her house wasn't the one we all ran to as my siblings and our children, our grandkids, and our spouses celebrated life together. Nieces, nephews, and cousins should have been playing and laughing and rolling on her front yard, climbing in the barns, sharing secrets down by the creek. Such a wasted life, hers was. And mine too. My grandson shouldn't sporadically ask me, "Why didn't your mother love you, Granny?" But, the story doesn't have to have an unhappy ending. Many lessons come from bad experiences and I must say, I have been the student of those teachings. Time takes its own sweet time and my hope is that, since I am in a much better place than I was for too long, one day, one day I will see my grandchildren meeting their cousins and aunts and uncles. They may just roam those former tobacco fields, maybe even sled down the hills that I grew up on, and forge new and wonderful relationships that generated from this one woman who birthed four children, three of whom are still alive, and forever bonded by blood. I'd rather write "bonded by love" but... we're not there yet. So, in conclusion, there was a lot to be sorry for in the time that we were allowed together, my mother and I. Too much of it was carelessly tossed away and cannot ever be regained. Am I sorry? Oh yeah! My regrets are many and some hurts are still healing, yet my hope remains that all was not lost, that the good times can be reminisced over while new memories will be made with the ones she left behind, memories that are helpful and not hurtful. Memories that only make me cry happy tears rather than bitter ones. Memories that, in spite of the past, the future can be one of love with no excuses, no buts, and far fewer regrets unless they are that we all couldn't get together more often. It can happen! Will it? Tune in and see! Dear Lord, as my eyes are still leaking, I reach out to You for comfort. How my mother hurt me, Lord! How I hurt her! We shamed You so with our inability to forgive and to let love conquer all. I don't want my legacy to be one of shame nor one that tears apart my family, God. Please help me each minute of my life to be mindful of the words I say, the actions I display, and the favoritism shown that makes one feel more highly while the other feels forlorn. May I not be that way! May I not love one more than the other! May I not confuse, confound, or discredit any of my family and make them feel unloved or not good enough. May I reflect You, Lord, in all of the people I love--in truth. Oh God! My soul is so sad for the loss of what should have been. I know the past cannot be changed so my hope is that the future, the present, the now will be better for these hard and painful lessons learned. If it be Your will, reunite my siblings and me. Give our kids the opportunity to be better than the sorry examples we have been. I have great-nieces and great-nephews that I have never seen, never held, never smooched on. I want them to know me, to know that Granny Stef or Great-Aunt Stef or whatever it is that want to call me will be a welcomed presence in their lives, one who loves without holding back, and a woman that they can always count on showing them unconditional love. I ask this with my whole heart, in the name of Jesus. Amen.