Does Anything Stay the Same?

From She Reads Truth today..."As children, we assumed everything was permanent and nothing would ever change. Of course, we were wrong." In the reading for today, this writer (there is a group of female writers so I don't know the name of this particular contributor or I would give her name) presents the idea that God has given us reminders of His faithfulness, of things that we can always count on in His created world. There are some certainties in life, just not the ones we would like to count on in our personal lives. They are on a much grander scale. Changing seasons, rising and setting of the sun, tide coming in and going out, cycles of life in the animal world, water turning to ice at 32 degrees for starters. (Some of these mentioned by the author referred to, some by me.) These occurrences, you see, are not determined by personal choices or decisions. And so they are dependable and constant. We could say the sun will faithfully come up each morning and go down each evening. The leaves will be faithful to change colors in the Fall, drop to the ground leaving bare branches in Winter and bloom again in Spring. Faithfully the waves crash against the rocks and slide across the sand only to wash back out to sea again, over and over without end. I can look forward to the wildflowers never failing in their faithful blanketing of our fields and sides of roadways every March. Will my children be faithful, will I? Will those I love and cherish never disappoint me or I them? Will my health stay strong, the health of my family and friends? Accidents not happen, mistakes, failures, disasters, trauma to those I know, to me? Will our jobs be secure, our finances sure, our homes and travels safe, our relationships strong? The answer to all these questions is a resounding no. No certainty, no assurance, no permanence. Not the kind we would love to have. Not anywhere close to the certainty of the sun rising today and tomorrow and every day afterwards. As the writer of She Reads Truth for today says, as the Word from which she gleaned this truth states many times, the only unchanging, sure and dependable, utterly faithful one is He who created, sustains and speaks to us through this great and wonderful world surrounding us. He even tells us nothing is sure, all will fade away, but we don't really grasp its meaning, do we? He and His words are really the only unchanging, dependable, faithful, sure and certain pegs to hang our hopes on. Only. Really. Life teaches us the truth of what He trys to tell us no matter how hard we fight against it. So, let us look to the skies, to the trees, the waters, fields and hills and look for the great faithfulness, surety, constancy, security, love, wonder and dependability we deeply long for and be encouraged. While looking to the future day when with this Faithful One we will stand forever in only permanence. Then our "childhood assumptions" will really be true. Really. Only. (Thank you She Reads Truth for the reminder of this truth today and for the encouragement of where to look for this kind of faithfulness.)

Gratitude and Thankfulness

What's the difference between these two? Is there any? Gratitude is defined as a "quality of thankfulness". The words "pleased, relieved, aware and appreciative, grateful" accompany a definition of thankful while thankfulness is defined as a "feeling or expression of gratitude". I like these words quality of, feeling, expression, aware and appreciative. My favorite communicator of real life faith these days, Ann Voskamp says, "When you're looking for joy, you will always find it hiding in your gratitude." And "Thanksgiving to God is the only thing that heals our view of the world." I would expand that "world" to not only the larger one but also to our own small corner. I make it my aim these days to live in an attitude of gratefulness. Now I can think of this description, having a quality of thankfulness. I strive to be aware and appreciative. And I seek to be more joyful. Since the two are related, interconnected, can't really have one without the other, I'm in good company. Today when I am faced with the choice, let me choose to be grateful, to be content, to live out of thankfulness and therefore keep joy from escaping so easily but continuing to reside within.

Contrasts

     A family just laid their mother to rest, the house is too quiet, the surreal feeling blankets all while life demands to go on. Two dear young-twentys are living and working in Israel and Palestine during this violent, chaotic, deeply unsettling time and my heart is heavy, tears reside under the surface with the lump that attempts to rise in my throat so often in these days. Talking to my Rwandan friend early this morning, listening to a tear-strained voice describe sickness, financial needs, house construction problems, graduation hinderances, and the tragic rape, pregnancy and possible marriage arrangement being forced upon a young teacher and friend, those tears spilled forth for yet other reasons. This appears to be that "time to cry" that Solomon speaks about. A time to cry with those who mourn. A son-in-law hears the news that the wife of his college roommate was killed in a late night car accident, my too-young daughter and her husband visit a funeral home on a Sunday afternoon when families are swimming and enjoying BBQ in many other pockets of our community. We have spent two out of the past four Saturday afternoons at Hill Country Cemetery, two Friday nights at funeral homes. Every day, the news is full of death and dying from hatred and revenge. Knowing people who live in these areas of the world brings the news closer in, harder to escape. Thousands of children are fleeing Honduras, El Salvador and Guatemala due to the violence there, coming across the border into Texas creating a humanitarian crisis. As a mother, do you risk your child being raped, trafficked or killed or do you risk their life by sending them through an escape route into America?
     In my corner of the world, we go for a refreshing dip in the river on these hot summer days. Listening to music at any local venue, enjoying good food in the company of good friends, we look around and declare "Life is good!" We celebrate the Fourth of July with small town parades and fireworks surrounded by those we cherish. Fears of bombs, missiles, attack, kidnapping and rape are far from our minds. Birthdays, weddings, babys to be born, anniversaries, moving into new homes, graduations, vacations, new jobs and promotions, retirement fill our calendars with celebrations. A new movie to watch, a bestseller to read, a concert to see, coffee shop dates and shopping sprees. Delight abounds with grandchildren, family gathered around, visitors from out of town or out of country. We watch a group of twelve bucks, with some does and fawns scattered amongst them, coming for water while we eat our dinner in front of the big window. They come often. Our view is really spectacular. Comfort abounds, satisfaction runs deep. Love surrounds.
     What to do with such a huge contrast. Gratitude running side by side with compassion, heartache, and sorrow. Wonder eclipsed by suffering. Pain swallowed up in contentment. Tears from sorrow, tears from laughter. The beauty and warmth of a fire leaving us with the smell of a campfire permeating our clothes and skin. Both. And.

Showing Up

     Her hair was mussed, mascara ran down her face, clothes sagged, head bent, she came to us crying out for help. We sprang into action while remaining reposed. Calls were made, arrangements secured, necessary conversations took place. We transferred her into good hands. Six days later, her voice reached us through the telephone lines bringing hope, deep sighs of satisfaction and goodness. That day also happened to be her birthday. Did she receive a gift better than any other? She certainly gave us one.
     When does life begin to take a curve down such a dark, scary, danger-around-every corner path that one can't ever find their way home from completely? As a baby new to the world, when trauma defines life, in an instant of horror, slowly from constant disappointment, after years of all the above? And how do I walk alongside one who already has many constant companions...fear, pain, rejection, sorrow and loneliness to name a few? I am outnumbered. My compassion, acceptance, listening ear and invitation into community for so many hours a day doesn't seem enough. The other voices drown out my own.
     Perhaps the answer lies in showing up. Day after day, year after year. I'm at least one constant in a sea of change. My tears mix with those that fall in sorrow, my laughter joins the chuckles of others, celebrating successes, mourning losses, empathizing with frustrations, attempting to dignify humanity. Does it make a difference? Will they remember?
     The sun is shining again after a slight rain followed the darkening skies and blowing wind. I could have missed it if I wasn't in the right place at the right time. A lesson there...of course. Busy bakers can be heard in the kitchen, photos on my desk remind me of three wonderful places in the world I've had the privilege of visiting as I glance their way. An email alets me to the news that I forgot to show up to call the birthday bingo game I volunteer for once a month. I will need to keep holding at bay the thoughts assaulting me, the pictures in my mind of everyone sitting in the room at the tables all ready with their cards looking forward to my arrival any minute. What an awful thought that I disappoint others too. A necessary ingredient to add to my wrestling through the disappointments of life that I had not remembered to include until just now. Great. New insights can be welcome guests or intruding strangers.
     Pieces of life strung together like so many twinkling lights hung from trees over a banqueting farm table set in simple elegance in the backyard. Always in need of untangling after a year in storage. Holding no beauty just lying in the box, only full of wonder when hung just right, plugged into the power source and surrounded by darkness. A puzzle unfinished, a tapestry half-woven, a painting waiting for color on its easel, a house or road under construction. Always in process, one finished and another begun, the cycle goes on unbroken.

And the old girl at the cruddy stove weeps a bit and is not ashamed. She is only a longing.
I once saw a picture of a girl.
She’d taken chalk and drawn a picture on the concrete of her mother, so she could see her mother right there.
And then she’d taken off her shoes, like she knew it’s all holy ground, and she’d crawled up to where the heart would beat —  and she’d fallen asleep next to a love like that.
Her mother drawn all around her.

There is a way of seeing, so that you can behold Him right here.
I clean the stove, the kitchen, with no shoes on.  Who needs shoes? There is glory in the light, in the crusty frying pan, even in impossibly caked-on egg splatter.
There is a way to live that sees how He is drawn all around you. Glory. 
And we are held.
Ann Voskamp

      Fall comes ever so slowly to South Texas. Cooler temperatures, a breeze in the air, books and coffee pot in hand heading out to the guesthouse porch...a delightful half hour or so, then here comes the mosquitos, the breeze is no more, shedding my leggings, back into the house I go. At least I got a short walk in this morning before church when it was the coolest time of the day. Upon my return home, walking onto my front porch, I heard the noise of dropping acorns from the oak tree nearby. The continual sound which was a little bit different caused me to take notice. I went back to look up into the tree to discover a squirrel busily eating away at a big acorn. Pieces of the shell were falling to the ground as he gnawed on his treasure. Yes! Fall is really coming to my patch of the world.                              
     Pumpkins are for sale at the local grocery store. I'm tempted, but it's too early. My granddaughter announced that snow was on it's way when she felt the first change in the air and noticed the clouds moving across the blue sky. I did add a few leaves from past Fall seasons in Kentucky, North Carolina and even England to my heart garland that has graced my fireplace mantle since February's Valentine's Day. I liked it so much that I've kept it right where it is. That's the extent of hints of the approaching season around here. Nonetheless, today IS officially the first day of Fall. We are more than ready for you. Come on in and make yourself at home!

An Endless Pot of Coffee

     Since I have been eliminating caffeine from my diet, I made a pot of decaf on Sunday morning. It is now Thursday morning, and it still sits on my stovetop! Serious, refined coffee drinkers would think this is disgusting I'm sure. But I also have a very hard time wasting anything. And it was a lot of coffee. Having just returned home from my morning walk, I have a tall British mug of iced coffee (actually more soy milk than coffee) beside me instead of hot. Perfect. Because it seems there is always coffee remaining in this pot, I have lovingly called it my "endless pot of coffee". Sounded like a good title for a little writing piece, so here I am!
     Ever so often, I have a dream in which I come out to the parking lot--this time I had just seen a musical--and find my car is missing. I proceed to search everywhere and then to get help, call the police, try to reach a family member (usually Scott) but to no avail. I wake up frustrated and a bit angry. We're supposed to wake up refreshed and rested, right? Well, not today. Just thinking about it brings back some unwelcome feelings, so I will move on. I do wonder what these dreams could tell me about myself though. If I could figure that out, perhaps I could work on changing it and get rid of these kinds of dreams altogether.
     Due to my rude awakening this morning, I grabbed a new book I checked out at the library which is set in France and delved into it. So far, delightful. The Dressmaker by Elizabeth Oberbeck (her first novel) took me into a wonderful dressmaker's shop 30 miles north of Paris and introduced me to splendid characters. Much better than wandering the streets of Austin seeking help for a stolen car!
     Another book I am reading is by my friend Shawn Achor. You must get it. Before Happiness is his second book just out this month. It follows The Happiness Advantage, a fascinating read with principles I want to adopt, practice and live by. 
     Work is calling, so time to head that way. It's been good to be here for awhile. Too many days have passed since I have taken up pen and paper, so to speak. 
     Next time I park my car in a large lot, I will look for the closest light pole to park under if it's dark or the space nearest the building. Better yet, but much more difficult to achieve (maybe), I will work on dispelling any fears that could be behind these distressing dreams. 
     







     
     

     

Journalist Amanda Lindhout spent 15 brutal months in captivity in Somalia. Karen's father committed suicide when she was 10, her husband was continually unfaithful over 11 years of marriage leaving her with syphilis upon divorce and the man she fell in love with was gay and died in an airplane crash 13 years later. And yet these 2 women I have briefly read about this morning have "chosen" (key word here) to forgive, to have a positive attitude, to focus on "the best" and to be content. Wow. Amazing. How? Authors Dr. Steve Stephens and LPC Pam Vredevelt believe we can "choose to be positive and optimistic." "Optimism can be learned, pursued and embraced". "Our contentment is not based upon our circumstances; it is based upon our choices." Really?! Sign me up for that class! They encourage us to "seek what is good and positive, chase it down and don't let it escape." When it comes to forgiveness, they say, "Forgiveness and letting go of anger are one and the same. (That's a new thought.) Forgiveness is an intentional choice of the will that encompases a process. As we practice the work of letting go of our anger, we discover more and more that forgivenes and healing are one." Much more good stuff is in their book The Wounded Woman, Hope and Healing for Those Who Hurt. Amanda Lindhout wrote a book about her captivity in Somalia entitled A House in the Sky to be released in September. I read about her in the New York Times online edition on Wednesday.
So...I am determined to choose everyday to Forgive, Pursue Optimism and Be Content. For I have NOTHING to forgive compared to these 2 women and many more I am thinking about as I sit here reflecting this afternoon.We'll see how I do in the weeks to come. I really want to "learn" this art. Talk about learning something new...

     One of the reasons I like to read so much is the wonderful ways people express things, describe things, put words on feelings. Many times, I write them down. Here are some excerpts I recorded in May 2013 from Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry. 

"I sit and let the quiet come to me. It doesn't come right away. I have to quiet myself before I can hear the quiet of the place, and a car passing along the road or an airplane flying over makes it harder. But I listen and wait, and at last it comes."
"Of all the times with the children, those are the ones I love best to remember, when they were still young enough to live free in their imagination."
"I began to trust the world again, not to give me what I wanted, for I saw that it could not be trusted to do that, but to give unforseen goods and pleasures that I had not thought to want."
"Living without expectations is hard but, when you can do it, good. Living without hope is harder, and that is bad. You have got to have hope, and you musn't shirk it. You must not let your hope turn into expectation. But whatever you hope, you will find out that you can't bargain with your life on your own terms. It is always going to be proving itself worse or better than you hoped."  
"The light that had lighted us into this world was lighting us through it. We loved each other and lived right on. We suffered the thoughts of the night and at dawn woke up and went back to work. The world that so often had disappointed us and made us sorrowful sometimes made us happy by surprise."
"You think winter will never end, and then, when you don't expect it, when you have almost forgotten it, warmth comes and a different light. The wildflowers bloom...the pastures turn green...and the leaves come."
"Oftentimes after it no longer matters whether things are clear or not, they become clear."
"Most people now are looking for a 'better place', which means that a lot of them will end up in a worse one. There in no 'better place' than this, not in this world. And it is the place we've got, and our love for it and our keeping of it, that this world is joined to heaven."
"Everybody's talking about something better. The important thing is to feel good and be proud of what you got, don't matter if it ain't nothin' but a log pen."
"I gnaw again the old bones of the fear of what is to come. Finally, as a gift, as a mercy, I remember to pray, 'Thy will be done', and then again I am free and can go to sleep."
"When you have gone too far, as I think he did, the only mending is to come home."

Started Friday, August 23, 2013. Finished Saturday 24th.

     There she was, just standing there, when what she wanted to do was forbidden. Lizzy had seen one too many fountains on this hot day while exploring the city. Visions of a scene from one of her favorite movies Under the Tuscan Sun flitted across her mind. Could she be brave enough to take a dip? Not too many people were milling around at the moment. She could get in and out pretty quickly.
     Earlier in the day Lizzie had found a lost bracelet in a side pocket of her luggage. It had inspired her to begin the search again for the one missing charm in her collection. Let me assure you, what you have conjured up in your mind when you read the word "charm" is not what graced Lizzie's bracelt. Oh no. Not only did she look up, out and around when she walked, but some of the best treasures were found with eyes down to the ground. From a bathroom stall, to trash heaps, dirt paths, waste baskets, woods and streets, Lizzie was always on the lookout for traces of life in her present locale. Travels to out of the way places plunged her into the most wonderful shops, side streets, alley ways, country lanes and parts and pracels of life along the way. Memories hung from that bracelet providing delightful transports whenever she heard its jingle jangle or caught sight of it. 
     From the beautiful tiled mosaic floor of the fountain, Lizzie spotted just the right memento to add to the bracelet dangling now from her left wrist. It would require her to actually step into the water, make her way to the middle and gently retrieve the ornate rusty key. Would it be easy to grasp? She wouldn't mind getting to cool off a bit as well. With a lifelong struggle against worrying about what people thought of her, avoiding bringing any attention to herself while fading into the crowd, Lizzie definitely was facing a challenge!
     With cares flung to the wind, Lizzie took the plunge. She was in and out having claimed her prize quick as a wink, none the worse for the wear. No one seemed to give a glance toward the woman with the sun dress, straw hat, sunglasses and black sandals nonchalantly climbing gracefully into a fountain and back out onto the cobblestone plaza. Opening her hand to inspect her find convinced Lizzie totally and completely of the right decision to enter the fountain.
     Next on the agenda...an iced latte from one of those adorable cafe's she had eyed longingly from the bus window while stopping to pick up more passengers a few hours ago. There she could fully admire the "charm" that would finish off her bracelet while dreaming of the structure whose lock it fitted long ago. Ah ha! An idea for her next book began to take shape unexpectedly. Lizzie could hardly wait to be seated at a table in the inviting Have A Cuppa on Persimmon Lane.