Inheritance-tried in the fires

1 Peter 1:

3-7 3Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, reserved in heaven for you, …5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power for the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in various trials 7so that the proven character of your faith—more precious than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.… As Christmas lights shine, so dark patches dissapear, and spirits lift. This is true this Christmas season, even more than ever for me. The moreloved ones that pass to the other side, the more my heart looks to the eternal, and carries an awareness of the Presence of a supernatural reality. It is in the wrestling with labor that the birth comes. It is in the sitting that a knowing comes... It is in Him that Peace comes. The night is long, but the glory of His appearing, breaks through in seeing an the passing of a loved one, as in when I saw my mom, and Aunt Connie, when they passed away. It was as if a Divine portal opened- and God's light shone directly from heaven into us here on earth. And we had PEACE. Every once in awhile we get that glimpse. To me, sunsets and sunrises reflect that glory, an natural example of a supernatural reality. Thank You, Abba, Father that you comfort us with such glimpses. Let us be a comfort to others in return. Let the trials bring us to eye opening experiences and let your peace, and yes, your joy inexpressible and full of glory- shine into this darkness.

On Hope

HOPE. Hope is the concept I've been chewing on in this wierd season of grieving, as another of my brothers passes and anniversaries of other loved ones' deaths come around. And I hear and see other dear loved ones who, in their loss, suffer without any hope. My heart breaks for them! It overshadows my own grief and leaves me aching for their grief without comfort. How hard it is for me to understand, when I have been able to meet Him in my worst grief. And yet, I get it. I get the anger at God, the gnawing question- "How can a good God let this evil happen?" I've yelled it, I've seethed in it, and I have struggled with a God who is supposed to be all powerful and all good, but is not stopping the unjustice, evil, or pain. I know the the theoligical reasons for still believing, but those arguments rang empty in the face of such pain in my life. How then? How did I find hope in light of that? It was in the fights. It was in the screaming and cussing and literally shaking my fist in God's face, then crying in a heap on the floor, that a quiet, gentle, and incredibly loving voice broke through, with nothing but compassion, understanding, and the words that let me know that I was loved. He got it, and cared, and He that was with me. And suddenly, I had peace. And hope. Then I knew that I was so loved by this all powerful and all good God. I knew that I was not going to be shielded from the suffering, but that He would walk with me through it. And it was gonna be okay. Peace that defies understanding, but rings more true in the knowing than any fact. The God that I know, the Love I've discovered, beckons us all. This Lover, who took up His cross and walked the path of suffering, who came and identified with us in all of our human suffering, this is the One who is waiting for you, for anyone who wants to have it out with Him. A wise Special Education professor I had at CSUN once said that suffering will make you bitter or better. The choice is each of ours.. I encourace you to take your pain to Him. And watch and wait. Because as surely as there is death, there is resurrection. As surely as Good Friday came, and Jesuse was tortured to death, Sunday is coming and He will bring resurrection life. Come to Me,all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Jesus But God showed us His love in that, while we were still living apart from Him, Christ died for us. Rom.5:8 This hope does not disappoint us, for God has poured out his love into our hearts .Romans 5:5

No crib for a bed, no crown for a king, the cold hand of fate seemed destined for him. The poorest of cradles, the lowliest of stables, the Chosen one Humbled Himself in that stink. But greater, and wiser more knowing, they came- They Knew this Child, they called out His Name. The heavens opened; Showers of adoration and grace overflowing. The angels still sing; hearts worship still brin- ADORE HIM, BOW BEFORE HIM, Our Savior, Our King!

Nightbirde , "YOU CAN''T WAIT UNTIL LIFE ISN'T HARD ANYMORE UNTIL YOU DECIDE TO BE HAPPY."

Jane Kristen Marczewski (31) also known as Nightbirde, of Nashport OH, passed on Feb. 19, 2022. For such a time as this, she lived, she sang, and she died. Her bio says, .."went home to be with her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ." I get it. It's my destiny as well, But it is a death. As Jesus so aptly stated, "Unless a grain of wheat fall to the earth and die, it ramains alone. But if it die it bears much fruit." This song was resurrected in her memory on her passing, at the verge of a war, at the crisis and confusion caused by 2 years of pandemic, rising costs, well- you who are here know the litany of problems. And into that, into the darkness, this Nightbirde sings. And then says, "you can't wait until life isn't hard anymore before you decide to be happy." For such a time as this, her song is heralded into the night. I gotta say, I needed this message. I waste far too much time on sadness over past regrets, and other stuff. In the midst of it all, it's okay- I can let go and live the today God has for me, and be grateful for the good. I need this reminder. I thank God for this message. It's the embodiment of the answer to the question in in Romans 8: What can separate us from the love of God? 34 Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”[a] 37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[b] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Our God trumps death! And what do you know, I just realized today is Ash Wednesday... For those who don't know that one, it's the beginning of the Easter season. A preparation of the life and heart for the celebrating of the death and then the resurrection of Jesus! One famous sermon, by African American preacher, S.M. Lockridge most simply states it this way, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming." We all have our deaths to die, but holding on to Him who conquered death, and you will rise- as He did on that first Easter. When did Jesus announce Himself as the Resurrection and Life? At the graveside of his friend, to his friend'sgrieving sister.! "Martha,” Jesus said, “I am the Resurrection, and I am Life Eternal. Anyone who clings to me in faith, even though he dies, will live forever. John 11:25

A Belated Share of Christ- mas Light

 In my Advent ( pre-Christmas readings) I came on the following verse, which set off a whole string of wonderful thoughts and the feeling that God had just spoken to me, illuminating, if you will, some wonderful truths.  It felt very personal and private, but then I realized that the gift He was giving, the gift of understanding and growing in love, is truly a gift for us all.   So, with a little concern over presuming to use God's voice in the first person, I share the following. Take what "speaks" to you and leave the rest, if you please.

Love is Not the Syrup

 Love is not the syrup that you put on top of the pancake, it is the dough, the yeast that gives sustenance, form and nutrients to the meal. It is the Bread of Life, broken for us. 

Love is the vitamins in the bone broth. It is the fertilizer, stinky, hot and rich, that causes the tree to grow. A healthy tree, by the rivers, with healthy green leaves, which produces the most delicious, succulent fruit.  Rooted and grounded in love, it becomes a strong solid, tree of righteousness.  So, love is the root, love is the grounding, the firm grounding.  The winds can come and the storms can lash and whip and even knock off branches or leaves, but the tree, rooted and grounded in love will withstand it.  That tree will become the refuge for the birds, the wild animals.

So too, are we becoming, as in Psalm 1, trees of righteousness.  That tree produces righteous fruit.  Love, joy ,peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness, self-control. This fruit takes time, watering feeding, and growth. But it will come, if fed the right fertilizer, watered, and tended. It will come, as we guard against the thieves of it. The rodents that would wound and tear and, if not dealt with, will leave it for dead. That fruit will come. 

What's the point of this seemingly overreaching metaphorical mess?  It is this : In all we do, in how we live, in how we act, in where we help, or drive, work or play; it is all worthless, unless it's done in love.  Whether we live or move or have our being, if it is not done in Love, it's at best a bump in the road, maybe fun to some, but it will throw you out of alignment. At worst, a train wreck,  

Without His love, we can lead  a people off  of the path, into seeming freedom, only to find themselves dredged in the muck and torn up by the briars. 

 Love  God's love, is the stuff that makes character. It is like the roots, deeper than a feeling, it is the stuff out of which lasting commitment, willingness to lay down ones own agenda for another's good, is made. 

And ultimately, love will rule the day. Love will come through a season of death, of sacrifice and find that the feelings of delight, desire, and, the other fruit, will again come. Because love, true love,  is stronger than  all other. feeling 

This this that part that gets mistaken for the syrup. This, true love, bears fruit. Not syrup. (unless it's a maple tree, then the sap,  but let's not get sappy)

God is love.  Love never fails.

This is therefore, one of my regular prayers:

14 For this reasonI pray before the Father, 15 from whom [a]every family in heaven and on earth derives its name, 16 that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner [b]self, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 18 may be able to comprehend with all the [c]saints what is the width and length and height and depth, 19 and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled to all the fullness of God

Eph 3:14-19Psalm 1; 1 Cor. 13;

What can I give Him?

 When I was a little girl in my Catholic grammar school, I was asked by a sister to recite a poem for the school Christmas performance. It was simple and she was excited to have me to do it, as I was for the privilege. It was almost like our secret.  She practiced it with me, and I recited it with all my heart. Because that was the point. This, she knew that I knew, was the point!  

"What can I give him, poor as I am, if I were a shepherd, I'd give him a lamb, If I were a wise man, I'd do my part. What can I give Him; give Him my heart."

 ( It turns out that this was only the last stanza of a well know Christmas song:A Christmas Carol    by Christina Rossetti - 1830-1894.  But that's a post for another day!)

 Today, this song, this video, recaptured that heart-giving for me!

View from a Hammock

 Here I am, back again, after many years and many miles.  Too much to fill in, but a new life in a new city has begun. I have been still trying to carve a sanctuary spot in this place for my quiet times, and in a very large back yard there is lots of potential. But this blog is about giving thanks, which our hammock rekindled as a fitting re-entry into this blog world.  (Actually my new hubby's "double hammock". one of the many amazing gifts he brings into my life.)

First of all, I give thanks for my daughter's wonderful friend, Jared, who found the time, the place and a great view in my new back yard to hang it. Then I want to say thanks for the beautiful mini-forest my over-the-wall neighbor has grown. And for the birds that are chirping and for the wonderful weather- in the shade. I thank God for the amazing property we  found and wonderful neighbors, and most of all, close proximity to our kids. 

In learning about Interactive Journaling with God, in learning to be still and sit and listen to that still, small voice, the silence, if you will of just BEING with Him, this hammock seemed to send me to that place of peace much like the waves of the ocean. Something so beautiful, majestic and relentless in the constant gentle roar of waves rolling in and back. Something so huge that we really can't envision it entirely- this is that Peace, that peace that passes all understanding. That Peace in which I suddenly, again, find myself  resting. And  letting those words from the old hymn sink in, "It is well, it is well, with my soul."

When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul

It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul

Just to say, this is not in callous disregard of the many  personal calamities and of the  effects of the worldwide virus that rocks our world.  It is the miracle of being able, if even for 30 minutes, to totally disengage from it all. This is that Peace!  He is our Peace.

On Sorrow and Joy

Dec. 3, 2018.  We'd have been married 40 years today.  I've had feelings like a yo-yo going up and down this month. Crazy how you can feel an anniversary even before you connect with the date.  I found myself feeling such a mixture of feelings, and a heaviness. Weighed down by the sorrow of a loss for me and for my kids.

It begins for me in November.  I found myself writing, "Sorrow and joy play hide and seek around my heart." I was too busy to be able to even process the words.

November 2nd carries in on her wings the joy of my sweetheart's birthday- a day of holy exchange. He shares it with the death date of my Dad.  Dad ran his race with an amazing work ethic, courage, commitment to his church, and family, generosity, and love. Dad loved me in his brokenness best he could, never stopped missing Mom, his bride of 63 years or his son, Vanda. Dad suffered the worst humiliation for him of not being able to work and to be independent in his last years. For Dad, it is truly a graduation into a place where he has now entered into the JOY that our Lord has for him and the fulness of His LOVE. 

And celebrating my new love. Eric, who reflects much of my dad's greatness in courage, integrity, generosity, love for and dedication to his family, but very different in areas where I had long felt a lonely void.  Eric who lives out a deep commitment to God.  Eric, who has been through the breaking of his heart and his body, has fearlessly sought the recovery needed to heal both. And encompassed in his gifts of generosity, he has given comfort, his presence, honor, and so much more to me.

It moves into Thanksgiving, being with grandkids and the birthday of my late husband, Dave.   The void searching for gifts just right for him. The void of him.  And now today. I hurt for him. I hurt for the tragic death, and sometimes destructive lifetime of struggles and brokenness. I hurt most of all for the fallout, like the destruction of an atom bomb that his brokenness and eventual suicide left on all around him, especially my children.

Mary was chosen to bear Emmanuel-God's very Son. Blessed with great joy, but mingled with the eventual piercing of her heart with a sword. It seems in this life we all partake of that journey to some degree or another. I woke with the song above ringing through my head this past week.

It's funny, as I write this, that I just realized why this morning the scripture that jumped out at me in my reading seemed totally unrelated to the sorrow I was feeling this morning. I wrote it down anyway, without a heart, because I knew it was from Him. But as I get to the end of processing why I'm feeling what I feel, I see the connection.

 It was Isaiah 65:22-23. It was the answer of my prayers for my children and grandchildren; for Dave's children and grandchildren. 

 It was:

"No longer will they build houses and others live in them,

    or plant and others eat.

For as the days of a tree,

    so will be the days of my people;

my chosen ones will long enjoy

    the work of their hands.

23 They will not labor in vain,

    nor will they bear children doomed to misfortune;

for they will be a people blessed by the Lord,

    they and their descendants with them."

 In the midst of joy, there can be sorrow. In the midst of sorrow, joy.  In the waiting, the experiential knowledge of that  joy that comes in the morning as surely as the dawn.  In grieving comes comfort. And in the wake of it all comes resurrection.
 Only through HIs breath, His presence. Only through the perfect LOVER of my soul.

Where Morning Dawns and Evening Fails.....

"Where morning dawns and evening fails, you call forth songs of joy."Ps. 65:8
  The beauty of God's words broke through my busy thoughts and dry mental analysis and breathed something in my soul.  So I had to share. Having struggled to feel connected with God, to get anything out of the word lately, it was a delightful surprise to have that part of me awakened.  Being a lover of sunrises, this one is easy for me to grasp.
I was awakened. Reading on, I felt hope revive- Joy, even.
"The streams of God are filled with water."  His streams, not ours. Being in a serious drought, here in S California, I remembered reading elsewhere about the River of Life flowing from the throne of God whose leaves bring healing to the nations. I thought of the Pool of Bethesda, and I finally got it, that this may have been one place where heaven was opened and a stream flowed.  Having been blessed to have been filled with such joy that laughter  erupted.(embarrassingly, but too joyous in His love to care.)
And I saw that there were, in the Spirit, pools- areas where I could discern God moved. ( I think in the places where people were whole heartedly seeking Him)  But again, I digress.  Why I love blogging- who ever digresses on Face book?
"The grasslands of the desert overflow, the hills are clothed with gladness.
The meadows are covered with flocks,
And the valleys are mantled with grain;
They shout for joy and sing! "

Inspiring me to cry out in my heart with a response-
"Sing to God, O kingdoms of the earth, sing praises to the Lord.
 to him who rides the ancient skies above who thunders with mighty voice. " Ps. 68:32
Rereading the psalm that I'd speed read through before with new eyes, I saw that He knew what I was going through, that He'd put up a divine stoplight  to my busy mind.
Are you even hearing me? I see prayers answered elsewhere, and help so the kids in my class, grand kids don't suffer- but why not for me?
"O you who hear prayer, to you all men will come."
He hears. He does hear.
I remember in Psalms 22- that prophetic psalm that told long before all that he would suffer on the cross in detail, including, "... they have pierced my hands and my feet..."
in that Psalm where Jesus quotes on the cross when He cried out in mortal anguish, "My God, My
God, why have you forsaken me?"
That psalm ends for all of us who have felt this way," "you who fear the Lord, praise him!
.....For He has not despised or disdained the suffering of the afflicted one;
he has not hidden his face from him,
But  He has listened to his cry for help."
He heard.  He hears. He cares.
Ps. 66 then told me more of what me, and so many others are going through.
" For you, O God tested us;
   you refined us like silver,
You brought us into prison and laid burdens on our backs. ... but you brought us into a place of abundance."
 " Come and listen, all you fear God;
let me tell you what He has done for me."  In remembering all the love and  all the answers to prayer  over the years, heaviness is lifted, like the fog that blocks that sunrise.
So how do I live there?  V. 1 reminds me, no commands me, like a mighty war cry,
" Shout with joy to God, all the earth!
Sing the glory of his name;
make his praise glorious!
Say to God, 'How awesome are your deeds!
So great is your power that your enemies cringe before you!."
I remember that it is in Praise, in putting my focus on Him, that the Walls of depression, hopelessness, etc. come down!
"If I had cherished sin in my heart, the Lord would not have listened;
but God has surely listened and heard my voice in prayer.
Praise be to God,
Who has not rejected my prayer
or withheld His love from me."  (Psalm 66:18-20)

Cabbage Rolls Redeemed!!

Last week I took my sorry excuse for cabbage rolls up to my Dad's.  One look at me and he says, "What's the matter?" So I confessed my failure, plopped sorry excuse on the table and slunk to my seat.
What transpired next was one of those transformations in nature- totally predictable to any who know nature, but still always causing me to stop in awe- like the butterfly emerging from the cocoon.
My dad was sympathetic, encouraging  and kind!  I know - he's no monster- but this is a transformation for me who he likes to "help" with his criticisms and - well- stuff.
Anyway, he said the meat was good flavor, even if cabbage not cooked. And then he told how his Italian family would cook it-( only without the rice.)   Lay it in a baking dish, cover it with Mozzarella, and bake.  I'm guessing even the spaghetti sauce brought a flavor of home to him.
Anyway, I did it, using the mixed cheeses I already had, with the leftovers- and added some Parmesan. It turned out delicious- a big hit with all!!!
God can redeem anything, folks- even our worst failures!

On the perils of cooking stuffed cabbage.

Feeling so frustrated, now 40 minutes past dinner deadline and still the cabbage isn't done!
My now early to go to bed Dad reminded me that it's supposed to be cooked 1st when I told him it'd be late.  The "few minutes" some recipes say would take to soften the cabbage leaves became  25- oh wait- that's because I turned on the wrong burner.
And then it still took too long.  And also- Martha Stewart failed me- just because I didn't have tomato puree. and it just doesn't taste the same at all with spaghetti sauce!

  I could go back in time to where signing a paper in Woodland Hills turned out to take 2 hours and then hitting every red light  ever made in the history of Topanga Cyn. Blvd. or back farther to- whatever!
But Dad and Dave are still waiting for my proudly touted Stuffed Cabbage.
Mental note to self. NEVER try to impress people with a meal that you actually never cooked before!
And so now I will take my  sorry, late dish to my Dad and be prepared for some- this time- well deserved crap.
I'm not saying it's their fault- and this time I can't even blame them!
"You made a mess out of it this time, Ollie!"

And this is how I start back on my "Give Thanks Always" blog?
I should be fired.

"You just tal-a- all-a--lk- you talk too much."

HI Faithful Readers! - I shout to the empty room.  And deservedly so, as I've been silent for so long.
Feeling a need to start up again, this verse in Ecclesiates is sticking in me-maybe poking at me because I can be so guilty of too much talk.  

         "The more the words, the less the meaning, land how does that profit anyone?"

It actually damages- as I see by bored, glossed over 6 year olds in my class.  I see it  as I listen to someone who just goes on and on and begin to resist the very thing I may have agreed with in the beginning of the conversation. It makes what we say of much less value.

People listen better to people who talk less.

I really don't want to say too much about this- for obvious reasons- but I found this comment on a site and liked it:

"Eccl 6:11 is one of my favorite passages. Not because I am an expert on its meaning in the context, but because it eschews verbosity.
In this case, however - in the vanity book - It is saying that long winded expertise merely confuses and does not clarify. Long winded people are vain and like to hear their own words. There is little value in them. 

Denial- or "Im not missing you at all, since you've been gone.."

Since a picture is worth 1.000 words and I've left so much I wanted to say unsaid- neglecting this blog for so long-
 I'm gonna restart with pictures- cuz I badly need to see them right now!

While I've had a crazy, busy summer, with lots of travel- this last week has been, in part, settling back home.  Home for me has been Sylmar most of my life.  Sylmar. Sylmar is to the San Fernando Valley as maybe  Oxnard is to Ventura County.  Or Fresno to the wine country in mid California.  Venice beach to Malibu.  Sort of looked down on, sort of wrong side of tracks, sort of conglomeration of a very eclectic group of mavericks.  Sylmar.
It was told that Sylmar was named after the vast amount of Olive groves covering it's frame. Sylmar means Silver Seas, they say, because of the waves of silver that brushed the sky as the wind blew up the undersides of the olive leaves. I've seen the wind do that, having grown up in an olive grove. It really is pretty, although I took it for granted as a kid.
The fact that my family owned the grove and ran the local olive mill has always made me feel more rooted here than maybe most. Like I have a stake in the soil.  You see one of the remaining trees in the shot of my backyard above.  The fact that my Papanan- Italian for grandpa- came over in 1909 and, upon seeing the Silver Seas, reminding him of his home in Italy, settled here put another peg in it's soil for me.
Flanked on the North to the East with mountains, being a foothill town of the valley, Sylmar has morphed over the years from country to suburb. But it has stubbornly clung to it's roots.  Having lots of big lots zoned for horses, you will always see in Sylmar the riders going down the streets, and up along the sides of the hill.  Only then they were plain white men and women out for a ride on a modest small stable horse or pony. Now they are mostly vaqueros in their sombreors riding anything from stable horses to beautiful prancing Andelusians ( no really-right here in Sylmar!!!!)  But just to add that Sylmarian flair- they have often been seen talking on cell phones as they ride!

All of this was just to let you know 2 things I saw today- and I knew I was back in Sylmar. The first was a  calmly singing elderly, gray-haired gentleman in a  cap riding down the road on a 10 speed which was pulling a grocery cart by a thin cord about 7 feet long. He had to keep a steady enough speed to prevent the cart from rolling into him, but seemed to be quite up for the task.
Then a little farther down the road 2 teen aged boys mounted their skateboards gingerly, with their guitars in hand, to cross the street.   Sylmar.
I don't know why, but I almost feel proud when I announce that we really don't have anything here in terms of big time entertainment. No theater, no mall, (you really can't count the old Sylmar square which has  mostly turned into a mini-swap meet.  We don't even have a Starbucks, I boast.  But we have 2 very funky coffee shops, and our Veteran's Park near the foothills not only has an awesome cactus garden, but a Frisbee golf course that winds it's way through a misplaced stand of tall pine trees.
My motive in downplaying Sylmar is to keep others from moving in, thus keeping the housing market in reasonable range- so that rif-raf like me can still afford to move here. :<)
Admittedly, it has definitely changed, and has it's slummy streets- mostly the main streets.  But there are pockets of  quiet, nice neighborhoods still being guarded by some of the remaining old olive trees. Sort of like the faithful old servant who, upon being retired, said, "No, I like it here with you. I think I'll stay."
(And now I will end this post with a preposition.)
I once saw a sign that said, "Oxnard. Not just another pretty name!"  I think I could say the same about Sylmar, with all the insincerity I can muster!

Sometimes Kindergarteners Make me sick

I'm gonna have to change the names in this post to protect the diseased as well as the fakers.
Last week Brent was walking next to me and looked upset.
"What's wrong, Brent, don't you feel good?" I ask.
Brent then grabs his stomach and sort of doubles over. Is he faking, did I ask a leading question, or what?
But then he went into crying.  Now Brent has really only broken down and cried about 4 times in the last year, which is almost stoic for the average 5 year old. So I start to believe him. By the time we get in the room, he's doubling over, I have him over the wastebasket, just in case. ( I know, not the most nurturing thing- but you try keeping 23 others out of the barf when it spews, ok?)
And I send him with a note to the office, telling of how he's suffered.1 hour later, Drent is back in my room, good as gold.
Monday, similar thing happens with Natalie, only this time I didn't ask first. When she said she had to throw up, I set her near the trash can and began to write another note. Only this one got better right before recess.  Aha- I think,  "when recess makes them better, forgetaboutit!!"
 ( Italian for forget about it )!
Then, next day, another child was out, then came back- said she'd thrown up.
Would've ignored it all and chalked it up to nerves, except that, in the middle of my doing some classwork, I suddenly felt cramped up with pain.  Hurt like  H... , then, after about a half hour, was gone.  Came back that afternoon.  Next day fine, then hit again.  By yesterday afternoon, all I wanted was  for my stomach to stop hurting and go to bed.
I 'm stretched in thinking how this fits with giving thanks always. Well, the other Kindergarten teacher, when I told her about it said, "You are lucky. I threw up for 2 days last week." There's one blessing.  And I gotta say, I do give thanks that I was kind and appropriate to Brent,( I did ask him to  barf in the trash can nicely) even if the office does now think I'm a sucker!

Cave Dwellers

I had  a friend tell me something that has gotten stuck in my head a couple of months ago. He said there was a Word that  the speaker said about somebody who'd been hiding in a cave, and how God was calling them out.  He felt like it applied to him. After a month of wondering, of wondering what was my friend was  hiding from, what pains might have made him go there, and how does one come out again- it came back to me.  Always seems to, don't ya know!

( MY very bad Danish accent- don't ya know?)

 Some people's caves are obvious. Drugs, alcohol, massive overeating, TV, Internet addiction. Their caves can be their living rooms.  The walls of some of us others might be made of activities. Some very good activities- Church services, classes, hobbies, etc.

 I know a guy at the gym who spends  a couple hours a night at one gym, then takes off to another gym with other classes.  A short guy- he's admittedly built like a mini-Mac truck. But I digress.( love that word!)

Even though most people who know me will attest to the fact that I am an extremely busy and highly social person, there are parts of me that I think have hidden out in a cave.
I have so much I want to do, so much of life I desire to experience, but don't do them. The dreams, the big visions that God puts on our hearts- the higher callings that we all feel- like the far off call of the wolf at the moon. Or the wondering- what really is my purpose- my big calling in life?
For me- right now- to teach primary school.   To  start a small woman's group at Church.
All good- all where God has me now.   But I feel there's more......

 The log in my eye demands attention.What are the walls of my cave made of? Old school  friends, new school friends, family, book club, exercise, plays, school committees, other family, Church, Internet. I think mine is a mod-podge of many activities.  And why am I there? Fear? Fear of success, fear of failure, or just plain distractability. Distracted by the immediate, not leaving time to plan for the future.

I think now of Lazarus. Jesus called him out.  But then he turned to the ones around him and said, "Now you unwrap him."  I think we are all responsible to go before God and answer His call to come out of our caves. But I think it takes relationship- relationships where we get real with others and pray for each other- to really walk it out.
Just thinking.....

Dallas Willard

Went to the most amazing memorial service today. A service that made us cry, but also motivated us to want to live a life that would shine with the light and love of God- just as Dallas Willard had.  A professor at USC, international speaker, Christian philosopher,intellect and  author;  we could never quite figure out why he chose our little ex-hippie, family and blue collar worker church to go to. But we were glad.  Always friendly, gracious and down-to-earth, yet answering questions given him with such wisdom and depth that it would take months or even years to figure out what that meant.  And then it would change our lives.
Here is an example:
“A carefully cultivated heart will, assisted by the grace of God, foresee, forestall, or transform most of the painful situations before which others stand like helpless children saying “Why?” 
― Dallas Willard, Renovation of the Heart: Putting On the Character of Christ

He helped me get ahold of that after my husband died. He patiently answered questions until I got it. I love this man!
 I keep talking in the "we" vernacular. That is because so many of our church family was there- (It was held at Church on the Way in Sherman Way- and is podcast somewhere on this worldwide web.) And in this loss- we were truly a family. He had that effect. But most of all- he showed us what Jesus really looked like. Loving enemies- respecting, laughing and inspiriting us to disciplines that would change us on the inside. I fall so short- but His grace goads me on. And Dallas modeled that grace.
As was his style- Dallas gave. He gently,patiently, and with much love and humor gave his wisdom and blessings.

 I will end with the blessing- the prayer that he gave for us-it was written on a bookmark inserted into each of the bulletins:
" My Prayer for You
That you would have a rich life of joy and power, abundant in supernatural results, with a constant, clear vision of never-ending life in God's World before you, and of the everlasting significance of your work day by day.
A radiant life and death. "
Dallas Willard

If you ever want to read a great, potentially-life changing, powerful book- read Renovation of the Heart.

2 great men have graduated- passed on to the other side in the last couple of weeks..
Dallas Willard, professor, national speaker, author of Divine Conspiracy, Renovation of the Heart and several other books was one.
Dallas was a peacemaker. Working to inspire changed lives by the power of Christ and an abiding sense of knowing that He truly loves us and is committed to working in us more of that Love.
Here is one of (many) of my favorite quotes from him,
" 'Do not be afraid little flock for your Father has chosen gladly to give you the Kingdom.' Luke 12:32   It is the love of God, admiration and confidence in His greatness and goodness and the regular experience of His care that free us from the burden of 'looking out for ourselves."
 from Renovation of the Heart.
Of the other great man, John Butler, I have no quotes, although others might.  His greatness was carried out in quiet, gentle ways.  His gentle chuckle had  the power to chase away worry and make mountains into molehills.  His easy responses  put out fires of contention- bringing joy and building bridges where there could have been war and division.

 It seemed that he lived Dallas's quote, for he truly seemed to know that God loved him and took care of him, and from that flowed a love and care for others that is the true hallmark of Christianity.
John was a peacemaker.  Like the wine he made and freely gave away, he gave of the richness of a well fermented life!

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. " Matthew 5:10

Broken Frame

Awhile ago, a picture frame fell off the wall and the glass cover shattered.  I thought I cleaned it all up. But then today I found another small piece.
When I had my impacted wisdom teeth removed in my 20's it turned out that they had shattered under my  gums.  The result of that was that for several years after I would have little fragments of the tooth work their ways to the surface, finally cutting through the gum and out.
I'm  tired of having to pick up the shattered remnants of brokenness.  Thinking I was done cleaning up that mess, only to find more work to do. But thank God I could take care of it- so that no one else gets hurt b.
Because of my clumsiness, I learned some years back to praise God ( much better than cussing) when I dropped or spilled something, and look at it as an opportunity to get my floor cleaner, while getting rid of a little more excess stuff.
Thank God that His love never fails and He is always working to clean up our messes. Thank God that  in our brokenness He works more of His goodness, if we can praise Him in the midst of it.  And we end up better than before.  

Pressing in...

I have been getting this sense all year that it's time to press in to more of God. A need to be filled more with His Love, to move more in His Spirit. To be filled with Him so that I'm prepared for whatever is looming around the corner.  ( The parable of the 10 virgins: 5 had oil jars filled and ready, 5 not.)
 That it's time.
Time to be prepared.
And I find myself wondering, "What does that mean, really?"
Press. It contains so much:  to push,  to squish,  to flatten, to take out all wrinkles. It feels like a lot of straining going on.
It's the root of so many words.  Express, impress, depress, suppress.  Pressure.
So how does one press in to God.  Push into a Spiritual Entity larger than the Universes He created?  To feel like I need to impress Him with my efforts? I don't think so.
To express. To express my deepest desires, to express my heart's cry to be closer to Him, to be used by Him, to be changed into a more loving, caring image of His love and care?  I think so.
I have found in my walk with God over the past 38 years that when I draw close to Him, He draws close to me.   I learned a great song last summer that really expressed it:
The more I seek you,
The more I find you
The more I find you, the more I love you

I wanna sit at your feet
Drink from the cup in your hand.
Lay back against you and breath, feel your heart beat
This love is so deep, it's more than I can stand.
I melt in your peace, it's overwhelming

More lyrics: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/k/kari_jobe/

I think I tend to make everything too hard. It's not like we can pressure God into doing something. It's like those who HUNGER, who really hunger and thirst for righteousness will be satisfied.  
And pressing in to One who  has so emptied Himself, even becoming one of us depressing  humans, because He wanted us so badly- is not an exercise in presumption. It's  an adventure into the heart of the ultimate presser-inner- the Hound Of Heaven! This is the One who has been wooing us back to His arms of Love with every sunset and sweetly singing bird. With friends and comfort and countless answers to prayers not even recognized by so many of us so much of the time. 

Such love, that I go to an old passage with a new passion, " Not that I have already attained or am already perfected, but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me...
I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.  Phil 3:12;14

Kari Jobe - The More I Seek You w/lyrics

What? ( Or , post about almost nothing

As I get older, there are ways that I get more like my mom. For instance, hearing. We used to tease Mom about the time I told her my feet hurt and her reply was, "Go to the dentist."
And we always were saying , "What?" I'm saying it more now. But you know how when people tell you about a hearing issue, and your smart-aleck reply is, "What?" Very fun, especially when they don't get it at first. (Well funny to some of us old farts...)
So, I'm standing in a long, boring line in the pharmacy, waiting. I look to my right, and I see this sign:
Hearing aides: blocks out other noises, making hearing clearer.
And I say, "What?" And laugh at myself because I've just said "what" to a product hanging on a shelf.

Some Trust in Guns, some trust in Gun Control..

This morning on way to school, I see with  a mixture of sorrow and relief that there is yet another police car circling our campus.

It seems that the issue that I never blogged about in January is back in my face. As issues arise, abuse and crisis training increase, I feel obliged to look at it again.

The Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre sent a volley of dialogue about gun control throughout the nation, in our backyards and even into the Churches.  To pack or not to pack - is that really the question?  I don't mean to minimize in throwing in  a little humor, just to lighten up a subject that is way too heavy, and close to home for me.

Some trust in guns and some trust in gun control- I don't have  enough wind in my sail to even get into that conversation.  What I do know is that my trust can't be in anything that unsure.

Since I don't have a gun, it's pointless to consider that option. So what options are there for me as a teacher in my kindergarten classroom.  I can carry a cell phone. I can put myself between a potential threat and the sweet little ones that have been entrusted into my care. I can hope that help will arrive, that the arrow will miss it's mark.

But all of that is unsure.  My trust has to be in the Lord.

I can pray.
 I can pray for God to send His angels every day. I can pray for the boldness, wisdom, and love of Christ that was shown in the High School teacher that talked the young man into giving him his gun.

And then, having done that, I  can trust. I can trust that the God that hears my prayers will answer with what I need when I need it.  I can trust that I am a public school teacher for such a time as this on purpose.  And I can trust that if it's my time to die, I can go knowing I did the right thing.  And that if it's not, nothing can take me.

I  can choose to not live in fear!

"What can we say to these things?  If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?"
"Who can separate us from the love of Christ?  Shall, tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
" For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separated us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:31, 35,38-39

 Nothing can separate us from the Love of Jesus. 

Busyness

Not knowing where to start, having never written the last blog that beat for awhile in my heart, I feel like someone who's just picked up a neglected project which has sat so long it's tangled and covered with dust.

Needing to clear time for myself in my way-too-busy life.  And this blog is one of my self things I've neglected. Like the photo album I started putting together with old pictures, which now lays in a corner of my bedroom in a ripped brown sack.  

Since December, I had a great but very busy holiday season with kids and grand kids in Oxnard, gone to a conference, gone to Sequoia, gone again to the beach 2 different weekends, gone to Santa Maria (with my Dad to see my 94 year old Father-In-Law), and gone up to Sacramento and then Chico for a wedding and quick visit with my grand kids there.  

All of this on weekends, so that I've not had a full day at home since last year.  

Whoops- I think I'm grumbling and complaining on my "Give Thanks Always" site. I'm breaking my rules. What am I complaining about?  I'm so blessed! 

What a great family, and full, busy  life I have!

I have full time work and full time busyness on top of it.

But I am just so tired.
 I have to be at work early, and parent conferences are this week, so I'd better stop it with all my grumblings about blessings.

Maybe I should just post pictures. They do a better job of telling what I've done, anyway. Only they leave out the tired part.

  I feel like the last couple of days from a 17 day whirlwind of Europe where all the museums began to look the same. 

HOPE ???

Why?  

Why celebrate with such evil, such destruction all around us?   What's there to celebrate? 

Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the Spirit felt its worth. 

When I celebrate, when I see Him, I realize I'm not just a speck of dust, an insignificant sod, or a guilt ridden failure. 

    When I see Him, I suddenly feel the immensity of my value. God- the one who made it all, loves me! He loves you! He came down and became one of us because of our immense worth.  He suffered, so that we would know He does care. 

Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease. 

This God is not the author of evil, He is the author of love.  If I try to figure it out, I'm left with screaming pain. If I trust that He is one who cares, who loves, and enter into that comfort, I'm left with HOPE.

The King of kings lay thus lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friends.
He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before him lowly bend! 

He, God, actually cared so much that He was became weak and felt our need and saw our evil. He came to be our friend!!

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. 

And hope springs up. A  hope that defies life's circumstance. A hope that says, "Yes, there IS something more than this!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming, 
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand. 

Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born; 

When I listen with my heart instead of my head, I fall, in gratitude and awe at the thought of that night!

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

With all our hearts we praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!

And out of that HOPE, when I embrace Him, welcome Him, as the angels did that divine night,  in praise, JOY springs up.  A joy that defies the circumstances, that causes all other  forms of happiness  to be tinsel on a magnificent tree.  

  

May you, as I have, find the hope, comfort, peace and joy that is the message of this beautiful Christmas carol. 

Italicized words from "O Holy Night" song by Adolphe Adam

Come, Emmanuel, Come

Having written this in the morning, not knowing of the massacre happening in that Conneticut school, I have decided to dedicate it to all of those affected by this tragedy. Let's all pray for them...

Just thinking of losses and of all the loves that burden some of us this season.  And thinking of the heart of Christmas; the  world shaking event long before foretold, that brought Emmanuel, which means "God with us."

 Just thinking of the sky invaded by countless swarms of angelic beings the night that Jesus was born.
What would cause such an outpouring of heaven into earth's domain, but the answer to countless prayers, "Come, Emmanuel."

This song,  "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," has been going through my mind whenever I've had time to stop and meditate on God this season.  Although it's been a good season, and I'm in a relatively good place, I see and feel the pain of so many losses and struggles for myself and those around me.  The deaths, the cancers, the parents who with Alzheimer's, divorce, etc.

And when I think about the words to this song, I again feel the rising of hope, of a desire to live and to give out that hope to others.  And most of all to pass on the comfort  and peace that defy all hell's hell in our lives.  In it all, He is there.  Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.  That's my prayer for you all.

I suggest you think in terms of Israel being, not just a place on the map-a war torn place on the map- but the name of all who long for a real encounter with a God who would not just be somewhere out there, but WITH US.  After all, don't so many of us feel war torn in so many ways?
   
Emmanuel, the One, the only One, who has defeated the Grave.
The one whose presence brings hope in despair, light in our darkness,
And peace.

I love you Dad, Rose Anne, Odee and John, Cathy and Mary Ann,  Helene and mi amiga, Nancy, and all my friends and family in each of your struggles.

I just copied the middle 3 verses. May they bless you as they have me.

"O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel."

Gratitude

I read this today and felt it belonged here:
"Gratitude keeps the path clear. Thankfulness alone for the saving Mercy of Jesus keeps our hearts free for His purposes in spite of all that sets itself above Him. Gratitude torpedoes every obstacle to Divine Mercy."   by Andy Cominsky
It's worth thinking about.  

Thanksgiving Was Here.

      I'm doing something I rarely do.  I'm writing without knowing really what I'm going to say.  The last post burned on my heart and was written and re-written several times.  Some posts are inspirational thoughts that are born out of my times with God.  And others are things I've thought about, observed, appreciated.
       And then there's the ones that make me laugh and I just want to share the joke.
      Tonight I had a great time feeding a bunch of people. I love that.  The more people that came in, the happier I got.  I am so blessed to have amazing friends who give of their lives to let others know how much God loves them.  People who love to see others set free by the truths of the Good News of Christ's Words life.  And amazing, beautiful young ladies  and men, who come to sing and play instruments, leading us all in worship to this God of Love.
       I had one of my girls and family here for Thanksgiving. Sarah and Josh and the 4 kids. It was very fun and we cooked a lot.  I love them all so much.  I love my son-in-law for speaking some tough truth to me in a very kind way.   I am truly thankful for him.
       I'm grateful I have Umpie, my  Dad, here another year and that I got to help in making his special stuffing- the best ever in my book!
       And I'm grateful that I'll get to see my other daughter and kids for Christmas, even if it feels too far away.
       But it's a bittersweet joy I have.  I miss some.  Some on the other side now.  I have had a saying of late, it's really sort of a tongue-in-cheek type of thing. I will now quote myself for you, "The older I get the younger everybody around me is."   Yeah, no, really!~)
       You can see why I have to quote myself. Who else would, eh?
       But the other reality is that the older we get, the more loved ones we lose.
       So how do I give thanks in the midst of this pang of pain.  I can because of Him who died and rose, and  who IS the resurrection and the life.  Because I know that  whoever believes in Him will have everlasting life.  Because of the cross- buying for us a gift of forgiveness which  plunges us into a river of that Love- that never ending, always believing, ever flowing no-holds-barred Love.
      Because of Christ in me- the Hope of Glory I can be thankful, even in the midst of it.
     I love you, Lord!