“On Falling and Blessings”

Awakening from a nap, the bad dream was a familiar one, that of my teeth falling out.  The first time it happened was when I was 5.  While playing chase on the merry-go-round, I had stumbled and crashed down on one of the steel bars.  A front, permanent tooth was broken and chipped, and I found myself spitting out bits and pieces of it into my hand.  The scene played out often over the years in dreams, reliving that moment.

Almost 70 years later, it was an encore, sans the merry-go-round.  No doubt that is why the bad dream reappeared.

An early family Christmas had been planned with most of the family going to Boise, Idaho. The weekend was filled with laughter and giggles as all five cousins were together, a rarity due to distance and circumstances.  Gingerbread houses, trampoline jumping in the dark, a fresh snowfall, a tour of Christmas lights in a limo, and a pajama party were just a few of the events which made the weekend memorable.  Tubing in the snow was a highlight, a first for me.  “This is so much fun,” I exclaimed—over and over again.

This family played together, laughed together, and we came together.  

The final activity of the weekend was a shopping trip downtown.  There were ten of us as we spread out in groups—five grandgirls, my three daughters, a son-in-law;  and myself. After a stop at a book store we headed on to a clothing store where I found the prize of all prizes—warm socks.  I was certain they were the capper to a perfect weekend.  

What I did not know was what awaited me within minutes of leaving that store.  

The crosswalk was not a smooth surface.  The signal said there were nine seconds left in which to cross, and so I hurriedly began.  I did not make it.  I remember seeing the raised, orange protrusion out of the corner of my eye as I went down.  Possibly having been placed for traction in icy conditions,  my thick-soled boots had caught on one, causing the fall.

The whole family was witness to the inglorious header.  My daughter said I went down as though I had been shot.  It felt that way.  It wasn’t a trip and stumble but a pummeling to the pavement.  I knew my face was heading squarely into the street.  

At the last nano-second, which I can confirm is infinitely briefer than a split second, my head was flipped up and back, and I landed on the underside of my chin, the impact forcing my lower jaw up and to the left.  Pulling myself up off the street, I spit a chunk of a broken crown into my hand, reminiscent of a 5-year-old little girl. 

It could have been, should have been so much worse.  A scratched upper lip which looked like a bad Botox job, an abrasion on the underside of my chin which barely bled and required no stitches, bruising on both knees, and one broken jaw.  Had I landed fully face first I would be dealing with issues for the rest of my life, never completely recovering. Having my jaw wired shut for six weeks while on a liquid diet is minor in comparison.

My blessings are many.  Not only was I spared from horrific injury, I have a family which has stood by me every step of the way, holding me up while I sobbed in their arms, willing me to breathe as shock was trying to take hold, housing me, caring for me, loving me.  Their humor never ceases to delight me.  The support and encouragement from friends and those who don’t even personally know me has been overwhelming 

There is a point and purpose to all things.  Do I see it?  Do I know what it is?  No, but I know it to be.  

We all stumble at times while walking, whether physically or figuratively.  Sometimes the fall is a slam to the pavement, other times it’s just enough to trip us up.  I’ve often said that these are the times we either turn to God, we turn on Him, or we turn away from Him.  

As for me, my advocacy is that of turning to Him, but that is all I can do—advocate.  The choice is individual.  It is yours to make.  



"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble."   Psalm 46:1

“On Digging Deep”

to dig deep:  v.  To make a lot of effort with one’s resources

This—my Christmas message

When challenges present themselves, opportunity is given for personal and spiritual growth, the chance to become more.  It is in those times I experience God, His love and care for me, and see first-hand my own incapabilities.

While visiting family this past week-end, I did my version of “the rubber meeting the road” when I did a face-plant when I tripped over a protrusion while crossing the street.  The scenarios for possible injury were horrific.  Somehow, though, landing on the underside of my chin, a broken jaw was the single souvenir I had to deal with.  A swollen lip which looked like a bad Botox job and a small abrasion under my chin are minor.  

Today my mouth is going to be wired shut for six weeks in order to align and stabilize the jaw so it can heal.  There will be no walnuts to munch on, only that which can be sucked through a straw.  Fear visited me during the night.  “I’m terrified,” I cried out to God.  And I was—of being unable to speak, to communicate, of choking.  

Upon awakening, I am at peace.  

I am “digging deep.”  HE is my resource.  

Christmas 2017 will be a Christmas to remember.


“All things come from him.  All things are directed by him.  All things are for his praise.  May God be given the glory forever! Amen.”  Romans 11:36. NIRV

"On Hospitality and a Thanksgiving Invitation"

hospitality:  n.  The act or service of welcoming, receiving, hosting, or entertaining guests.

Thanksgiving 2017 is just around the corner.  Perhaps that is the reason the memory floated through my mind today, an incident I hadn’t thought about in years.

 

Pulp and paper mills operate 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, shutting down only periodically for repair and maintenance.  As Thanksgiving Day, 1966 approached, the prospects were dismal.  Having moved a distance away from our home town and families to be employed at a newly constructed mill, my husband was scheduled to work.

 

There would be no family dinner with a bounty of food and after-dinner traditions--no football games on television being watched by the men in the family while the women crowded in the small kitchen, chatting and doing the dishes.  There would be no chess games set up in the middle of the living room for my grandfather and the uncles while the children created their own forms of entertainment.  There would be no extended family. 

    

With a single family car, I would be staying home alone with our young 3-year-old son.  Living in the country, the neighbors were few and far between, amplifying the feeling of isolation and aloneness. 

Holidays are often viewed as sacrosanct, exclusively reserved for card-carrying family members only.  There are some who would never consider inviting one who isn’t a relative.  My own childhood has no memory of anyone other than family being included in holiday events, so when the invitation was given to share Thanksgiving dinner, I hesitated accepting it.

A young woman herself, my neighbor’s sincerity and warmth assured me I was welcomed.

What a picture we must have made, the two of us, as we trekked ¼ mile down that winding country road on what had to have been a chilly November day.  My little boy had no idea where we were going, or what we were going to do but was ever ready for an adventure.

I have no memory of the table setting, of the meal, of who was there.   I only remember being made to feel I had a place.

 

Hospitality isn’t about being proper, about reciprocation, or even being inclusive; it isn't about being the "hostess with the mostest," the linens, glassware, and dishes, or the elegant food.  It comes from within and is about being open and sharing self.  That is what I experienced and felt. 

I wonder if my hostess remembers that day.  I have never forgotten it, and a card is going to be sent this week, thanking her for her gracious hospitality and what it meant that Thanksgiving over 50 years ago—and what it still means today.

Thanksgiving 2017 will be spent at this same son's home.  Though I doubt he has any memory of that one from his early childhood, and I've never even shared it with him, he, too, has an "open-table" policy where any and all who have no family or place to go are invited, included, and welcomed.  

Kindness and hospitality.  The two go hand-in-hand, the results and effects impacting others far into the future.    

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers…”  Hebrews 13:2

  

   

        

      

  

"On Hikes, Chainsaws, and Limitations"

limitation:  n.  the act of limiting or the state of being limited; a restriction; a boundary, real or metaphorical, caused by some thing or some circumstance; an imperfection or shortcoming that limits something’s use or value.

In a blunder of sorts, I had inadvertently scheduled my flight out for early evening rather than early morning, giving me an extra day to spend with my family.  “Would you like to go for a hike?” my daughter asked.  “We have time.” 

“Sure.  I’d love it,” was my response.  It was a perfect fall day—not too hot, not too cold, and I had packed the proper shoes in anticipation of such an activity.

We headed out and, as we neared our destination, the foothills we were about to climb were pointed out.  If there was any question as to my inability to make the climb it was never mentioned.  Had the possibility been raised, a seed of doubt would have been planted in my mind, and I would have contemplated my own capability, considering how a stranded 72-year-old woman could be transported off a slope. 

Limitations are like that.  Doubt, coupled with fear, creates a virtual cage, a mental and emotional enclosure where we take up residence and live.  The barbed wire barrier of a prison isn’t even needed, as life is lived within the seeming comfort of the restrictions we place upon ourselves.  

Comfort, like an old, worn-out sweater or pair of shoes, is familiar but not necessarily ideal.  A first-hand experience reinforced that very point.  

Operating a chainsaw is far too dangerous and should be left to loggers of the male species.  At least that is what I had told myself repeatedly for as long as I can remember.  I not only believed it; I KNEW it.

A snow and ice storm had passed through, causing major tree damage.  Chainsaws were buzzing all over the place, though not in my hands.  That is, until an opportunity arose.

A client contacted me asking if I could clean her yard of fallen debris.  Some good-sized oak branches had come down and needed to be cut up and removed.  Heading over with my pruning saw and long-handled lopper in tow, it didn’t take long for me to realize the job would never get done with those tools, and it was time to bring out the electric chainsaw.

In my mind, using an electric chainsaw wasn't threatening whereas a gas-powered one terrified me.  Upon tackling the job I realized that a: I was not afraid, and b: An electric chainsaw which cuts through 4” diameter oak limbs is as dangerous as one which is gas-powered.

Pushed out of my comfort zone and zipping through the branches with my newly-found skill, I found myself thinking:  What other limitations have I placed on myself without even realizing it? I make statements and go about my daily life, living in a false perception.  

For example, “I don’t know how to swim, because I don’t like water,” when the truth is I have never learned.  “I can’t back a trailer,” so I make a point of never pulling one.  How hard would it be to take the time to master that skill?  “I don’t know how to dance,” therefore I don’t dance.  A pattern emerged—that of beginning with a negative, filing it in the mental box called my mind and continuing on with life, tacitly accepting it as a valid, unchanging, and absolute description of myself.

I was created to have an abundant life, not one that is marked by self-imposed limitations at every turn.  God is ever ready to provide opportunities for personal expansion and growth; it is in my hands to accept them or reject them.    

Hiking up hills, operating a chainsaw.  I won’t be climbing a mountainous peak or applying for a cutter’s job in my son-in-law’s logging company, but they are freeing experiences, breaking down the barriers of personal limitations where there are no boundaries.  

And the view is great.  

“I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”  John 10:10 

 

     

"On Gathering Together with Charlie"

“Charlie.  Charlie Owens,” he said, attaching a name to the twinkling, dark brown eyes and flash of a grin.  I had gone to the local mail center to purchase stamps so the July invoices for my gardening business could be mailed.  Since it was well into September, it was time.  He had come in to have copies made on the copy machine--3 of them.

Walking cautiously with a cane, placing his feet with care, it was apparent at a casual glance that he lives with and knows pain.  His stature indicated God declared him to be perfect when His creation was completed at a little over 5’ in height. 

The Summer of 2017 has brought unprecedented devastation to my home state of Oregon in the form of fire.  Its lush green growth and forestland is being ravaged, replaced by blackened tree trunks and desolation.  It is not an exaggeration to say the state is ablaze with no end in sight.  Lack of rain and very hot weather conditions have exacerbated any efforts to bring the forest fires under control. 

Glorious, sunny summer days with blue skies have been replaced by a grim smoke cover, causing the sun and moon to be red and producing hazardous breathing conditions due to the pollution in the air.  The advisory given is to stay indoors and to wear a breathing mask if going outside.  There is no place to escape the blight of fire.

I had completed affixing stamps to envelopes, and he had paid for his copies when the two of us began talking about the long-term damage of the fires to the timber industry.  A former employee of a large timber company, the discovery was made that we had a mutual acquaintance, a family member of mine who worked for the same company.  That was when he introduced himself with the request to pass on greetings.

The mail center wasn’t busy, so we stood and talked for quite a while—of the current ruination affecting our state, of family, of faith.

Shared values and personal spiritual beliefs resonated as he told of being an altar boy, a marriage to the “perfect” woman, respect and love taught by a father.  We were in agreement that God needs to be the base of life and all else springs from that.  And that man needs to “look up” instead of focusing on the catastrophes taking place.  “I’m short,” he said with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his voice as he lifted his eyes skyward.  “There’s no place for me to look but up.”

At the age of 69, he and his wife have 18 children, 2 of them still at home.  He shared that they pray together twice a day, as the day begins and as the day ends.  Any who gathers around the table with this family is encouraged to share their day and to pray as well.  It is Charlie’s feeling that the needs and concerns, the daily experiences of each person matters, and all benefit from that contribution.  "What a gift of faith you are giving your children," I said.  "Of faith and hope."  

Heading out the front door, we continued visiting.  “You are a delight,” I told him.  “I am so thankful to have met you.  And this, right here, is just one of the reasons I believe.”  Charlie nodded in agreement, his bright smile and demeanor touching me.

“I know,” he said.  “I thought I was just coming down to have 3 copies made, and He had other plans.”   “He is the great choreographer,” I added.

A strong case is made for church attendance and membership by many, citing this scripture:  “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”  Matthew 18:20 KJV

Charlie Owens and I would never have met in a church; we would never have shared our faith and our lives.  The encounter was not announced in a church bulletin, and it didn’t take place on a Sunday or a Wednesday, pre-determined and organized.

And yet there we were, in the middle of a Pak-Mail office, the “two gathered together.”    

   

"A Song"

It was not in a retreat to the desert or a mountaintop, but in everyday life where I was given the answer to a life-long question:  "Why am I alive?  Why was I born, and what is the point?"

"That you might know me, the One and only true living God."  And with that, a song.  


     "Do you know my Father?  Do you know my friend?  Do you know my Father?  He loves            me.  My life is in His hands.

     He's a loving Father.  He is kind and true.  He will never fail you.  He loves you.  He's 
     waiting just for you.

     Will you meet my Father?  Will you meet my friend?  Will you meet my Father?  He loves
     you.  Is your life in His hands?"


He is life, and in Him I found life and was given mine.  He is well worth knowing.  

"On Being Grounded"

grounded:  adj.  confined to stay inside, typically by a parent, as a punishment; in aviation, not allowed to fly.

grounded:  adj.  well balanced and sensible.

discipline:  v.  train (someone) to obey rules or a code of behavior, using punishment to correct disobedience.

The almost-13-year-old had been given a decision to make.  She was to choose between missing out on the birthday party of a friend at an ice skating rink, an event she had been looking forward to for days, or she was to relinquish her cell phone for 30 days. For 30 whole days she was to be "grounded," forbidden use of the instrument which is a social connection, a life-line for a pre-teen.

Her parents were not being cruel nor were they being abusive.  Being honest and forthright is the standard of this family's household, and when that standard wasn't met there were consequences. 

For many generations, corporal punishment was the typical form of discipline for children. A parent or an authority figure, perhaps a teacher or coach, deliberately caused physical pain or discomfort to a minor child in response to undesired behavior by the child.  This was done by spanking or slapping the child with an open hand or an implement such as a paddle. The premise of it was that the fear of the punishment would be a deterrent from any future miscreant conduct.   

In my own life, my mother had a wooden stick used for stirring paint as her paddling stick. When she could no longer deal with me, I was taken to the wood shed by Dad.  The size of his hand seemed enormous as he paddled me.  While I'm certain there was pain involved, I don't remember ever feeling that I did not deserve the punishment I received.  I always knew my actions warranted that response from my parents, and highly suspect it was my sassy "mouth," the need to have the last word, that pushed them over.  

Children enter a family and a home without experience.  It is the role of the parents to nurture, guide, to train and to teach them the values and principles which will be their moral and spiritual foundation as they live the rest of their lives.   In the home they learn, both from example and daily experiences, how to interact with others, behavior which is acceptable or unacceptable, and what it means to be disciplined.  It is not for the parent to be the one who controls, but to use every day incidents to encourage development and the growth of self-control.    

In recent years "grounding," the restriction placed on a child from an activity or favorite object, has become a preferred technique used in discipline and training, rather than that of exacting both physical and emotional pain. 

There is a clear correlation between that of earthly parents and the Heavenly One in methods of discipline and training.

God is omnipotent, all powerful, and there is a widespread perception, a false one, that He is cruel and mean, that He is controlling, and is the picture of One who abuses power.  In truth He is none of those things but, rather, the epitome' of loving parent. 

He is the innovator of instruction, of utilizing every day life to teach a better way to live that life. At times the experiences become quite difficult and harsh, but that is only because of our stubbornness and refusal to work with Him, to allow Him into our lives.  Wake-up calls are often ignored, and He is given no other option than to apply more pressure.  "If there was any other way....."  "Eternity is a long, long time."

To be grounded in aviation means a pilot is not allowed to fly.  That same term applied by God simply means my "wings" are clipped, and I have been placed in a set of circumstances not of my choosing.  Life as I had planned it has been altered.  The experience can be as mundane as weather conditions affecting a train trip, causing a delay, or as dramatic as retirement plans being altered due to an illness, a stock market crash, a natural disaster.

As a young woman, I had life as a mother all set.  I knew how many children I was going to have and had determined I would decide when I was going to have them.  Nothing went as I had anticipated.  One of my early experiences at being "grounded," I eventually realized I quite simply had not been allowed to have my own way.  And that is the point and purpose of discipline at the hand of God.  His way is a better way.

I questioned my grandgirl about her "grounding" experience, asking her if she felt the punishment was effective and what she learned from it.  "I have never lied since," she said, "which, that was like 2 months ago.  I do feel that taught me something.  Taught me a lesson to never lie, always tell the truth.....because (lying) can get you in trouble, can hurt someone's feelings." 

The terms discipline and punishment have such negative undercurrents attached to them in today's society that there is a reluctance to apply them.  However, when they come from a base of love and wisdom they are necessary and valuable.

In being "grounded," at His hand, one becomes grounded.  And you may quote me on that.    



"It is never fun to be corrected.  In fact, at the time it is always painful.  But if we learn to obey by being corrected, we will do right and live at peace."    

   

     
      



  

"On the Endgame"

endgame:  n.  the final stage of an extended process or course of events.

"Ladonna----"  Focused on pruning a massive climbing rose, his voice startled me, and I heard him before I saw him.  From the other side of the fence the upper portion of his face was visible as he peeked over.  A former landscaper and one who is a peer, our conversations when I am working in his neighbor's garden are often either about gardening or subjects relating to our age, as we are both in our 70's. 

It has been the never-ending Winter this year, and Spring days with sunny warmth have been few and far between.  We lamented about that, and he told of his recent knee replacement surgery and the recuperative process and progress. 

The speed with which time is passing entered into our discussion and with it the reality of being a "senior" and the brief amount of time left in our lives.  "We're all on the same conveyor belt," he said, "and when it stops, it stops."  His belief is that when death comes there is nothing to follow.  It wasn't necessary to express my belief that physical death is just a stepping stone into an eternal realm.

Not many people awaken in the morning when their eyes first crack open with the knowledge that "Today is the last day I am going to live life on this earth."  Yet every single day death, the end of physical life, becomes the personal experience of over 150,000 people around the world regardless of age, station in life, or where they live.

In the realm of athletics the end of the game, the last few seconds of play, may result in a win or loss.  Often a "hail Mary pass" in football or a 3-point shot from center court in basketball is executed in the hopes of coming out the victor.  In games such as bridge or chess the endgame is the final stage when few pieces or cards remain, and they need to be played carefully in order to win.  How, then, can that term have a spiritual application?

My mother once told me of an experience she had; some would call it a vision.  "I was walking down a road," she said, "and I came up to a door.  The door opened, and there He stood, just as big as life."  "Who?" I asked.  "Well, God," she answered.  "Who do you think?"  "Were you afraid of Him," I questioned.  "No.  Should I have been?" 

This is the endgame for each and every person alive--one last step, one last breath before that door opens up, and we enter into eternity.

Perhaps life has been lived with very little thought given to or about God, the daily routine filled with activities in a busy social schedule. There have been things to do, people to see and places to go to, and time is at a premium. With bucket lists yet to be fulfilled and goals to be reached before life comes to an end, no room or time was left for Him.

Oftentimes people speak of living each day as though it was their last by focusing on the treatment of friends and family.  I would suggest the attention be turned the opposite direction--toward God as He is where we all are headed.

There will come a time when there are no more chess pieces or cards left, no more plays to be made.  It will be over.  Be prepared for the inevitable, the unavoidable.  Make certain your endgame is your "A" game.    


"This very night your life is being demanded of you.  And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?  So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God."

  



  

"On Absolutes and Precepts"

Each and every day the ocean’s tides rise and fall. 

Each and every day Earth, the planet upon which we live, rotates on its axis.  In a journey of approximately 365 days, our year, it circles the Sun, the center of our solar system, a system filled with it and countless other planets, moons, comets, asteroids, meteoroids, and celestial objects.

Each and every day humankind lives with weather.  It is all around us, all the time.  An important part of our lives, we have no control over it.  Instead, it often controls and influences how and where we live, what we do, what we wear, what we eat, and our emotional and physical well-being.

Each and every day physical life begins.  Conception takes place when an egg and sperm meet, and a cocoon is provided for development and growth within the womb of the mother.  Several months later, when life can survive independently, birth takes place when an infant is delivered into this world.    

 

Each and every day physical life ends.  It may be due to age, tragedy, or a malady, but when the essence of a person leaves the body, death occurs.

Examples of absolutes, these are also known as facts of science.  Science, however, is only an observer, a discoverer, and not the originator or creator.  Whether launching a space shuttle, constructing an underwater tunnel, investigating wildlife in a jungle, or planning and initiating a plethora of projects ad infinitum, science cannot ignore these and multiple other absolutes.  It is governed and controlled by nonvariables and must operate within those bounds and limitations. 

  

Science is often portrayed as opposing and challenging God and places the burden of proof upon Him to prove His very existence.  However, even if one does not believe in God as Creator, he/she is still living life with Him, and that includes the realm of science as well.  Science may reject the Creator, but it cannot ignore the exactness and precision of all that is created, of all that is.   

  

God is an absolute.  In the same way facts of science cannot be ignored, there are basic facts about Him and His personality that cannot be overlooked when developing a relationship with Him, when living life with Him. 

Block by block, He builds atop the foundation, which is Him.  Certain principles apply, and they are absolute as He is absolute; they will never change as He will never change.

precept:  n.  a guiding principle or rule, esp. one that guides personal conduct

Precept #1:  ALL things are spiritual.

Or another way of expressing it—All things are spiritual. The base of all in this life, this world, this galaxy, this universe is spiritual, not physical.  We are a part of God’s world, and He is a spiritual being.  The need, then, is to have spiritual vision in order to see things as they really are.  Viewing life any other way is the same as looking at a black and white photograph of a sunset.  Perhaps the basic form, the skeleton as it were, is evident, but none of the color, beauty, and substance is visible.  One can look at it yet not really “see” it.  Seek, ask for “eyes that see.”  

  

Precept #2:  Things are not as they seem to be. 

“It’s bigger than a bread box.”  Adding to the first precept, this one reinforces the wisdom, foresight, intelligence, and thought that goes into our everyday lives.  Even with spiritual vision our finite mind is limited.  Mundane, everyday experiences carry with them the basis of discipline, a lesson, a crossroads—all part of the whole of life designed by the One who made us.

Precept #3:  First things first—the inner first, then the outer.  The outer without the inner is worthless.

The inner of a person is one’s spiritual part; the outer is one’s physical part.  One need only take a look in the mirror and consider where time, money, and energy has been expended in life to find the answer to the question of which has been and is the most important part. Only God can develop the spiritual part of us and to focus on the outer only is the creation of a very fragile shell.  

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven…..For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

“Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness.”

Precept #4:  If you don’t make a decision, the decision is made for you.

People often want to postpone the consideration of God in their lives into the “someday.”  Motivated by the desire to live life “my way,” there is a fear that God might mess that plan up, so He is kept at bay.  Nothing is done half-way with God, and He does require a commitment. Speaking personally, the pay-off is beyond measure and that allegiance one which has never been regretted.  Never to be forgotten is the fact that in every person’s life the time does come when there is no more “someday.”

“Whoever is not with me is against me.”

Precept #4:  If you wait to see, you’ve waited too long.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”  This position has its problems, and the price paid for standing and living in it is a hefty one. 

“And without faith it is impossible to please God, for whoever would approach him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.”

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.”

Precept #6:  There is a better way.   

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways…”  

Precept #7:  There are no skipped steps; there are no shortcuts.

Life will be lived, lessons will be learned in the order planned and designed by the Master.  There is no game of “Leapfrog” in His plan. 

Precept #8:  Just keep going.

Nothing is ever gained by curling up in a fetal position or sitting down in protest.  Regardless of how difficult circumstances may be there is an end and moving forward is the best approach.

Precept #9:  Not a moment too soon, not a moment too late.

Timing.  It’s always about the timing. 

Precept #10:  Stay in your own yard.

Mind your own business.  Each one of us has more than enough on our own “plate” that it behooves us to focus on those things which have only to do with us.  Stepping outside of that generally comes from a place of judgment or the desire or effort to do God’s work for Him.  It never, ever works.

“Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.”

Precept # 11:  Do not add to; do not take away from.

God means what He says and says what He means.  When understanding is difficult, ask what He means.  Applying my reasoning to anything He says is dead-end.

Precept #12:  In order to become a teacher, you must be willing to be taught.

willing:  adj.  disposed or consenting; inclined; cheerfully consenting or ready

Absolutes.  Precepts. 

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.  And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand.

   

  

            

"On Contentment"

  

contentment:  n.  quality or state of being content

content:  adj. in a state of satisfaction; satisfied about a particular circumstance

The sun was out, a hint of warm even, with the temperature at 50 degrees, a welcome change from the freezing rain, ice storm, snow, and icy roads which have plagued my area for the past month.  Cleaning a house was on the schedule, but my client directed me to the back yard instead.

The space is filled with raised beds.  Several are filled with winter greens.  I set about weeding and removing leaves damaged by the freeze then headed to a bed of strawberries.  Methodically working my way around the bed with pruners and weeding tool, the thought struck me—“This is where I am most at peace.”

I am a farmer’s daughter.  Perhaps I have been in denial of that description.  It is so “earthy,” so unglamorous with not a single hint of sophistication.  And yet it is what and who I am.  Solitary work, on hands and knees in the dirt is where I am at home.  I am content there.

What, exactly, is contentment, and where can it be found?

For some, contentment can be an elusive thing.  Ever searching, ever striving for someone or something to bring about that sense of being settled, being at peace, of “feeling good,” one’s life can be in a constant upheaval, as though on a carousel, going round and round, up and down with the scenery never changing.

Consider the children.  Most families have had the Christmas gifting experience where, after all the thought, time, and money invested in choosing the “perfect” gift for a child, he/she finds an empty box and is completely entertained and enthralled, crawling in and out of it, placing it upon the head, putting bows or wrapping paper in it then dumping it and starting all over again.  That is contentment.  With no thought beyond the moment, no cares or concerns for what tomorrow might bring, it comes from within.  And either we are or we aren't--content, that is.
 

Take a child to a creek or the beach in the summertime, and he/she will spend hours creating channels and dams with the wet sand or dirt, collecting beautiful rocks or shells, shoveling with chunks of wood, discovering and checking out insects or frogs, the wildlife that is right under their noses.  That is contentment.  Simply living life, and the dollar expenditure—zero.  It cannot be bought.

I wonder sometimes if the concept, the idea of contentment ever enters the minds of most people.  Life is so hurried, so frenetic, mankind resembles ants in an anthill. Ever moving at a great rate of speed and yet each moving in his own direction, they never really pay attention to one another or their own inner state.  “Going nowhere fast” is the perfect description.
 

So where does contentment come from?  

I cannot speak for others, only for myself. I have no doubt many in this life have found contentment through their employment, their families, a "calling," a "cause," a purpose. 
For me, however, contentment has been the result of living my life in a spiritual manner, having a friendship with my Creator.  With definite experiences of comparison from my past, acceptance of the day-to-day events of my life has been a natural result in the context of that relationship.  Do I live my life in a nirvana state of peace, tranquility, happiness, and contentment?  No, I do not, but I am ever a work in progress.

Contentment is a priceless gift.  It is like a rhythmic, steady heartbeat which courses through one's being, never altering or changing.  May each of you be blessed with it in your own lives.



"I have learned to be satisfied with what I have and whatever happens." 
"Now there is great gain in godliness with contentment."