"On My and Mine"

my: determiner. Belonging to me. Associated with me. In the possession of me.

mine: pronoun.  My; belonging to me; that which belongs to me.

"It just happened," she said. "You got here at the perfect time."

'She' is a 93-year-old gardening client who has the spirit and spunk of a 13-year-old. For the past nine years you can usually find me on Mondays mowing Lucille's lawn or working in her garden--at least during the gardening season. Several years ago she informed me, "You can't quit until I no longer need you." Apparently (with tongue in cheek), the decision as to when I retire rests in her hands. 

'It' was the cord of her telephone charger, tightly wrapped around the beater bar of her vacuum cleaner. Unable to pull it out, she had resorted to the informational booklet which came with it and had come to the conclusion the only way to retrieve it was to cut it.

The weather forecasters had predicted a hot one today--in the upper 90's. It was my intention to get out to work early in order to beat the heat, but that hadn't happened. It was already almost noon by the time I made it to Lucille's.

This sparkler of a human always opens the door to chat when she realizes I have arrived with my mower. This morning was no different. After telling me of her dilemma, I asked "Would you like me to come in and see what I can do?" 

She'd succeeded in wrapping the entire length of the cord, and it took me a while to get it started, but once I did, it began unreeling off the bar. 

I was her knight in shining armor. As I headed off to mow her lawn, leaving her to finish her vacuuming, I thought of her comment about arriving at the perfect time. 

My life is not my own.

A pervasive fallacy of possession and ownership has spread throughout humankind. Property (known as private) is bought and sold, and the transaction is recorded at a local courthouse.  Automobiles are purchased or exchanged, and a title verifies the deal. Selling either is impossible without a piece of paper indicating the right to possession--mine.

Native Americans had a different view from the Europeans and Americans of today. They believed no one owned the land and that the land belonged to everyone in the tribe. They could not conceive land ownership was respectable. The land itself was for the use of everyone in the village, and a person's right to use it was temporary. "My" and "mine" did not exist. 

The idea of ownership carries with it the concept of control and authority. "That house, property, or car is mine, and no one can tell me what I can or cannot do with it." Children are often viewed in that same light as well. On a more personal level--"It's my body, and I have the right to do whatever I choose." Does that sound familiar? "If I want to color my hair purple, I will. If I want to be tatted, I can." On and on and on...and the laws of the land have reinforced that attitude, labeling them "rights."

In truth, I own nothing. I entered this world with nothing, and I will leave it with nothing--at least nothing that is physical or tangible. The title to my vehicle, the deed to my property, and any and all of my other possessions will be left behind. "My" isn't worth much, is it?  

Not a one of us possesses the ability to control the beat of our hearts or the capability of our lungs to take in air and process it, allowing our bodies to function. We do not own a single thing that we apply the word "my" or "mine" to. Our homes can be burned or flooded, businesses shut down due to a downturn in the economy. Our lives and those of our family members can be altered and changed forever because of health issues. We control nothing.

I live with the knowledge that my life is not my own. I breathe and function at the hand of my creator. I may plan out my days, but He is the one who actually brings them about. 

The earth and everything in it is not in possession of us earthlings. It belongs to God, and His will will be done. 

My challenge to you is this: The next time you hear yourself think or say "my" or "mine," consider the truth. Consider it in the spiritual context. The sacrifice of Christ on the cross and His resurrection resulted in redemption--for humanity--for you and for me. The price was paid. Your life is not your own.

I was at Lucille's at "just the right time"--not because I planned it that way, but because I have a daily planner who coordinates my schedule and my life. My life is not my own. I wouldn't have it any other way.

...do you not know that your body is a temple 

of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God,

and that you are not your own?

For you were bought with a price...

I Cor. 6:19, 20

"On the Blessing of Life"

blessing: n. Some kind of divine or supernatural aid, or reward. Good fortune. 

life: n. The state of being alive or living; the state of organisms preceding their death, characterized by biological processes such as metabolism and reproduction and distinguishing them from inanimate objects.

Blessings come in many different forms and shapes--the air we breathe, the breath we take; inner peace in the midst of a storm; human touch or the love and devotion of an animal. As humans, our lives are filled with them.

My gardening business has consumed my life for the past eighteen years. The days have been long, the work arduous and demanding. Personal time has been at a premium as my clients' gardens have been a first priority. My own garden, weed-ridden and neglected, could have been a poster with the caption "The cobbler's children have no shoes."

Over time--and it has happened gradually--my work load has lightened. Within the first two years of self-employment, I had seventy clients. I worked long hours, seven days a week. That lessened some when I moved to another area, but I still had an extensive list with large gardens to tend. Several clients passed away, others moved. I opted out of several jobs, ones which needed a crew of young men instead of a seventy-something single woman to care for them.

In the past year, I have been given time to work in my own garden.

For several years, I have wanted a wild flower garden--flowers which attract bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds. Planting anything from seed and having a flower grow has never been my strong suit, and typically that is how natural gardens are started.

While digging through a cupboard in my utility room a few months ago, I found a packet of seeds. It stated on the outside of the package that they were perennial flowers--which means they last from year to year--and that they will attract butterflies and hummingbirds. I felt like I had found the mother lode.

The date on the package was 2016. The viability of four year old seeds was in question, but I was on a mission. My soil is in bad shape, another negative before I even started, but determination took over. I scraped and scraped the hard-pack (digging wasn't even an option), mixed in bags of potting medium and compost from my compost bin. As I sprinkled the small packet of seeds on the prepared area, I was filled with more wishful thinking than hope.

I faithfully watered them every day. Getting down on my hands and knees with my glasses on, I checked for any sign of germination and growth. Success!!--as small green sprouts gradually appeared. What I did not realize was many of them were either weeds, which had responded to the love and care, or vegetable starts which came from the veggies I had composted. I could have raised tomatoes, squash, and cucumbers as well.

It has taken a while to weed out the unwanted growth, but I now have a wildflower garden. As I drove toward my home yesterday, my eyes caught blooms on the plants. They cannot be called lush and prolific, but I will provide mulch and give them opportunity to grow in the future. 

I have been blessed with life; it is evident.

In this age of materialism, we live with life all around us and think nothing of it. Children are born into the world and grow up before our eyes. The lawn needs to be mowed or I need a haircut. We trip and fall, breaking bones, or "catch a cold" (though I don't think anyone seriously sets out to do that) and, with no effort on our part, the body heals.  

Those tiny specks of seeds the size of a pepper flake contained life--God-given life. I provided the medium for them to grow in and watered them, but I did not...cannot cause them to grow. 

This is my challenge to you: The next time you say or think God is nowhere to be found, look around and note all that is living. Humankind has never been able to create life--and never will. 

We have been blessed with life. He is the creator of life. He is life. 

                                                Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; 

                                                Praise Him, all creatures here below;

                                                Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host;

                                                Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!

You have granted me life and steadfast love, 

and your care has preserved my spirit.

Job 10:12

"On Being Free to Be"

fun: n. amusement, enjoyment or pleasure

I was on my hands and knees, weeding an area around a lovely pond for a gardening client when the thought, This is fun, passed through my mind. The next to follow was: Why would I even think this is fun? But it was. 

Fun is not a word generally applied to grubbing out Stinky Bob weeds--so described by another of my gardening clients because they do stink--I'm not sure where "Bob" came from, though I doubt it was ever personal...or Forget-Me-Nots--given that label since once you plant them, you'll have them forever, never to be forgotten...or a profusion of other weed varieties growing in the landscape surrounding the small waterway that led down into the pond, newly stocked with fish and flashing a bright water lily. 

Perhaps it was fun because the area was overrun with weeds, and I knew my clients were going to be surprised when they discovered it was cleared out--perhaps. Then again, maybe the soothing sound of gurgling water as it gradually flowed down the slope towards the pond before being pumped back up to begin its journey all over again made it fun--maybe. I could say it was because bright, blue-bodied dragonflies with transparent wings flitted around while I was working, but I know better. I know that true enjoyment comes from within, not without. 

I began writing over six years ago. In May, 2019, I self-published a book, a compilation of blog posts I had written. I joined the Oregon Christian Writers but I have never considered myself to be in the same league or class as my fellow members. Unlike many published, successful authors, I have no training and no credentials. I certainly don't have an agent. 

I have been in an ongoing struggle with self-doubt since my first published post. Do I really have anything to say? Is it anything anyone wants to hear about or read? Just who do I think I am? I simply cannot call myself a writer. That term applies to others--not to me. In that frame of mind, I shut down; I become silent. 

While in my garden today, I was watering some cosmos and a wild flower bed I planted from seed. I've never been successful with seeds, but these are thriving, largely because I am tending them. I provided good soil for them, giving them consistent water so they could sprout. I have given them the environment they need so they can eventually bloom. I am giving them loving care.

Nothing is more exciting, I thought, than planting a seed and watching it grow--whether in the physical or the spiritual. Bingo! THAT is what my God-given words are as I place them on paper. They are seeds that He tends and cares for, with the potential to bring about growth and change in the one who reads them. 

What struck me is the fact I need to forget the "writer" label and the semantics and just do what has been given to me to do--write. I was given a voice to use, not to stifle. 

And that is why cleaning up around the pond was fun today. My mind was freed. I gave no thought as to whether or not I qualify as a writer. Instead I thought of my experience and how best to describe it when I returned home--how to write about it and deliver its message. Thoughts of the current global pandemic didn't touch me. I was oblivious to the hatred and anger permeating my country, and the dissension and division between the political left and right never entered my mind. 

I am a person first--one who is a grandmother, plays the piano, gardens, and...writes.       

God is good--He is also pretty sneaky.

"Just Ask with Your Heart"

 prayer: n. A practice of communicating with one’s God, the specific words or methods used for praying.

 

Prayer is one of those things you either practice or you don’t. You either believe in it or you view it as something only the weak and feeble-minded engage in—although more than one such person has thrown a “hail-Mary” prayer to a God they don’t even believe in when times get really rough. It could be said that desperate times call for desperate measures.

For a person of faith, petitioning God is an important part of daily life. We all have needs and concerns, worries and problems, and God has said we may bring those to Him and leave them at His feet. Some requests are personal; others are in behalf of family and friends. Many people make a point of praying for people they don’t know and have never met. The current state of chaos in our nation is more than enough reason to become a pray-er.

How does one pray? Prayer is a simple act of communicating with God one-on-one. However, as with many facets of a spiritual life, how-to’s abound, presented by those who view life with God as a series of methods and techniques.

An online search revealed “The Proper Way to Pray,” along with your choice of four, five—or even nine—steps to follow. What do you say when you pray? Instructions are available for that as well.

I had a dream last night…or it might have been the night before. In my dream, I was having a conversation about prayer and praying with a young woman. She was not one to speak openly about her spiritual life, but she had either prayed for someone or about something. Soft-spoken and quite reticent, she very quietly said, “I just asked with my heart.”

Profound, simple, and true—that is how you pray. Prayer is never about the words. It is about standing before God as the innermost part of one’s being silently cries out to Him.

How do you pray? Just ask with your heart.

 

I

"On Being a Blunderer"

blunder: n. A clumsy or embarrassing mistake.

grace: n. Elegant movement; balance or poise.


Some of you have it all together. I am not one of those. I am more of a blunderer. Over the years I have learned that does not mean I am a failure. It simply means that "grace" will never be a description applied to me. 

A friend and I decided to try out the food of a local restaurant using the current method of take-out. Due to the pandemic of COVID-19, groups of people are not allowed to gather together but many restaurateurs make their fare available by means of pick-up and delivery.

We perused the online menu, made our choices and ordered. The food was to be ready by 5:30, so we headed on over. The restaurant was in a different location than I thought, but GPS easily delivered us.  

We had arrived early, and the parking lot was empty--duh--so we sat, waiting for the text message telling us our order was ready at the pick-up window. 

While waiting, we were discussing the best way to get back to the house upon leaving. I have been in the area plenty of times before, but with traffic and three lane choices it can be confusing as to the correct lane one needs to be in coming up to the stop light--left, center, or right. One lane heads downtown, another to the freeway, and then there's the correct one. I decided to walk out to the street and check so there wouldn't be a mix-up when we exited the lot. 

Confirmation was made--We should be in the middle lane in order to be heading the direction we needed to go.

It has been almost a year and a half since I fell and broke my jaw while walking across a street. My boot caught the top of a raised surface in the crosswalk, and down I went. Ever since then, I pay very close attention to the surface I am walking on. Head down, I started back to the car. I came around the right rear bumper to get in the passenger side and, as I reached for the door handle, the door opened. It was a young woman, laughing heartily. Another car had pulled in beside us, and I was getting ready to open the door on the wrong car! "You've just made my day," she said. I was laughing as well, though maybe a bit hysterically. My unspoken thought was, I'm glad to hear that, but it was sincere. Laughter does bring joy.

I have always admired women who are what I view as classics. In my mind, I would like to be one who has poise and grace, is soft-spoken and just plain lovely. Nothing about me falls in those categories, and yet...I have been made in the image of God, and He is well-pleased.

Self-acceptance is a gift from Him, and I am grateful for that. He has taught me to accept myself and to laugh at myself as well. I have no doubt He is entertained and chuckles as well. 

"On Losing It"

discombobulating: v. To throw into a state of confusion; to befuddle or perplex.


I paid for my groceries and headed out to the truck. It was at the end of a long day--a very long one where I had spent seven hours doing hands-and-knees gardening for clients. I needed some food staples so had stopped by the store before heading home. Arriving at my truck, I glanced down at the cart and realized it was empty. Discombobulated to say the least, I realized I had walked off after paying without bagging the food. I headed back in and retrieved the items from the clerk who had set them aside, knowing I would return. "It's been a long day," I told him.

My mind was spinning as I headed home. A couple of weeks earlier, I had some grocery items taken from my cart as I was digging in my purse for the keys to unlock the door--At least, that is what I thought had happened. Did I do the same thing then? Did I pay for my groceries and just walk away? The memory of that scenario added to the confusion of the current one.

"I'm losing it," I told a friend. "I'm just plumb losing it." In an effort and attempt to encourage and support me, I was told that he, too, has forgotten to do something or misplaced items."Don't give me that," I said. "Those are the same things I said to my mother when she was in the beginning stage of Alzheimer's.--They happen to everyone, Mom."

The experiences sat on my mind as I wrestled with them--and with God. 

Mom lived with Alzheimer's for ten years, passing away when she was around my age, and I'm 75. Some suggest it is inherited, asking if I am afraid of a similar fate. I have lived with the belief that it was a path my Mother had to walk, but that does not mean it is mine. I still believe that but the incident was unsettling.

My mind was eased as I recollected I had paid for the earlier items in the self-check. If I had left them sitting, the clerk on hand--or the next customer--would have told me. I've had people track me down when I've left cash in the machine. Yes, that's happened to me as well. And I do remember looking down at the deli chicken in the cart as its delectable odor wafted up as I headed to the truck.  

In my life as I walk with God, there are several basic things that will never change.
     #1: My life is not my own. 
     #2: I can control nothing.
     #3: God is love.
     #4: I either trust Him...or I don't. 

And so I begin another day, full of surprises and adventures. My God is a good traveling companion.

He said to his disciples,"Therefore I tell you,

do not worry about your life, what you will eat,

or about your body, what you will wear.

Luke 12:22

"On Being Held Hostage"

hostage: n. One who is not free to choose their own course of action. 

hostage situation: n. Events whereby the actor(s) (i.e., the hostage takers) are holding one or more persons against their will.


On December 31, 2019, while those countries in our world who use the Gregorian calendar were celebrating the beginning of a New Year, China reported a cluster of cases of pneumonia in people associated with a seafood wholesale market in Wuhan, Hubei Province. Less than three weeks later, on January 19, 2020, a 35-year-old man with a 4-day history of cough and a fever went to an urgent care clinic in Washington State. He disclosed he had returned to Washington on January 15 after traveling to visit family in Wuhan, China. On January 21, 2020, the first diagnosis of novel coronavirus in America was confirmed. 

The Wuhan Virus, the initial description given due to its origin, is a deadly virus which has expanded to touch every corner of the globe. Hundreds of thousands of people around the world have been sickened and thousands of others have died. The virus knows no  discrimination when it comes to income, background, education, or occupation. Those in high places are as susceptible as the lowliest of low. No particular country in the world, including the United States, is favored as it has brought the governments of the world and its inhabitants to their knees, begging for mercy.

Here in America a variety of measures have been put in place in order to try to limit the amount of exposure which may take place during daily life and its subsequent spread. The governor of each individual state has issued a variety of mandates, many of which are causing a grave and serious impact on the nation's economic health and the lifestyle of its citizens. Schools--from daycare up through universities--are shut down. The number of people allowed to meet together have caused physical social interaction to fade into non-existence. Church meetings, going to the gym, eating out at a local restaurant, enjoying sporting events--whether as a spectator or participant--none are allowed.

"Social distancing" is the term--I am to keep at least a 6' distance between me and the person nearest me. The initial suggestion to wear a mask for protection has now become a requirement when out in public. "Sheltered in" or "lockdown" is the wording used to reinforce the stand of the government to minimize becoming infected by the insidious, silent virus through self-imposed restrictions. "Stay home. Save lives" is the theme song of this New Year, 2020. 

Our borders are closed, preventing any from out of the country to enter; air travel is rare; small businesses across the country are shuttered. The orders were issued, and millions of us have obediently complied. Life as we knew it is completely altered. 

Why? Why would an entire nation of people respond so quickly--and so submissively? One could say this invisible monster has taken us hostage. I am going to suggest the virus is not the one holding the people of America hostage, but fear. The willingness to obey came about readily; fear was--and is--the culprit instigating and feeding the beast.

The initial response to COVID-19 was for the population across this land to storm stores, clearing the shelves of toilet paper and paper towels. Hand sanitizers and the ingredients to make them quickly followed as panic ensued. Grocery stores were unable to keep up with the demand for basic food items such as flour, rice, and beans as the fear surged. Fear of what? With restaurants closed, the stocking up of food makes sense. Keeping one's hands sanitized as a preventive measure doesn't seem unreasonable, but no one has come up with an explanation as to why there is a need to hoard large quantities of paper products.

Fear is like that, though. It has no rationale or common sense and no voice of reason.

Fear is the stuff that anxiety and panic attacks are made of. It causes total and complete debilitation, and that debilitation has permeated my country. Fear is the antithesis of peace. It is impossible for the two to share the same space and does not create an environment for health, either physical or spiritual.

In this electronic age where information is immediately transmitted around the world, some folk have found themselves glued to the television or the Internet, awaiting word of where and when the pervasive, insidious virus is expected to strike next. Images of horror are broadcast along with personal stories of life-and-death situations as many succumb to the disease and others recover. For many viewers, these reports only cause the fear to grow.

This encounter with COVID-19 has a war-like feel--against an enemy with the capability of sneaking in the back door and the potential of wiping humankind out. While the virus is very contagious, it appears to be less destructive in our nation than initially predicted. Fear embellishes, amplifies, and colors the most basic of things. It has had a field day with this one. 

COVID-19 set in motion a common, shared experience world-wide, and it has been exacerbated and propelled by fear. We were created as humans to touch, to share time and space. The mandates to wear a mask, hiding facial expressions; the 6' distancing rule, which does indeed create isolation; the perspective that each person we meet may be a carrier of the virus and, therefore, needs to be treated as a potential hazard, not a person--These contradict the very nature of our creation as human beings.

Hostage situations are combative ones with the police or military coming out in force with SWAT gear--their heavy body armor, armored vehicles, and heavy duty ballistics. The goal is always to bring about freedom for the one(s) being held hostage with no loss of life.

As humans we have two parts--the outer and the inner. The outer is the physical part, and the inner the spiritual, including the mind. This hostage situation, with the goal of setting the mind free from fear can never be accomplished by a SWAT team with its formidable equipment. It can happen only at the hand of God.

How does one deal with fear? And what, really, are we afraid of? Those are very personal, individual questions, ones which can only be answered in a searching of the soul before God. 

Personally, I have no fear of death. I don't even have a fear of the virus. As a person of faith, I know my life is not my own. Control of life--and death--is a fallacy. That control is not in my hands. 

Our country--and the world--is going to come out of this chaotic episode known as COVID-19. How are we going to deal with life as that takes place? And after? In fear or in freedom from fear?

May you find peace of mind in His presence. 

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; 
for fear has to do with punishment...
1 John 4:18

For God has not given us the spirit of fear; 

but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

2 Timothy 1:7