My Writing

I utilize Medium, Simily and Substack, if you are really interested in reading my work.  

I'm feeling the pageviews from Singapore have other intentions. Working on getting rid of this blog.

Thank you.

Word Picture for 2023

 

Word Picture for 2023

Imagination

Every year since I started blogging, I have a word picture. This year, I chose Imagination. In November, I drove over to Ohio, where I worked as I wrote my novels ten years ago. The flat land fueled my imagination.

I started back at writing as my work schedule demands less of my "off" time. As I took in the scenerary, I thought, this is my word. My imagination recharged to write novels. It feels as unlimited as this blue sky over flat farmland. Who knows what will grow this year.

Picture/Word of the Year-2022

 My picture/word reveal for 2022, "Revive."

My dog at the beginning of March became lethargic.I put a request out on Facebook for prayers, not for healing, but for comfort. He's an old dog, but until that day, Harrison, at fourteen, was lively with bright eyes, only slightly clouded. We half carried him to the car. My heart broke as legs gave out underneath him. We waited in the car until it was time for him to go in. After a while, they helped us into the exam room. The young vet palpated his abdomen and suggested an x-ray.As we waited for the resluts, he didn't fight to have his nails trimmed and he hates having his feet touched.

Finally, the news came. A tumor grew around his liver and spleen. She didn't suggest putting him to sleep that night or soon, she only said, "You'll know." A few prescriptions came home with us and a suggestion from a friend to use can food seemed to help turn the course. I was cautiously hopeful. I cried at the end of Toy Story 4, as I imagined saying good bye to my long time friend.

A few days, after many mornings of watching if his chest rose, he got stronger. He crawled the stairs.

By the end of March, in this picture, he loved his walks again. They were shorter, but he anxiously watched as I put on walking shoes and grabbed bags. He needed help to get him into the car, but happiness crossed his face.

I started calling him Lazarus. I felt he came back from the dead. He improved every day. He revived. Now, these last few weeks, he has returned to puppy behavior, panty raids, tearing up paper, and attacking the cat. Not just revived, but full of life! Was he anticipating a midnight visit with Santa?

Revive. Harrison's recovery is a symbol for much to revive in the coming year. God gave me more time with Harrison and that gave me hope in a situation that was one of the hardest I have gone through. The evening of that horrid day, my faithful pal laid at my feet, as I was alone. God knew I needed that physical presence of an earthly being, who wouldn't say platitudes. 

Dreams that seemed buried and long forgotten will be revived in 2022. I heard and believe that. I am really writing again. The death shrouds  that kept my flame diminished for writing fell to my feet. A vision I had of working with children thirty years ago came to life in August. So, similar to what I had imagined in 1991, on a prayful morning and  had forgotten, until I saw in the flesh, kids coming up to me for hugs. Confirmation. Revive.

So hang on my dear readers who have been waiting for more novels. I see me writing and finishing them the first part of 2022. It is still a process with editing and publishing, but Godspeed on Revive. Circumstances change and mostly my grit returned to favor this dream.

Like Harrison, an old, almost dead dog returning to puppy vigor, revival will be full tilt. Maybe the dreams were buried or on life support, kept alive with half hopes, but I believe the excitement with discipline, trusting God, will return to life more abundantly. What do you see God reviving in your life?

2 Corinthians 5:17 — King James Version (KJV 1900)

17 Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.

Peace in a Weary World

 

As I write this, a front howls through our area. Thankfully, only wind and rain fight with the untypically warm temperatures for the end of fall. They dropped with the front passing; sixty one to thirty seven degrees. I hear about the tornadoes overnight in southern states of Kentucky, Arkansas, Illinois. The death toll of historic proportions, the headlines scream, as well as damage we have not seen in that area in years. And maybe the longest tornado on ground, in history.

We're ending the second week of Advent. This week named Peace. Last Friday, as we approached Peace week, it flowed over me. Walking my dog in calmer weather in the evening, catching the Christmas lights, solutions vanquished problems I worked on. Being in God's will, I could say for certain, as it was second Friday in December, I knew peace and rest. It is well.

The next scene in my novel, my work in progress, I saw. I had lost seven chapters with an unexpected computer update a few years ago, so I have been trying to capture what I wrote and wondering if that is really the way I should go. I must admit, some days like the the lost chapters, I had lost interest. Many life struggles lived in the shadow of "I must write," making my novel seem like a mountain. I'll also blame Facebook, which is easy to read, and easily interupted. I felt writing a toll road that I didn't want to travel, but only occasionally. I sprint for a day, then sputtered off course.

This peace I experienced that evening told me everything will work out. My mission is with kids, now. My little patient has made strides over the past six months. I struggled at first as grief I had to suppress over another case and the temporary status of this case checked my heart. By day three, though, his small hand reached for mine and I think he hooked me by that jesture. He does well because I cultivate learning with everything we do. I lead the horse to water and finally, he has taken some drinks. I feel I am where I am to be.

Sunday, members of our family joined David and I in church. I chose the balcony so they wouldn't feel displayed. David and I had joked about sitting in the balcony since we started going there, so that was a reason, too. A wonderful service about peace awaited us. The choir's Silent Night enveloped me. My soul soared like the notes reaching the rafters. Peace.

I carried that peace all day and into Monday. Even the thank you note mentioned they felt peace this weekend staying with us and they felt I created it. Peace has to be within. Peace that passes all understanding.

Yet, Tuesday, circumstances threatened peace. Sickness, death, threats, society not recognizing their sin flooded my mind. I wrote, “I heard the bells on Christmas Day. So much sadness this day and praying. But God is not dead those bells ring out. Peace on earth, good will to man.

“Our Lord is the calm in the storm, the Comforter, the Healer, the Lover of our souls. Now, that's Good News.”

Peace comes with the reason Jesus, a King born a Baby, grew up to be the sacrifice for the sin of the world. His blood changes our sin DNA and we become new creations, in His blood line, now. The angels declared it to the shepherds on that night two thousand years ago. God showed up to the outcasts and He will show up for you. He says, “Peace unto you, with whom I am well pleased.”

The storms do not go away. The Light shines through the storm, only because of Christ. He brings eternal peace in relationship with the Prince of Peace. Enter into that relationship and go deep with the Lord. Peace will not be shaken as you learn more of Him and His eternal peace.

Casting Crowns - I Heard The Bells on Christmas Day Live - YouTube

Acknowledgment: Henry W. Longfellow, and my minister, Rick Stauffer.

Destitution

 

I pray for destitution this Advent season. Wow! That's a weird prayer. I blame it on My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers. May we be destitute.

This past Sunday morning I was led to this. I read Psalm 24. The whole earth is the Lord's and all that is in it. It begs the question, Who can go to His mountain? Those with clean hands and pure hearts. Well, who really is that?

The last few days, I was reading Matthew 27 about the trial and crucifixion of Jesus. Saturday, I read Psalm 22. The words of this Psalm specifically spell out what Jesus experienced, even though they were written many years before- a prophecy of King David's. I can't imagine what David envisioned or lived, to “see” these words. All this points to the Cross, the Great Exchange, the only action that makes a new heart. I had been thinking on the sacrifice.

That is how we go to the mountain of God, by way of the Cross. Our hands are pure because Christ took our sins. I sat to contemplate this after reading Psalm 24. I wrote to God that morning, “You are so great, yet You invite us not only into Your presence, but to be Your dwelling place, Your presence. - Wow! The greatness of You in me, a broken, clay vessel. I should fall, prostrate. I don't want to give up. Fill me more.”

I continued to pray for revival. I'm not praying for a hoopla experience, a flash in the pan. I want one that changes hearts. We may become new hearts, new creations. I finished for us older believers, crack the stone off our hearts.

The Gospel of Mark begins with preparing the way of the Lord, make His paths straight. John the Baptist called Israel to repentance. He baptized with water of repentance. Jesus baptizes with fire. A little later in the chapter, Jesus' water baptism from John shows His identification with us in repentance. His Emmanuel, one hundred percent Man and one hundred percent God, perfect, carried through the water baptism of repentance in preparation for the Cross, where He took on our sin DNA. With this, Jesus forms new hearts- Happy Advent.

This exchange makes us all level. We all sin and we are all on the same level as the worse sinner. This is where Oswald Chambers comes in. “The Gospel of the grace of God awakens an intense longing in human souls and an equally intense resentment, because the revelation which it brings is not palatable. There is a certain pride in man that will give and give, but to come and accept is another thing. ...do not humiliate me to the level of the most hell-deserving sinner.”

We need to be destitute. We need to see our great need, or God cannot work with us. We can only “enter into His Kingdom through the door of destitution.” - Oswald Chambers, again.

All of us are not OK. We all need Jesus. We all need the Cross. We humble ourselves to accept what we cannot do on our own. We should have the sense of need only One can fulfill. Like in The Christmas Carol, facing our own death may bring us to new life- the Ebeneezer Scrooge moment. This Advent, I pray we are all destitute. May a revival break out. Admit our need, we are never worthy, yet God in mercy made a way for all people through His Son on the Cross.

Changed hearts or new hearts, for that I pray. Make us destitute- Make us destitute, to be full in Jesus.

Seasons' Colors

                                               Just like that Spring is over

                                                    and summer has come.

                                                  Fallen blooms brown

                                                 crushed on the ground

                                                  Spring has death, too, 

                                                   in a display of color.

                                                Gives way to green

                                         unlike the colors following fall 

                                   giving way to white or dull. 

2021 Word Picture Reveal

Home

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVbPgBGv2to 

Who could have guessed what kind of year 2020 would have been? Maybe Home should have been the word last year, but 2019 was not 2020. Praying 2021 is not 2020.

Home, though, we have grown used to. I look at it this year as the refuge it is to be. We come home. Home can be a sanctuary where are yoked with Jesus. Courage can be built at home. Abundance starts at home. We rest at home. We walk through the door to hope. Our dreams may start in the safety of home, even if the dream makes us soar from home. There is glory at home. Shalom will be on homes as we trust in Jesus. I will write the light at home.

As I have spent more time at home these past months, masking myself deters my wanting to leave. I do walk often. As I noticed families more this year being outside together, I felt nostalgia. Seeing kids riding bikes, roller blading or skate boarding reminded me of home when I grew up. I picked this area, as less hills and being close to Buhl Farm Park would lend itself to those kind of activities for my kids. This picture screams HOME to me. The dog knows he's home. My son-in-law powered washed it that day. I see hope, shalom, glory in my home. I see improvement. I see writing the light there. Dreams will come to pass there. More than shelter, I feel courage to grow. Celebrate me home.