Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Friday, April 4, 2014
Grandparenting with Grace: Five minute Friday again "writer"
Here I am again on a Five minute Friday. Joining the group fromhttp://lisajobaker.com/2014/04/five-minute-friday-writer/ writing prompt WRITER. Taking 5 minutes out of my week to do what I wish I would do more-write.
http://lisajobaker.com/2014/04/five-minute-friday-writer/
Writer
I had dreams of being a writer back in my High School days. Ha. My teachers told me I had a gift. Well. Then life took off and I followed and writing was gone. Lost somewhere like dust in a forgotten corner. Yet, every now and then I took out those pages I had gloried in. Now they are yellowed after 35+ years. But I still have them. Tucked away. Those neat and carefully hand written pages. My heart on paper.
I've added to them. Some pages handwritten from the early days of "word processors" when I was afraid to even attempt to turn on that strange thing called a computer. Some safely tucked away in an electronic file on my computer in "my documents." From time to time I go back and read my words. And I wonder, did I really write that? There must be a mistake, it sounds too good. I tuck it back away and go on about my daily life-and wonder-then forget.
Am I a writer? Barely. I mean each day flies by and it's the last thing I think about. There are so many other things to get done. Besides, who would ever want to read what I have written.?? Yet, my own words re-read years later bring me to tears. Maybe it's just me who needs to write. And read. And write. And read. . .
http://lisajobaker.com/2014/04/five-minute-friday-writer/
Writer
I had dreams of being a writer back in my High School days. Ha. My teachers told me I had a gift. Well. Then life took off and I followed and writing was gone. Lost somewhere like dust in a forgotten corner. Yet, every now and then I took out those pages I had gloried in. Now they are yellowed after 35+ years. But I still have them. Tucked away. Those neat and carefully hand written pages. My heart on paper.
I've added to them. Some pages handwritten from the early days of "word processors" when I was afraid to even attempt to turn on that strange thing called a computer. Some safely tucked away in an electronic file on my computer in "my documents." From time to time I go back and read my words. And I wonder, did I really write that? There must be a mistake, it sounds too good. I tuck it back away and go on about my daily life-and wonder-then forget.
Am I a writer? Barely. I mean each day flies by and it's the last thing I think about. There are so many other things to get done. Besides, who would ever want to read what I have written.?? Yet, my own words re-read years later bring me to tears. Maybe it's just me who needs to write. And read. And write. And read. . .
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Grandparenting with Grace: Five minute Friday's writing prompt= JOY
Yes I am a few days late for Five minute Friday ( http://lisajobaker.com/ ). Working all day Friday makes for difficulty to get it done Friday, at least for me. So a few days late is better than not at all.
This weeks prompt was JOY. I may be cheating a bit as when I read the prompt I remembered something I had written a while back and thought I'd cut and past along with adding to it.
Joy
Contemplate
the Cost
It is well and good to celebrate
Easter Sunday. After all, Christ has indeed risen!! Without the resurrection we
would have no Savior, He would have remained in the grave and our hope would be
in vain. Yet, perhaps we should not be so quick to progress to the glory
without taking time to grasp the reality of Christ’s journey to that glory. If
one rejoices in the resurrection, but fails to embrace the agony of the cross,
part of what is glorious is lost, and the true meaning of our need for a Savior
is ignored in celebration.
I have learned
one cannot comprehend true joy without the experience of heart wrenching sorrow
and pain. For without the sorrow and pain woven into the fabric of our lives-
by what measurement do we establish the quality of our joy? I can know the joy of holding my first born
in my arms, but only after the pain and struggle of the birth process and the
loss of another little one who was never to have drawn a breath. In the spring,
new growth erupts and we marvel at the beauty of it after the long, hard, bitter
days of winter. So, it is fitting to celebrate the resurrection of the Paschal
lamb; what was thought to be dead has not only come to life, but in the process
we too have been given the opportunity to taste a glorious eternity.
However, Christ was called to the cross to endure our
judgment. By no means was it a walk in the park. Ours should be His naked body
with its torn flesh. The spittle on His face, the curses ringing in His ears
and the spasms wracking His body is what we deserve in the eyes of a Holy and
righteous God. But, God so loved us that
He sent His beloved, precious and perfect Son to make us to be righteous in His
sight. If one truly grasps the meaning and intensity of such love, one cannot
but be amazed. That is why I ask:
Can there be any pain or degree of loneliness as great as
that which my Lord felt that day long ago when His Father turned His face away
and abandoned His perfect and precious Son to my sin? Jesus risked all He had to enter into
relationship with me; what do I risk when turning to Him? A bad habit?
A sinful nature? What degree of
loneliness am I called to endure for my Savior? And, am I willing?
Do we daily take up what God has called us to do willingly,
or do we go about life believing there is no struggle to be had in this life
for the cause of Christ? There are many ways to respond to such a question. We
can refuse to acknowledge God’s call on our lives and live as we choose, never
entering into a true relationship with our Creator. We can spout Bible verses,
and sing Halleluiahs in praise, claiming all is well and we never feel alone
and empty. Or, we can truly be Christ like and cry out in anguish when we feel
abandoned and alone; we can go before our Father and ask to be spared the trial
we are being asked to endure if at all possible. We can also humbly bow and
say, “Thy will be done.” In doing so, however, we may be called to endure a
haunting loneliness of soul. For many times what is in God’s will is not to be
understood by others. Even Jesus experienced this as He prayed in the garden of
Gethsemane, as He faced betrayal by the kiss of a friend, and as His disciples
fled in fear leaving Him alone to stand before Pilate and hear the chosen of
God cry out for His blood.
If we are truly listening to the voice of God, we should
certainly expect our own Gethsemane experiences in life. On the other hand, the
amazing reality to it all is that we can know that we never have to experience
the Father’s turning away from us and leaving us in total darkness, void of His
presence, for that is what Christ experienced for us. If the agony of the
journey from Gethsemane to Jerusalem and on to Golgotha was torture, just
imagine what it must have been like for the Son of God to experience the Father’s
absolute absence.
Yes, I will celebrate Easter and the risen Lamb! Yet I
remain humbly awed by such great love, me the imperfect made perfect through the
grave suffering and anguish of the One without a single spot of imperfection,
my what a price was paid for me. That is why I cannot forget the cross; for only
where the pain and sorrow are truly embraced openly can the fullness of real
joy take hold.
Like I said, I cheated. But what Joy there is in knowing I have eternal life.
Grandparenting with Grace: eternal life
Today I found this poem, Hidden Treasure (Anonymous) and thought it really is the way of life. We spin and weave our lives, hopefully as He directs, and find great joy and shining moment of happiness among the sorrows and pains. At times we do grow weary of the task of living, but if we live for eternity we can be assured of "the grandest gift of all".
Hidden Treasure
"It was long ago I read the story sweet~
Of how the German mothers, o'er the sea,
Wind in, throughout the yarn their girlies knit,
Some trinkets small, and tiny shining coins,
That when the little fingers weary grow,
And fain would lay aside the tiresome task,
From out the ball will drop the hidden gift,
To please and urge them on in search of more.
And so, I think, the Father kind above
Winds in and out the skein of life we weave,
Through all the years, bright tokens of His love,
That when we weary grow and long for rest
They help to cheer and urge us on for more;
And far adown within the ball we find,
When all the threads of life at last are spun,
The grandest gift of all~eternal life."
~Anonymous.
Hidden Treasure
"It was long ago I read the story sweet~
Of how the German mothers, o'er the sea,
Wind in, throughout the yarn their girlies knit,
Some trinkets small, and tiny shining coins,
That when the little fingers weary grow,
And fain would lay aside the tiresome task,
From out the ball will drop the hidden gift,
To please and urge them on in search of more.
And so, I think, the Father kind above
Winds in and out the skein of life we weave,
Through all the years, bright tokens of His love,
That when we weary grow and long for rest
They help to cheer and urge us on for more;
And far adown within the ball we find,
When all the threads of life at last are spun,
The grandest gift of all~eternal life."
~Anonymous.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Grandparenting with Grace: Finishing well
One of my New Year's resolutions was to spend more time reading God's Word, applying it to my life, and listening and praying quietly. So far I ave done this. I am unable to sit each and every day-something I am working on, but I am spending more time with God and finding He does speak through His word.
Today during my devotional time I read, Isaiah38:1-5
vs. 1 In those days Hezekiah became ill and was at the point of death. The prophet Isaiah son of Amoz went to him and said, “This is what the Lord says: Put your house in order, because you are going to die; you will not recover.”
Isn't this true? We are all going to die. We had better get our house in order!! We cannot escape; we will not recover.
vs' 2-3 Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord, “Remember, Lord, how I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done what is good in your eyes.” And Hezekiah wept bitterly.
Oh if I could say that!!
"I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done what is good in your eyes.” . . . with wholehearted devotion" I want to be able to say that!! Yes I do. I want to please God.
I have been waiting for some one to come along side of me and listen, understand, and share in my struggle. However!!!! I have been counting on man!! Man cannot save me. For eternity, nor for the moment. Only Christ can meet me where I am. This trial has brought me to my knees, actually it has seen me prostrate. I am nothing without Christ. Life is not fair. But I want to finish well. To do what is right in His sight. To know I have done my best for Him. I want to live for eternity, not just for today. I need to put my eyes on Him and run the race for Him, finishing well.
1 Corinthians 9:24-26 "Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air."
Today during my devotional time I read, Isaiah38:1-5
vs. 1 In those days Hezekiah became ill and was at the point of death. The prophet Isaiah son of Amoz went to him and said, “This is what the Lord says: Put your house in order, because you are going to die; you will not recover.”
Isn't this true? We are all going to die. We had better get our house in order!! We cannot escape; we will not recover.
vs' 2-3 Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord, “Remember, Lord, how I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done what is good in your eyes.” And Hezekiah wept bitterly.
Oh if I could say that!!
"I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done what is good in your eyes.” . . . with wholehearted devotion" I want to be able to say that!! Yes I do. I want to please God.
I have been waiting for some one to come along side of me and listen, understand, and share in my struggle. However!!!! I have been counting on man!! Man cannot save me. For eternity, nor for the moment. Only Christ can meet me where I am. This trial has brought me to my knees, actually it has seen me prostrate. I am nothing without Christ. Life is not fair. But I want to finish well. To do what is right in His sight. To know I have done my best for Him. I want to live for eternity, not just for today. I need to put my eyes on Him and run the race for Him, finishing well.
1 Corinthians 9:24-26 "Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air."
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Grandparenting With Grace: Five Minute Friday Prompt Write
Lisa-Jo Baker encourages,
“. . .on Fridays a group of people who love to
throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right
gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.” (See more at http://lisajobaker.com/five-minute-friday/
)
Today’s prompt for Five Minute Friday is
WRITE.
I’m a bit late for the Five Minute Friday rush,
but here is my 5 minutes worth:
To write is a sacred experience; the sharing of one’s heart.
There is always uncertainty in how one
will be accepted, if one will be understood. To write can bring pain, but to
not write is indeed painful. Writing transcends the now. It carries one through,
furthering this journey called life as it works out the kinks, smooths out one’s
rough edges, and brings a calm amidst the rolling storms. Writing gives a voice
when verbal communiqué cannot be risked. When one’s speech seems inadequate,
when words become lodged mid-utterance- to write can be an egress to the soul. To
write gives life to one’s life.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Grandparenting with Grace: Another try at Tweetspeak's poerty prompt; this week it's Spanish Lace
Another poetry prompt from Tweetspeak. If you enjoy mine read more poems inspired by Spanish Lace here.
Her Life as Woven Lace
Julie A. Olson
It’s there woven by time on
her face.
The intricate design
called life.
Each seam painstakingly
stitched
as in a piece of artistic
hand-woven Spanish Lace.
The beauty in the piece she
holds
has long lost precision
of edge.
Retrospection of life,
disentangled from emotion,
has worked loose
it’s intricate thread.
Recollections are all interlaced,
with those she loves
entwined.
Relationships unraveled, repaired.
by the Creator’s original design.
These textures of living are
hers.
All the joys, laughter,
and tears.
Abrupt lines yield-
sway and twirl
The cogent angle of clarity
now curves.
A life woven as intricate
lace.
© Copyright 2014
© Copyright 2014
Image found @ Textile Talk by the Fabric Stock Exchange
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As I type this, I have received a heartfelt e-mail from a true friend, prayer warrior, and kindred spirit. Unfortunately she lives thousands of miles away and does not wish to speak by phone, so we e-mail back and forth. It is what feeds my friend hunger when I am starving. I will press on in my friend quest. I am searching for a grandparents group in my area (I wanted to start one at my church and was told there wasn’t a need). I will continue to trust Him for the desires of my heart and the outcome in my situation. There is great joy in each day, even in the toughest moments.