Joyful Songs

Before we ever began the moving process I determined I wouldn't let my walking and work-out routines slide. I think the appropriate quote here would be, "The best laid plans of mice and men go awry." (Robert Burns) I haven't worked out in three weeks, and we've only managed a couple of walks.

I am determined to repent of this slothful behavior! We went for a walk this morning, and my legs have registered their protest. It is a very different walk from the one we took at our old house. Instead of a little country road, we follow sidewalks through a well-manicured area of rehab facilities, retirement apartments and nursing homes.

There is a little man-made lake with lovely fountains spouting plumes of water into the air. We pass other walkers, some with their dogs bounding along beside them. There is a distinct lack of hills, but I enjoyed the walk.

I took along my index cards with my memory verses printed out - another sadly neglected part of my usual routine. I struggled to remember the words as the wind wound circles around us and the water fountains caused the water to dance.

One of my verses (Zephaniah 3:17) has a line that says: "He will rejoice over you with joyful songs." I had just recited the words as we walked through the gates of our apartment complex. The clear, beautiful notes of a little unseen bird filled the air, and I thought - "Yes, He rejoices over me with joyful songs." It was a beautiful melody and oh how it brightened the morning.

Blessings,
Linda

Tea and Conversation

I began to write what I thought was a "deep" post this morning. Half way through it was time to leave for my Mom and Dad's so I left it to simmer.

On second thought it doesn't seem worth finishing. I confess that my poor little brain is a tad tired these days. I have been going in too many different directions for a few weeks now, and I think it has taken a toll. I am running on empty.

It seems a good idea to go slowly, to rest and reflect a bit. I need to sort out all of the thoughts running through my mind into a coherent whole. It is a bit of a dilemma - I am longing to write, but I am just a bit weary of writing.

For now I think visiting you and listening to what you have to say is just the ticket! You are a delight - an encouragement - and dear friends. Might I have a cup of tea too?

Blessings,
Linda

Remember to Smile

It has been nearly two years since I wrote these words. How is it that I can so easily forget the words gently spoken into my spirit? How is it that the daily living of life, with its joys and sorrows, can rub the sheen off a shining gift? The something I thought I would never forget had somehow slipped away.

I walk with head down along the unfamiliar walk to the mailbox. Everything is new, the familiar left behind to become someone else's every day. I feel that old shyness dogging my steps as I pass faces unknown to me. Then it comes - a gentle reminder of a long ago spoken word: "Smile."

Smile. I had forgotten. Forgotten the seemingly small ministry with the huge potential He had given to a heart longing to do something BIG. My head tilted up just a bit - eyes looking for the eyes of stranger.

Sometimes I cannot will the eyes of another to look into mine, but there are moments of connection. That is when the smile does its work.

If I had any doubts (and oh how prone I am to such things), that very evening as we descended the stairs from the choir loft a friend grabbed me in a hug. "You are such a blessing, she said. You have a beautiful smile."

I'm not so sure about the beautiful part, but the smile - oh yes. The Father gave me that smile, and He has asked me to use it for Him.

Have you discovered the ministry of a small thing? If you have, how does the Father turn your little into something BIG?

Blessings,
Linda

Hear It On Sunday. Use It On Monday - Jesus Is Praying

It has been a long, exhausting two weeks. It is difficult to describe in one word but the one that comes to mind is stressful. Many times during the process I thought of Pa and Ma Ingalls. When that inevitable urge to move hit Pa, they simply loaded all their earthly belongings into a small covered wagon, lifted in the girls, whistled for the dog and headed west. We seem to be burdened by an abundance of things!

There have been a couple of very difficult, unexpected complications, and I found myself simply coming undone. I did all of the things I know I shouldn't do. I worried, I allowed fear to overwhelm my heart, I imagined all sorts of ways everything was going to go wrong, and I forgot whose child I am.

My practical, wise, deeply spiritual Pastor, quite without knowing my need, reminded me of it last evening. He took us to the seventeenth chapter of John and Jesus' prayer for His disciples and for you and me. On the eve of His betrayal and the journey to the cross, He poured out His heart to His Father - and we were on His mind.

The first time I read this prayer with understanding I wept. It is such a beautiful prayer filled with a love that is beyond comprehension. It is deeply personal and cannot fail to move the most indifferent of hearts.

In the fifteenth verse Jesus makes this request of His Father:

"I'm not asking You to take them out of the world, but to keep them safe from the evil one."

Knowing all that the enemy would be likely to throw at me, He prays for my safety. He looked ahead in time and saw the ways and the times that I would feel abandoned and afraid. He placed my life, your life, in the hands of the One He loved more than His own life.

Implicit in His words is the promise that He continues to pray for us - for our safety. He lives to make intercession for us. When it seems as though my world is falling apart around me, He is praying. When I am fearful of what the future holds, He assures me that He is already there - waiting to help me through. When I feel abandoned, He reminds me of His promise to never leave me or forsake me.

Quietly sitting listening to the words of Jesus, I felt my heart begin to slow and rest. I confessed my sin to a Father who has already covered it with His grace. And He gave me His peace.

Linking to Michelle's Hear It On Sunday. Live It On Monday.



Glad to be back. I've missed every one of you.

Blessings,
Linda

picture: our apartment complex - home while we wait for our new house to be built

A Moment's Pause

These days my brain is filled with visions of cardboard boxes, paper, tape and magic markers. It is befuddled with puzzling over what goes into each box and then which pile the filled box should join - the one going to storage, the one going to the shop or the one going to the apartment. The images fill my dreams leaving me very little space for anything creative.

When I need a little break, a few moments  for breathing deeply, I just look out the window.  Want to see?

Haven't the babies grown? They are nearly as big as Mama. I am so delighted that she has managed to take such good care of them under very difficult circumstances. This drought is devastating, but they are thriving.

Time for a little community bath.

Mrs. Roadrunner usually has the bath to herself.

This little guy is endlessly entertaining. He is an acrobat par excellence and, to my mind, as cute as can be.

This Dandy announces his intention to take a drink long before he actual flies in. When I hear loud squawking, I know he is about to make his grand entrance. 

But alas, there isn't much time for wool-gathering. Do you think I have too many books? (Yes the boxes are filled with books too, and I really did sort through and give away a whole bunch of them.) Surely not. I am preparing my defense for moving day, when the guys all make fun of how many boxes of books there are.

We are counting down the days. My big worry (I really am a terrible worry wart) is that I won't be able to get set up quickly with a new internet provider (mine doesn't service the area where our apartment is located), and I will vanish from blogland forever! :-)

Blessings,
Linda

Dreaming Dreams

I sit, homemade planner on my lap, the white Holiday Inn pen with the blue top in my hand, and the thought comes unbidden - "I love to write!" Just the physical act of putting words on paper brings a sense of satisfaction. When those words take the form of ideas and stories that encourage and entertain, it is sheer joy.

I long to do it well, to learn to be a skilled craftsman. There is nothing I like more than listening to writers talk about writing, to learn from those who do it with excellence. A close second would have to be just plain talking about writing with those who love the written word - iron sharpening iron.*

I have dreamed dreams about writing but often felt I've let too much time go by, that I am too old now to make the dream come true. I'd like to have the time and the opportunity to explore the possibilities.

The staff at High Calling is providing a place to do just that, at Laity Lodge. Set in the Texas hill country, surrounded by breathtaking scenery, it is the perfect place to come away for a short time and concentrate on writing. You can read all about the Writers Retreat here at their website. If you are a member of the High Calling Community and would like a chance to attend the conference for free, you can get all the information here.

Blessings,
Linda

*Proverbs 27:17

Time For a Break

We have begun to count down the days. Soon we will close the door to the home my husband built twenty-eight years ago and walk into a new adventure. We would covet your prayers as we go through these last steps, that all will go well.

In the meantime, there is much to do. I feel as though my rather feeble little brain has somehow turned to jello! It is time to take a break from this place I love and concentrate on the task at hand. I will try to do a bit of writing - because somehow that brings a sense of peace and completeness for me - but I won't have much time to visit and comment.

In a couple of weeks, I should be back to blogging - in a new little temporary home. We are walking through this with a deep sense of gratitude and a complete dependence on the Father who works everything together for good. He is so faithful.

Love to all of you,
Linda