If you were in a class, Philosophy 102, it would probably not be long before you would be asked questions such as these: what are we here for, where did we come from, what is our purpose, and where are we going. Life’s great mysteries! God says, “Lean not to your own understanding, my ways are not your ways.” So He is likely not going to explain to you what “nothing” is since our brains mostly only think “space” instead of nothing. I don’t even want to take Physics 1! Those things are too big for my brain.
In the spiritual realm also, that’s the way God is. God has given us the basics in the Holy Scriptures. That is called the milk of the Word. God so loved the world… By faith we are called to believe on Jesus Christ, his birth, his death, his resurrection. There are a lot more interesting things we can know, called the meat of the word. But you need not blow out your brains because your teeth are not strong enough to chew steak.
He will give you enough answers to help you find peace as you snuggle down in his pleasure, knowing you came from God and you are going back to God.
“The storm blew through in the middle of the night.
I thought I would look a frightful sight.
But I’m standing serene and the storm has passed
Though tossed about I’m still anchored fast.
Thankful to be alive in my radiant beauty.
Giving joy to others as is my duty.
Secure your roots in something solid, you will be strong for the storms.
Colossians 2:6-7 – So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.
Try not to let the number of years distract you from my message. I don’t even remember when I wrote it first. The second section, below my picture, is my message to you today.
I’ve been into mother’s stuff again. The second time in 21 years. Nine years ago I looked at some of the things she had left to me. Sorrow consumed me as I sat thinking of lost opportunities to have let her know how much I cared.
I bought a Mother’s Day card, wrote the following note on it. “To Amy, my Mom. To a loving mother from a sorrowful daughter 13 years too late.” In the card is a letter I wrote full of remorse about my not having expressed more appreciation for her talents. Especially her ability to write historical stories, even make-believe stories like her Baretta story.
I could make a quick judgment about the art and often told her they were pretty. But I knew so little about writing and took even less time to appreciate it. Now that I love to write I wish I had shared more of that with her. A section from my letter to her says – “I have thought of you often during the 21 years since you were here. But I think it has always been because I wanted you to see MY accomplishments, MY family, MY home, MY yard, MY Lexus – never because I wanted to share YOUR accomplishments, YOUR family, YOUR house, YOUR yard, YOUR writings, YOUR pictures. Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
Today I am destroying the card. I’ve learned a very humbling lesson. What good is an “I’m Sorry” thirteen years too late. I don’t know what I will remember when I see her again. But I hope I will still have the opportunity in Heaven to say, “Mom, you were an amazing woman when you lived on earth.”
I don’t know whether or not I have shared the message above on a blog before, but even if I did, it is a warning that needs to be considered regularly. Are you holding a grudge against a friend or family member? “I’m Sorry” hits real hard after death. Be generous with your mercy even if the other person was in the wrong. Or maybe it is not hard feelings, just the busyness of life. Or maybe, as in my case, …………I don’t know how to finish this. Maybe because I was wrapped up in me, not her.
Oh my, this transparency is hard. It is only worth it, if it helps you understand
Many folks would think my dad and mother, Pete and Amy, were simple farm folks. Today’s world would call them uneducated. Hillary called them “deplorables.”
My family valued travel and I was given a lot of “field trips” because of their venturous curiosity and love of people and places. We had yearly visits to the mountains in Colorado an fishing trips to South Texas including a visit into Old Mexico. Amy kept journals of expenses and experiences enough for us to occasionally find a pen pal along the way. These trips were educational ventures as you can see by her collection of state promotion material. These were from a trip to Oregon and Washington with return down through California. Also a trip to Florida.
I’m trying to remember what we did on the road during those long hours. I know the classic A-Z was one game that was always good. We played “I Spy.” Now this next one sounds rough, I can’t even find it on google. Probably too violet for some families, but we did not hurt each other. The activity was “Red truck, no pinch back,” changing to yellow car, black cow, or anything one might pass by without having to wait too long. We also a string for stringing Jacob’s Ladder of Cat’s in the Cradle. One can learn quite a bit by checking license tags keeping a list of states and their emblems. Whatever we were doing, we had to take time for the Burma Shave signs!
I’m sure there is less confusion and the car is less messy since technology gave each child and parent their own world to travel in, but I notice siblings still have more fun by poking at each other.
By the way, I never even noticed that we were deplorable even though we didn’t visit Gay Paree and the cattle market my dad invested in was the one in which he had to milk, feed, water, and round up the cattle.
Even though these were good in the “good ole days” you might still want to try some out during your summer’s travel. As Dale Evans might say, “Happy Trails to You.”
Tootsie Tulip sparkled as she twitched her toes in the oozing water around her roots. Her ankles had become so dry, there was danger that she could not get water through her body up to her head. What then? Heatstroke!
She would have loved the feel of water drops on her face, but they had fallen on the hill behind her and flowed underground to her. She rejoiced that the water had brought new life to her. She smiled as she remembered a song the yardman sang sometimes. She understood now; Drinking at the Springs of Living Water.*
Friday Fictioneers, a 100 word challenge by Rochelle based on picture prompt. https://rochellewisoff.com/ Thank you, Rochelle, for hosting this event.
Following up from yesterday’s blog post about David’s obedience to God’s direct message to him, but how much he had to suffer for the times he “did it his own way.” He ate the daisies and had to suffer the bellyache!
God did not give specific rules for many of the challenges we encounter day by day. But he did institute a the Church to “point out the daisies.” I make this statement based on Matthew 18:19. I know there are different interpretations of this scripture but my belief is that “the church” should act as an authority to distinguish right from wrong – bind and loose – moral issues.
A simple example. Much of the church world had issues with smoking tobacco long before “science” caught up and proved the harm done to the body by that habit. The Bible does not say “don’t” smoke tobacco. Most of the church world now warns against smoking marijuana. Science will catch up after years of watching results of that “daisy.”
The Bible does not say “don’t abort your baby.” But most of us “church folks” have sense enough to know that is an abomination to God.
How about some of these daisy bowls which God probably thinks “his church” should be warning against.
Don’t drink alcohol.
Don’t take anything into your body which alters your mind.
Don’t watch porn.
Don’t smash store windows.
Don’t wear blouse tops that have sleeveless arm holes that drop to the waist. The same thing applies to men.
Does the church not still have the duty to teach the pitfalls which Satan designs?
There really are a lot of things we do that the church should be up in arms against. Instead we point out that Jesus fulfilled the Old Testament and the only law now is to love God and your neighbor as yourself.
And God’s “church” is much too nice to call daisies, “sin.“
Ezekiel 3:17 Ezekiel, son of man, I have appointed you to stand watch for the people of Israel. So listen to what I say, then warn them for me.
I want to pay tribute to wonderful people I have known, the wonderful country in which I live, the communities in which I have lived, the churches who have claimed me as their own, the God who sends shivers down my back when I really give him a portion of my time—well, maybe not shivers but tears flow easily in some of those most priceless times.
Hello. To various folks I am Neat’ne, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins.