The Little Tree in the Attic

A thought runs through my head this week like water over a log. It flows freely in and out rolling over my already crowded noggin' pushing all other precedents aside. I know that any time now I have to do something about it. The thought takes the form of actions resulting in subtle changes around the house, a red candle in place of a white one, a snowman place mat appears, and my cranberry and twig "Joy" hanging sign, or whatever it's called, pops up on the kitchen mirror. It's in motion. That's how it starts every year right after Thanksgiving. I don't know how to stop it, so I just roll with it.

I run into town to the bank, and my car pulls into Big Lots after making my Midtown deposit. I stroll through the already picked over Christmas collection and find that green candle I need for the fireplace. Did I say need? I buy it and some cereal I hadn't planned on getting and head back to the house. I decide to stop off for a bean burrito at Taco Bell, but I don't have even .99 on me, and I refuse to use a credit card for one bean burrito, so I head home with my new purchase, my stomach growling.

The thought really plagues me now, and a new momentum sets in. I pull out the wooden manger with the glass characters and set it up along with several of my Christmas figurines. Baby Jesus is still sleeping just like last Christmas as Mary watches closely by. I put her a bit closer to Joseph and go to the hallway.  I start pulling boxes out of the storage closet opening them as if they hold hidden treasure when I hear a sound in the attic. It compels me to go into the garage and pull the string on the attic door. The stairs drop down.

It's all over now. I climb the stairs and there it is, waiting patiently in the attic, all scrunched and  bound in a cardboard box. It's the little tree in the attic, the palate for my hanging treasures I've saved through the years. It's neither fancy nor formal. It's comfortable. Welcome back downstairs little tree. And now I can think about something else.

So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger. Luke 2:16

Peace. Love, Linda

Over the River and Through Kissimmee

Light angled through the trees in mythical fashion draws me out the back door to the corner chair on the porch. With coffee in hand, I sit and just stare at the lines showing through the leaves in the oaks behind the house and the height of the pine tree that grew miraculously tall this year. I feel the soft, cool air across my legs not covered by my robe, and I am thankful. It's a quiet day because most commerce has come to a stand still and the major noise in the air is that of singing birds or cars moving on the roads to family destinations for hot potatoes and gravy and juicy turkey. You may hear an occasional motorcycle passing by; if you look closely, it may be maroon with gold pinstripes and say "Midtown Cycles" on the back. That's Darren and me. Today we're going on our own Thanksgiving journey, over the river and through Kissimmee to Ruthie's house in Lake Hamilton to share our lives and this beautiful day with family. Thank you, God, for this most amazing day.

How precious is your steadfast love, O God! All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights. For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light. 
Psalms 36:7-9

Happy Thanksgiving and peace. Love, Linda

Is the Word "Forever" a Finite Term?

I love the fact that I am comfortable with thoughts and questions I shied away from in my youth because I was swamped in dogma. I have no regrets about that. Amidst the conformity and tightly controlled religious messages a truth rang out that I have never forsaken, and I am thankful for the grace that God has given and the years I spent in church. I am fortunate that my path to God is through Jesus and He intercedes for me as an almighty spirit of the living God. I can ask anything of Him, and the world begins to move to answer those very requests. I'm stating these facts about myself because what I am about to say could be misconstrued by some as disbelief. It is not. It is just questions, thoughts. I like questions. They open up thought with a mark that looks like this "?". On the other hand, statements often close down the conversation with a mark that looks like this ".".

In the Psalms, wonderfully inspired words are poured out onto the page with passionate abandon. We accept them in every literal sense in most Protestant congregations, but isn't it puzzling how we tap dance to make meaning of some of them to keep accepting them literally? Here is an example I find puzzling:

Psalms 89: 19 and further begins this, " Then you spoke in a vision to your faithful one, and said: 'I have set the crown on one who is mighty... my hand shall always remain with him.' Verse 28 says,"Forever I will keep my steadfast love for him, and my covenant with him will stand firm. If his children forsake my law.... then I will punish their transgression with the rod...,but I will not remove from him my steadfast love or be false to my faithfulness...His line shall continue forever, and his throne endure before me like the sun. It shall be established forever like the moon, an enduring witness in the skies."

What a beautiful declaration of God's faithfulness to his servant David, even though punishment for transgressions may be doled out, the love remains steadfast. Not only to David, but also to his descendants, one of which is Jesus of Nazareth. Ironically, in verse 38, David states, "But now, you have spurned and rejected him; you are full of wrath against your anointed. The Psalm ends, after David Laments God's anger, with  David's usual declaration of faithfulness and these words, "Blessed be the Lord forever. Amen and Amen." Even David's greatest despair expressed rose to the top after pouring out his heart to God. It's a beautifully human pattern.

Does David remind you of yourself at times? Do you think he forgot the meaning of forever when he was distressed? Do you think Christians have forgotten the meaning of forever? Do you think because the Jews rejected Jesus, all of them will die and go to hell? If so, does that mean his throne "established like the moon" is doomed? I don't know. I'm just askin' questions.

Peace. Love, Linda

Feeling Miscellaneous

It's 7:20 in the evening. I've already had my shower, and my fuzzy slippers are feeling soft and cozy on my feet, which are propped up and crossed on the recliner couch. The day was warm and foot traffic at the shop was slim, but work in the shop is fat, so that's O.K. Darren and I ate Mexican food for dinner, and my belly is almost stuffed but not quite because, finally, at fifty-five, I've learned to slow down on the chips...somewhat.

I don't have anything profound or insightful to say. I just want to write in my blog and feel connected. I am not certain of how things will play out with Darren's parents, and I'm not sure how we will get them down here, but I believe it will all work out for the very best. There is a lot of opportunity for growth going on right now, and I hope none of us miss as the rope swings across from the other side of the chasm and a voice from the master says, "Grab hold quick. It may not reach you when it swings back the next time." I'm not bored or sad or under the weather. I'm just feeling miscellaneous, not to be mistaken nor is it synonymous with lukewarm.

When I was riding to work this morning, backtracking a bit, I stopped at the Stop sign on 10th and Delaware.I was talking to God about the day, and I just briefly turned my palms upward. I'm not certain why it happens, but when I do that, I feel the energy flowing from my hands. It's almost tangible; maybe it is tangible. I'm beginning to think I should do that more often. Along the lines of miscellaneous, I found this verse. I like it.  "With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation." Isaiah 12:3

Peace. Love, Linda

Mama Loved the Psalms

If I had a picture for this upper corner, it would be of me sitting on the side of a bed in a nursing home with a Bible in my lap opened to the Psalms and reading to Mama as she rests peacefully. Her eyes are closed, her face peaceful; she is still. Only the slight rise and fall of her chest makes me know she is living and the look on her face that reflects an inner peace that has finally set in because, unknown to me, she is going home that Sunday afternoon. Her work on earth is done, and she has heard the spirit of the Father say, "Well done." Mama loved the Psalms.

As I sit on my morning off with the Bible on the couch beside me and the laptop in my lap, I open to the Psalms as a source of comfort and encouragement, believing in the promises of peace they profess, and holding a personal track record that has proven the promises true, over and over. Right now, my thoughts are for Pat and Frank. I send them love and peace and write these words from Psalms knowing that peace is possible and love heals when nothing else can. "Hear oh, Lord, and be gracious to me! O, Lord, be my helper! You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever." Psalms:30:10-12.

Peace. Love, Linda

Not So Much

I put out sunflower seeds for the birds but sometimes it's not the birds that eat the seeds but the two squirrels that run the tree in the back yard. Does it bother me? Not so much. That's how people say it today, "not so much." Even my granddaughter Bella says, "not so much." I think it caught on because it's a good way to make a negative expression take on an almost positive twist, but not so much.

I'm not sure why I'm writing about this because I have so many thoughts I want to express but have not been ready to sit down and put them in print. My in-laws are in a sad state. Darren is traveling back and forth to their home in Mississippi on a regular basis. It's wearing on  him not only because of the pain of his parent's demise, but also  because of the lack of direction they are willing to take right now to change it. The distressful interactions involving dementia mixed with insanity that are taking place between two people who have lived together for over fifty years is not driving his parent's choices; instead, it is a value system that doesn't fit the unfortunate and unpredictable state of affairs in which my father-in-law's deteriorating mind has placed them.. Old patterns are the brain's default in spite of changed events. Habits of negativity and old grudges don't go away under duress. They evolve into demons when love leaves the room.

It  causes me to wonder how our nation has spent billions of dollars on longevity with an obsessive value on  youth, leaving us with a horrendous gap in knowledge and understanding of the multiple faces of old-age dementia. It appears with the push for youth and longevity that our nation values life, but right now as I sit and write this, these words come to mind, "not so much."

If you pray, please pray for my husband's family. God's grace is sufficient for even the saddest of situations.
Peace. Love, Linda