Wilder Than Most

I was a verifiable groupie today, placing 37th in a line of 40+ folk attempting to get the new release of the iphone 4.

I've never done this before.

Not for a device.

It was an interesting experience, actually completing a several-day-quest to obtain one.  (Well, three, since my men were able to exchange their new doodads for the latest version.)

It's been one of those days where absolutely *nothing* is going to go as planned, nor as hoped . . . but when all is said and done, all is well.

Including a very special note the Lord sent my way.

I'd prayed a very specific prayer yesterday morning ~ and tonight the Lord sent a messenger of good news to share with me a sliver of His handiwork!  My heart trilled in upward motion song as I heard the glad tidings.  I was then reminded of this mornings Bible verse:

The LORD will perfect that which concerneth me: thy mercy, O LORD, endureth for ever: forsake not the works of thine own hands. Psalm 138:8


He surely will perfect that thing that concerns me.


He is a good God; and while the day was wilder than most, He was yet on the throne ~ steady, constant, faithful.

Heartless.

I've been in a place of distraught all day.

It seems as so many have turned a deaf ear to the Word of God.

Wherefore is there a price in the hand of a fool to get wisdom, seeing he hath no heart to it?  Proverbs 17:16

This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. for men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God; having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away. For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women laden with sins, led away with divers lusts, ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.  2 Timothy 3:1-7

Wherefore is there a price in the hand of a fool to get wisdom, seeing he hath no heart to it?  Proverbs 17:16

Lord, have mercy.

Silence Is Golden

Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water; but a man of understanding will draw it out. Proverbs 20:5

Giving advice when it has not been requested of you can set the receiving parties' teeth on edge with irritation.

I've lost count of how many times unsolicited advice has been thrust upon me, usually by one who was completely unfamiliar with the intricate details of the situation I was navigating at the time; or by another who felt they had it all figured out, and therefore, had superior wisdom to express, whether I felt it was needed or not.

You've been there. I know it. No denying it.

We all have.

It is my desire to not give what I do not wish to receive that puts a sentry at the door of my mouth many times.

Keeping my mouth shut on decisions made by others - void of the use of wisdom or understanding . . . sometimes even common sense and logic; to the more surface type issues, causing me to want to toss in my opinion just because a moment of silence arose in the conversation.

It's a decision.

At times, I excel at the silence.

Other times, I fail miserably.

So it is this morning that as I mull over a seemingly insignifigant, unimportant, miniscule series of events that occured yesterday that I find I must once again employ self-control and keep my thoughts to myself.

As I consider words spoken and attitudes revealed, the Lord gently takes my thoughts down a particular path, reminding me of my very own rehabilitation in that area. As grateful as I am for life lessons learned, I know I would be amiss to remark or correct unless specifically asked for my input.

Thus, I wonder ~ do any today seek to understand? Are there any that seek knowledge? [Psalm 53:2]

And ever true ring the words of Proverbs in my mind:

Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water; but a man of understanding will draw it out. Proverbs 20:5

May my understanding lie in the knowledge that perhaps what meets my eye is only a fraction of the reality of the others' situation, that I truly do not know the intricate details under the surface, and what I think I might know if far less superior in quality than I think it might be.

Set a watch, O LORD, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips. Psalm 141:3

Looking For Love

I was looking for love in all the wrong places
Looking for love in too many faces
Searching your eyes, looking for traces
Of what.. I'm dreaming of...

The old familiar Waylon Jennings song from the 80's has been sung by countless, untold millions, no doubt. In their car on the way to work; in shower after they rise; over lunch and coffee; enroute back home. In small town bars and big city concerts. Made even more famous with the movie Urban Cowboy, the song has circuited the globe with generational appeal.

I'm happily married, I'm here to say ~ yet time and time again I read, or hear of heartbreaking accounts of lackluster relationships, or soured dreams.

This morning I had occasion to read a verse of Scripture that I had spoken to a friend just days before. My eyes held it steady in the early morning light.

My soul, wait thou in silence for God only; For my expectation is from him. Psalm 62:5

Misplaced expectations, or expectations that are resonable, yet remain unmet in a relationship can sting and injure. For those who are hurting today, I pray that they might be able to refocus their expectation upon God alone.

Looking for love? Look to the One Who Is Love.

God is love. 1 John 4:8

Aiming For . . .

I stumbled across this photo this morning, while sharing some photographical information with my oldest daughter regarding Israel's upcoming gig. I had forgotten I'd prepared it for blogging . . . it's been sitting for some time!

As I look at it today, I cannot, for the life of me, remember *what* exactly, it was that I had planned to blog about. However, I do know what came to mind when I saw it fresh this morning: Aim for fruit.

"Um, Angi? Have you lost it? Don't you mean, 'aim for the bullseye' or 'aim for the prize'??" the reader might ask.

No, I've not lost it. Scripture declares:

Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Phillipians 3:13-14

Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples. John 15:8

Fruit in our lives is what the Lord is looking for. He intends that we follow His lead, reflecting the nature of the Father, which is love.

Therefore, a reminder today: Go for the goal! Aim for the prize! Abide, that you might produce. Fruit, that is.

Fruit that remains.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, self-control; against such there is no law. Galatians 5:22-23

Grounded.

Words are inadequate to relate the effects of the adrenaline rush that accompanied Israel's little prank on Friday; the waiting surrounding word on his callbacks from 2000 miles away; and the subsequent landing of a role thereof. It rendered me sleepless; overcharged with thoughts moving at the speed of light. The effect I describe placed me in some sort of weird-o dimension that I could not seem to find the edge of, in order to pull my mental and emotional being back to a stable state.

It was for this reason that I found great solace in the two hour window of time alone while I waited for Aubrey, outside of the community theatre, as she rehearsed inside.

It was this window of time in which I chose to settle my thoughts by focusing on the Word of God, and allowing my eyes to read nothing else; my mind to consider no less; and my body to remain completely relaxed in His presence.

The Lord was faithful to meet me, and calm me; stabilize me, ground me. I was grateful.

I slept, and awoke yesterday morning. My husband and I completed two more square foot garden boxes. We were awaiting the arrival of our son, who had been picked up at the airport the night before by his oldest sister, Bethany. Just as we finished the task before us, here they were.

My boy looked as though he had just tumbled out of bed (he had) and he meandered over to us. Our intial conversations were marked with love and joy at seeing each other once again, and congratulations and questions about his whirlwind experience. Soon, Israel turned to greet the DellDog, stationed very nearby on a stake out.

I loved what I was seeing. My son was grounded.

No inflated ego; no bravado; just all boy, glad to be home.

Soon, Gil and I could hear the sound of Israel's guitar wafting over the spring air through his bedroom window, evidence that he was settling in. We smiled.

The day would continue, and we would fellowship with our friends, study the Word together, and then, returning home, as a family, tidy our house.

We'd watch That Darn Cat!; Gil and I would issue parental corrections and engage in family conversations. Popcorn would be munched, and Keller would be played with.

It was a beautiful day. I was grateful.

We can only guess at what shifts might occur over the next segment of The Adventure journey, but through it all, our prayer is that we be vessels of honor unto His glory, producing His fruit, unto His intents and purposes.

Through it all, may we be grounded.

Perspective

All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field. The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the LORD blows on them. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever. Isaiah 40:6-8

The Preparation of The Lord

There was no mistaking the fingerprint of the Lord.

The GilGuy had arrived home slightly under the weather, and in no wise desirous of the meal I had planned for the evening. Chicken broth and rice, please. His spartan meal, coupled with the teen's holiday disappearance meant that my culinary endeavors were to be for my palate alone.

No matter. The particular fare I was preparing does well as a day-old offering. It would be consumed with relish ~ the only question was when?

I stood in the kitchen, stove side, stirring and adding, mixing and tasting. My husband nourished his ailment at the dinner table, while we chatted leisurely about the day's events.

Soon, all was complete. Gil's humble meal, and my culinary masterpiece. A shifting for me meant doling out a bowl of delicious vittles to partake of alone.

Say it isn't so!

A voice called out from the foyer: "Hello?" and suddenly the kitchen archway filled with the frame of a friends' unexpected arrival.

Soon happy, clamorous friendship gathered 'round the evening meal, and gregarious consumption ensued.

A happy moment, obviously of the Lord's intimate design.

And Abraham hastened into the tent unto Sarah, and said, Make ready quickly three measures of fine meal, knead it, and make cakes. And Abraham ran unto the herd, and fetched a calf tender and good, and gave it unto the servant; and he hasted to dress it. Genesis 18:6-7

What recent event has given you pause to note the Lord's direct involvement with an activity you had -no- previous idea He was planning on utilizing, Choosers? Share today! :D

Nail Scarred

And you, being dead in your sins and the uncircumcision of your flesh, hath he quickened together with him, having forgiven you all trespasses; Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross; And having spoiled principalities and powers, he made a shew of them openly, triumphing over them in it. Colossians
2:13-15

A Flat, Level Surface

It is cyclical with me, the unintended build up of stacks of middle-of-the-road important items, placed on top of a staging area. The staging area itself changes, as does the content of the stash ~ but always, at some point, the stacks must come down.

I wouldn't quite call the task formidable, nor daunting. Rather, time consuming, and boring.

I go through the motions of reassessing each item:

• to do


• file


• deep six


• wistfully thinking that "maybe at some point I'll get to this, so save it . . ."

I'm pretty sure you know the drill.

Why I do not just handle it the moment it arrives in my hands, I don't know.

I found the bottom of my staging area yesterday.

The breath of emotional and mental fresh air that the organization gave me was invigorating. As I move about this morning, the clean and orderly state gives me great joy.

The spiritual parallel is not lost on me.

How often I allow "stacks of unfinished business" to pile up in my prayer closet. Scribbled notes to look up 'the reference' or 'that definition'; 'read that passage in this context' and 'listen to that teaching' . . .

Then of course, there is the ever important

Scrubbing Of The Heart with confession and repentance.

I'd like to think I keep up with this task in a timely manner ~ that my heart is soft and my conscience tender so as to render myself immediately pierced upon the knowledge that I may in some way have injured the heart of the Father by my untoward ways.

Honesty keeps me from accepting this deceit.

Therefore today, since I've taken up the task of tidying all things natural about me, I'll now set my face to the much more important matter of finding that flat, level surface in Christ.

And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called The way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those: the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. Isaiah
35:8

The Shady Side Of Things

shady:

1. Full of shade; shaded.
2. Casting shade: a shady grove.
3. Quiet, dark, or concealed; hidden.

As we walked, my friend and I, we happened upon a small grove of mushrooms on the side of the road. They were remarkable in that they were colorful, and perfectly formed, as if they had been extracted from a children's picture book, or Alice's Wonderland. In all my Mississippi years, I could not recall ever seeing a mushroom in such pristine condition, so full of character.

This caused us to pause and take a closer look. (A bit of a comical sight to passersby, I am certain. A grown woman, on her knees, then, almost laying flat to the ground, to take an up-close gander at the fungus before her - surrounded by two babies in strollers, a five year old, and another adult.)

I poked and prodded, fascinated by what my eyes were viewing. Even the underbelly of this umbrella'd cap was gorgeous! Yet I was disgruntled at myself: I'd left my camera at home. Who knew I'd happen across such a spectacular sight? My normal preparedness mode had been tossed to the wayside, and here I stood, having failed miserably at my preparations' intent. :sigh:

Putting myself aright, we continued on our journey, and, upon returning to the homestead, I scooped up a reference manual or two, looking for any information on the genre of fungi I'd seen. Information was scarce at best; vague, and unfruitful for my inquiring mind. A quick google search net nearly the same amount of information - except for one niggling data item: the only photo I could find that looked remarkably similar to the 'shroom I'd just handled ~ was listed as poisonous.





E - gads!

Could that really be true? I'd not heard anyone discuss poisonous mushrooms in the Deep South. The bane of our existence rallied around the Red Ant population - swarms of which have the potential to bring about demise, or otherwise (and in a general and much more likely scenario) leave one with painful blisters where the little cronies tend to leave their teeth marks.

I didn't know what to think, and had no knowledgeable person to turn to to ask.

Days passed.




Walking yesterday, I spotted a lone mushroom in a yard quite early in the trek. This time, I did not fail to obtain a photographic spy at the rubbery looking thing - including the underbelly . . .the shady side, if you will.


In all it's glory, if a mushroom can be said to have a glory, it stood proud in the outcroppings where it had emerged from its' bed of birth.

What can be said, then, of the little mushroom that hides a secret? That entices one to draw near to take a closer look, only to snare it's victim upon fatal ingestion? The spiritual parallel can be made: there is an escape route from the shady side of life:

When wisdom entereth into thine heart, and knowledge is pleasant unto thy soul; Discretion shall preserve thee, understanding shall keep
thee: To deliver thee from the way of the evil man, from the man that speaketh froward things; Who leave the paths of uprightness, to walk in the ways of darkness; Who rejoice to do evil, and delight in the frowardness of the wicked; Whose ways are crooked, and they froward in their paths: To deliver thee from the strange woman, even from the stranger which flattereth with her words; Which forsaketh the guide of her youth, and forgetteth the covenant of her God. For her house inclineth unto death, and her paths unto the dead. Proverbs 2:10-18

Inquiring of the Lord for His wisdom is a beneficial endeavor. With His light, with His instruction, one can gainfully employ wisdom to avoid the pitfalls that accompany our sojourn here.

Today, if you are feeling enticed by something pretty on the wayside, I pray the Lord's wisdom to guide you.

Refrain from the shady side.

Choose Life.

Sporty. Sleek. Stylish. Swoosh!

During the administrative planning stage of the California trip, my husband and I discussed the countless ways in which transportation might be afforded our family. We considered almost every option under the sun, and finally settled on the choice to do a short term lease.

Upon our arrival in May, we entered an unpretentious building, on an almost delapidated car lot, and began the process to secure a vehicle. Due to the small nature of the facility, it became quickly clear that the pickin's were slim, as to what type of automobile I'd actually drive away in.

For about two days, we drove a tuna can that barely fit in the garage. Unsatisfied that I'd survive the summer in such condition, we took it back, to exchange.

The day we did so, I discovered, by accident (and my sheer delight) a car of this make and model.:

A beauty of a sporty, yet practical little car that fit me well, fit the garage well, and could deliver us to our various and sundry destinations with ease.

I've loved my little car.

So much so that my husband has made comment on the fact that I've said nary a cross word about it. Perhaps he should invest in one, to make it my very own? He has queried? Well, we can leave that for another blogpost. No pressure, Gil.

Meanwhile, as I've sported 'round the greater LA area, a technicality arose.

The car registration tags expired.

I'd driven in this condition, unaware, for almost three months, until that fateful day that I was informed by a dutiful LA traffic enforcer. [ahem. That's all we'll say about that!]

Therefore, a trip to the Little-Car-Shop-That-Could, in hopes of securing said such tags.

***Enter dramatic, tension building music here***

As I walked in the front door, the California Cutie who has always handled our account (predominantly because she is a veritable one-woman-show at this small outfit) greeted me with these words: "Oh! I need to talk to you!!"

I am fairly certain color drained from my face.

What dreadful words.

Had a stealth camera at a busy intersection caught me unawares, scooting through a red light? Was a heafty fee of $381 being leveled at me? (Oh the dread at the thought! {{shudder!}})

Um, no.

My sporty little car, it seems, had been SOLD by the company.

It was my job to vacate said such car, immediately.

DRAT! and Double Drat!!

- A resigned sigh. -

Enter the Lord in His magnificent timing.

As California Cutie and I surveyed the meager furnishings of the car lot for a suitable replacement, and I settled in to my fate, I looked down.

Before me stood the car I arrived in.

Next to that, a fresh rental.

Next to that . . .

THE EXACT SAME CAR I HAVE BEEN DRIVING ALL ALONG!

"Um . . .how about that one?" I asked, pointing nervously at the sleek little home on wheels. I half expected to hear her say it was in for repairs, or something.

She looked,

and blinked,

and looked again.

"Wow! The man who just walked in the building when we were exiting is bringing that back. Do you want it? I can do the transfer immediately."

Did I want it???

I was handed a gift from the Lord. The only exchange I made in this little endeavor was a trade for a cleaner interioir and less mileage.

Not too shabby.

Thanks, Lord, for answering before I could even call.

And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear. Isaiah 65:24

Culmination.

It had to be the result of all three events, converging upon me within a 24 hour time frame.

Event #1. I had occasion to meet a fellow homeschooling mom, whom I had one of those immediate, God-kind of connections with. Our conversation was way too brief, and only managed to highlight the like mindedness on several different fronts. I walked away feeling as though I'd had balm placed upon my soul, and a hunger to return to the conversation as soon as possible.

Event #2. I called my soon-to-arrive-by-jet-plane friend, and, in my craziest, zaniest manner ever, poked fun at her panic-ridden last minute preparatory state. To this she replied, "I haven't heard you kid around like that in a long time!" I responded: "See what you drag outta me?!" Laughing, we knew it was true. Watch out world. We're getting together again. Where's the boom mike? The latest and greatest reality show, comin' right up!

Event #3. It was late, and I was tired when I found it. An edifying note from an online friend that brought hot tears to my eyes. And why? I mused? She didn't know it, doesn't know, couldn't possibly have known it . . .but she spoke my love language, and it permeated my heart.

I trust you'll be able to see how all three of these separate yet intertwined events brought me to the stark reality, the culmination of understanding in my mind:

My time in California has been marked by loneliness.

Oh, I've had plenty of interaction with others. My children and I are blessed to be growing in relationship with one another. I've met lots of people, even shared a meal, fellowship, and good things with them. I've talked to complete strangers for lengths of time. I've become a familiar face at a few hangouts . . .

Yet I am alone. Lonely in a way that surprises me.

I believe I have plumbed a new depth in understanding of the loneliness that Jesus experienced. Could it be, that because He understood the plan of the Father, understood matters from a spiritual perspective that *that* was the loneliness He lived? The fact that others around Him were operating on the plane of life called the mundane? The routine? The natural? The same old same old?

I'm not calling my self super-spiritual. What I'm attempting to convey is that, in the majority (not all, just the higher percentage of) my dealing s with others here, I find a lack of awareness or even, in some cases, acknowledgement of spiritual things. The realm in which most I've connected with remains the realm of the here and now. The seen.

{pause}

Perhaps this is a great gift from the Lord, this fellowship with His sufferings I am experiencing?

Training Wheels

I found the analogy worthy of my current experience:

My computer system (rigged with particular bells and whistles to me, carefully selected and bestowed upon me by my husband) is very much like a ten-speed bicycle. Plenty of operating room, plenty of gears with which to down shift if necessary, in order to power up that hill. A sleek design, capable of moving swiftly at a mere muscular command, taking me where I wish to go.

My sons' computer system (rigged with just a basic operating system, nary a bell nor a whistle) is like a tricycle. A three-wheeled job that gets one down to the end of the driveway and back, with quite a bit of physical exertion just to complete that task. It's cute, it's functional, but it's not all that equipped to take me where I need to go on a daily basis.

When I discovered over the past 24 hours that I was completely unable to resize and crop photos without downloading a program, my heart sank. When I found out that I could not open a MS Word document without downloading a reader (a reader!!), I felt at a loss. When I realized that I could not tune in to my favorite internet Bible study without accessing once again the software, I felt undermined.

The search continues for my operating system cd that would take me through the restoration process necessary for my computer's good health. Gil is *certain* he moved it to Cali with us. I cannot locate it here, he cannot locate it there.

With an honest and sincere heart I've repented for my misuse of valuable time. Truly I have. Therefore, my heart cry is that the Lord's correction will come to an end. May He see fit to reveal that which is hidden, and restore unto me my operating system cd.

Please, Lord? Pretty please??

For there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; neither hid, that shall not be known. Luke 12:2

Reprimanded.

I had high hopes surrounding some major Bible study time yesterday. I had awoken with purpose and resolve toward accomplishing at least one of the three studies I've currently got going, and, I was desirous to taking in a new thought via a podcast I've had my eye on.

The day started out fine. All things in my world were tidy and neat. Roast in the crockpot, cookies made from scratch the previous day were neatly stacked and wrapped, just waiting to be imbibbed; the windows were open, allowing a cool and gentle breeze to waft in . . .

Restful. That was the atmosphere of my little home in Cali.

I put both feet in first, spending the better part of an hour going over various Scriptures, ingesting them, mulling them over in my mind, considering.

Then, Keller demanded me. The phone rang. Kids began arriving at our doorstep. And Gustav was threatening.

Before I knew it, I was wisked away on a tidal wave named 'cares of this life' and I stood, mezmerized by the reports from NOAA and Intellicast and the Gulf Coast local websites.

Yes, it was in part worthy of my attention. Yet too much attention, according to my Father, as I finally lay myhead on the pillow late last night . . .er, this morning. Still a tad wound, I opened a book I've been reading to a random page. The words were clear and crisp, and the Lord was speaking directly to me:

But it shall come to pass, if thou wilt not hearken unto the voice of Jehovah thy God, to observe to do all his commandments and his statutes which I command thee this day, that all these curses shall come upon thee, and overtake thee. Deut 28:15

I was immediately convicted.

I had allowed the day to pass, to wash over me, without maintaining my resolve. I was quickly reminded of how easy it is to get one's eyes off of the prize of the high calling in Christ Jesus onto worldly things.

So, I repented. Right then and there.

I fell asleep, knowing that tomorrow I would be much wiser in my use of time spent with Him. That Bible study that's been on my plate for weeks now? I may not "finish" it . . .but I sure the heck am gonna take a big bite today.

Thanks to the reprimand of the Father.

My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him: For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons. Furthermore we have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave them reverence: shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits, and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure; but he for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby. Hebrews 12: 5-11

Hungry.

Show me Your ways, O Lord; teach me Your paths. Lead me in Your Truth and teach me . . .for You are the God of my salvation. On You do I wait all the day. Psalm 26:4-5

Considering seasons and times and windows of days gone by ~ the beautiful ways in which the Lord has drawn me, and taught me, as I sat at His knee.

Considering the seasons and times and windows of days to come ~ may the Lord be pleased to continue the good work He has begun; may He yet teach me and show me His salvation, as I wait on Him.

The Bulgarian And The Brit

My mind was racing and my heart was full, so I decided that a return to the park was in order. The peaceful [albeit industrially imposed upon] surroundings would do much in the way of bringing me back to a steady stance. I grabbed my Bible, and the blanket; loaded everyone into the car and headed out.

Dropping off Israel at class, I could feel my internal gears beginning to shift, to relax. I chose to meander the circuitous walking path several times, before I selected the spot in which I would settle in for some prayerful meditation.

The evening was perfect. Keller and the DellDog were both extremely content, and my reading material was a pristine antidote toward restoring my soul. The hour passed by uneventful, as the usual number of exercise buffs was diminished.

I noticed her because she was beautful. The petite blond mother of a baby about one year old. Her perfectly coifed and freshly cut hair framed her face, which was hidden behind oversized sunglasses. Up, up, up she climbed on the various playground equipment - calling to her son, laughing together with her husband, who delighted in the boys' primary sliding accomplishments alongside her. I watched for some space of time, the love-birds and their nested one.

I turned my attention back to reading.

When Dell unexpectedly jumped from his recline, I looked up, suprised to find that the baby and his mother had migrated our direction. Reeling Dell back in, close to my side, I spoke in reassuring tones that he was contained.

She drew near.

I really didn't feel like talking, but it was obvious that the baby was very interested in our little set-up, on the grass, in the park. Stooping on the ledge, she began to inquire of me various motherly-type questions. I let down my guard, such was the strength of her captivating innocence; the simplicity of her presence.

Chatting, chatting . . .she spoke of this and that, and the other . . .and of communication back home with her family. Her comments, coupled with her halted English prompted me to ask: What was her ethnicity?

Bulgarian.

I began to understand her beauty.

She inquired of the meaning of Keller's name, and the ethnicity of it. Why did we choose that name? This is the equivalent word in Bulgarian . . .

She lifted the dark, heavy frames off of her face, and onto her head, revealing the most stunningly beautiful blue-green eyes I'd ever seen complimenting a tawny-creamy skin tone. I drank her in with my eyes, wondering all the more. Her simplicity was ever more apparent.

Void of the hautiness; the vanity; the self-centered demeanor I've encountered so often here in the big city ~ I wondered if she were a Christ-One.

Continuing her chat, she then posed her question to me: From whence did I hail? My ethnicity? As I told her, she blushed, and turned her head away slightly.

"I thought you were British. You're not British? You sound British."

I smiled inwardly, choosing ot not laugh outloud and startle her, knowing the countless number of times I've played the uppity English accent for fun.

"No, I'm not a Brit." (But I could play one on TV I thought!)

As the conversation closed, and she turned to leave, I invited her back to our little cove, should she see us here again.

Watching her return to her beloved, my eyes followed her in prayer.

Lord, if she know not You, I ask You to draw her to Your Kingdom. Send laborers into her harvest field, and show her Your glory.

When The Lord Responds

O God, thou art my God; earnestly will I seek thee: My soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee, In a dry and weary land, where no water is.
So have I looked upon thee in the sanctuary, To see thy power and thy glory.
Because thy lovingkindness is better than life, My lips shall praise thee.
So will I bless thee while I live: I will lift up my hands in thy name.
My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness; And my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips;
When I remember thee upon my bed, And meditate on thee in the night-watches.
For thou hast been my help, And in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice.
My soul followeth hard after thee: Thy right hand upholdeth me. Psalm 63:1-8

The Waiting Game

Pour me another cup of coffee.

Let the meditation of my heart and the words of my mouth be pleasing unto the Lord.


Let me be mindful that a man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven. [John 3:27]

It is the Lord that turns the kings heart as the watercourses, turning it where He wills it to go. [Proverbs 21:1]

May I be mindful, and acknowledge that everything that God puts in our hand belongs to Him and is to serve Him. We are here to serve Him.

May we do it well, as vessels of honor in His hand, unto His Kingdom purpose and plan, fufilling all the counsel of His will.

{sipping coffee, listening to the ticking of the clock . . .}

to be continued.

Trekkies: Part 2

Having my sense of balance askew was a new situational experience that I hadn't planned on running into, when we headed out to Vasquez Rocks. Normally very game for a solid hike, even a bit of terrain, I found myself a bit disappointed that I couldn't reach the summit myself, if I continued with Keller in tow. From my current perch, I watched, with a bit of chagrin, the children enjoying every moment of their vista.




The sun was beating down on us with an unexpected ferocity. I stood, perspiring, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, as though I could relate to Hagar, when she ran out of water for her son, sought solace under the nearest desert shrubbery I could find. Thankfully, the park service saw fit to supply a picnic table, so that I didn't have to recline in the sandy soil.




The rest proved needed, but unsatisfying . . .as I truly wanted to find a vantage point of my own. Gil and I began meandering around the canyon. He found a crevice that caught his attention, and soon, he disappeared from sight. I continued on, circling the backside of the precipice:





There, about halfway down the side of the craggy rock, just under the lip lay a wonder that I was soon to discover. As I came closer to the vertical view of the outcrop, I saw from below a "keyhole". It appeared to be an easy ascension, so I began gingerly making my way upward, Keller now seated securely on my hip. He continued to remove his hat, though, so I once again became concerned about the intense sunrays that sought us out like a piece of bacon in a frying pan.






Up, up, up I climbed. The grip was easy, even though I could turn and look down, aware that we were quite high from the level ground. Once I reached the area nearest the keyhole, there was no way I could go any further, without some serious rock climbing manuevers. No way, with Keller on my hip, that I could do it. So, once again, I sat.


In the distance, I could see Israel ~ ant-like, as he scampered the canyon floor. I called to him. He couldn't see me, but he followed the sound of my voice, until, finally, he managed to meet me, under yet another shrub. I immediately put him to work.


"Here. Take care of Keller. I want to investigate the keyhole." I told him. I turned, and began climbing up the rough edges of the rock, leaving Keller contendedly playing with my oldest son.




Ahhhh ~ from the vantage point of the keyhole I took in the vistas. The beauty that lay before me encircled my being, and a peaceful sense of solitude, plus the presence of God surrounded me. I became quite interested in a bird on a nearby lone tree branch, amazed that a tree was even able to grow in such conditions.

As I futzed and fiddled with my camera settings, totally engrossed in my happy place, I suddenly heard slipping gravel. Turning to discover the source, my mouth gaped open as Israel's head poked up above the rock, with Keller securely attached to his hip and shoulder. Egads!

"Aaak! Israel! Be careful with him!" I nearly shouted. Israel confidently looked at me, and said, "We're fine. I've got him." And with those words, began investigating the keyhole himself.

Sure enough, Keller was fine. And when we left our little hideaway, I didn't watch as Israel navigated the mountainside downward. I just swallowed hard, and prayed. True to form, the IsraeliBoy kept his little brother safe and sound.

We found the others waiting at the vehicle, almost panicked over where we might be. Relieved to see us, they assisted in loading the car with precious life. As we drove away, everyone had stories to tell . . .but no one came close to describing the moment when I knew that the Lord had given me a cleft in the Rock in which to find His presence in a dry and thirsty land.