Another Fall post

The Lord has a sense of humor. I have always thought that, after all, He created me. That aside, as I walked out to drive to Bible Study this morning I remembered something about this glorious season.

Our side porch was covered in leaves. Lots of them. It is then that I remembered another side of fall ~ leaves. I know I have waxed poetic about the beauty and the rustling and even about the dance of leaves. I believed everything I wrote also.

Today however, I remembered fall. I kicked away the leaves and left. As I drove up the driveway there was a little swirl of fallen leaves as I drove by. These are those brown lifeless leaves, the kind that need to be raked.

I came home and swept my front porch. That was just a couple of hours ago. Looking out, it needs swept again. I really haven’t bothered with my side porch yet. I know once I start I will be doing it several times a day. At least with snow, you can shovel it and it remains a path of sorts. Our leaves, they just pile up.

Soon our driveway (gravel) will disappear. You will turn into our driveway and won’t be able to tell what is yard and what is gravel unless you know where it is.

Yes, I am grousing a bit about this, but, it’s not that I am disliking or angry about it all. No, I still love fall. Truthfully, I won’t be sweeping often to keep the porches clear, but I will make certain they won’t be slippery to walk on.

Our first frost warning was issued for Wednesday night (well, early morning). It’s a great time of year. I love the crispness and the leaves and the light.

I just smiled today as I looked at the side porch covered up. I could almost hear our Lord chuckling to me as if to say, “So, you love this season? How about those leaves?” And as I go to sweep them and rake a bit, I will be thankful to be able to do so. Thankful for a God who gives us seasons and lessons to learn during them.

My God

We each have a view of what God looks like. He is different in the mind and eyes of each of us.

To me, He is hard to describe, as I know I won’t know His countenance until the day I see Him face to face. I also recognize that at that time He won’t be at all like I have imagined Him.

Today, while walking and praying about what to write, I went through my usual list of what I write about, the weather, the feel of the air, my grandkids, my kids, my hubby, experiences. I was at a loss for ideas. Then in the deep recesses of my mind I heard, “Write about Me.” I actually chuckled out loud. Yeh, right.

Then, I started pondering that comment. Yes, I write about my faith, what I think His many names mean, my faith, and , although those all point to God, I have never really written about Him.

How do you write about a person you have never met, yet have such a strong relationship with? How do you describe the Creator of the Universe? What descriptors do I use to portray Him? You can see my dilemma.

I was raised like my sisters and friends. God was God. He always was and will always be. He frowns at sin, yet He blots sin out with the blood of Jesus.

I confess over the years He has switched from being a big bad boogey man who randomly tosses lightening to fry me and thunders disapproval at me to my place of comfort.

After the death of my Dad, I read Psalm 68:4-5, “Sing to God, sing praises to His name;
Extol Him who rides on the clouds, By His name Yah, And rejoice before Him. A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, Is God in His holy habitation.” (NKJV)

This brought me comfort.

God is my Father. He is the perfect Father. As is true with fathers, God has taught me lessons, both the easy way and the hard way when I insist on doing it ‘my’ way. God has been there in the night time when tears fall and I am distressed. He listens to me drone on and on, never judging me and letting me talk. He brings me comfort, joy and peace.

My God is mighty and strong. He reveals Himself to me in His creation. I love how He paints the sunrise and sunset. I love how He laughs with me at times, and I know He laughs at me when I truly goof up. Sometimes kids make you laugh.

When I think of how to describe my version of God, I think of a quilt. An old quilt. A quilt that has been washed many times and each square is soft fabric, faded a bit, but familiar. A quilt that lays heavy on you, not to oppress you, but to bring a security and comfort you can’t receive elsewhere. A place where tears can fall easily, but they are wiped away gently.

A song that describes how I feel about my God,

He is our peace
Who has broken down every wall,
He is our peace, He is our peace.
He is our peace
Who has broken down every wall,
He is our peace, He is our peace.

Cast all your cares on Him,
For He cares for you,
He is our peace, He is our peace.

He is our peace
Who has broken down every wall,
He is our peace, He is our peace.
He is our peace
Who has broken down every wall,
He is our peace, He is our peace.

Cast all your cares on Him,
For He cares for you,
He is our peace, He is our peace.

Hear That? God is a Gentle Whisper

 And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper.” I Kings 19:12 (NLT)

After Elijah killed all the prophets of Baal, he fled to Mt. Sinai and waited to hear from God. The above verse talks about all the ways Elijah thought God would answer. I love the end of the verse though, and after the fire was the sound of a gentle whisper.

How many times do we expect a boisterous answer? We expect fire, lightening, earthquakes, booming voices, we want the drama. God is capable of all of this. But, often He will gentle whisper. We have to listen carefully, but the answer is there.

The past two days and nights we visited Little Miss’ lake house. It was a quick trip and on the spur of the moment. The late summer weather was perfect for boating and watching Little Miss tubing solo and with her Dad. This morning as we were on the lake there was a feeling of end of summer. The sun was hot, but the air was almost fall-ish.

The past days as we have ventured out on the lake I have heard gentle whispers in the air. I truly felt the presence of God. He whispered to me as I watched a pair of bald eagles circle above us. The majesty of the birds, they symbol of America, strong, independent and soaring.

I heard the Gentle Whisper speak to me as we watched the sun start it’s descent in the west. The Artist of all creation painting the sky. Giggles and laughter from our Little Miss filled me with joy to see her grow in new ways. This too, is our God softly speaking to her, urging her to conquer adventures and new activities.

God, the Gentle Whisper fills us with peace and joy. We sometimes have to slow down to experience this. Like Elijah we expect major things to show us God’s hand. God does not always shout, instead, He leans close to us, and pulls us near Him and whispers.

What’s Up With the Roses? Part 1 Background

Roses became a part of my life during our last few days living in Winter Harbor Maine. Below is the story of how that happened.

A group of ladies in Winter Harbor joined together each Tuesday morning for a Bible Study. We all lived transient lives, depending on the Navy to give us orders of where we would live and also let us know when it was time to retire.

Whenever one of us were retiring or changing duty stations, the girls in Bible Study would do what had become a traditional farewell gathering. Of course, we would eat (that’s a given), then we would each sign a book for the person leaving. There would be prayer for her and lots of tears and hugs. Parting is never easy, even when you know it is a part of the life you have chosen for yourself.

My going away party was no different. Brunch was served, book was signed and then the prayer time. One women had written a lovely note to me as she had felt God had given her. It talked about my life being a rose and that in our new life in San Diego I would blossom into what the Lord had planned for me. Pretty wonderful, right? I smiled, content in what I had heard. And then… there is always continuations, those three dots in your life, like waiting for a shoe to drop. The other shoe dropped shortly after that.

Another woman, while praying after the letter had been read cleared her throat and began speaking. I will never forget her words. She said, “And as a rose has many thorns for it’s beauty, there are many thorns awaiting you.”

Now, you would think that would deter me from lovingly following my husband cross country, a logical person would do so. Not me. Acts 21:11 says, “He came over, took Paul’s belt, and bound his own feet and hands with it. Then he said, “The Holy Spirit declares, ‘So shall the owner of this belt be bound by the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem and turned over to the Gentiles.’” (NLT) I had often wondered how Paul could continue his journey into Jerusalem, and yet he did.

The night of my going away brunch we went to a movie, I can’t remember what it was because I was thinking about Paul going into Jerusalem knowing what awaited him. I was still wrestling with what had been said to me earlier. In between the popcorn, candy and soft drinks I realized that although my feet and hands had not been bound, I was facing the unknown.

A few days later, we packed our U-Haul and started our journey. Our plan at that time was to go to San Diego, my husband do his tour on his destroyer, and he would get out and go to Bible College. Our plan was 7 years and we would head back to Maine. Proverbs 16:9 says, ” We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.” (NLT) Determine our steps He did. 28 years later we left San Diego.

Were there thorns awaiting me? Too many to count! Did I want to give up? Yes. Many times I found myself on my face pleading for God to remove things before me.

What I learned was strength, trust, prayer, and faith. Our God will never leave us. He is our constant source of strength.

May your day be filled with the goodness of our God.