Author Archives: Patricia Ann

More on Not to Worry

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In 1989 the Canadian economy experienced the beginning of a downturn, and the booming business I had been used to for four years in my pretty little gift shop was suddenly not booming anymore. In fact it got to the point where I was behind on my rent. While trying to get past this hurdle without reverting back to the old worry habit, I turned the radio on to this line of Bobby McFerrin’s 1988 hit, Don’t Worry, Be Happy…The landlord says your rent is late…he may have to litigate…but don’t worry, be happy.

It made me laugh, and freed my mind to thinking through my dilemma, which got suitably sorted out in the end.

And then there’s this from Alpha’s Challenging Lifestyle by Nicky Gumbel:

It’s an excerpt from the chapter, How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.

There are seven reasons why we should not worry:

First…To worry is to miss the point in life

Second…Worry is illogical…it is a slander on God’s character

Third…Worry is a complete waste of time; it is futile, unproductive and pointless. So many things we worry about never happen.

Fourth…Worry is incompatible with faith

Fifth…Worry is un-Christian

Sixth…Worry is unnecessary

Seventh…Worry is incompatible with common sense. (This is my favorite)

And then there is this from All Things Are Possible Through Prayer by Charles L. Allen

Worry? Why worry? What can worry do?

It never keeps a trouble from overtaking you.

It gives you indigestion and sleepless hours at night

And fills with gloom the days, however fair and bright.

It puts a frown upon the face and sharpness to the tone.

We’re unfit to live with others and unfit to live alone.

Worry? Why worry? What can worry do?

It never keeps a trouble from overtaking you.

Pray? Why pray? What can praying do?

Praying really changes things, arranges life anew.

It’s good for your digestion, gives peaceful sleep at night

And fills the grayest, gloomiest day with rays of glowing light.

It puts a smile upon your face, the love note in your tone,

Makes you fit to live with others and fit to live alone.

Pray? Why pray? What can praying do?

It brings God down from heaven, to live and work with you.

Finally, this from an unknown poet:

In life there are only two things to worry about,

whether you are well, or whether you are sick.

If you are well, you have nothing to worry about,

but if you are sick, there are only two things to worry about;

whether you will get better or whether you will die.

If you get better, you have nothing to worry about,

but if you die, there are only two things to worry about;

whether you will go to heaven or to hell.

If you go to heaven, you have nothing to worry about,

and if you go to hell, you will be so busy shaking hands with your friends,

you won’t have time to worry!

That’s the end of the worry topic. Now for tomorrow’s post. Hmmm, let me think!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Bible on Anger

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Here’s a poem I wrote in 1979 after throwing a hissy-fit, and shouting in anger at someone that I can’t even remember now. I do remember saying things I wished I hadn’t. The words hurled themselves at my targeted victim, like darts at a dart board, and I was immediately filled with regret. Since then I have worked very hard at harnassing my anger, but every once in a while, something triggers it, and off I go on a short-lived tangent. Here then is Anger:

When anger

rears its ugly head,

the spoken word

is best unsaid.

The heat of anger

spawns words of ice,

sears heart and soul

and quickly dies

to a smoldering ash

of regret.

©1979

Somehow it makes me feel better to know that even Jesus got angry on several occasions. Mark 3:5 tells us, “He looked around at them in anger, deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts.”

In Matthew 21:12 he overturned tables and chairs in his anger at the people using the temple as a marketplace.

In Exodus 32, God tells Moses how angry he is that the people carved out a golden calf to worship, and calls them a stiff-necked people. And then Moses gets really angry with the people and smashes the tablets God had written upon up on the mountain. There was a lot of anger going on in the Old Testament and that’s not even touching on Noah and the flood in Genesis.

And yet James, in the New Testament, cautions that everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.  (James 1:19) Oh, how I need to heed that advice sometimes!

Paul tells the Ephesians, “Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,… (Ephesians 4:26)

This makes good sense because to go to bed angry would not promote a good night sleep.

Ah, is it any wonder that the Bible is one of my favorite books? It is filled with such history, wisdom, poetry and yes, even a hint of anger to ease my conscience when I succumb to that dreaded emotion on occasion.

 

 

The Number Seven

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This is my seventieth post since April 5th of this year and I want to celebrate this feat with a post about my favorite number…SEVEN.

Seven is God’s number; the number of perfection, and is mentioned hundreds of time in the Bible. I’m not a scholar, so I can’t be exact, but here are just a few trivia facts about the number seven. (You may want to refer to Humanity 777’s blog.)

At the beginning of the bible, it states in Genesis that God created the world in six days and on the SEVENTH day He rested. Also in Genesis He tells Noah to take SEVEN (or seven pairs) of every kind of animal into the ark. In Revelation alone, this number is mentioned over and over again. And then there is the well known scripture, Matthew 18:22 where Jesus tells Peter he must forgive not SEVEN times but SEVENTY-SEVEN times. There is a chapter on this in My Precious Life, the book.

Everyday trivia about this number includes, SEVEN days in a week, SEVEN dwarfs, SEVEN brides for SEVEN brothers, SEVEN wonders of the world, SEVEN continents, SEVEN seas, to list a few.

In my own life I have a special angel whose number is 777. I call her Celeste. Also in my own life I recorded this data on February 1, 2003 because of the significance of the number:

7 Astronauts died when the Columbia shuttle disintegrated over Texas

7 Students died in an avalanche in B.C.

7 People died in an avalanche on Jan. 20/03 in B.C.

When I recorded this information, I also made a note that SEVEN is God’s number; is He trying to tell us something? And if so, what?

When I am out and about and see a triple SEVEN anywhere; car license plates, bus numbers, telephone numbers, street numbers, etc., it brings an instant smile to my face.

I consider this blog a celebration of my SEVENTIETH post, which also brings a smile to my face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do Not Worry

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The more I think about this worry habit, the more I feel for the people who haven’t conquered it yet. It is so freeing, not to worry, just like quitting smoking… so freeing.

Jesus says, in Matthew 6:25…do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.

Well, you’re saying, that’s okay for Jesus to say, but what about this wedding that’s coming up? What am I going to wear? Well, you’re going to do one of two things, you are either going to go out and buy a new dress/suit, or you will find something in your closet that will suffice nicely (or maybe not so nicely, but will suffice.) After all, the focus is not going to be on you, now, is it?

I can say this with confidence, and I’ll tell you why. Many years ago, I attended a highschool graduation of a young lady I knew very well. The girls were decked out to the nines in gorgeous gowns, upswept hair, and impeccable makeup. The guys looked good too. All were smiling confidently.

But the focus was on a young lady dressed in a nicely starched and ironed, plain white blouse, and a pair of blue jeans. Her  pretty face was bare of makeup and her hair was tied back in a short ponytail. She followed in the procession, head high, shoulders back, wearing  a not-so-confident smile.

She was aware of her poverty, and the difference it made between her and her class mates. Although she was graduating head of her class, she had told her teachers that she would not be participating in the ceremony or the gala festivities afterwards. Neither she, nor her parents, could afford the upscale restaurant meal that was part of the celebration; nor for obvious reasons, would she be attending the prom afterwards.

One teacher was so proud of the young lady’s achievements, that she encouraged the girl to receive her diploma along with the class, even if she felt like Cinderella, and insisted on paying for her dinner. “You deserve that much”, the teacher emphasized.

And so, there she was, in blue jeans and ponytail, no longer worrying what she should wear, or what she would eat.

I was not alone in feeling that that young lady was the most beautiful graduate of the evening, nor was I the only one who saw Jesus in the teacher.

 

Not to Worry

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There’s a chapter in my forthcoming book, My Precious Life, on worrying and how not to do it. In 2011, I gave a talk on this topic, to the Women’s Group at my church. Today, while pondering what to write for my next blog, I came across another bit about the worry habit, which didn’t make it into my book or the church talk. (I don’t know how I missed it!)

MORE FOR “NOT TO WORRY”

Here’s a Mother Goose rhyme found in Dale Carnegie’s

How to Stop Worrying and Start Living:

For every ailment under the sun

There is a remedy or there is none

If there be one, try to find it

If there be none, never mind it.

From Dr. Seuss:

I have heard there are troubles

Of more than one kind,

Some come from ahead

And some come from behind

But I’ve bought a big bat,

I’m all ready, you see

Now my troubles are going to have trouble with me.

From The purpose Driven Life pg. 90: (Rick Warren)

When you think about a problem over and over in your mind, that’s called worry. When you think about God’s Word over and over in your mind, that’s meditation. If you know how to worry you already know how to meditate! You just need to switch your attention from your problems to Bible verses. The more you meditate on God’s Word, the less you will have to worry about.

A worried Christian is a contradiction in terms. (In the Hands of God – Wm. Barclay)

Worrying is truly one of our favorite pastimes It takes very little for us to start worrying about things we have never worried about before. (Jeanette & Roy Henderson)

There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will….Epictetus (Taught in 19th century Rome)

A NOTE:   When I gave the talk  in 2011, I mentioned how the hymn, “What a Friend We Have In Jesus” came to me at a stressful time. In May of that year, I read How to Stop Worrying and Start Living by Dale Carnegie (as noted above). Chapter nineteen told of a woman about to commit suicide, and take her five children with her, when the words of that hymn came to her also, and saved her life.

Like me, she made God a promise (to never again prove ungrateful).

I promised Him I’d never doubt again. Do you think I kept that promise?

Not to worry!

 

 

 

 

 

In My Mind’s Eye

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Somewhere in the seventies, I don’t remember the exact date, I had cataract surgery. Ocular implants were reserved for older patients, and because I was only in my early forties, I was fitted with contact lenses.

As I got older (way older), in my mind’s eye, I wondered what would happen if I was ever really sick and had to stay in hospital. How would I manage the contact lenses I had worn for years. Without them, I wouldn’t be able see clearly (hardly at all). This thought, for some reason, was always on my mind.

I’d go to bed at night and say a prayer that I would never have to face that dilemma.

One morning I woke up and could see everything clearly. Its’ a miracle, I thought, I can see again! But then my eyes began to feel uncomfortable–I had slept the night wearing the contact lenses. This happened a few times, and my vision began to deteriorate.

In 1994 I had my eyes checked. Being a busy entrepreneur, this checkup was long overdue. The optometrist said my eyes were lacking oxygen from the long time use of contacts, and I should think about implanted lenses.

In September, 1995 I opted for the implant surgery, and completed the procedure in October of that year. What a difference it made in my life not to have to bother with those lenses anymore. Now, when I woke up each morning I could see the clock without having to get up and put my contacts in. I could read at night and just turn out the light without having to get up and take the contacts out. Swimming was an extra bonus. I didn’t have to search the bottom of the pool for my contact lenses.

One year later, I had a bad fall and was hospitalized for a week. My left arm and leg were encased in casts–I would not have been able to manage contacts. I was in misery, but contact lenses were the least of my worries; my mind’s eye had seen to that. I do believe God played his part as well–as usual.

Did I ever mention I believe strongly in the power of prayer?

A Heavenly Message

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It was June 29, 2007, when Jerry, my second partner in life for twenty-seven years, traded life on this planet for life in Heaven. Maxine, his part-time caregiver, called me on July 2nd to tell me that she had a dream about me the night before. She said that I told her to read the Bible, and vaguely recalled Psalm 2 and Hebrews 5. Intrigued, I opened my Bible to Psalm 2, but it didn’t speak to me. I then turned to Hebrews 5, and read in verse five, “You are my Son; today I have become your Father.” That sounded familiar, so I went back and read Psalm 2 again. Sure enough, in verse seven, I read, “You are my Son; today I have become your Father.” The next thing I knew, I was writing the following poem.

TODAY I AM YOUR FATHER

Your life on earth has ended,

Your new life has begun,

Today I am your Father,

Today you are my son.

Your gentle heart stopped beating,

You breathed your final breath,

And because I am your Father,

You’ve won victory over death.

Well done, my faithful servant,

You struggled, not in vain,

For now you’re safely home with me,

Your new life free from pain.

I whispered, “Gerald, come to me.”

You answered, “Lord, I come.”

Today I am your Father

Welcome Home, my son.

©2007

I love it when my dreams speak to me, but when someone else’s dreams speak to me, I’m left incredulous.

 

 

 

 

The Winning Circle

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Today I’m borrowing a story from my book of poems. I wrote it in 1994, and it’s about a parent or adult helping a child become aware of nature, dreams, kindness, and the world in general. I believe it fits nicely into the theme of My Precious Life, if not into the book itself.

The Winning Circle

Come little child, take my hand,
and together we will walk
through a forest green,
by a flowing stream
where the winds and the waters talk.

The sounds they speak
brush against your cheek,
mere words need not be said;
hear the bird’s high trill
from a far off hill,
breathe the scent of a wildflower bed.

Come little child, and take my hand
as the twilight turns to purple;
we’ll dance on a breeze
through the moonlit trees
in search of the winning circle.

We traveled all night
as the moon’s clear light
shone bright on the path before us;
to the chirp of night crickets
and a bullfrog’s loud “ribbits”
we sped through the carpeted forest.

We sometimes grew weary,
but the sound of a cheery
night owl’s encouraging cry
kept us skipping and dancing
and breathlessly prancing
until dawn decorated the sky.

We came to a meadow
and delightfully settled
in a bed of soft grass and flowers;
as dreams drifted o’er us
to refresh and restore us
we slumbered in dawn’s early hours.

We soared t’wards the moon
in a hot air balloon
dodging dazzling stars in night skies;
as we gazed down at earth,
the place of our birth
a vision appeared to our eyes.

We saw wars being fought,
many people distraught
by the horrors happening to them;
we saw famine and disease
and despite the world’s pleas
the good life seemed doomed
for all humans.

Then words soft and clear
in our hearts we did hear,
“Give hope, offer your hand.
Do a kind deed,
help those in need.”
We awoke to the sounds of the land.

As we traveled along, child, you and I,
we came to a town called “Wanting”.
The people there
were hungry and bare,
and the look in their eyes was haunting.

We met a young lad
whose demeanor was sad
for all he wore was a sack;
without further ado
I gave him my shoes
you gave him the shirt off your back.

We tended the sick,
shared our food and our water
until all we could do was done;
then we bade them good-day
and went on our way
in the glow of the setting sun.

Come, little child, take my hand
as we come to our journey’s end;
we have traveled well
and have much to tell,
we must share it with a friend.

We must tell of the need
to do a kind deed,
and to lend a helping hand;
for the world needs us all,
young, old, great and small,
to make it a happier land.

Come, little child, and take my hand
as the twilight turns to purple;
we’ll dance on a breeze
through the moonlit trees
into the winning circle.

©1994

Love in the Afternoon

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It was four o’clock in the afternoon on Saturday, May 31, 2014. The venue was Mill Run Golf Course in Uxbridge, Ontario.

The near-by pond was perfectly still in the soft, spring breeze, and the air was full of birdsong and love.

My beautiful granddaughter, Laura, was marrying her high-school sweetheart, Cameron.

As the groom waited expectantly on the lush grass, the bridal party advanced along a carpeted path towards him: six beautiful young ladies dressed in knee-length, burgundy dresses, tan, calf-high, cowboy boots, and each carrying a white baby’s-breath bouquet. The groom’s men were elegant in their blue-grey suits, dark grey ties, and matching pocket squares.

Six-year-old Taylor, the sweetest flower girl ever, followed with a small wagon in which Jack, the four-month old ring-bearer, was ensconced, dressed in a tiny grey suit and little cap to shade his head. Taylor looked like an angel, and not only pulled baby Jack in the wagon, but scattered rose petals along the way. This little beauty is one of my great-granddaughters, so I was especially touched.

And then came the moment Cam was waiting for. His lovely bride, in a stunning, strapless, gown of white, layered satin and lace, walked slowly towards her husband-to-be on the arm of her extremely proud father.

I will interject here, that it was to be a strictly secular affair, but when the official began to speak, it became clear that God was at this wedding, and I could not contain my happy tears.

Being surrounded with all that beauty and love was enough in itself to make my heart burst with joy, but when God showed up so unexpectedly that Saturday afternoon, my joy was complete.

I can’t close without telling you that when I later told Laura how thrilled I was with the ceremony, she confided that the minister, knowing they were a secular couple, asked if they wanted to leave anything out and Cam said, “No, we’ll leave it in for Nana”. I’m almost moved to tears writing this, because secular or not, God’s love, true and unconditional, was evident that lovely Saturday afternoon.

For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them. (Matthew 18:20)

Unholy Swearing

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This blog is going to be difficult to write because of the nature of the beast, but I’ll do my best to be delicate (not one of my better  known traits!)

All swearing is unholy, but some more so than others. Now, before anyone jumps on me as a holier-than-thou, goodie-two-shoes, let me make it clear that I was, at one time, as guilty of this negative habit as anyone. My youngest daughter, Lynn, came through the door one day and heard me swearing my head off at something or other, and said, “Mom! You have a mouth like a truck driver!” (Sorry, truckers, please don’t take it personally.)

It stopped me mid-curse. She’s right, I thought, I have to stop swearing like this. So I set up a “swear jar”, dropping a quarter into it every time I cussed, and it soon became too expensive to swear.

One day when I was upset over something one of my five had done, I stood stock-still, muttering, “Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges,” etc. Dann, my eldest son, said to no one in particular, “What’s she talking about?” Lynn piped up, “Oh, that’s Mom’s Christian swearing”.

Now, it bothers me no end to hear swearing, especially when it involves God and Jesus.

On Monday, a young man left nothing to the imagination when he asked me what offended me the most about swearing, and bluntly brought God and Jesus into the question along with that particular word that is known as “the –bomb”.

Without hesitation, I answered, “The bomb word is far less offensive to me than the first two you used. It makes me want to cry when I hear God and Jesus referred to in that way.”

“Really? What if people don’t know what it means to say those words?”

I told him that not knowing is one thing, but once made aware of how insulting it is to the Father and Son, to continue in that manner goes beyond blasphemy.

He then asked me if I have ever said anything to people who use that kind of language. (I actually did once, but forgot to tell him that). I told him I silently pray for them, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do” which was what Jesus said on the cross. (Luke 23:34)

“Really? That’s interesting.” The young man walked away with a puzzled, yet thoughtful look on his face

If a person feels the need to swear, there are an amazing amount of words to choose from without defaming the deities.

For me, taking God and Jesus out of the swearing equasion is right up there with world peace and a cure for cancer.

As so aptly stated in the The Ten Commandments, number seven to be exact, “You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God…” (Exodus 20:7) NIV

I pray that no one will find this blog offensive. I tried my best to be delicate but as I said in the beginning, it is not one of my better known traits.