Tag Archives: God

What Would You Think?

Posted on by

Because I have unstable angina, and a very caring physician, on June 24th I wore a heart monitor for twenty-four hours, to detect any abnormalities.

On July 6th I suffered a broken heart. Not a heart attack…a broken heart…almost as painful, but in a different way.

My question is, would the monitor have picked up on what my heart was going through that day had I  been wearing it at that time?

I think, perhaps it would have, because hearts are not meant to be broken, and therefore constitute an abnormality.

What would you think?

P.S. Is my heart still broken? No. Thanks to the Great Physician, Himself.

 

The Bible on Poetry

Posted on by

Happiness is finding something to post at the last minute. Browsing through my poetry file I came across this 2012 poem, and thought it would be nice for a Sunday post.

THE BIBLE ON POETRY

The Bible is a book of books,

Sixty-six in all,

Filled with fascinating facts

To inspire, repel and awe.

“He who is pregnant with evil

And conceives trouble

Gives birth to disillusionment.”*

This Psalm is quite poetic

As is Solomon’s Song of Songs.

Job is a book on patience;

Love fills the Book of John.

Does the Bible wax poetic?

Yes, I’ve really come to know it

That God Himself, the Author,

Is the Master Poet!

*Psalm 7:14

©2012

Enjoy your Sunday, it is the day the Lord has made…rejoice and be glad!

 

 

 

 

Missing the Mark

Posted on by

Today, I want to talk about sin. I’ve always thought of sin as, you know–lying, stealing, cheating, being mean to people, being greedy, etc. You get the picture. But then I heard that sin actually means “missing the mark”. Now, I’ve heard that said, or written about, on a few occasions, but I read it again yesterday, and it hit me between the eyes! It actually sank in!

The writer explained that “missing the mark” actually means not living life as God intended us to live it, which includes all those other things I mentioned, plus even more. That got me to thinking about how we all came to this planet with God’s plan for us implanted like a GPS. But I think He must have forgotten how fallible we humans are, and how we so easily get distracted, and led off the path.

But that’s okay. As long as we find our way back onto it. I remember a faulty GPS taking my daughter, Lynn, and me on a roundabout trip in Wales, instead of the direct route we needed. Because of that little blip, we got to see the rural side of the country, which I had only seen in movies, and I loved it. We finally reconnected with our intended direction, arrived at our destination none the less for wear, and within a reasonable time frame. That is precisely what we are expected to do on our life journey. God didn’t say it would be easy, he said, “Just do it. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Now, I know some people out there are reading this (maybe only becauses it’s me writing it) and saying they didn’t come here through God’s plan, they got here through an ape, or monkey, or gorilla or some other kind of creature that they evolved from. And I got to thinking about that, too.

I’m thinking that it’s great to be here as God’s representative, because I get to think with the brain He gave me. Otherwise I would have inherited the brain of one of those creatures previously mentioned.

And that would be a sin!

 

 

 

My Heart Soars

Posted on by

Today, I’m going to again borrow from my “poetry post” for something to blog about. Yesterday, I had the privilege of picking my two youngest grandsons up from their baseball camp. They are now twelve and ten years old and a delight to be with. The twelve-year-old no longer holds my hand and is taller than I by a few inches, and his dimpled brother still has those remarkable dimples. This is what I wrote when they were three and one.

MY HEART SOARS

My heart soars with the flight of birds,

winging their way to the rising sun,

the sight of its glow on their wings.

My heart soars with the song of the cardinal

gently penetrating the remains of my night’s sleep

and the answering call of his mate.

My heart soars with the rustle of leaves

dancing to the beat of a summer breeze

and the fragrance that fills the air.

My heart soars with the insistent tug

of my little grandson’s hand in mine

and the dimpled smile of his brother.

My heart soars with the promise of a new day

waiting to unfold its miracles,

showing me the miracle that is my life.

©2005

I chose today to rewrite this poem because my heart still soars to all these things. Each new day of life is still a miracle, and God is still in his Heaven. Even if things are not all right in the world, today they are all right in mine.

And People Are Listening

Posted on by

This morning I read a wonderful post by one of my favorite bloggers, Katie. She writes about how a former professional baseball player spoke in church about his relationship with the Lord, and how he could never do the things he does without God’s hand in every part of it; that God get’s all the credit for his talents and gifts.

Katie went on to write that we must never fear people’s reactions to our words of love for the Lord, and we must never shy away from giving glory to God for everything he has blessed us with. She says we are urged to share the Word of God with others. We are compelled to spread His teachings whenever and wherever we can. She says to speak up for the Lord, speak your heart. Those who are willing to truly listen will know you are speaking His truth and will be blessed by your words. Katie tells us that this young man speaks proudly of his great faith and love for the Lord. And people are listening.

Wow! Thank you, Katie.

In my book, My Precious Life, my first thanks goes to God. Without him this book would not exist. Guaranteed!

The feedback from sales of the book is very encouraging and I would like to share, in part, two of the many comments that have come to me.  The first comes from the UK where a gentleman wrote a review on Amazon.co.UK: “I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. Wonderfully uplifting and a ‘makes you feel good’ life story. Thanks for sharing this with us.”

And this came via email just last night: “Dear Patricia, I have just finished reading your wonderful book. I couldn’t put it down!! I admire you for writing it but more than that I was touched, saddened and encouraged by all that your life represents. Your very firm faith shines through each chapter. I know this book will have a positive influence on many readers and will point them to God.”

That last sentence is key. It is why I wrote the book.

“Wonderful book” and “I could not put it down” are the most repeated comments. It makes me smile–and I think God might be smiling too.

As I said in one of my other blogs, “To God be the glory, great things he has done….”

Once again, My Precious Life can be found online at Amazon or ordered at your local book store. People in my little corner of the world can get it directly from me.

Thanks, Katie, I hope you don’t mind my sharing part of your blog today. 🙂 It is just so apropos!

 

 

Who Am I to Cry?

Posted on by

It is so easy to throw a pity party…just invite me, myself, and I, a few bad memories, a couple of hurtful comments, a large box of super soft tissues for the tears and you’re off to the doldrums!

And then some uninvited guests show up. People who actually care about you; who are ready to cry with you, if needed, but more importantly, are there to let you know you’re not alone in sadness.

One such guest showed up this morning, online, and shared with me the story of her cousins who were momentarily about to lose their precious seven-year-old son to cancer. This dear little boy is losing, or has lost, as I write, his battle with that demon disease. I’m crying for this friend and her cousins.

A similar story came my way a couple of years ago, via another friend who witnessed almost the exact same scenario with friends of hers and their seven year old grandson.

A fellow blogger reminded me of the story she posted of her mother succumbing to cancer’s clutches, and the crushing feeling of helplessness she experienced at that time.

And then there was Kristiana, a dear little member of our church, whose face I can see to this day, who also left her family and friends in a state of sadness for her loss, but also a state of happiness for Christ’s gain. She was thirteen and had fought her battle for nine years.

 

And so I’m reminded, although we don’t expect to be hurt by the ones we love, it happens: whether by death-which is out of our hands-or unkind remarks, which are also out of our hands, we are, if we are caring people, going to be hurt. Guaranteed. It goes without saying, if we don’t care we won’t hurt.

As always, God has a way of catching me off-guard and causing me to smile through my tears. It happened at nine o’clock this morning, when the child in me began to sing “Jesus loves me, this I know…” and that’s all I needed to know. Everything else is secondary.

So, who am I to cry? Just another person who bleeds when cut, and thankful for those who come by with bandages.

May God bless all those who stand by with those boxes of tissues. I love you.

 

 

 

Is Anyone Listening?

Posted on by

Yesterday I posted a blog about a friend of mine who is dying of cancer. I described her plight and asked for prayer. Guess what? The blog received 0 comments and 0 likes….with two exceptions; one via email from a friend who said this:

WOW, that was powerful! I found this blog especially
poignant…….You have really missed your calling! I get far more
out of your blogs than going to church and listening to a sometimes
boring sermon. You have really had a positive influence on my life.
So, maybe you should continue on with what you are doing and get the
word out there to people like me. I am serious about this! Keep up
the good work.
Your forever grateful friend….Sandy F.

And this from a friend on Facebook: My prayers were given…God bless her! Gail J.

For them, I will continue blogging.

Other than that….Nothing. Zero. Zilch.

So I’m wondering…what are we doing with all these messages coming our way? Reading them and saying…”Oh, that’s nice” or “What a load of crap!” OR thinking, “that’s not my problem, I have other things to write about.” Is anything getting through to us?

That ZERO day almost caused me to give up on my goal of one hundred blogs in one hundred days. But thank God, Jesus did not give up on me because he was too busy doing other things or thinking of other people, or attending His own agenda. So I won’t give up either.

King Solomon said in Proverbs 1: 5–let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance–

My friend is still dying of cancer, and I am still asking for prayers–please and thank you–is anyone listening?

 

 

 

Advice Well Taken

Posted on by

On July 5th, I posted “Some Good Advice”. It seemed to be a bit of a flop. Always curious as to the “why” of things, I wondered if a different title and some serious editing would change the results; so here is my first reblog….

The first time I was asked to prepare and present a prayer to our congregation a few years ago, my knees knocked, my voice trembled–no–shook, and my mouth was so dry the words seemed to stick to the roof of it.

Once, I was asked to write a poem and read it aloud to over two hundred and fifty people. The thought terrified me, but it was for our Pastor’s tenth anniversary, and rather than disappoint, I pushed through the same fear and symptoms as the first time.

At some point I came across the following advice taken from different sources, and it eased my speaking burden somewhat. It also appeared to put a new slant on my writing; I found words seemed to come much easier. I’d like to share it with others who may sometimes feel the fear of facing an audience with their own written word.

ON SPEAKING/WRITING–

Polish and elegance can sometimes leave an audience quite cold. Experience and sincerity never fail to move them. We can never bring to anyone else an experience which we have not had ourselves.

We must always be willing to learn about ourselves. The last thing that most of us know is ourselves. It takes humility to know oneself.

Ask God for a calm spirit and the right words to say.

Unlock your inner strength; talk of those things that will make people the better for listening to you (R.W. Trine)

God gave you a message to share…don’t keep it to yourself. (Our Daily Bread) (I think!)

The Sovereign Lord has given me an instructed tongue to know the word that sustains the weary. (Isaiah, 50:4)

I am the Lord your God…I have put my words in your mouth…(Isaiah, 51:15,16)

Even as the Lord was preparing you to serve in his church, he was preparing others to be in a position to receive what you have to give them. He has paved the way for your ministry to be effective. In other words, others need what the Holy Spirit prompts you to prepare and give them. (Relying on the Holy Spirit…Charles Stanley, page 90).

Looking back, I can see how all of this advice worked for me in three talks I gave: Not to Worry, The Way I See It, and one about My Precious Life, before it was published.

Was it advice well taken? I think so.

 

 

 

Seventy Times Seven

Posted on by

Today I am going to post a full chapter from my now published book, My Precious Life.  It can be found at Amazon.com, Amazon.Ca, Westbow Press, and many other online book stores. As well, copies will be available through me for residents of Ontario, and some other provinces. And now, Seventy Times Seven:

A Lesson in Forgiveness

The anger I carried inside was making me sick. It felt like a grapefruit-size growth taking up precious space in my body, threatening to annihilate me, and it was directed at my husband. We had recently separated, and it was not amicable. Bill’s verbal abusiveness and alcohol dependence had taken its toll on our twenty-one year marriage.

One day, my sister came to visit. She knew about the separation, but did not know the details. I had shared these with no one. Eyeing me over the rim of her coffee cup, Mary bluntly said, “Patsy, you look very unhappy.” Astute observation, I thought. Suddenly, I was spilling over with words of rage, anger, hate and hurt; all the emotions that made up that grapefruit inside me.

“I hate him so much it’s making me sick,” I told her.

“Have you prayed about it?” Mary asked.

“No,” I admitted, “I haven’t.”

It was food for thought, and I chewed on it for several days before finally crying out to God, “Please help me to stop hating him!” But the feeling was still there. I prayed to be released from the agony of negative emotions my life had become. You need to go to church. It was a pop-up thought out of the blue. I remembered the quaint little church one of our daughters had been married in. It reminded me of a small country church from my childhood.

One Sunday morning found me sitting in a sun-bathed pew, listening to a sermon on a part of The Lord’s Prayer; a prayer I had memorized since my high-school days.

Give us this day our daily bread, was this week’s message. The pastor had been giving a series of sermons on this popular prayer, and I wished I had heard the previous messages. It was comforting being in the hushed sanctuary, hearing the sermon, and listening to hymns and prayers, but when I left, my grapefruit was still with me. The following Sunday, the sermon was on forgiveness.

“Holding hatred and anger towards others can make us sick,” Rev. MacNeill said. “We have to learn to forgive.”

He quoted a scripture in which Jesus told his disciple, Peter, he must forgive, not only seven times, but seventy times seven. I left the church with those words reeling around in my head. My new prayer was, God, please help me to forgive, seventy times seven. It didn’t happen overnight, but gradually the hate began to dissolve, and the grapefruit with it.

I continued going to church, and found solace there week after week. The love I had allowed to be smothered began to resurface, and life became liveable again. One day, Bill phoned to rant and rave about something real, or imagined, as was his custom. I stayed silent until the tirade was over.

“Pat, are you there?” he yelled.

“I am,” I said, “and I love you.”

Where did those words come from? His incredulous, “What?” prompted my next words.

“I love you, Bill, but not in a romantic way. I love you seventy times seven.”

I had found that forgiveness and love went hand in hand.

Thereafter, communication was more reasonable, and in the end we became friends, and remained so until his dying day many years later.

“Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy times seven.” (Matthew 18:21,22)

Imagination Unlimited

Posted on by

Below is another example of where one of my writing books led me.

Undirected freefall (stream of consciousness) August 9, 2002. Revised August 27, 2002 and again June 21, 2006:

I woke up this morning and thought about how all the people in my life had been waiting to meet me. When I peeked out from my mother’s womb and into the future, I saw them, and realized that I had to be born to meet them; my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, foster parents.

Starting school, I met more people waiting to meet me: school chums and their parents, teachers, principals, coaches, my future husband(s). Then came work, and I met more people; bosses, co-workers. When I got married there was a whole new group of people waiting to enter my life; my children, grandchildren, more friends, neighbors, and relatives-in-law.

It was like driving to work one morning and just seeing the road go off into the future, and wondering where it was taking me. I felt the car rise off the road as I sat behind the wheel calmly surveying the scenery below me. Then I was on a highway in the sky, seeing everything at once. (Like the movie, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.)

Was I finally going to see what life was all about? Would I look down and see everything as it should be: my life, my work, my family, my spouse and the things I would like to have done differently? Where did I go wrong in my life? Why did I allow so much bad stuff into my subconscious?

From this distance can I just blot it all out, cause a rain cloud to wash it away, and write a different scenario for my life? What would that be like? What would it be like if I had never heard the words, “money doesn’t grow on trees”, “you’re just like your father” (and he was supposed to be a bad person)…”they just live together…not married”. And what about that home for unwed mothers up the street from my teenage home? I felt sorry for those girls, but also intrigued. Where did their lives take them? Where did their babies go?

I can’t imagine my life without my babies; my own babies and their babies. I love my life. From a higher vantage point it looked pretty good.  I could see where I had lived a lot, learned a lot, cried a lot, laughed a lot, played a lot, worried a lot, and been hurt a lot. But life was good.

At this point, I just want to be there for all the people whose lives touch mine; all those people who were waiting to meet me, and who I went forth to embrace. God bless them, every one!

And now, it’s time to come down to earth.