Tag Archives: Spirituality

A Family Is…

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A Family is a deeply rooted tree with branches of different strengths all receiving nourishment from an infinite source.

A Family is where character is formed, values are learned, ethics are created, and society is preserved.

A Family is where all members contribute and share, cooperate and work, and accept their responsibilities toward the good of the group.

A Family is where holidays are celebrated with feasting, birthdays acknowledged with gifts, and thoughts of days gone by kept alive with fond remembrances.

A Family is where each can find solace and comfort in grief, pleasure and laughter in joy, and kindness and encouragement in daily living.

A Family is a haven of rest, a sanctuary of peace, and most of all a harbor of love.

I believe most, if not all, of these quotes were written by Manny Feldman.

 

 

 

What Would You Say?

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This will be a series of short posts tying in with everyday life.

A guest Pastor at our church, on Sunday, asked this interesting question. He was relating the story of how blind Bartimaeus received his sight in Mark 10:46.

Rev. Livingstone then asked us this question, “If Jesus asked you ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ (verse 51), what would your answer be?”

A question well worth pondering, would you say?

My immediate answer was, “Please heal my friend of her cancer.”

What would you say?

 

The Bible on Poetry

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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!

 

 

 

 

Rags to Riches

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Tony Bennet’s 1953 hit, “Rags to Riches” has been resounding in my mind all morning, and made me realize that it is not only a pauper to prince, magical, monetary makeover, but a spiritual one as well; not a romantic romance about to make poor old Tony feel like a king.

No, when I thought about the implications of rags to riches, it reminded me of those of us who suffer from spiritual poverty; of not knowing the meaning of real love. I mean REAL love. The kind of love that 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 talks about, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Ah, but it sometimes does. Sometimes our love is not always patient or kind. Sometimes our love does envy and is even rude. Sometimes it is self-seeking and easily angered. And it definitely sometimes keeps records of wrongs. Yes, sometimes love fails.

And that is the poverty part.  We are never so poor as when we withdraw our love from our spiritual bank account and leave it with a next to zero balance. Oh, sure, there’s enough left to cover the love necessities, but the surplus can definitely be withdrawn. So we think. But life doesn’t work that way. If we want to keep our spiritual self healthy, which is necessary to keep the rest of life in balance, then we must replace the love that has been withdrawn. It may be difficult to do. It may take looking within to replace that withdrawal. It may take a radical act of courage to put back what was taken out. But if we want our lives to reflect “Rags to Riches” and not vice versa, then why don’t we go ahead and make a healthy re-deposit of love?

Why don’t we all sing that “Rags to Riches song?

“I know I’d go from rags to riches, if you would only say you care…”

(Apologies to all the “youngsters” out there…I’m reaching way back!)

 

 

 

 

 

Do I Believe in God?

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Today’s blog is another Julia Cameron exercise, on the above title. It is really amazing how much delight I can get from a little exercise in writing. Perhaps it is because writing is my passion, or at least one of my passions. These daily blogs have been a blessing to me, keeping my creative juices flowing, while pushing my boundaries to complete one hundred blogs in as many days. By then my book should be out and maybe the blogs will go on a back burner for awhile…or maybe not. So, here is another of Julia’s inspiring exercises from 2002.

Do I believe in God? (Another exercise from Julia Cameron) Oct. 17/02

I believe in God with all my heart and all my soul and all my mind. If it were not for God my life would be a dismal mess.  God helps me see myself as I really am and so many times I don’t like what I see.  But knowing that He loves me in spite of myself makes me feel somewhat better.  Still, I need to change the things I don’t like about myself.

God has been so wonderful in my life; so many blessings, so many answered prayers.  He is always just a prayer away.  He helps me creatively as well.  I remember the night I prayed in my bed, “Oh God if I really do have a talent within me will you please bring it out?” The next day I wrote “God’s Summer Day” and have been writing ever since.  And I’m told  that what I write is enjoyed by many people.  And I say Thank You God!

 Do I believe in Angels?  Yes, very much so.  They are messengers of God and I have my very own angel code, so to speak.  I have written a story about my angels also.  I would really like to be more in touch with my angels.

Regarding a writing experience that was somewhat uncanny was my experience with Celeste.  To make a long story short a colleague had mentioned that Celeste might be my “angel”.  Anyway, I sat down that evening and said “ok Celeste, if you really are my angel, let’s write something”.

And we wrote “Celeste” and I think it is one of the better pieces I have written.

I am very willing to experiment with the use of synchronicity in my writing.  Perhaps this afternoon I will begin that process.

One topic I would like more information on for my writing is spirituality and how it affects our everyday lives.  I must stay aware for a week to see how this manifests itself in my day to day journals.

This ends the exercise experiences with Julia Cameron. And only God knows what I am going to write about tomorrow! Hmmm maybe Celeste!

 

 

What Do I Need to Know

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Hugging a tree in Whistler BC

Hugging a tree in Whistler BC

“Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are most accessible and wisest of counsellors, and the most patient of teachers.” Charles W. Eliot

Being an avid reader, I read books of many genres, and especially like books about writing. Some of my favorite writing authors are Brenda Ueland, Stephen King, Anne Lamott, Sophy Burnham, Janet Hagberg, Hal Zina Bennett, and Julia Cameron.
In one of her books, Julia Cameron recommended exercises of twenty minute writing on a given topic, one of which was What Do I Need to Know. The instructions, as I remember, were to begin writing on this topic and stop after twenty minutes. Here is what I wrote: Another Exercise from Julia Cameron – Aug. 30, 2002 – 20 minutes

What Do I Need To Know

The grass is crisp beneath my feet as I start my morning walk through the hydro field adjacent to our house. There has not been enough rain, yet tiny blue flowers grow out of the dry soil. Sunflowers hang their heads over a wire fence in rest or death, I’m not sure which. The fence has become their prop, where once they stood free, faces upturned to their namesake.

And I hug a tree. Someone could be watching from a window, but that‘s okay. I need that hug. Picking my way through piles of doggie dirties left by those who refuse to stoop and scoop, I come to the paved path.

The air is sweet this morning, which prompted this walk in the first place. I hug another tree at the other side of my walk and turn around for the return trip.

I see the faded day moon laid back against a perfectly blue, cloudless sky and the morning sun is beckoning the artificial hue from my hair.

I recall a walk from the past; same time of day, over thirty-five years ago. The air was sweet that day, too, but it was the need for a smoke that prompted that walk. Dishes in the sink, kids at school, husband at his daily toil, and I was out of cigarettes.

Mission accomplished, the return walk from the store that day was a beauty. The sun filtered through the trees and the air was still. I felt a sense of awe, gratitude and love. I think it was very spiritual; felt it but didn’t know it.

As I neared the front door of our house, I wished I didn’t have to open the purpose of my walk, that package of cigarettes. But I did. I lit up and got on with my day.

What do I need to know? Spirit was working in me back then, but I didn’t know it. Now I do, and have quit smoking since that time. What do I need to know? I need to know that, indeed, all things are possible, and I must keep on keeping on with my spiritual life.

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

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.

Junk Mail?

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A couple of years ago, I received a venomous letter in the mail.

It was from a person who had been bitter towards me for many, many years.  I hadn’t seen or heard from her for over three years, so I was really taken aback to read this disturbing letter.

She started out by saying, “After several years”, and then launched into her tirade.

The anger and resentment leapt off the pages and kicked me in the gut.

My first reaction was pity for her. I would not want to be living in her body with all that poison.

My second reaction was very un-Christian. I wanted to send her a “Get Well” card and tell her she had better find a good veterinarian because she was one sick puppy.

And then I prayed for her. And then I prayed for myself, that the poison in her soul wouldn’t touch my soul through her nasty thoughts and words.

And then as part of my devotions two days later, I read this in  “In Tune With the Infinite” by Ralph Waldo Trine….if hatred should come from another, without apparent cause on your part, then meet it from first to last with thoughts of love and good will…in this way you can so neutralize its effects that it cannot reach you or harm you.  And I said, Thank You God.

A few weeks earlier I had read  in Matthew 5:11, “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.”

And I thought, Lord, nobody has persecuted me because of you. Maybe I’m not doing a good enough job for you.

The letter, among other things, included this sentence, “You constantly preach the word of God but do not follow his words.”

Finally….I am being persecuted for His sake and I say, Amen to that.