SelahV Today by hariette petersen

It's One of Those Nights

You know the one--wide awake at midnight.

It's when sleep is just far enough beyond your mind's grasp that it cannot hold onto it.

And so, you think.

Your mind wanders down paths of yesterday, where regrets are hidden in silly memories--where losses crowd your thoughts with sadness. You long for a moment with that person who knew you almost better than you know yourself.

You wish you could hear their voice-- the one that excitedly greeted you, just because it's you at the other end of the phone.

I miss my dad,

my brother,

my son.

Each was always thrilled to hear me call. I can recall conversations with them as clearly as if it were today. None of them was too busy to take my call, nor did they ever wince that it was me on the other end of the line--or let on that I interrupted whatever they were doing. With all my heart, I know this to be true. And I really, really miss them because of that.

Sometimes, in the darkness of the night, I wonder if anyone will miss my calls when I am gone. I'm sure my husband will. But midnight darkness has a funny way of illuminating stark realities, sometimes. Brings to mind a quote I once read:

“When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Think about that a moment. City lights often hide those stars.

Daylight is too bright to notice the light that rests beyond the sun. Often, darker, quiet times reveal what lies hidden from our view.

Daylight is so filled with busyness and noise. We fail to see the value of familiarity amid the crowd of fresh faces in everyday places. Schedules, duties, appointments, and lifestyle demand our attention. We do not stop to contemplate that someone we care about may not be there tomorrow--or that they might enjoy hearing from us today. We're just so busy living life, until...

...until life ends for that someone dear-- then we stop long enough to grieve and wonder what was the last thing we said to them.

The last time daddy talked to me, he sang me a song he made up about loving God.

The last time my brother talked to me, he told me he was afraid to die. Not that he feared for where he was going...he believed he'd be seeing Jesus, our deceased brother and my son. He just didn't know what would happen to his daughter and wife--and he didn't know how painful the cancer would get before God took him home. I remember saying something like, the same God you trust to greet you, will meet the needs of those you leave behind. And I cried.

The last time I spoke to my son, he said, "I love you, momma."

Tomorrow I'll try and talk to my dear loved ones-- in the midst of their living. When I do, I'll savor the moments and store their words within my heart and mind. Will you? ~selahVtoday

 

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Feeling a bit blue? or Just having an old-fashioned Pity Party?

Sometimes I feel blue.  I don't know who first described the blah, disconnected feeling and attached the color "blue" to it, do you? I googled the phrase and it said it dated back to the 1300's.  Wow. 

According to that blurb, it also said that "feeling blue" was synonymous with sadness and being depressed.  I suppose that pretty well nails it.  Though being "blue" to me is not quite as ominous as the abyss of depression.  I can shake the "blues"; depression is a bit harder to lose.  Depression sticks tighter than super-glue. 

The "blues" aren't quite as clingy. In fact, I can often figure out ways to get over them fairly quickly.  Lunch with a friend-- or breakfast-- even sharing a cup of coffee, will send the "blues" packing to happily-ever-after.  So will buying myself a bouquet of fresh daisies.

Just yesterday I was feeling sorry for myself due to so many days being cooped up in my house "resting" my sprained wrist, strained trapezius muscle and suspected Meniscus tear. I truly think the muscle relaxers had relaxed my brain so much that my Serotonin was paralyzed inside my head. 

In hopes of charging my "happy", I took my afternoon coffee out on the back porch and sat in the swing.  I'd only sat for about 3 minutes when I spotted a big fat red cardinal sitting on my fenceline.  He seemed to be staring at me.  A spark of pleasure exploded in my brain and lit a fuse of joy that traveled straight to my heart. I remembered a few devotionals I'd written about seeing cardinals on gloomy days.  I felt it was a sign for me to get the bird-feeders ready for Winter.  Don't you love watching birds?

As I was searching the web regarding "blueness", I came across this fabulous article on 21 Things To Do When You're Feeling Blue.  You might like to check it out.  I know from experience that some of these things have worked for me on "blue" days.

Pity parties are not appropriate when you have "the blues".  At a pity party, you sit around feeling sorry for yourself; who would really want to join in that kind of get-together?  What kind of celebration is that? 

No; the better thing is to find ways to turn your "blue" into sunshine yellow.  Look beyond yourself to someone else.  Encourage someone else.  Compliment someone else.  Pray for someone else. 

Grab a brightly colored marker and list all your blessings:  Friends. Family. Shelter. Food. Faith. Eyesight. Hearing. Then thank God you have what you have.

As I lay in my bed tonight, I thought about something I'd posted on Facebook today.  I'd said I was "behaving myself, resting my knee and was feeling annoyed" at the whole process.  It occurred to me in the wee hours of this a.m. that I was blessed far beyond what many other people in life were. I thought about some friends who were battling cancer, of the precious lives lost this past weekend at the OSU Homecoming parade.  I thought about the refugees pouring into Europe.

And there I sat complaining because I was resting in my recliner, feet propped up with all the time in the world to read a book, watch a movie, take a nap... sip a cup of tea... whatever.  Millions of people are out there working hard, have no way to rest, nor even a chance to sit down. They don't have access to pain pills or muscle relaxers, and maybe not even a computer.  Do you see how very self-absorbing the "blues" can be?  Shame on me. And now I confess:

I must have rested so much during the day that my body and mind doesn't need any sleep. For here I am... at 2:44 a.m., writing my thoughts on the matter.  If you happen across this little post and gain any insight that inspires you to let go of your "blues", then I am blessed for the circumstance in which I find myself and thank God. It had a purpose after all.

Be happy... it's so much better than being blue.

 

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"Even When It Hurts..."

...you keep on keeping on.

By doing so, you please God and fulfill your promises and commitment to Him. He sees when others do not.  He understands when others don't.  He hears when others are deaf to your needs.  He gives grace when others fail you, mock you, ridicule you, accuse you, attack you, or treat you with disdain.

IT WAS FROM THIS MORNING'S SERMON, the question was posed from Psalms 15:
"LORD, who may stay in your tent?
Who may dwell on your holy mountain?"

Amid the other parts of the sermon, the portion that stood out to me was, he "who keeps his word even when it hurts".

No matter what the world dishes out, what people do to us, what circumstances present in our lives... the thing that matters to God, is those of us who promise Him something and keep on working towards fulfilling that promise... "EVEN WHEN IT HURTS".

1LORD, who may stay in your tent?

Who may dwell on your holy mountain?

2The one who lives with integrity,

who does righteous deeds,

and who speaks truth to himself.

3The one who does not slander with his tongue,

who does no evil to his neighbor,

and who does not destroy his friend’s reputation.

4The one who despises those who are utterly wicked,

but who honors the one who fears the LORD,

who keeps his word even when it hurts and does not change,

5who does not loan his money with interest,

and who does not take a bribe against those who are innocent.

The one who does these things will stand firm forever."

[Love biblehub.com.  They are such a help in comparing the versions of Scripture. Use it when you are studying or researching a passage. You're sure to love it, too.]

WHAT WAS I THINKING-- A Horse Tale by hariette petersen

I was driving down Highway 7 (a four-lane highway with a grass divider), on way to town and passed a gorgeous horse outside the boundary of the farmland fence.  It was entirely toooo close to highway where traffic flowed at 70 to 76 miles per hour. 

I made a U-turn as soon as I could, turned around and drove into the drive of Triangle Farms from which I assumed the horse had escaped.  However, their gate was locked and I was gonna have my 13 year-old granddaughter scale it and go tell them about the horse.  But I couldn't do that either.  We saw a big dog which my 10 year-old granddaughter said was a pit bull. A mauling scene flashed before my eyes and I abandoned that idea. So, I sat in the car and tried to figure out how to let the people know about the horse that was inching its way closer and closer to the 4-lane highway.  Finally I decided to just drive up beside it.  That silly horse stood there looking in my side window, and seemed fairly calm.

I got out of the car, and it stared at me a second then crossed in front of my car and started for the road. I waved the oncoming traffic to stop as the horse made its way into the middle of the second lane, where it stopped and decided to relieve itself of its breakfast.  I did my imitation of a "HORSE WHISPERER" and tried to talk her into coming to me or letting me go to her.

Amazingly, she stood still. Cars began to stop in a line.  One driver asked if it was my horse, I said, "No" as I slowly approached her with my outstretched hand.  I clucked and tisked with every step till she let me get her harness.  I walked her back across the road, and prayed to God I wouldn't fall down the embankment as I led her back into the field.  With every step, I'm thinking, "Lord, please don't let this horse step on me."  She didn't and she didn't run ahead of me.  She just let me guide her down the embankment and into the field.  My momma use to say, God protects fools. I qualified.

When I let her loose she turned around and snickered at me.  I said, "nevermind your backtalk... get out there".  She turned and trotted into the field.  There was no way to close off the section of fence that was big enough to drive a car through, and I thought about parking my car across the space.  But when I walked back up the embankment to my car, another car was parked behind mine.

I was going to call the police when the lady in that car said she had already called 911 and I could go if I wanted and she'd stay there and wait for the police.  So, winded as I was, I climbed back in my car... and looked in my mirror at the wind-blown brillo pad of a hairstyle the Oklahoma winds had rearranged for me.  I laughed out loud and told my granddaughters, "I look like a mad-woman."  We drove away with great joy that no cars had been involved in a very bad accident and the horse had been spared.  It wasn't until I was headed down the road that I realized that I'd never led a horse by a halter in my entire 66 years of life.  WHAT WAS I THINKING?

When Bloggers Like Me Are Cautioned About Gossip

should we take it seriously? Other bloggers have to speak for themselves.  As for me???

In a previous article I wrote (here), a commenter, Mike, cautioned me about how "risky" quoting someone can be and how it can lead to "gossip". Actually, he didn't like much of what I had to say, at all.  He even assigned an ulterior motive to the purpose of my article.  Unfortunately for my commenter, that part of his critique proved totally false.  In his critique, he included a quote, which he attributed to me, but was actually written by someone else, from another website-- Erick Erickson. It can happen. When folks read a lot of sites covering the same subject, folks can get confused as to what they read and who said what.  That aside...

I do think personal criticisms need to be taken seriously. One-- because it's prudent.  Two-- because I may need to repent and apologize (which is expedient to be done as quickly as possible--like Mike did when I pointed out his error).  Three-- because I may learn something.  In this case, with Mike, I found his caution unfounded.  Rather than let his critique simmer on the back-end of my article, I'm using it for an example to consider as a guide in discerning the value of a critic's criticism and the validity of what I say.

Firstly, we disagreed on premise. "Gossip", to me, is passing on private information about someone with malicious intent. I had no malicious intent, nor do I think Kirsten had any. One author says this about gossip:

"The Hebrew word translated 'gossip' in the Old Testament is defined as 'one who reveals secrets, one who goes about as a talebearer or scandal-monger.' A gossiper is a person who has privileged information about people and proceeds to reveal that information to those who have no business knowing it." [To read more on gossip, go here/link]

So, did I really gossip about Andy Stanley? did Kirsten Powers? I don't think so, the information I had was not privileged, nor private. It was public knowledge.  Also, Kirsten Powers is a well-respected journalist and popular news analyst. It's  presumptuous to consider she'd attribute a private personal quote to someone that is not hers to reveal or was not freely given--she's a credible writer.  Journalists protect sources--they don't expose them.  She went to Andy in an interview situation to acquire his opinion.  He gave it.  She quoted it to reinforce her position on what she deems homosexual discrimination, albeit others, including I, see as a religious discrimination issue. So, given how many people have written about Andy Stanley's quote to Kirsten, I felt quite safe in re-quoting it after I found it at the source of her own article/here.

Given the ripple of public scrutiny and troubling confusion created, a retraction would be in order if it weren't true. To my knowledge, Andy hasn't requested one, nor has he walked back the statement.

Anyone can say something they wish they hadn't (Mike regrets his mistake with me). I'm a bit snarky at times (I'm working on it).  I don't think I erred when I lamented my mental and soulful weariness regarding Christians who try to live as Jesus would want in all areas of life (as in the case of the Seattle bakers), only to have their concerns tossed aside as irrelevant by a brother-in-Christ with prominent status.

Since the issue went beyond that of the bakers in Seattle to the bill in Kansas, which inadvertently coincided with the Arizona law, we must recognize this as a much larger issue in our country.  Even Eric Metaxas, a minister instrumental in Kirsten's recent conversion to Christianity, disagrees with Kirsten and Andy; he said so on his facebook page when Erick Erickson's rebutted Kirsten's views:

"I'm afraid that in this my dear friend Kirsten Powers and pastor Andy Stanley are mistaken. I believe their hearts are absolutely in the right place, which is perhaps the most important thing, but in their ultimately standing aside so that the Religious Freedom of Kansans and other Americans can be disregarded, they are missing something very important, something crucial, and with great ramifications for all. Let our conversations on this subject be civil and respectful, but let's have them."

So, folks, I make no apologies for writing about a subject I find most "crucial" as Metaxas affirms.  As a blogger and a sister-in-Christ, I saw a need to support fellow Christians and defend their position. 

As Christian bloggers grapple with issues of the day, we must engage with caution, in a spirit of grace, but we must not sit silently on the sidelines while religious liberty is crushed beneath the feet of rulers who usurp the constitution and the conscience of man, either.  

So I wrote about the quandry of it all. It was not gossip.  It's a matter of exhortation, similar to what my commenter tried to do with me in his critique and caution.  We learn, we share with one another...then Christians must pray.  We offer apologies, ask forgiveness wherein we err, and move on.  Most importantly, we must look at Scripture and stand on it, and it alone, to make decisions when we speak, think, or write.  For me it's all about Jesus and I won't leave Him out of my conversations. Without Him, I am nothing. ~hariette petersen @SelahVToday

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When Will Revival Come to America Again?

We're so sick, Lord.

Our country is desperately in need of You.  We are so broken.  We're so far away from You.  We battle battles not worthy of consideration.  We uphold things unworthy of thought, let alone action. We turn our heads at sin and wink at that which appalls You.  We sit silent when we should rise up and shout.  We play with all that's unholy and pretend we're clean... we're protected, after all, by Your blood, Your grace, Your mercy. 

We strain at gnats and swallow camels.  We are like the whitewashed tombs that pretend we care when we do not. We all want front row seats...to be first in line... to be bathed in the blessings of this world and to have our rights upheld in every way--for self-serving gain.  We seek Your favor for a tasteless lifestyle.

We fight for religious freedom to do nothing with it.  Why should You grant us grace to overcome this evil, sinful, immoral culture?  We wallow in sin and expect You to move against the evil policies of this government-- the rulers of darkness.  We water down the gospel of Christ, refuse to get our hands dirty and help the down and out.  We shun the least of Yours and give less of ourselves to those less fortunate, and more of ourselves for our own pleasure, comfort and entertainment.  We're more concerned with our manicures than the widow struggling to pay for insulin.

We shake our heads at those kids with pants hanging down below their knees whose noses, ears, eyebrows and tongues are pierced with studs. We shudder in disgust at scantily clad punk-rock singers and pray our children never look to them as examples even though we bought all their clothes lines when they were rising up as child-stars. We wonder what this world is coming to. Our mirrors could speak volumes if we dared to look.

Yet, we do nothing in and of ourselves.  We complain, we tweet, we argue, we debate.  We point fingers and write essays of angst.  We cannot do this anymore, Lord.  We need You.  We deserve the mess we are in. Our apathy has led us down this path.  Our trust in feckless leaders, our resignation to the status quo. 

Satan's like a prowling lion, traveling this country, invading homes, destroying families, dividing churches.  It is time to clean our houses.  It's time to clear out the trash in our homes, our hearts, and minds.  It's time to refrain from doing business as usual and be unusual in the world. 

We need to resolve to be the best You can make us to be.  To turn away from wickedness, denounce filth and decadence and debauchery. We need to stand with courage and speak of Your holiness, purity and righteousness.

"Jesus went on to say, “To what, then, can I compare the people of this generation? What are they like?  They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to each other:

‘We played the pipe for you,

and you did not dance;

we sang a dirge,

and you did not cry.’

For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and you say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.’ But wisdom is proved right by all her children.” Luke 7:31-35

Jesus came to show the world what was necessary. John the Baptist to sacrifice his all to preach repentance of sin.  The world shunned him and said he had a demon... was not real... his words demented and full of worthless talk.

Do unbelievers do this with God's prophets today?  With those who are living sacrificially and set apart from the lies of the world. Those who live circumspectfully as Christ has called them to live-- holy, set apart, concerned with things of Christ and not things of this world.  Yes, we tell them to hush.  To be still and not rock the boats of political correctness.  We do not want to hear truth-- they are too offensive. We put them in boxes and tell them to shut up-- quiet down.

THEN Jesus came and showed by example how to live among the world, to show the world that we can live in the world among temptations without succumbing to those temptations.  But when He did, He was ridiculed and rebuked and condemned for reaching out to those gluttons, drunkards and sinners.  They played the pipes their way.  They looked at life their way.  They chose to ignore the warnings of John the Baptist, the message of Christ, the acceptance of God.  Then they simply ignored that which could give them life. Real life. Happiness.  True happiness.  Hope.  Real hope. They crucified Him, instead.

Our generation stands on the precipice of life. Our country is teetering on the edge of destruction.  Our churches are playing pipes and singing dirges.  People are not dancing to our happy tune-- our choruses of joy and peace and grace.

Why not?  perhaps it is our countenance at fault.  Do our actions, attitudes and word belie the emptiness of our own hearts, the selfishness of our spirits, the lack of joy in our Lord? the hypocrisy of our attitudes of lust, discouragement, and whining?

Why aren't people crying when we sing our somber song expressing sadness and sorrow for the lostness of this world?  do we sing without tears? without true brokenness of spirit?  Is it because we are more concerned with what we feel about the sin and evil in this world, than we are the sin within our own hearts? Does the world see the hypocrisy of our faith walk?  where we are willing to compromise with the world and give in to culture pressures in order to gain materially?  where we allow society to dictate our walk with God?  can they see our unconcern-- that we are dancing with the devil, rather than mourning the lost in sin?

"Wisdom is proved right by all her children." Where are the children of Wisdom, Lord?  Lord, bring a revival.  Let it begin in me. 

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Where Do You Belong?

I don't know about you, but I know.  As much as I'm rooted to the spot in which I find myself today in Oklahoma, this is not where I belong.

I'm not searching for a new place to live...a more lucrative income potential or better retirement vista.

I'm not unlike any other person.  I bloom where I'm planted.  My life produces its own fruit within the community of folks I come across each week.  We all know we have a particular niche to fill that no one other than us can fill. 

Me?  Well, I'm grandmother to a couple of kiddos who live next door.  And I do mean next door.  They're within 12 feet of me.  A skip and hop across our porch and they're here.  Kinsey popped in yesterday to show me her brand new satchel filled with new crayons, markers and such.  She is so excited that homeschool co-op classes begin next week. My "niche" with Kinsey is as a listener.  I listen to every single little thought that pops into her mind and she knows I will always listen to what she has to say without interruption. Today she popped in search of bottlecaps. Yeah; I save odds and ends of everything.  She's making bowls for her Barbies, and she knows where to come to find crafting stuff.  I like being a supply house for scavenger hunts.

This is part of where I belong.  Part.

Just as my place on this earth has meaning to someone like Kinsey, I find meaning in my role as wife to the dearest, most loyal man who's walked the face of the earth since Christ.  He rises five days a week and heads out for 8 hours of work to supplement our meager annuity and Social Security benefits.  He's my mighty knight. I love to cook him meals he enjoys. While others may never dine upon that fare, I know he relishes every bite of oddities I concoct.  He never complains.  Never. 

Yes, I mean never.  Never--about anything.

So when you live in a life where you're cared for so well, like I am-- with so small an expectation in return, there's little to long for.  I don't dream for myself much anymore.  I enjoy the moments I'm given to listen, to agree, to absorb what others enjoy, endure and how sad it is that life cannot be sweeter for all--as it is for me. 

That's not to say I do not have irritable annoyances. Lands alive, who doesn't?  However, my irritants are miniscule in the scheme of a 10-year-old child being beaten to death by her employer in Pakistan, or a 9-year-old girl being locked and starved in a closet in Massachusetts. Nor do I have to be concerned about being beheaded in Uganda for believing in Jesus. I have it pretty good.

I sit here and read twitter feeds and wonder why we fuss so much about a New Jersey bridge being closed by a silly bunch of political operatives when so many have so much more to battle in life. It's sad.

This life-- it's really sad.

Here...on earth, it's sad. But here on earth is not where we belong-- be it Oklahoma, Pakistan or New Jersey.

Earth is where we are but sojourners till we meet in heaven-- where we really belong. ~~hariette petersen

Beyond 2014 Eve

A friend asked me what I was doing for New Year's.  It's the same thing we do every year.  Nothing much.

When our kids were little, they loved to see if they could stay up til midnight and watch the giant crystal ball drop slowly to the ground in New York City.  Sometimes they made it-- but most times they fell asleep before celebratory kisses and hugs were exchanged. Not sure about tonight.

Normally we watch whatever's on television (with the exception of celebrity parties).  Quivering horn-blowers and red-cheeked folks donned in mittens do nothing but steal the warmth of joy from my cozy living room. Just writing about them now sends shivers down my spine.

We don't rent movies, we don't go to parties, and we never venture out to eat.  We don't play cards or dwell on last year's failings.  We don't even stay up til midnight and watch the clock's hands pass twelve. It's just another day-- albeit a day my hubby gets home earlier (the only reason I celebrate it at all).  We won't write resolutions or cook black-eyed peas with a dime in the pot for New Year's Day.

I can't remember the last time I made it till midnight on New Year's Eve. Maybe tonight will be one.

Today I look beyond tonight.  Today I entertain the idea of 2014. I contemplate the "word" I plan to focus on in January.  I like the idea of picking a word and letting it permeate the recesses of my mind-- meditating upon its power.  Some folks set goals. I have none.  I consider what God wants from me. I think about the world and all its challenges and woes. I think about the people God will inevitably place in my pathway.  I think about the decisions I'll be forced to make.  I think about the possibilities and the opportunities. I ponder the difficulties and irritating moments I've endured this past year-- situations I want to release from my heart and soul, so God can fuse peace in the renewing of my mind.  Ah, 2013 is soon to be over and 2014 beckons me follow with plan and purpose.  Micah 6:8 comes to mind:

"He has shown you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justly,
To love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God?"

So here I am. And so are you. Can we "do justly"?  Will we love "mercy", not only for ourselves... but for others?  Can we "walk humbly"... and recognize God is in control of every second of our lives?  Can we stand for what is right as we watch the world's injustice?  Can we accept mercy when we fail to follow as closely as we should?  Can we extend mercy when we are wronged and thereby humble ourselves before our Maker and give Him glory in every circumstance?  Well, I don't know about you. As for me, 2014 is prime time to try and live in such a way.  Why?  Because it "is good".  selahVtoday by hariette petersen

Are You Thirsty?

Complaining --What is it good for?

Complain.  Complain.  Complain. Lately, it seems that's all I've done with some of my closer friends (and some of them with me).

Sure.  We also shared some good stuff.  I shared how I made it through a bunch of aggravating situations.  I praised God for lots of hurdles I cleared, and trials I endured.  I even bounced up and down like one of those bouncy balls my grandkids get for a quarter in the bubble-gum machines in restaurant lobbies.  I shared lots of good stuff... the mini-miracles.  the hope.  the way I thought God was moving me forward and upward.  HOWEVER...

when I sit back and think about some of the conversations I've had of late, I am ashamed.  I am ashamed that I haven't encouraged more than shared discouragement.  I know when I am caught in a spiral of downward motion.  Sometimes it feels like I'm watching myself from above...like I do when I watch the sink drain and smut go down a garbage disposal.  Only, with me, the smut seems to keep on swirling and gets stuck inside my heart and throat.

Complaining not only ruins everybody else's day, it ruins the complainer's day, too. The more we complain, the more unhappy we get.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/complaining.html#lA0rpkyTOdIIS3e9.99

Complaining not only ruins everybody else's day, it ruins the complainer's day, too. The more we complain, the more unhappy we get.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/complaining.html#lA0rpkyTOdIIS3e9.99

Sometimes we call it "venting".  I grant you, there is a time when we need to vent. It's healthy.  It's therapeutic.  Experts agree:

"In our society, we're supposed to smile and have a nice day and pretend everything's OK even when it's not. That's unreal," says Barbara Held, Ph.D., a professor of psychology at Bowdoin College. She believes that this emphasis on always seeing the bright side can encourage people to mask their unhappiness and swallow their gripes-but that can be toxic. "It's important to learn how to tell friends and family when you're upset-if you don't, you end up alone in your pain. Complaints can be healing".

But habitual venting is addictive.  It eats at your soul and robs your spirit of hope and peace. It's also annoying.  While some folks may be sponges for our ire and angst, even sponges have their limits to capacity before they leak out all over the place.

"Unhealthy complainers bellyache to anyone who crosses their path and don't pick up on people's cues that they've had their fill of negativity. "Chronic complainers get stuck in victim mode, and that irritates the people around them," says Cunningham. Plus, these types love to talk but rarely listen. "They'll take hours of your time telling you their problems--then they reject your help and don't take one piece of advice you give them," says Kowalski.

Bad complainers are annoying at best, depressing at worst. They spread negativity and give griping a bad name."* 

Friends, there's so much more to life than complaining.  There's more to friendship than sharing the downs simply because we're down.  And when we get into a habit of sharing those blues and blahs and yucks and mucks, the mire turns to putrid quicksand.  It is bound to grab hold of us and stick to our spirit and mind. It's bound to weigh us down and keep us looking down rather than looking up. I'm learning who is interested in my joys, my convictions-- those who encourage me when I tell them how I'm trying to move forward. 

"There are times in life when, instead of complaining, you do something about your complaints." Rita Dove

"Chronic complainers" drone on and on; they don't take any advice given to them.  They don't take well to encouragement.  I don't want to be like that. Not long ago I was driving down the road and whining to God about a particular person in my life who I desperately wanted to know my love and accept me for who I was. Then it hit me.  "Lord, how do you put up with it?  I am telling You about one person in my life who is like millions You deal with every day, all the time.  Forgive me."

I have some folks who "vent" and share their burdens with me; I can easily hear their hearts.  I don't have a problem listening to them.  They not only vent, they appreciate encouragement--they covet my prayers.  These are not chronic complainers. Scripture tells us, "Carry one another's burdens; in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." Galatians 6:2.

I want to be the person who not only shares and cares about the burdens and difficulties of others.  I want to make a difference in their lives for Christ.  If all I do is commiserate with them, I'm no help; I'm a hindrance.  I have feet of clay.  I need to bow out of their lives and let God connect them with someone who lifts them up and stirs them on.  When God shows me my folly, I must aim higher.  "I look unto the hills from whence cometh my help.  My help cometh from the LORD."  It's time to point others to the One who makes the difference. "Lord, lift us up."

[ *quotes from WebMd article.]

Broken, Bruised and Bewildered

When our spirits are broken and our emotions bruised, it is easy to become bewildered.

"Is it our fault?  Jesus made it very clear that it is impossible to live in this world and not have the opportunity to become offended.  Yet most believers are shocked, bewildered, and amazed when it happens.  We believe we are the only ones who have been wronged." ~John Bevere

Don't know about you.  But when I find myself licking my wounds over a situation, I invariably question my own part in the scheme of things.  I look forward, backward, and wallow around in the present.  I analyze my feelings before the situation, during it, and the present.  I think long and hard. I search my soul for that wicked way that must be inside me.

I blame myself. 

I do it all the time.  It's me.  I am the worthless one.  I deserve it.  Do you do this?

Perhaps it's because life often blames us for our own troubles.  We make choices.  We decide the course of our lives, don't we?  Not so fast.  Sometimes things are beyond our control.  Aren't they?

Not long ago I found myself in the deepest hole of sadness I'd faced in a long time.  It's like I was carrying a tray of precariously stacked dishes and all of a sudden they toppled and fell to the concrete floor.  I could give you all the nitty gritty details, but it would take forever to explain how each dish, plate, and cup fit on the tray before they exploded all over my world.  Suffice it to say, things pile up.

Pressures.  Trials.  Troubles.  Issues.

When our lives are stacked with too many things, when we assume one more thing will fit on the tray, we are bound to lose something, if not everything, we have stacked without greater thought and consideration.

What causes the first cup to fall?  sometimes it's a word spoken too quickly.  Maybe we get too comfortable with someone and we say something in a clumsy way because we are in a hurry, tired, emotionally exhausted, and are....well, just clumsy. Other times it is the spoon someone else adds to life's tray that starts the free-fall.  So the first cup teeters and we try to right the tray to still its movement and then... uh oh... the entire tray wobbles and begins to pitch.  We stand there looking at the mess and wonder.  Did I say something wrong?  What did I say that created such disaster?  What did I do?  should I have walked slower?  left off that last cup?

"I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood."~Audre Lorde

That's a nice quote-- in theory.  However, what is most important to me may be the least important thing to another.  No matter how tired I am, or how mindless I've become, I must weigh my thoughts in light of anothers.  If...

if I want to keep the tray of life balanced.

if I want to keep from shattering all the peace and tranquility I enjoy.

if I do not want a broken relationship, a broken heart and a bruised soul.

I must remember:  It's not about me.  I tend to forget that-- no matter how hard I try to show compassion, mercy and tolerance... the big "I" has a way of sneaking back into my life. 

Ever wonder how long it takes to die to self?  To decrease so He increases?  I do.

Related articles

Faith and Works--where Conflict Rests

What Every Woman Needs and Deserves

Dancing With Bruises

The unexpressed life (is not worth living)

THE FIRST GREETING OF THE DAY

CAN SET THE STAGE FOR EVERY MOMENT TO FOLLOW.

The first greeting of your day can often set the atmosphere for the remaining 18 or so hours till you rest your head upon your pillow at night.

Wouldn't it be lovely to wake each morning to a room full of roses and pure delight?  to hear the sweet melody of your favorite song in the background?  rather than a blaring alarm clock?  to have someone deliver a bowl of sweet luscious strawberries and blueberries to begin your breakfast?  to have a back massage following your shower?  ah... sweet bliss.

Some people are not morning people. And what I described would not interest them in the least.  Others, like me, wake with fog-brain.  When I awake with fog-brain, it takes immense effort for me to part the mist of mush within my mind.  Coffee does not do that for me...anymore.  I drink decaf.  Glazed donuts do not do it either--sugar rushes are a thing of my past.  The thing that opens my eyes and starts my day like the first push of a domino in a line of multiple events, is a Word from God. And the quickest way to receive that Word is to wake with childlike wonder and say, "Good morning, LORD, what shall we do today?"

Peter Lord, in his book, Hearing God, writes that:

"The Lord does not force you into goodness or anything else, but He can and does work through every possible means to get your attention.  He calls.  He woos. He makes Himself known to you.  He knocks on the door and comes in with your permission when you open it."

Therefore, if we rise each morning with an attitude that immediately lifts the blinds of our minds, throws open the windows of our soul and praises God from Whom new mercies are found at the rising of each sun, the doorway to God's complete presence is there to greet us with assurance and confidence.

I find myself so much better off if I take a moment and dwell on God's goodness and mercy and thank Him for another day of life, another day to praise Him-- and then watch my day unfold as He would have it unfold for me. Praise is a catalyst.  It is the fuel in a heart which seeks God's presence.  And yes, I mean presence.  Not some faraway mystical out-of-body experience.  When we talk with our family or friends we do not need to be catapulted to the moon to connect with them.  However, when we take a moment to tell another how much they mean to us, it makes their day.  It opens the portal of communication.  If it didn't, we wouldn't be so affected by a smile, or conversely, a scowling frown and grumpy attitude.  It's the same with our relationship with God.

When I choose to begin my day with thoughts of me, me, me--and all my sorrows and pain and struggles of yesterday, or my upcoming challenges, I leave God out. Then the day begins with a succession of trials and obstacles--emptied of optimism.

I don't know about you, my friends.  But I need God.  I need His strength to meet my weakness.  I need His competence to meet my incompetence.  I need His joy to meet my sorrows.  He and He alone can fill the void of my day.  He is my only hope in the hopelessness that life offers at times.  And often God meets me with a specific reminder from His Word, "The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me..." Psalms 138:8; "Fear not, for I am with thee..." "...lean not to thine own understanding...".  Other times He gives me a friend who writes a word of encouragement--often meant for others in the facebook of social media--yet, there all the same for me, too.  Sometimes it is a song...that comes in a sweet melodious whisper to my soul.

Life is a beautiful opportunity to show the world that God is love and the instrument of renewal.  Nothing that occurs today is routine.  We can have routines.  But God fits new things, new people, new circumstances into our day-- every day.  We merely need to open our eyes and hearts to them and to Him.

"One of the surest ways to recognize God's voice is the effect the words produce in you.  The results of hearing God's voice center around increased faith and gratitude."~~Peter Lord, Hearing God

Are you grateful today?  Are you thrilled to be a part of God's plan and purpose?  Are you?  Or are you listening to the morning news, reading the latest catastrophe, and questioning His watchcare? Are you blocking out His voice and failing to see His goodness? Is your Gethsemane as difficult as His?  Are you waiting in the garden with Jesus?  Are you watching and praying? Won't you walk with Him today?

I Come to the Garden Alone

I was only thirteen when I walked into the ballroom and stared at the breathtaking sight.  Giant columns dotted the room and held the massive ceiling in place.  Beautifully decorated tables filled the room.  I'd never seen even one table decorated with flowers and candles; this room had to have 100 or more.  Ladies were all dressed up; there were over 600 people there.  I almost turned around and ran.  I was scared to death.

I had no idea when my 4-H leader asked me to sing a song for her ladies club that her club had so many women.  I suddenly realized why she'd worked for weeks getting me ready, teaching me how to hold notes and sing with more volume as she played the piano in her living room.  Until I walked into that ballroom, I'd felt pretty confident. I literally wanted to cry.  I had no idea what I was getting myself into.  Mrs. Keys hoped I would get a scholarship by singing in front of ladies in her lodge.  I didn't.  I was disappointed that she was disappointed.  However, there is an up side to this; I never forgot the song:

"I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses...".

I suppose the most wonderful part of learning a song, and failing to please my 4-H leader, is the difference it made in my life 38 years later. In our last pastorate, a dear elderly lady, Mrs. P, was devastated when her husband suddenly died of a massive stroke.  Our music director usually arranged to sing for the funerals, but when we went by to see the widow, she tearfully asked if I would sing a song.  I immediately said "yes", even though I had never sang a solo at a funeral.  I asked if she had a particular song she wanted me to sing, and she said she'd leave that up to me; she was so grief-stricken she couldn't think. 

As a minister's wife I've sang "In The Garden" many times in church.  But I've never sang it solo; I'm usually in a choir or a congregation. On the day of the funeral, I could barely breathe as I began singing. Mrs. P sat right in front of me and looked into my face through tears of sorrow.  I wanted to break down crying--just like many years before. Instead of crying with her, the Lord pressed upon me to smile as I sang. Her face slowly filled with a peace that I can only describe as passing all understanding. Her tears stopped falling down her cheeks.  Pure contentment radiated from her eyes.  I wanted to stop singing and go hug her, but managed to finish without dissolving into an emotional puddle.

Days after the funeral, my husband and I went to visit her and she took my hands in hers, and kept telling me how wonderful my song was and how much she appreciated it.  Then she asked me how I knew it was her husband's favorite song. I didn't know.  But God did. Amazing how God works, isn't it?  I can't begin to count how many times I've sung that song through the years, but I can count the one time it felt like I was truly in the garden with my Savior.  selahV

Source: gypsypurplehome.tumblr.com via Pat on Pinterest

What I Want to Do

I don't.  What I should do, I won't.  What others say to do, I can't.  So betwixt and between, I sit.  Wondering.  Should I or shan't I?  Will I or won't I?  Could I or can't I?  Yet, Paul says:

"To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some.  1 Corinthians 9:22

"Become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some."

Is it doable?  Is it practical?  Is it worth it?  All?  Everything?  The whole ball of wax?  Reputation?  Position?  Popularity?  Reward?  Integrity?

Where is the compromise?  Is there any?  Should there be? selahV

Cries At the Cross and Thoughts to Ponder

No other could know the agony as well, nor experience the pain of loss as much as Mary, the mother of Jesus, on the day we call Good Friday.  Long before she gave birth to the Holy Child in Bethlehem, Mary pondered the monumental change growing within her womb.  More than the physical changes...more than the cultural challenges, Mary pondered that she, a lowly Hebrew virgin, would conceive the long-awaited Messiah...the Savior of Israel.  Her first child.  An awesome responsibility for any woman to have a child, but Emanuel?  God with us?

I can't imagine all the thoughts Mary carried throughout her lifetime of her first-born son.  I relate only to those I hold inside my heart and mind for my own son.  Though my first I only saw through a plate glass window 15 hours before he died, I was gifted with my second son for 33 years.  The same age as Jesus when He gave his life on the Friday, we call "Good" in remembrance of the crucifixion.

Needful to say, Mary probably did not feel so "good" that day as she followed her son about to be accused, tried, beaten, mocked, spat upon, nailed to a wooden cross with spikes that tore into his flesh.  As horrific as it seems to me the death I am told claimed my son as his head was crushed, beyond recognition when he met boulders on a bank when the driver of an ATV rolled the 4-Wheeler over and instantly killed my son, it is nothing compared to that which the mother of our Savior experienced as she watched in vigil at the foot of the cross as Jesus drew his last breath and said "It is finished".

What went through her mind?  How unfair did it seem to Mary?  How many memories of joy and laughter and hugs did she recall?  How many tears did she shed?  Did she kneel there in fear for herself by being the mother of the Man from Galilee? How did she feel as she watched all the things she may have expected to occur be destroyed that dark and lonely day on Golgatha's hill?  What did she think would happen? Had she been forewarned?  Could she have fathomed the heartache she would have to endure because her son would have to die that she could live forever with him?  I do not know.

But as I contemplate this day, I know I will some day.  I will know why my son lived only 33 years...before God took him to live with Him for eternity.  I will know, as Mary, why we mothers were left behind.  And it will be a good day.  The best day among all.  And I know then and there, I will have no more sorrow, no more pain, and no more emptiness for the void left behind when my son left me to join Mary's son.  selahV

HOW DO WE KNOW GOD LOVES US, OR...

...THAT WE LOVE HIM?

Among other things...we "pursue righteousness".

When I think of righteousness, I think of Jesus.  I think of His complete allegiance to God and Scripture--the words He used to overcome temptation in the wilderness..."it is written".

I think of how pure Jesus thought, how focused He was on His Father's will, how obedient He was to His Father's purpose and plan.  I consider how he rebuked those who lived in hypocrisy--like "white-washed tombs"--those preaching and teaching one thing, yet doing another.  I see His kindness to the children, His gentleness towards Mary, His compassion with the woman who touched His robe, and His forgiveness for the adulterous woman, His concern for Zaccheus, His love for Peter in light of betrayal.  I think of devotion to prayer and communion with His Father early in the morning, before a day intrudes upon His life and demands its way with Him.  I think of His boldness to speak the truth.  These are the righteous things of God.  And for those who pursue these things, God loves.

"The way of the wicked is an abomination, extremely disgusting and shamefully vile to the Lord, but He loves him who pursues righteousness [spiritual and moral rectitude in every area and relation]." Proverbs 15:9 Amplified.  Emphasis mine.

"[spiritual and moral rectitude in every area and relation]"

That covers a broad territory of things, don't you think?  It is a short, but profound, definition of the kind of "righteousness" required as noble for pursuit, isn't it?  Each Believer is under the grace of God, and is made righteous in His sight and set apart for His glory.  Yet, is it each Believer's desire to pursue the righteousness of our Lord's example?  Or is it our desire to be one action better than the next person in the pulpit or pew?  Or to admonish another for some perceived flaw and failure?

Do we even care about the pursuit of righteousness for ourselves, or are we too busy to notice the log in our own eye for our preoccupation with the specks in a brother's or sister's eyes?

Yes, I know none of us are righteous...not one.  Our righteousness is in Christ alone.  And in my pursuit of righteousness, I often find myself very far afield of all Christ is.  It is in those moments when I see my full-blown inadequacy to be all He is, that I see how very much He loves me--to have given His life to make me righteous and make me an heir of His kingdom.  What a loving God we serve!  What an amazing Savior!  selahV

Revisiting WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS...

I return to my roots and...

I SURRENDER...

My inabilities.

My expectations.

My weaknesses.

My capabilities.  My failures and my needs.

I surrender all of me.  All to Jesus.

I take all my talents which He has so richly given to me and lay them at His feet.  I yield all my gifts to His divine control.  I abandon my preconceived ideas of what He expected of me when I fail to see results.

I wave the white flag and give Him all that I am--the dregs of my endeavors.

He takes my dregs and casts them into His heavenly compost heap and adds some heat to the dung of my offerings.  In time, He takes a seed of His own choosing from that dung and helps me put to death my own desires to sprout and bloom with dreams of becoming a rose without a thorn.  With His own breath my death gives way to life and in the paths of others who demand I bloom as they desire, I burst forth as a thistle in the wind.  Attached upon my stem a banner waves of all He seeks of me and all I can become in the meadow of His choice and design.  A white flag--shaded blue--in honor of His royal purpose for me, I give to thee this day, my readers.   selahV

This post is slightly edited today and dedicated in honor of all who seek to know my Lord through the words I write, in my hope of bringing glory to His name.  It is my prayer that eyes which see this rendering will know the heart of my words and the hope I see in Jesus Christ my Lord.

[For further posts of which I find most joy in writing and purpose in publishing go HERE@DailyImpact, and HERE@DevotionalChristian...and HERE@Kids'Matters]  [first written and copyrighted, on February 1, 2008 by selahV Today]

I AM...

i am lowly and meek because i want to be;

i am mild and at peace because i'm conditioned to be;

i am brave and courageous because God tells me to be.

i am saved and sure because He died for me.

i am satisfied now, because life happens to be

                           totally fixed on eternity.

i am set apart as Christ sanctifies me;

i am chosen in HIM to live righteously.

i am grateful He keeps me consistently;

i am blessed to rest in Him peacefully.

i am happy to know He abides in me.

i am less than another who yearns to be

                    totally free of hypocrisy.

i am full of the faith God gave to me

        to hope in tomorrow's destiny.

i am granted peace that assuredly

        each morning brings more of His mercies for me.

i am all i am because God created in me

        a love for the cross that has set me free

        to worship the King, His Majesty.

"I AM", so you don't have to be...

whoever the world says you need to be." selahV

Who do you say i am?  Who are you?

[Who you are and who "I AM"/link]

Some Folks...Can't Be Friends

Some folks are friends, some are not.  Some are better friends than others.  Some folks are better off not pretending to be friends.  Friendship is so much more than facebooking, texting, and internet socialization.  I have some true true friends in life and I cannot begin to thank God enough for them.  They are the kind who will drop everything for you when you need them.  They'll sacrifice their time, and put their lives on hold, just to fly across the country and help you when you lose a loved one.  Friends who live near you will meet you for lunch a couple of times a week to listen to you share the grief in your heart--the questions in your mind.  They'll pray with you and for you.

You probably have friends like this, too.

Some friends truly care what we think about various things in life, and how we are when they ask.  I realize life has a way of revolving around our own thoughts and personal struggles, needs, joy and pain.  I try very hard to be that kind of friend for others.  I really want to be for them what they need.  I want to be this for them because I have so much myself.  God has truly blessed me.

I have one friend on the internet, whose blog I always read.  Even though I do not always understand where he is going with his posts, I do know from whence he came.  I know how much he cares about life and his relationship with our Lord. I know he endeavors to follow Him with every thing he does.  It's a blessing each time I pick up the phone and talk to him.  Or get an email from him wherein we banter about goofy stuff, or opine about serious stuff.  We do not talk every day.  We talk a few times a year.  But when we talk, it's like we were when we shared many a cup of coffee and bowl of popcorn over thirty years ago. True friendship never dies, even when geography separates and time prohibits interaction.

I have other friends who take time to be with me in a one-on-one visit and that is also a major blessing.  Of late, those times have been very few and far between.  Lousy health has kept me from socializing much.  I think I'm getting out of sync with the world.  I occasionally wonder if I've lost the ability to connect.

Ever have one of those odd conversations wherein you answer the proverbial "How-was-your-day?" question with a lot of stuff and someone picks out the most mundane thing of what you say and ignores all the rest?  Here's an exaggerated example: "How are you today?"

"Well, today has been rather tumultuous...I found out I had cancer, my dog died, I painted a picture for my living-room wall, and always chew gum when I paint.  I wish I had some chewing gum, forgot to buy some."

The friend writes back, "I bought five packs of gum when I went shopping today, I like Dentyne."

And that is the jist of the conversation.  It's weird.  You close your eyes and think..."gum?"...that's what they picked up in the reply to talk about?  Hmmmn.

What does one do when a person seems that disinterested in a conversation they begin?  Are we so consumed with ourself, that we fail to focus on the thoughts and the needs of others?  Or is it us at all?  Could we be too sensitive?  touchy to a fault?

It begs an answer, though...

When folks ask how we are, do they really want to know?  Does anyone actually want to know how we are?  I understand the insincerity of that question in the passing one another in the check-out line.  The clerk really doesn't want to know how I am.  And they do not really care whether I "found everything I was looking for" that day when I shopped.  It's just a question they are trained to ask.  I wonder if we've so conditioned ourselves in the way things are in the world that we only care when it is convenient to care.  When our minds are free of our own concerns.

Lord, I pray I am able to be more like Jesus.  To see through the chatter of a woman at the well--or laundry mat.  To feel the touch of needy fingers at the hem of my robe--or elbow, when they seek a moment of recognition.  To notice a person above me in the trees, while others clamor for my attention.  I want to see like Jesus.  I want Him to help me see, feel, touch and know...so none go through life as lonely as I once did.  How about you? selahV

WHAT I WANT, by hariette petersen

I want to know Jesus.

More. 

I don't mean I want to know about Jesus either.  I can read His words, His actions, His deeds, His history--birth, mission, death, and resurrection.  I want to know Him--fully and completely.  I want to be swallowed up by Him.

I want to be so intimate with Him that my every suffering is but a glory to enjoy with Him.  I want to be so close that when I sneeze I hear Him say, "Bless you".

I want to be so at one with Him that I see others with His eyes and from His viewpoint and perspective.  I want to have less answers for the world and more questions for my Savior.  I want to spend all my time at His feet, resting in His love.  I want to fall asleep with Him on my mind, and waken with Him on my mind.  I want to hear His voice the first thing each morning and the last thing at night.  When I look at a rose, I want to praise Him for its beauty.

I want to walk through my daily routine with Him by my side, following in His way ever-lasting... never wavering, always trusting.  Never balking.  Always hoping and waiting expectantly to hear His voice behind my right ear. 

I want to drink of His living water, and feed on His bread of Life.  His peace is my peace, His comfort my comfort.  His love is my love, His goodness my goodness.  His righteousness is my righteousness, His hope is my hope.   

Don't you want what I want, too? selahV

I Cannot Control It

The world is a big fat mess.  We allow the media to tell us who is the best person to lead us.  We allow society to direct our culture and redirect our values and principles.  We allow government to control our thoughts, our words, our spiritual lives.  It's ridiculous.  Especially for Christians.  We live in liberty, under grace given to us by the sacrificial, submission of Christ to the cross of redemption for our very lives.  We have everything we need to live an abundant life:

filled with peace,

consumed with love,

permeated with goodness,

saturated with hope,

assured of mercy.  Everything.  

Yet, we cower.  We get all antsy and look to elections for hope instead of a Sovereign God.  We place our faith in our choices rather than the God who allows those choices.  We trust in pundits and reporters to stand as watchmen over our lives rather than being the watchman over the souls of men.  I cannot control the "voices" that rattle on, day after day, nor those minds bent on force-feeding the world negativity, evil, and deceit to achieve an end that justifies their means.  However...

I can control:

what I allow to pierce my heart with discouragement.

what I allow my ears to hear.

what I allow my eyes to devour.

Yes...I can control my time and where I spend it.  I choose to look to the Triune God to direct my life by the inerrant Word He gave us.  I choose to rely upon the Holy Spirit to keep in line with God's will and purpose for my life.  I choose to rest in the promises of my Redeemer, Savior, and Lord to give me hope.  I choose to resist the temptation to dwell on the mantra of gloom and doom and set my mind and heart on the blessings of God and the history of success through the Victor of the world.  No longer is my life directed by laws written on stone.  My life is directed by the Word dwelling within my heart and soul.

If only we Christians would each let God's Word dominate our lives rather than society's foolishness, we'd really be better off.  No, I cannot control the world, I can only control how I respond to the world.  And through the Holy Spirit I've been given fruit of self-control.  That encompasses what I hear, how I react, what I do.  I will not shudder, nor will I quake as the world gets messier and messier.  The Word of God told us this is the way the world would go.  The world would be a pathetic mess.  People would be stubborn and not heed His Word-- would fall-away from faith they'd been taught.  Children would rise up against parents.  Decadence and debauchery would rule the hearts of man.  Faithful doers would lose their First Love. Yes, the world is a mess.  But folks, we have more than the world.  We have everything we need to live a Christ-filled, Spirit-fueled life in God.

"His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and goodness. 2 Peter 1:3

God is in control.  No one else.  I can trust Him over everything, with everything, and in everything.  Can you?  Will you?  selahV

All That Is Necessary

I am downsizing and finding that 80 to 90 percent or what I have is not necessary.  Clothes, shoes, cooking utensils, linens, books, decorative items, furniture.  So much is unnecessary. What a yardsale I'm going to have!

I was thinking about how that applies to blogging.  How much of our yada yada is necessary?  How much of what we write is needed?  I looked in my mirror and wondered.  In the scheme of things, just how necessary is my blog?  Other than me...who does it benefit?  Thousands and thousands of people write blogs.  Millions actually.  Thousands upon thousands write Christian blogs.  How necessary is my voice in it all?  How needed am I in the mix of conversations?

I don't know.  I really don't.  Sometimes I read another blogger's post and think, what good is this to me?  What does it benefit me?  Do I really need this in my life? I read my own stuff and wonder the same thing.  If I disappeared from the Land of Blog, I doubt that anyone would notice or send out a search party for my words of wit and wisdom.  I tried this idea out on a blog I use to contribute to...not a soul has missed my voice.  None.  Wasted time.  Wasted thoughts.  Wasted emotions.  

Life is getting shorter and shorter.  Weeks seem to fly by.  I take a breath and a year is over.  All that matters is what is eternal...where rust, nor moth, nor decay can destroy.  So, what really matters?  What is necessary in my life?  What is not?  What can I eliminate from my life that will afford me more room, more energy, more time for what is eternal?

I think my computer is necessary, especially in this day and age.  I love to read Scripture because I can enlarge it for my fading eyesight...I know that is going with me on my move to smaller quarters.  But I certainly don't need checkbook registers from ten years ago.  250 different channels on television are not necessary, either.  There's something to be said for foxes that have lairs, yet our Savior not having a place to lay His head.

I think less is more necessary than more.  And the more I think about it, the less I find necessary to live as He did.  A heart full of love, a mind willed to obey, a soul at peace, and a body to house His Holy Spirit.  Yes...I think that's about all that's necessary.  What do you think?  selahV 

It Is Worth the Leap

Seriously!

What is our problem?

We have every reason to shout!

We have it all!

Love, peace, hope, joy, goodness, grace, salvation, forgiveness, righteousness, eternal life.

What else do we need?

Yet, all too often we sit silent in the face of praise.  We yawn when worship runs longer than an hour.  We nod off when the preacher begins to share God's Word.  We walk about in the world like we are dead rather than alive in Christ.  What in the world is wrong with us?  Do we buy into Satan's lies?

Perhaps.

But I think there's a simple reason we are so complacent and filled with apathy.  Our focus is on us.  Ourselves.  We worry about the economy. We fret over what name we are affiliated with.  We listen to strife and divisions.  We battle the flesh and ignore the real enemy:  "the prince of this world".  The powers of evil and darkness in realms beyond our sight.  We swat gnats and swallow camels then choke to death on our own efforts and words.

We stare at the temporary lives we have and covet the life we don't have.  We dwell on the things we find uncomfortable and strive for what makes us "feel" good.  We war with our own rather than stand guard over the walls we've conquered together.  We battle with those in our midst and give our enemies weapons to destroy us.

We, my friends, are our own worst enemy, to whom we are daily-devoted.

We wallow in past mistakes.  We won't let go of yesterday's failures.  We stare in awe at the giants in our lives and think we are small, alone, without help. We sit on the edge of the Red Sea and camp out while waiting for the Egyptian pharoah and his soldiers to destroy us.  Rather than remember what God has accomplished for those called by His name, we fall down in fear.

We all need to go back to the altar of God and stay awhile.  We need to sit by the calm waters which swallowed our enemies and give thanks.  Thanks that we are not alone in our struggles. Thanks that we have a Savior who has overcome the world.  Thanks that we have another day to honor His name in all we do and say--with family, friends, and strangers.

We need to bow in humble adoration to our God, our strength, our Redeemer.  Then we need to get up and kick our behinds as we leap for joy and sing praises to the Most High God.  selahV

"The Lord is my strength and my shield, my heart trusts in Him and I am helped.

My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to Him in song." Psalm 28:7

Another devotional:  Are you LEAPING to Conclusions?

There's More to ME than SelahV TODAY

Yeah...that's right.  I find the more I write on SelahV Today, the more folks see me as that writer/person, blogger.  Some of you know I write devotionals, but few realize my interests are far-reaching.  When I started blogging in 2006, I had a dream to make a website that allowed me freedom to publish the stuff I like to write about I even hoped to one day have like-minded, joy-brimming, honey-coated, creative-soulmates contribute to my site (that's coming).

For me, one blog was rather limiting.  When God gives you an over-active creative brain, you simply can't put it all in one shoebox --(at one time I had 12 blogs...crazy).  The problem back in 2006 was the feed-features weren't available to me without enormous costs and a degree in html and website design.  Today...thanks to Typepad's user-friendly hosting, I am able to do tons of stuff I only hoped a webmaster could do. Sooooo...

Integrating my blogs together with rolling feeds in my sidebars seemed like a great solution.  That way you can see a pinch of most everything I write at various spots.  This is a work in progress.  I've been spending a great deal of time creating, organizing, and designing my dreams.  Amazingly...

since I began my quest to integrate my blogs in this fashion, my Google Analytics say my visits are up nearly 60%; and folks are staying 48% longer.  This means I am doing something that helps my readers.  And this is my goal at SelahV Today:

To bring uplifting, edifying encouragement, information, and devotional thoughts.  At times I am a bit opinionated when a subject riles me, impassions me, or disturbs me-- (I admit, on occasion, I have to repent and lean on God's new mercies each morning--good thing He's not finished with me).  But even with those times, I hope to reign in my ego and point us all back to the ultimate help we have as Christians...the LORD Jesus Christ.

I am particularly interested in expanding my Kids' Matters and Feminine Matters sliver of SelahV Today.  Would like to link up with more of those kind of blogs so we could connect others to the unbelievable creative gifts throughout the internet.  I go some places and it's simply bleh.  I go to others and think, WOW...I like this idea, technique, useful gardening craft, or artistic business.  So, it's my hope that you'll catch the drift of where I'm headed.  I'm excited about what God will do with me next as I use the gifts He has given me for His kingdom. 

I hope you'll take a bit of time and peruse the various parts of this site to see Daily Impact, Feminine Matters, Food Matters, Kids' Matters, and my weekly newspaper column (republished) at Common Matters. You'll see little picture/button/icons and below each are portions of my other blogs with links (will add more each week).  I'm hoping you know someone somewhere who'll like something I have to offer.  I yearn to be that virtuous woman.  I plan on working more and more on this as time goes on. 

"Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates." Proverbs 31:31

Let me know what you think.  Oh...and also, send my your links with cool posts you find while internet surfing.  Especially if they involve kids adventures, and interesting innovative women.     selahV and "ME"

At The Risk of Annoying R.C. SPROUL FANS

...I find some of what he says worth repeating.

In his book, Pleasing God, Sproul bases some thoughts on Romans 12:2:

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect."

He writes:  "I learned very early not to trust the cheers of the crowd.  But I never learned to disdain them.  They remain a seductive force in my life.  I still struggle to please men.  I still struggle with the mystique of popularity.  I still hate to be booed.

To be 'conformed' to this world is to be with (Latin con) the forms or structures of this world.  It means doing the popular thing.  The conflict is this:  What is popular with men is not always popular with God.  To be pleasing to God is not always to be pleasing to men.  Sometimes we must choose whom we will please.  That is a daily struggle in the Christian life." (page 61)

Peer pressure can invade the minds of preachers as well as pew-sitters.  No one is exempt from temptation to seek the praise of man.  We seek approval and get all flustered, anxious, and impatient with ourselves when we are not complimented, praised, and validated.  We can get so caught up in what others think of us, that we get depressed when we don't receive positive feedback, are criticized or rejected.  On the otherhand, we can get all puffed up and filled with pride when we receive accolades and roses.

Friends, either reaction is of the flesh.  Our flesh, which was crucified with Christ on the cross, can lead us into unrighteousness, evil, unholiness, and sin.  Our desire to be liked by man should never supercede our desire to love God, to obey God, to grow in the image of His Son.  As Sproul says, "Sometimes we must choose whom we will please.  That is a daily struggle in the Christian life."

I contend that

NOTORIETY Breeds Jealousy

Notoriety enters a room and swallows the applause of adoring masses.  It rarely notices its reflection of pride in the mirror hanging on the wall.  Nor does it see the faces of jealousy in the crowds behind it.  It gets so caught up in the praise of man, it confuses it with selfworth and personal value.  When the applause dies down, when the lights dim, when adoring fans walk away, or get distracted by another, notoriety may find itself looking into a mirror reflecting back shadows of distorted importance.

I was reading a post a few days back.  Evidently, the author had popularity and notoriety on his mind.  He couldn't sleep so out of curiosity he decided to go check the statistics on Technorati of various blogs in blogland.  He wondered why Technorati rated one blog above another and how they came to their conclusions. He listed a group of folks he thought germane to his post and gave their ratings with Technorati.  When I saw my name grouped with another I had to chuckle.  I can't remember the numbers offhand.  It's been a few days since I read it.

I know a little bit about Technorati's ratings and how it all comes together.  I checked into it when I started my blog in 2006.  Didn't really understand it all then.  Know a lot more about it today.  For me, the only reason it is of value is if one wants to develop a strong powerful voice in their respective focus group of readers, or because they want to make money from their blog.  Technorati can give you an analysis of how you are rank with a competitor based on their standards of block popularity monitoring.  Checking on your stats is interesting on occasion--competition is fun.  But in the end, I think comparing oneself to others breeds a bit of jealousy.  Notoriety does that at times.  Especially if a person isn't liked by a certain other person or group.  It gnaws at one's core to think someone they find arrogant, appalling, brash, or controversial, could be influential in forming ideas and views.  Pity the jealous among us.

I must admit that I would like to be a force of influence within our community of faith.  Not to boast a high ranking.  Not so much to make money, though that would be nice.  I want to help folks to know Jesus.  Admittedly, I sometimes get carried away and rant and ramble about some goofy political issue.  Or I may vent my thoughts on the perils and evils of blogging.  But for the most part, I want to share my Lord and how He gives me strength, peace and hope.  In a world dominated by entities and personalities which seek to destroy the things I count dear, I strive to stir up hearts and minds to grow in Christ.  I long to manifest His Spirit to the world by encouraging others, having patience, showing kindness, goodness and love.

It's not always easy.  I'm not always successful.  Sometimes I get so lazy I don't care.  Yet, I know this is a calling for me.  It is a ministry I love...especially since my health keeps me from doing other things I once did.  So, whether I rank high with Technorati or people "like" me with Facebook, click Follow, subscribe to my feed, or I have any commenters, I will still keep on writing...at least for Today.  selahV 

Heavy Heart

Ever have a heavy heart?  A burden for someone you cannot get off your mind?  Every verse you read whispers their name.  Words that come to my mind are mercy, grace, peace, consolation, strength, joy, comfort, encouragement, rest, hope.

Yet all these words are so empty to someone who is at their wit's end.  Their physical condition has taken its toll.  Depression has wrapped around them like a warm blanket on a cold dark night.  They cannot take it off for fear of freezing.  They know God.  They know He loves but they feel none because their heart is in the throes of earthly battles beyond their control. The thorns have not been removed.  The pain is persistent. The turmoil returns with the morning sun.  The weight of emptiness is crushing.  Faith is an ember.

I can only pray.  And continue to pray.  May God's mercy be upon my "someone".  In fact, I have a couple of "someones".  My heart may be heavy, but not nearly as heavy as my "someone" so far away.  May light be upon them.  Lift their spirit, oh, LORD.  Return hope from where hope has hidden.

Sometimes I Want to Disappear

I want to run from the daily difficulty, the harsh reality of grief, heartache and aggravations.

It's on those days I feel as dry as these hydrangea petals...brittle, starving for moisture--thirsting for the refreshment of Morning Dew.

I am as empty as these jars...silently waiting for the Spirit's filling.

It never ceases to amaze me that when I most yearn for this kind of peace, I am clinging mostly to myself and my desires, and what makes me happy, pleased, and accomodated.

What duplicity!  What oxymoronic behavior.  What an allegiance split!  It isn't until I sit awhile by the still green waters of silence, that a deeper thirsting and hungering stirs within me.  I do at those times want to disappear...truly lose myself in Him...the Way, the Truth and the Life.

I want to be so deeply in Christ...so enveloped by His love, so encased in His Spirit of peace, love, joy, and comfort--that I see nothing of myself--nor want nothing for myself.    Bebo Norman best describes this desire for me in his song Disappear.  CLICK HERE /link to hear him and read the lyrics as he sings.  selahV

BE CAREFUL...somone is watching you /link. 

Mother's Day In Review

For many, yesterday was a day of remembering Moms.  In fact, on Facebook (the world-wide social network site), I saw precious tributes.  One gal even asked everyone to change their profile picture and replace it with one of their mothers til Monday.  I thought that was sweet.  I didn't do that.  I have no idea where any pictures are of my mothers.

My biological mom is barely a memory...she abandoned us when I was just three, the three or four times I saw her afterwards leave fanciful feathers fluttering in my mind.

Step-mother #1 stirs memories of sadness as a whole--although, one cannot toss aside the years in which she washed my clothes and cooked meals.  I have to give her credit where credit is due.  Most of what she was in my life was not her fault.  Albeit hard to suffer the anguish of abuse, mentally ill people need our forgiveness, especially when they let you pull taffy on a cold winter night.

Step#2 didn't really consider me much more than my father's daughter. She and her children got some of the better parts of my dad's time, money and affection.  Enough said.

Step#3 was a gem.  I do call her blessed for giving my father the best 4 years of his heartbreaking 82 years of life.  When I watch others share how much they miss their mothers, the heartbreak they have without them, I often think I may be more blessed for never having known the joy of moms. In a sense I have been spared that kind of pain.  Admittedly, it makes it harder to empathize with another's burden...that makes it easier for me to understand how folks feel who cannot fathom my loss of a son...two babies.

Given the post I shared on Mother's Day, and due to the prayers so many offered on my behalf, I thought I'd take a few moments to tell you how things went for me yesterday (and also share some family photos).  Before I do that I want to acknowledge the gorgeous flowers you see pictured above.  My son's dear childhood friend (and a former youth I taught in the first pastorate we were blessed to serve), sent them to me.  She's been rather faithful to me as a friend and sister-in-Christ since Chad's death.

[Karen Pollock contributes to Devotional Christian now and she wrote one of the sweetest tributes to my son (HERE).  But make sure you subscribe to Devotional Christian while you're there so you don't miss any of her moving devotionals.]

So...the flowers come in the middle of the night, at about 8:15 on Saturday night.  Such a gift I stumble to explain.  You see, Karen doesn't know this, but one of the hardest times I have through the Mother's Day extravaganza is May 7th...the night before Mother's Day.  That was the night six years ago I last spoke to my son--last heard his voice.  As usual, he had a story to tell, and part of it was his joy in going to see the Texas Rangers play ball in Dallas.  That evening at around 10:15 was the last time I heard his sweet words, of good-bye and "I love you, momma."  So often at that hour of each Saturday before Mother's Day, my heart fills with a bitter-sweetness of gratitude and regret.  Gratitude that God gave me that last "I-love-you, Momma" --- Regret that we hung up before I said I love you too, my precious son.  It's hard to forgive myself for that lapse in motherhood.

So, Karen...you are, my friend, another portion of Chad's never-ending story of a life. The love he shared with you nearly 30 years ago in friendship, blossomed into a basket of roses and daisies for me on a day only Chad, and I, and God would know is a day I find especially difficult.  Your flowers blessed me more than you'll ever know.  It was like a gift from heaven above.  I can almost hear my son say, "forgetta bout it, Momma; just stop and smell the roses today."

Secondly, my friends and new readers, that is just one facet of what I call God's divine interventions in life...a comforting Balm through a love cultivated years ago in a little country Kentucky church.  Corrie ten Boom was right when she wrote, "Every experience God gives you, every person He puts in your life, is the perfect preparation for the future, that only He can see." 

Thirdly, My daughter did what she does naturally for her--she loves through acts of service.  She prepared a brisket dinner for me and her own family.  Every single Sunday (for the most part) she makes Sunday dinner.  I couldn't help but think of how much I appreciate her gift of love.  A menial task, some might say.  But special because I have her in my life to share my heart, to embattle, to love, to plan stuff, to undergird and etcetera, etcetera.  Some folks wonder why I don't write much about my daughter.  I realize that it a curious thing considering the attention I give to the relationship I had with my son.  I'm simply following orders.  You see, as precious as my daughter is, and as much as I would love to give you all the nitty-gritty details of her life and her older children, Holly is a private kind of gal.  She makes me keep my thoughts closer to my chest, my fingers holstered, and for the most part, pictures stored in scrapbooks. 

To say she doesn't like to call attention to herself rather belies the kook she is at ladies' retreats. But she doesn't like to announce to the world all the things she does as she serves the Lord.  She doesn't tweet, friend, or blog.  This world is rather foreign to her.  It's doubtful she even reads a single thing I write--go figure.  But she owns a humongous portion of my heart, always has, always will.  I'd die for her.  She could have both kidneys and my liver.  I know she loves me...and while she's never stood up in the city gates and called me blessed, I know.  I know she cares.  I know because no matter how heated we may get over trivialities of life, she and I are on the phone talking and sharing by 10:00 a.m. the next day.  It's just the way we are.  It's not how we've always been.  And most of that is my fault.  I have learned a lot about motherhood from my daughter.  I think most mommas do.

Lastly...yesterday...Mother's Day was one of the most peacefilled, comforting, blissful, and God-infused days I've had in a long long time.  Here is just a sampling of things that held my attention.  Most of it is pictures.  I hope you have as much fun looking at them as I had cropping and adding captions today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Click to enlarge me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
So among others, these were some of the sweet memories the Lord brought my way because of you, my friends who prayed for me.

Life is not always a happy time.  It's not always perfect.  It has moments, though -- snapshots in the course of living which we need to be vigilant not to miss.  Moments flash before our eyes, and can be blurred before our cameras grab the perfect shot.  Often in our desire to have the perfect day, we waste time trying to catch the perfect smile, the perfect pose.  Then we miss the seconds of love and lose a memory we could capture and lock inside our hearts forever.  Enjoy today.  Enjoy tomorrow.  Be like my son...stop and smell the roses.  Smell them today.  selahV   

Close Encounters (Continued)

Pity parties are odd things.  I often throw mine and realize I have not one soul I can invite.  Who'd want to join me in feeling sorry for myself after all?  I don't even want to talk to me.

Enter the blogosphere...Facebook, Twitter.  There's always someone somewhere to join in commiserating with me.  That can be a dangerous thing for some folk, but I've been blessed by some of those folks who encourage with scripture without beating my head in with Strong's Exhaustive Concordance of verses from their 7-pound Family Bible.  I'm humbled that a person takes the time to care for someone they've never been physically close enough to to even so much as nod at a four-way stopsign.

It seems odd, to say the least, that we find ourselves spilling our guts to people we've never had the privilege of seeing face to face. It's quite baffling when one finds more understanding, and encouragement via internet access than from a person they've shared years of details in an up-close-and-personal relationship.

How can this happen?  Is it true we can't see the forest for the trees?

I never know quite how long to hold a pity party. Occasionally, for me, holding one is what makes life most bearable to deal with an arthritic infested spine, a painful vertebrae, the dreaded day others find joy in remembering Mothers, and the petty disappointments of daily living.  Until the last guest leaves (uh, that be me), I tend to wallow in this time and write.  I write.  I gripe, complain, whine, and consider the bunk stored in an unguarded heart which always seems to surface in my mind when I am at my lowest point emotionally and physically.

Yet, when the tears dry upon my cheeks, and the pity party begins to lose its charm, I rediscover an age-old truth.  By some extraordinary twist of providence, only God can make a difference in disappointments.  Only He is wise enough to give us the exact person we need at that particular time in our lives to deliver His word of comfort.  Only He can fuse the broken spirit, and turn the life-wheels to form a pot worth having from the dust and water of a corrupted earth.

Only through writing, praying, and weighing my thoughts, do I find any purpose for the chaotic friction, fissures, and misunderstandings...if there be any purpose under the sun.  There is a time for everything--a time to live, to die, to dance, to not dance, to weep, to laugh.  Today is my time to mourn life in general.  It's my way of running like Forrest, biking, painting, doing yardwork and purging the closets of my soul.  Since today gave way to self-indulgence, perhaps tomorrow will bring the joy.  If not, there is always the next day--and the next.  For without Hope, without expectation of God's intervention, would there be any sense at all in this world?  I think not. 

There's therapeutic deliverance in thinking, in writing, in praying through discouragement.  God changes me and things seem to change around me.  It's not that I can change the circumstance or fix the situation.  No, there is no fixing what is.  Only living with it as is, and accepting "such is life".  C'est la vie.

It's hard to admit, since I haven't really ended my pity party, but I am quite grateful for the close encounters He brings my way when I least expect it.  I really am.  They often show me a side of myself I cannot see for the trees.  Their pain puts me in my place.  Their struggles help me see my own in perspective.  Their love makes me want to love the ones I'm with a bit more, a bit stronger--with greater tolerance and patience and understanding.

 

How about you?  Has God brought about good from what others intended, or unintentionally intended, as evil?  Have you had "close encounters" from a long distance? selahV