Day 91 - Time for a new direction

Hello to all,
    I am here in a mall in a small Washington town. After a week of no rain, the skies are threatening and I know the weekend will be a soggy one. I just went to my Weight Watchers meeting after a week of too much work, too many clients and many days of working through lunch; long hours, longer commute. After a loss of 4 pounds last week, this week I gained 1.2. It was a difficult week, and this is reflected in my weight.
   I was talking with a family member this morning about the fact that having knowledge about millions of suffering people somehow doesn't help me with my attitude about things in my own life. You would think it would, wouldn't you?  I gave a lecture about AIDS and the 2009 facts I had were at that time 29 million children world-wide had AIDS.  I can't imagine the suffering those numbers represent, how many kids in pain, hopeless, and dying. 
   It's amazing to me that I can even complain about being over-worked, or not getting to go to Disney World. How can it be possible that my values are so skewed that the sheer enormity of my life of blessings opposed to so many others life of suffering doesn't move me to my knees to thank God for my blessings?
   I'm not sure where my spirit of gratitude went, but I think maybe sheer exhaustion impacts the human spirit's ability to look for the good, to be thankful for blessings. 
   Some eight months ago I began this blog with the intention of sharing my journey in reclaiming my physical fitness  It's been strange how the holistic nature of life has become interwoven with this journey. At present, I am still pursuing a healthier lifestyle but have encountered a few bumps in the road. When pushed by circumstances outside of my control, my routines suffer and I have the experience of taking some steps back.  
   Recouping from these failures means, picking myself up, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and maybe, just maybe choosing some new directions for my life. The routine of church continues, as does my Bible reading and prayers. I am hesitant to take action to change circumstances too quickly, but, at this point I am praying for change.
  If at all possible, I think finding a balance between work, home and family would be a good thing for me. If I am spending 12.5 hours of my days, five days a week, and am worn out to the point of stopping my exercise, recreational activities, is this a good thing?  I know there are millions of people who are caught in the same rat race of long hours, hard work just to keep a home, food, and all the other things going. However, maybe somehow I can change this scenario for my life. 
  Reading in Proverbs 16:9 today, I read, "A person's mind plans their way, but God orders their steps."  I like the phrase, but God.  Right now in my life, my prayers are that God will intervene and show me a way out of this current path where I'm exhausted all the time.  I would like to be with family and friends, not sitting in a chair, falling asleep, waking to work again.
  God is good, and I have a three day weekend.  I am very grateful.  I was offered over-time  for working another day, on top of the week I had already worked, but I turned it down. How useful is a couple of hundred dollars if you're sitting in an easy chair dozing off too tired to even do life?  Not much, so I turned it down with a thank you.
  I believe that this awareness I'm developing about just how challenging work can be will help me be more understanding to others who are on a similar treadmill, or perhaps an even harder one. I must keep in mind that there are so many people, even wanting and lacking food to eat, I am blessed beyond measure at this time.  I will cultivate a spirit of thanksgiving to realize even in my hardships I am so truly blessed.
  So, three days to re-evaluate, and perhaps with God's help come up with a revised life plan. I will keep you posted. Never, never, never give up, today might be the day your weeping will end and joy will come in the morning. Be blessed.

Day 90 a year and a day

        I work with criminals. Men who for the most part have spent, ten, twenty, thirty years or more in the criminal justice system. Juvenile detention, jails, prisons, probation, Department of Corrections, it’s been the pattern of their lives. A familiar phrase that I’ve picked up from them, is a year and a day. For some reason, judges give that as a sentence for any number of crimes. The guys try to explain to me the “point” system, how much for this, how much time for that, but I’m not really into it.  I call it the “new math”, because often they will try to tell me that well, if they would have gone to prison instead of treatment they only would have done ‘x’ amount of time, with credit for ‘good time’, jail time etc.  Sometimes, the ‘new math’ makes it sound as if the prison is going to owe them time for their crimes.

        All I know is that for the men in my group, they were facing a prison sentence of 12-60 months that they traded for a DOSA, (Drug Offender Sentencing Alternative) treatment that lets them go through treatment of 3 – 6 months inpatient treatment instead of prison. That means that often men go before the judge saying, “Yes your Honor, I really need drug treatment”, just to get less time. Are they motivated to change?  Not so much.

        My job involves trying to create an environment where their motivation to find a new life, to stop using drugs, and committing crimes might occur. Yikers!! Well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that without God coming into their lives in a supernatural way, the motivation to change just isn’t going to happen. Regret, shame, remorse, repentance are virtues that by in large don’t naturally occur in someone who has spent years, lying, cheating, stealing and worse as an everyday thing. Every man gets a J and S, (Judgment and Sentence) that comes from the courts. In that a brief list of their crimes is listed. I try not to focus on those crimes when I work with the guys, if I did, I might get discouraged and possibly be afraid.

        I am a 62 year old grandmother lecturing groups of 36 convicted felons about life, guilt and shame, and a bunch of other topics that many of the men could care less about. I have to keep them interested, stop them from talking unless called upon, make them put their books and homework away and pay attention. It’s a weird deal. My own family doesn’t have a clue what I do on a daily basis.

        We have rule violations written for the men by staff that I have to give the men. I have to take away privileges from big, tough, guys (most of them), who are not at all happy. Some of them argue, cuss me out, puff up like they’re going to hit me, etc. I’ve learned to stare them down, be ready to ‘go to the mat’, aka let their CCO know they are not willing to program, and have them “cuffed out” and sent to jail/prison if they aren’t willing to comply.

        Ongoing, I ask the people in my church to pray for me and ask God to surround me with His presence and protection. I pray for strength and wisdom, because with 180 of them in my building it could go wrong at any time. I’ve been with men yelling, saying they will going to kill somebody; I’ve been with men swearing, yelling, ready to hit. 

        Remarkably, a tribute to God alone, me, old lady that I am, has the highest rate for graduates on the DOSA floor. What this means, is that consistently more of the men I work with finish treatment. Our agency measures this and sends out charts, and there I am with a 94% completion rate.  I am competing with counselors who themselves were addicts, heroin, meth, alcohol. Counselors who are much younger, tougher than me, but God, who is rich in mercy, and who gives strength to the weak, continues to bless what I do.   I don’t take credit for these results. I know there are women and men who pray daily for my men, and for me. I am thankful for these prayers because sometimes the sheer magnitude of facing another day with sometimes two hours of lectures, three hours of group, 3 hours of 1x1’s, and piles of paperwork makes me want to flee to a warmer climate, far, far away from this much responsibility.

      But God, who is rich in His mercy has me tucked into a new office with a wall of windows facing the sky. Next to me is my friend who loves God and just got his Master’s degree in Chaplaincy. Next to him is our supervisor who is on his churches’ worship team, and happens to go to the same kind of church as me. He loves God and that common faith strengthens me and helps me not feel so vulnerable to the onslaught of men, many of whom are intent on doing what they want, getting what they want no matter how unpleasant they have to be.

        Truth be told, there is kind of a “prison” code where it’s not too cool to be mean to an old lady like myself, so many of the guys step up to protect me. Once when we almost had a riot, my group surrounded me in lecture and had a plan of how to get me out safely if a fight broke out. Well, remembering that time makes me want to cry. It was scary to say the least.

        I try to realize that these guys are men Jesus wants to change. That there are mothers, fathers, children, wives, brothers, sisters, grandmas, hoping, praying that these same guys will somehow quit using drugs. That they can stop worrying that they will end up dead, or in prison, again, or involved in murdering somebody, but will just be able to have “normal” lives. I try to see the good in these guys, to look for areas of promise; to encourage them to create a better plan for their lives.

        I challenge them, and encourage them to use their time in treatment to seek their Higher Power, to explore what they think about God, and to pray and ask the question, “God if you’re there, will you help me?”  I can’t tell them about Jesus, but I can encourage them to go to Celebrate Recovery or church, knowing that there the message of the gospel is preached. Many of the men share how they have asked Jesus into their hearts and lives. Some of them have been baptized.

        A week or so I thought I would soon be leaving this job, and moving on. Now, circumstance with family and financial obligations have created a situation where I know unless a miracle happens I’m staying put. Will I be there a year and a day? ( I’ve been there for three years already.) I don’t know, I only know I will continue to seek God on a daily basis to try to help me to be what He wants me to be. I know how weak I am, I know He alone is my source of strength. I cannot look ahead, the way seems too long, I can only live for today. There are so many wonderful hymns that have lines of encouragement, many of those melodies and lines come to comfort me through my days. Sometimes, when I’m walking the hallways I will sing a few phrases, the words of praise echoing off the long halls and walls. My first group room, was a round room with a ceiling of over thirty feet high. It had been the old chapel in the days that the building had been a Catholic hospital. The nuns used to come pray there and an old Catholic tapestry some 16 feet long hangs still on the wall, religious symbols woven in bright textural hues. In that chapel, the acoustics are wonderful and sometimes singing there, a “God moment” occurred and I could see that even in the darkest nights God can enter in.

        Another “God moment” occurred this week, when a church family stepped up to help me. They drove twice a day, twenty some miles round trip to take a family member to appointments. I really appreciated their kindness. There have been many other times when the church has stepped up to help my family in the last year.

        If you don’t have a church home, and you are trying to tackle the mountains in your own life alone I encourage you to take a step of faith and find a place to attend church. Yes, it’s difficult to get to know people; yes, there are challenges; but if you persist, you will find that eventually being with other people who love God will help provide strength, comfort and help for your own difficulties. My prayers go with you. You - are many unknown people who are reading this. I can see from the world map that there are those of you from the far corners of the world who read my blog, but I will perhaps never see your face.  To each of you, remember God hears and answers prayer, be blessed.

       

Day 89 Comfort in the midst of the storm

      This am, dark still shrouding the earth with its blanket of darkness, I sit alone in my room drinking coffee and reading my Bible and devotionals. The dogs are waking up, the grandmother cat, Winnie, finds a place to take a short nap after having lapped up her saucer of milk. It is a quiet peaceful time, neighbors not yet up, the distant sounds of cars,  few and far between.

I love these moments of time when I can bathe my soul in hope and comfort. It is as if each morning, I reset my ‘positive clock’ with words of inspiration, then over the course the day, people and circumstances wear that clock down until, at last, before sleeping I realize it and I are both worn out and have no more left to give.

Recently I’ve been re-reading the Gospel of John. I am in hopes that the more I steep my mind and heart in the words of Jesus, the more those words will become part and parcel of who I am. I remember as a teenager becoming enamored with tye-dyed t-shirts. It was the 60’s and tye-dye spread from San Francisco to the rest of the US as a fad. I took my allowance, went to the store and bought several packages of Rit dye. It seemed magical in a way, tiny boxes, with so much power.

I can remember trying to create the bright patterns I’d seen in movies, on TV and in stores. It seemed so easy. I got a big kettle, put in the dye and water and followed the directions. I waited, but never long enough, my colors were always anemic shadows of the hues I wanted. I lacked the patience to wait until the dyes had done their work; I wanted to see the t-shirts, now!

Much of my life has been like trying to make those t-shirts, I want to see the results now! I set big goals, I create complicated plans, but the pattern has been at times I’ll grow tired of waiting for the results and stop short of reaching my goal. Spiritually, waiting is a principle that is scattered throughout scripture as being a key ingredient in the ‘God-walk’. Waiting and patience, both virtues that are only acquired by going through things, aka suffering.

Well, most of the people I know don’t like suffering, or waiting. It’s difficult, it’s complicated, and it requires a continual turning of heart and mind towards God in an attitude of faith believing that eventually the night of weeping will be over, and joy really will come in the morning. It also requires believing that some good will come out of all the pain, and it won’t be just wasted effort.

 

This am, reading my devotionals a couple of verses stood out to me, here they are:

“All praise to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the source of every mercy and the God who comforts us. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When others are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.”

2^nd Corinthians 1: 2- 4  

        Well, the whole part about us being comforted so that we can comfort others makes sense. A client recently kept throwing out the word empathy.  It seemed as if at the time it was a manipulation to allow some people to get away with not following the rules, a vain attempt to evoke empathy as a rationale to over-look violations. Empathy, sympathy and comfort can sometimes all be lumped together into a mushy kind of emotional blanket people throw out to cover up the pain of life.

        I believe comfort in the sense of the comfort God gives is more than that. The Holy Spirit is described as the Comforter. Paul refers to the “comfort of the Scriptures.” Comfort to me means a deeper kind of knowing that no matter what, God will help me.  That no matter how dark it might be in my life, that He is still there and He loves me and has a purpose and plan for my life. When I try to comfort others, it is not so much that I tell them, “Yes I see how terrible that is. Yes, it is horrible.” But that I try to reassure them that in the midst of the storm God is still there. That I share:

 

Well, He’s brought me through the fire,

 And He’s saved me from the flood.

 He’s redeemed me through his power

 And He’s cleansed me with His blood.

 And when my heart became so broken,

 I couldn’t take another step,

 That’s when my God reached down and said,

“Child it’s time for you to get up.” 

Copyright 2006 robin dray

      Without God as part of the equation, comfort is a hollow use of meaningless platitudes that fall short of touching the enormity of human pain. With God, hope can be born in the soils of despair.

Wednesday night, at church, tired after a 6 am to 6:30 pm work day I went to church. I was exhausted, constantly directing a group of men who are used to being criminals on the street requires a lot of fortitude. Challenging financial problems, health issues with grandchildren all had taken their toll. I was ready to sleep, renew my strength for another day. I sat through the teaching, couldn’t quite bring myself to sing the songs. After church, waiting for a grandchild, I quietly played the piano going through an old chorus book with lots of beloved melodies.

        I looked up and my pastor came into the sanctuary, he quickly laid an envelope and left. I assumed it was a card for my relative who had been injured. I opened it and found a check made out to me. My pastor at the door of the sanctuary called back, “I’m just the messenger.”

        Somebody had anonymously given me money. I put my head down on the piano keys for a few moments. I cried.  I honestly didn’t know what to feel. Somebody, someone I knew, wanted to help me and my grandson. It was humbling and embarrassing. So much of me wants to be able to fix things myself. Waiting for God to help us it just didn’t occur to me that people might help. How do you accept gifts graciously? I don’t know, it’s something apparently I haven’t learned. Well, whoever you are, thank you. I will pay off some pressing utility bills and realize I have a bit of a reprieve to continue to try to figure out this financial mess. Someone wanted to try to comfort us in a tangible way. God used people, to comfort me with helping with the bills.

        I guess that brings up the fact that comfort, can come in all kinds of ways. A smile, a kind word, a casserole, a phone call, a letter, money, helping with repairs, errands, children…… sometimes, just feeling the sun on my face is a comfort and promise that eventually things will work out.

        God has designed us to experience His comfort and to become comforters. The very trials that create so much pain, are designed to allow us to experience his love and in turn show others that same love. My prayer is that I will continually grow in my ability to be of comfort. To allow God to keep working on my rough edges, (more than a few) and let His love and kindness shine through.

        Today, if you are going through a dark time dare to hope. Turn your heart and life over to Jesus and allow Him to fill you with peace, and the comfort of the Holy Spirit, allow Him to help you find your own joy in the morning. Be blessed.

Day 88 - a new adventure awaits

Awake, with the awareness that I have been driven over the past few years by projects, plans, and purposes. That always, there have been goals set before my face towards which I have directed my energies, resources and passions. For this moment of time I am stepping out of those ebbing tides to step back and assess. I want to ask the question, “What am I doing for the rest of my life?”

Yesterday, lecturing to a room of about 40 men in treatment, I tried to   communicate to them the concept of, “What if?”  After having met all of them, hearing their names, ages, County of origin, maybe why they were there, or drugs of choice, I looked out over a sea of tired, young/old faces and realized the depth of despair represented in their corporate mass. How dare I even attempt to engage them in some kind of motivating dialog?  Well, number one and foremost, I believe that God can indwell my feeble self, reason, intellect and infuse me with a greater wisdom and ability to reach into the lives of the people I work with. So, bathed in prayer, hopefully steeped in a sense of dependence upon a power greater then myself, I tried to communicate.

I saw a few connections in the eyes of the men I spoke with. A few tears, a few glimmers of hope, a few seeds of daring to believe that maybe, this time, things might be different; that this time, they could follow through and not return to drugs and lives of crime.

I value being able to speak to the men, to try to motivate them to change, but much of me longs to be able to share the power, purpose, passion of the message of the redemptive love of Jesus. The anemic message of HP, (Higher Power), watered-down, politically correct, falls short of what I know they need.  Fortunately, I know if I encourage them to seek, to attend church, Celebrate Recovery meetings, they will connect with the message of hope in Christ Jesus. I am only planting seeds that someone else will water.

So here I am on a Saturday morning, drinking coffee, caught up in a spiral of wondering, “What will I do for the rest of my life?” I like the verses in Psalms, “You will show me the path of life, in your presence is fullness of joy.”  In Proverbs, this is one of my favorite verses, “Your Word is a lamp unto my feet, a light unto my path.” As a hiker, I love spending time exploring deep into the mountains and forest. Being possessed of great stamina, I can hike for hours, resting here and there, drinking in the scenery. Sometimes, the lure of the trail draws me further and further until I realize that unprepared for overnight camping I must turn and go back down the trail. Any number of times, the sinking sun has brought shadows and I’ve found myself carefully watching my steps as darkness falls. The fact of the matter is, it’s dangerous to be up in the mountains and trying to find your way in the dark, there are too many rocks, bumps, roots in the trail that at any time can send you tumbling over a cliff for a nasty fall.

It’s the same way with life. There are twists and bends in the road, new vistas ahead which can beckon, but in a very real sense you need to keep your wits about you or you can end up chasing elusive rainbows that end up in disaster. Now, on the cusp of getting old, still in the throes of excellent health, and so much energy, I’m tempted to seek adventure. Hilarious but true. I have a challenging job now, but it’s secure. I’m in a union, I have seniority, and I’m at the top of the chart for achieving client engagement.  If I want to stay there, I’m not going anywhere soon.

However, the call, the desire of my heart is to be a ‘fisher of men’ (and women).  I feel hindered in working in a secular, non-partisan treatment center where I cannot tell people about the message of salvation through Jesus Christ. The door is open to bring in Bibles and Christian books, which I have done through the generous donations of my church. I can have Christian plaques on the wall of my office, but unless someone asks me about my faith, I am obligated to not tell them. I have the ethical constraints of our agency, and our Department of Corrections contract where freedom of religion is guaranteed through the Constitution of the United States, and respect of culture and belief systems are guaranteed.

Within those constraints I can’t help wondering, “Am I in any way a light for the lost? A voice crying in the wilderness this way towards hope and healing?”

Earlier in my life, my desire to be in ministry was blocked by barriers of my past mistakes.  Now, time, age, and training has somewhat eliminated those barriers. I realize I could go out into the world and be involved in missions. There is a world of people, old, young, suffering, addicted who could benefit from my compassion, knowledge and training. As my obligations to others decreases here in the United States, I could go, I could serve.

Like many of you reading this, I struggle with knowing what  the will of God is for my life. Understanding what part our will has in determining where we’re supposed to be is crucial. Knowing what part open doors play in defining opportunity is also a component. More importantly, having the strong awareness of what our own part is in seeking those pathways, looking for those avenues, and understanding when we should follow our  desires is an ongoing challenge. When are we to “bloom where we’re planted?”  When are we to seek out new avenues of service?

Well, right now, in my life that’s where I’m at. Trying to be the best I can where I’m at, but building up to the awareness that very possibly I’m ready to let go of the ties here, and go to a foreign country.  I don’t know if the ‘foreign country’ is going to be an inter-city mission in the United States, or somewhere far away in a third world country, but I sense it is coming.  I am getting ready. I am still working on getting fit, modifying my diet and exercise plans. I am still in the process of downsizing my material possessions. Room by room, closet by closet. Maybe someday, I will be down to a suitcase, we’ll see.

I can’t help smiling at this moment. I’ve always loved adventures and I know one is right around the corner. I will keep you posted as to what I discover on my own pathway. One thing I know, these last few years have not been dull, that’s not been in the vocabulary of my life. They’ve been difficult, they’ve been challenging but never dull. God has sustained me, strengthened me, and enable me to cope with people and places I never would have imagined possible.

I challenge each of you reading this to discover, “What does God have in your future?” Are there purposes and plans you never could have imagined?  If you keep trusting, if you keep believing, if you keep being willing, God is looking for people who will help in His ultimate purposes and plans. The fields are white unto harvest, are you willing to go? Have a wonderful day and be blessed. What is your next adventure???

Day 87 What If????

Day 87- What if ??

In church this morning when our pastor spoke, he said felt God wanted to convey a word of encouragement to someone, that word was, “Trust.” I thought on that for a while as an international missionary couple talked about their mission and ministry in Spain.

This afternoon, enjoying the sunny, bright crisp winter day from the comfort of my family room couch my thoughts continued to evolve. “Trust.” What if I began to operate daily on the fact that I can trust God’s promises. What if each action and attitude of my heart acts on the premise that what God has said in the Bible is written for me, will I suddenly find myself making horrendous mistakes? Will my finances plummet even further?  Will my career efforts instead of being successful become dismally projected towards failure?

At this point of my life, the fact of the matter is, deciding to act as if God is real, and loves me, and will take care of me no matter what, can’t hurt. Thinking about that actually makes me want to sing, and a new song is bubbling up in my soul,

 

“Walking on water, how does it feel?

Knowing that believing, will make it real.

I know it’s not easy to face the waves

With  Jesus beside me, I can obey.

 

When the wind blows strong, I sing this song

My faith it might falter, but not for long

For when I am weary and start to fall

That’s when he lifts me, my all in all.

Well, that’s just the beginning of the song. Now, night is falling and my evening is begun. The what if’s of tomorrow stretch ahead.

 What if tomorrow is the day, my joy comes in the morning?

Be happy and be blessed.

 

 

 

Day 86 - rest for the weary

This am, early I got up and made my morning coffee. While it was brewing, I gave Winnie, the gray calico cat her bowl of milk and let the dogs outside for a run. Mornings are for me the time to read my Bible and regroup, drink my coffee and get new direction for my day. First of the year, I gathered my devotional books and put them away. I was determined to forge a new path of study without my old friends. One day, missing my old companions I searched them out and took them from their spot on the shelf putting them back on the bedside table where they’ve resided for many years. I missed reading their thoughts on God’s workings, which have become part and parcel of my morning routine.

There is something to be said about hearing the thoughts of other people who have lived and searched for the best ways to know God. I realize that each of us must find out own way, but for me, it helps to hear how others have understood and tested the promises of God in their own lives. This morning, bits and pieces of the words of Jesus came into my own mind and I searched out the reference for the verse,

“Come to me all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Mathew 11:29

Well, I like this verse because it gives me hope that not always will I be struggling and tired; that at some point, I will experience a rest of soul, mind and body. I don’t want to become lazy, or slothful, lounging on the couch eating boxes of chocolate, but I would like to have a break from the pressures of life. The must do’s, the have tos, the deadlines, the must pays, these I find tedious and stressful.

I watch HGTV in the evenings after my twelve hour work day and often enjoy watching House Hunters International.  So often young families are shown  relocating to other counties to slow their pace down, to rediscover the value of together time in cultures not so rush, rush, rush oriented.

Well, I might have the money to move to one of these countries, but I’d never have the money to come back. Yes the food, rent and utilities are so low I could afford to retire, but would I yearn for the faces of my children and grandchildren while I was enjoying the sunshine? I think I might, in fact I know I would and so I stay connected to where I’m at, wondering why water should cost me almost $100 a month, and how on earth I’m ever going to fix the roof, or the front porch. I also wonder quietly to myself, “Does Jesus care about my water bill? “ That might sound like a sacrilegious question to some people reading this but does He?

 Another verse that comes to my mind says,

 “Cast all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” I Peter 5:7

Doesn’t this include water bills? And leaking roofs? Am I foolish to limit God and think that well those verses are philosophical and there not really talking about literal, actual, everyday things?  Hmmm…… when Jesus fed the five thousand because they were hungry and weary, that was pretty literal. When he healed the Centurion’s child,  that was pretty literal. In this world of computers, and jets, and internet, it seems that the tendency is to put Jesus in a religion box we take out on Sunday’s and sing about and to. No longer is He the God of the impossible, He has become the God of the obligatory Sunday service.  Where did this philosophy come from and why is it so pervasive that even I, a Christian for many years is noticing the creeping doubts that come, wondering if Jesus cares about my water bill?

One devotional I read today emphasized the need to be alone with God until His thoughts, will and plans become enmeshed into our spirits. To quiet our hearts and minds to listen to that still, small voice that will teach us wisdom and knowledge for our lives. Well, I realize the way I described that process almost sounds as if I’m lighting incense and staring into the dark. That’s not what I’m advocating.  I don’t think the trappings of religious fervor are necessary but a willing heart and spirit are.

This one thing I know, I am tired, weary and worn out from the pressures of facing my life with its financial and job pressures. I need a new direction where things are not so chaotic or if they are the rewards spiritually offset the pain and suffering.

 

A chorus I often sang as a youth was,

My Lord knows the way through the wilderness,

All I have to do is follow

 My Lord knows the way through the wilderness,

All I have to do is follow.

Strength for today, is mine all the way,

And all that I need for tomorrow

My Lord knows the way through the wilderness.

All I have to do is follow.

 

Well, much like a GPS system thrown out of whack by multiple streets with the same name, my own GPS, my God Programming System is out of kilter. Materialism has crept in and is jamming my homing signal. I am trying to find God with a spirit cluttered by love of things clinging stubbornly on to my soul.

Today, with God’s help I will deep-clean my own spirit and try again to find His way for my life, to find His rest for my life, and perhaps in the process rediscover my own joy in the morning.

To those of you on a similar trek, take heart. May your todays be blessed with an awareness of His presence and your nights be comforted with the knowledge of his love.

Promise: “Don’t worry about anything, instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need and thank Him for all he has done. If you do this, you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will guard your heart and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4: 6-7

Day - 85 the next stage of the journey

      Sitting in the sunlight living room of my home in my mom’s old recliner. It’s a moment out of time when I can just sit and let the undone chores cease their beckoning. Our ancient cat, Winnie, gives herself a bath while basking in the sun. She’s getting pesky in her old age and is likely to bother me each and every early morning for her bowl of milk. She’s fourteen years old and has been our companion through many and varied stages of life.

     Now, not retired, just tired I’m gearing up for this last leg of my journey. I have a while yet before the final downsizing occurs and the pressures to maintain the status-quo of house, car, and myriad bills  keeps tap, tapping on my awareness. But, for this moment of time, I will sit in the sun and reflect on who I am and how I came to be.

     A glance out the dining room window today revealed yet more downed trees in the deep forested ravine. The creek, taking it’s own hiatus from chaos gently flows through the ravine towards the mighty Columbia River. Yesterday, awake in the wee morning hours, I was serenaded by the call of  fog horns from ships making their through the midst of the fog-shrouded river to the ocean, and the wide open sea. 

     Much of my life has involved waiting for the next ‘shoe to drop’. So many times in my life, God has appeared at that last moment and provided a way of escape so that the impending disaster was averted. Sometimes, the feared appeared but with halting steps I made my way through, my spiritual hand tucked tightly in God’s. And now, moment by moment I appropriate strength to tackle whatever’s next. The increase of Social Security taxes hit me hard, another 60 dollars out of an already dwindling pay check. Ever hopeful, I worked on my tax return to discover that instead of a healthy thousand plus refund, it too had dwindled to a mere 150 token check.

      I realize, in every pore, that I am still  and all incredibly wealthy by much of the world’s standard. We are still eating, although on modified fare, and the utilities, shut off notices aside are still on. I try to envision 3^rd world children digging through garbage dumps for scraps of food, but cannot. I know it’s true, but it is so far removed from where I am tucked into a small Oregon town, living on a hillside enjoying the warmth of the sun in a peaceful comfortable chair.

     Missionaries come to visit our church; news programs show of disaster and I try to wrap my mind around the realities facing others gaining perspective on what my own woes might be. The sun is making me sleepy and so much I want to kick back fall to sleep and face things later, but I want to finish my thoughts, to spell out some kind of plan of how to get through this fog of an aging American grandmother caught in the economic crunch.

     This week at work, my group of men, many years of prison and jail between them, rebelled and I, aging grandmother that I am had to play the “heavy” and lay down the rules. It was, and is exhausting to hear the complaints, to experience the anger, the drama, and hold the line steady.  Many of them I’m sure are working through unresolved family of origin issues. Others are quite blunt with the fact they hate authority of any kind, and I am in a role of authority. I pray, seek God’s patience, God’s grace and try to accept them for who they are. To be kind, after they have been unkind. Sometimes, it’s impossible not to wonder if all this trying to change them helps in the long run.  In graduation, I gave a speech that called them to consider their connection with God. To look at the disconnect with their spiritual side as an indicator that unless fixed the journey towards chaos would continue, with jail, prison or death as the final destination.  One man came up to me afterwards and said he liked what I said. Will he try to implement any of the ideas in his own life? Only God knows.

     Somewhat like me and this convoluted working after 60 experience, my rose bushes are confused and are putting out their tender new shoots, unaware much winter is still upon us. They will freeze over in the next storm and try again the next few sunny days. My dogs, laying in the sun on the back deck are enjoying the sun also. They’re not worried I’ll forget to feed them but are in the moment. They are simple and trusting, and not anxious about the future. Do I want to be like them, oblivious to possible realities good and bad and blissfully ignorant? 

  No of course not, but I would like to take a page out of the pages of faith journal and write my name and life across the pages in bold strokes of a confident believer. At this very moment, I confess I’m enjoying the sun but still waiting for the clouds to come. I will continue to pray, read my Bible and moment by moment place my feet on the path as revealed, that moment, that day. Something will happened, good or bad and the tension will cease. That is a promise in the Bible that He never gives us more than we can bear, that sorrow only last for a night, and joy will finally come in the morning.

     Today, now, I am safe and I have food. I have clothes to wear and a place to live. I am rich. I will count my blessings and let go of those things and situations which I cannot control or change. Much like the child who struggled to swim only to discover floating; I am struggling to survive until I finally, thoroughly understand faith.

To each of you struggling with your own mountains and trials, look up; God is still on the throne and prayer changes things. Be blessed.