GRIEF & MUSIC

GRIEF & MUSIC

Decluttering has a way of unearthing more than just dust bunnies, doesn't it? Sorting through my music collection this weekend unexpectedly led me down a path of reflection on grief and its peculiar relationship with music.

It's remarkable how the songs we once cherished, the soundtrack to our shared experiences, now resonate with such profound, altered meaning.

Those love songs, in particular, have taken on a new dimension. Listening to them now isn't simply a matter of enjoying familiar melodies; it’s a journey of rediscovery, unearthing layers of emotion I never fully appreciated before.

The bittersweet ache of longing, the exquisite pain of remembrance—these are feelings I hadn't associated with these songs until now.

Grief has woven itself into the very fabric of these musical memories, transforming them into something deeply personal and poignant.

I’d never considered music to be such a vital component of the grieving process, yet it's become an essential lifeline, a fluctuating emotional compass guiding me through this turbulent landscape.

Sometimes, it offers solace, a gentle balm to soothe the raw edges of my sorrow. A sweet escape into a world of shared memories and emotions.

At other times, however, it serves as a poignant reminder, a bittersweet echo of the love we shared, of the life we lived together. It's a paradoxical connection – simultaneously painful and deeply comforting. Almost as if the music is a tangible thread, delicately binding me to the beautiful memories we created together.

This has sparked a curious question: is grief merely a profoundly intense manifestation of love? If so, then are all those seemingly joyful love songs, in actuality, veiled laments, songs of loss and longing?

Songs like "Here, There, and Everywhere" You perfectly encapsulate this duality – simultaneously brimming with joy and steeped in a heartbreaking poignancy. That yearning, that powerful, aching desire for someone's presence, whether they are physically present or lost to us, it resonates so intensely.

Music, in its capacity to evoke such intense emotions, helps me feel intimately connected to him, even in his absence. It’s a powerful tool for navigating grief, but it isn't without its challenges.

Certain songs, still too fresh, trigger an overwhelming flood of raw emotions. At the same time, there’s a strange beauty in this cathartic experience, in allowing myself to feel this healthy, yet intense emotional turmoil. It's a chaotic, messy journey; an emotional rollercoaster that grief inevitably dictates.

It's a strange and beautiful paradox, isn't it? This entanglement of love, loss, and the power of music to help us navigate the complexities of grief.

NEW BEGINNINGS

"EVERY NEW BEGINNING COMES FROM SOME OTHER BEGINNINGS END."

The transition to my new home has been nothing short of transformative.

Downsizing has brought an unexpected peace. The smaller space requires less cleaning, freeing up time and energy.

More importantly, it's a sanctuary, free from the painful memories associated with my late husband.

This new beginning has allowed me to live within my means, a significant relief, and to finally create a space that truly reflects my personality – a feminine, ambient, charming condo named, The Marriott, overflowing with love and laughter. It's a dream come true where your visit will exceed your expectations as you enter.

The journey wasn't easy. Decluttering took a few short months (4), a process of letting go of possessions tied to the past and embracing a simpler life.

It was a necessary shedding of the old to make room for the new. The previous home, while adequate, was simply too much to manage – both financially and physically. The extensive yard work proved overwhelming.

Eight months now into this new chapter, I find myself in a place of unexpected serenity and peace.

Leaving behind cherished memories, dreams, and plans was incredibly difficult.

But for those of us navigating significant life changes, sometimes a fresh start is essential for financial stability and a more manageable lifestyle.

The peace I've found is profound and something I never anticipated. The Marriott isn't just a condo; it's a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the surprising capacity for joy that can emerge even from the deepest sorrow.

Grief is a complex and unpredictable journey, and I've learned that sometimes, the greatest healing comes from embracing change and creating a space for new beginnings. ~rjs

EXPLORING CONTENTMENT

Exploring Contentment: A Journey of Faith and Acceptance

A recent conversation with a friend sparked a reflection on contentment – a concept we often strive for, yet sometimes eludes us. While gratitude for life's significant blessings is paramount, it's the smaller, everyday occurrences that frequently challenge our sense of peace. This isn't a failure; it's a common human experience. The question becomes: how do we cultivate contentment amidst life's complexities, particularly during challenging seasons?

The passage of time brings inevitable changes. The years between 70 and 80, for example, can present unique obstacles, especially for widows. Physical health concerns, the loss of loved ones, and the increasing anxieties of children are all realities. These aren't necessarily "golden years" in the traditional sense, but they can be profoundly meaningful. The key lies in shifting our perspective.

Instead of clinging to past achievements or present status, we can choose to embrace vulnerability. Widowhood, aging, and even the challenges of caring for loved ones with Alzheimer's can expose our weaknesses, but they also offer opportunities for profound spiritual growth. We can find solace not in avoiding these challenges, but in surrendering to God's strength and grace. Interestingly, those living with Alzheimer's often exhibit a remarkable present-moment awareness, a type of contentment that stems from a release of anxieties about the future.

Elisabeth Elliot wisely stated, "The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances." This resonates deeply with Paul's words in Philippians 4:11-14: "I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength." This isn't about making lemonade from lemons; it's about finding strength in weakness, recognizing God's grace as sufficient in every situation.

The concept of contentment is further illuminated in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10. Paul's experience teaches us that boasting in our weaknesses allows the power of Christ to shine through. His contentment wasn't born from a lack of hardship, but from a deep understanding of God's unwavering grace. This perspective allows us to appreciate the simple blessings – food and clothing – not merely as necessities, but as gifts to be cherished. True contentment, then, isn't about accumulating more, but about finding joy in what we have, recognizing that our deepest satisfaction comes not from material possessions, but from our relationship with God. The journey towards contentment is a continuous process of faith, surrender, and a conscious choice to focus on God's provision, rather than our own perceived limitations. pjs

BECKY'S REVISED PROFILE

MY PROFILE--updated & revised

My spiritual journey began at the age of seven, a moment indelibly etched in my memory. Kneeling on the cold concrete floor beside a steel bunk bed, a child's heart embraced faith, a decision as profound as it was simple. This was the genesis of my relationship with God, a path less traveled, echoing Robert Frost's famous lines: "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference."

Reflecting on my life, I'm struck by the transformative power of seemingly unfortunate events. What once appeared as setbacks have shaped me into the person I am today, a journey still unfolding. YES, STILL UNFOLDING!

 Alexander Maclaren's words resonate deeply: "Each of us may be sure that if God sends us on stony paths He will provide us with strong shoes, and He does not send us out on any journey for which He does not equip us well."

God's timing, while sometimes perplexing, has always been purposeful. He propelled me from the familiar nest, perhaps sooner than I anticipated, but He equipped me well. 

He didn't send me forth unprepared, vulnerable, or ill-equipped. Instead, He provided the unwavering support of His Word, the guidance of a devout teacher, and the profound peace that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7). 

His presence, as promised in Exodus 33:14, became my constant companion. He armed me with the truth, a two-edged sword, and the comforting embrace of a merciful Father (2 Corinthians 1:3).

My journey has been punctuated by moments of joy and sorrow, times of solitude and companionship. The years spent pursuing my education away from my parents were often bittersweet, a blend of independence and longing. Each experience, each challenge, has contributed to the rich tapestry of my life, strengthening my faith and deepening my understanding of God's unwavering love and guidance.

My childhood in Mexico was a vibrant mix of exhilarating adventures and terrifying mishaps. The landscape itself – the trails, hillsides, and sprawling rainforests – fueled a spirit of boundless exploration. I reveled in the outdoors, finding indoor confinement torturous, except during the welcome respite of rainy days. Yet, this adventurous spirit often led me into trouble.

One rainy afternoon, around the age of ten, I disregarded my mother's warnings and ventured out to gather branches from castor bean trees. My plan was to fashion them into flutes. The slippery slope proved treacherous; I slipped, and the machete I carried sliced across three fingers of my right hand. This injury marred the start of my school year, forcing me to rely heavily on oral participation – a far from ideal situation.

My first year of school in 1955 is etched in my memory. My journey began with a grueling 22-hour trip with my father in our Willy Jeep, a journey complicated by Hurricanes Hilda and Janet, which ravaged the Gulf Coast of Mexico. Flooded rivers interrupted our travel, forcing my father to leave me with another missionary family while he continued the journey. Six weeks later, I finally arrived by airplane, landing on a makeshift airstrip in a cow pasture, with no one there to greet us. My formal schooling began in October in a one-room schoolhouse with only five other students.

My adventures, however, continued beyond the classroom. At about eight years old, I got hopelessly lost in the vast rainforest surrounding the home where school was held. Ignoring the instructions of an older friend, I took a shortcut that led me far astray. The fear of being lost was overwhelming, but eventually, I found my way back. Overcome with relief and fear of the consequences, I hid under the bed, silently celebrating my safe return.

Another incident, around the age of ten, involved a baking mishap. I was allowed to use the butane-powered stove and oven unsupervised to bake a cake. The stove required a match to ignite the burners and oven. After lighting the oven, I noticed it wasn't heating up. I opened the oven door, smelled gas, but foolishly attempted to relight it without first clearing the gas. The resulting explosion singed my face, hands, and arms, leaving burns on the back of my fingers.

Reflecting on those and other experiences, I recognize the remarkable protection and grace that guided me through these perilous moments. Each incident, though frightening, shaped my understanding of risk, responsibility, and the unwavering presence of God. 

My Mexico  life, though cherished, ended with a bittersweet farewell. The year was 1962, and I was embarking on a new chapter – another year of school, this time thousands of miles away in Oregon. 

My brother and I, accompanied by our father, boarded a bus for the long journey to the US border. The reunion with relatives there marked a transition from the familiar warmth of home to the uncertainty of a new life in Salem Oregon , where we would live with our paternal grandparents. 

Leaving my mother, sister, and younger brothers behind was a profound loss, especially given the lack of homeschooling options at the time.

That year prior to leaving Mexico,  also marked a significant spiritual milestone. At thirteen, I was baptized in the Sempoala River – a river aptly named for its many bends, mirroring the twists and turns my life had taken and was about to take. Being baptised was a powerful moment of faith, preceded a period of intense challenges.  It was when my real spiritual growth began.

The transition to American public middle school was jarring. I faced relentless bullying and ridicule, while my brother struggled with debilitating migraines. 

My grandmother, a woman of unwavering faith despite her limited formal education, became my anchor. Her unwavering support, prayers, and godly influence provided solace during a difficult time. Her presence offered a refuge from the harsh realities of school, fostering a deep connection that shaped my understanding of caregiving. The insecurity I felt amidst my peers solidified a nascent desire to nurture and support others.

High school offered some respite. Attending a Christian school for two years provided a more supportive environment, though the daily school rituals remained a source of anxiety. The long drive home on the bus offered a much-needed decompression period. 

Academics remained a struggle; while I applied myself diligently, I consistently fell short of achieving high grades. English was my saving grace, and my brother's assistance in science and math classes was invaluable. 

My physical development lagged behind my peers, contributing to feelings of insecurity, inadequacy and self-consciousness. Yet, my grandmother's love and my growing faith provided a steadfast foundation. 

Our attendance at the Salem Christian & Missionary Alliance Church further strengthened my spiritual life, anchoring me amidst the emotional turmoil of adolescence. God's Word became an unwavering source of comfort and guidance during a period of significant personal growth and adaptation.

I do not recall the reasons for my next move however, I embraced it with a stoic attitude.  Again, I packed my meager belongings.  This move found me in Springfield, Ore. in the home of an uncle and aunt with three young girl cousins.
  Here I attended my senior year at a public school, however, I was much more prepared as well as having three good friends from church to share experiences with.  I found myself caught up in the many activities of a young person, losing some of my fervor for spiritual things.  It was difficult to find a quiet place to nurture what I did have.

 It was here that I was introduced to living with the mentally challenged and stressed-out parents. The kitchen became my friend and it was here that I experimented with meals as the rest of the family struggled to cope with daily living.    

For two years I assisted the family as well as completing my senior year of high school and later taking classes at Lane Community College in Eugene to transfer later to a Bible College.
 A childhood friend had been killed in a car accident around this time just upon graduating.  This incident spurred me on to renew my spiritual commitment.    The Lord led me to Multnomah School Of The Bible (Multnomah University now) 
 The next four years were spiritually exhilarating, emotionally devastating and physically exhausting.  The demands on my life sent me on a roller coaster of emotions and mental exercises I had never experienced before.
 I had just come from a summer of working at the Alliance Convalescent Hospital in Glendale, Ca. as a nurses aide where I had just got my on-the-job training.  I recall with horror of some of those first experiences.   Upon returning to school, I secured another job, at The Manor, also as an aide, juggling classes and work.


For a time, I reveled in the fact that I was engaged to a wonderful man or so I thought and began making plans for the future.  On Thanksgiving Day, 1970, he broke that promise. . 

I was completely devastated and an emotional wreck, however, these were times that I had to totally depend on God to help me work through this time, at times doubting the validity of my relationship with Him.  I had many dark days and it took all effort to stay out of depression. (I go into detail about these dark days on my blog)
 

I immersed myself in my studies and pressed on to graduation that same year.  I had also quit my job at The Manor due to some difficulties.  God in his graciousness opened up an opportunity to live-in and help take care of a lady with Alzheimer's.   When that ended, I was provided another position as a companion for an elderly lady not far from the school.   God continually proved that He was providing for me and taking care of me in a way I had never been cared for before and this was to continue till the present.  Jehovah Jirah, the Lord provides...

My move to Southern California in July 1972 marked a significant turning point. Leaving behind the challenges of the previous year, my sister and I embarked on a new chapter, filled with optimism and the promise of fresh beginnings. We settled into a charming apartment in Glendale, a location that would soon be overshadowed by the burgeoning Glendale Galleria. I secured a position as an aide at Broadview Convalescent Hospital, a role that provided stability while I explored my new surroundings.

My involvement with the Church of the Open Door proved transformative. Through connections made there, I was introduced to Gospel Recordings, a ministry where an uncle and aunt were on staff. 

A summer internship blossomed into a two-decade career, where I contributed to their shipping and ordering department. This period wasn't just about work; it was where I met my future husband. Our journey wasn't without its challenges; a temporary separation preceded our eventual marriage on December 13, 1975, at Montecito Park Union Church.

Our early married life was humble, beginning in a modest home in a Los Angeles back alley. A year later, we discovered Grace Community Church, a vibrant congregation that quickly became our spiritual home. We purchased a house just a mile away, raising four children – three daughters and a son – within its walls. The joy of home births and homeschooling filled our days. Tragically, we experienced the profound sorrow of losing three of our children to miscarriage.

In September 1994, I transitioned my ministry focus, joining the staff at Grace Community Church to work in the nursery, primarily caring for two-year-olds. This role, punctuated by periods of rest, had become a significant part of my life 

. It represents a continuation of my commitment to service and faith, reflecting the growth and evolution of my journey since that initial move to Southern California.

My experience in home care in 2002 profoundly shaped my understanding of the challenges and rewards of the profession. A friend's request led me to a three-month position that proved to be the most demanding and humbling of my career. The work involved a wide range of tasks, from the mundane – meticulously cleaning artificial flowers and plumping pillows – to the unexpectedly complex, such as learning the nuances of organic cooking and creating what became known as “Stephanie Stew,” a recipe born from the unique demands of the situation.

The emotional toll, however, was significant. My employer's constant criticisms and unrealistic expectations, often expressed with biting remarks about my perceived shortcomings as a caregiver, left me feeling deeply undervalued. Her frequent complaints about cleanliness, even after repeated attempts to meet her standards, pushed me to my limits. I recall one particularly difficult day when, after being berated for a third time over re-washing dishes, I found solace only in prayer. Her disparaging comments about missionaries, suggesting they were lazy and only interested in soliciting funds, were particularly jarring given the selfless nature of my work.

The situation was further complicated by her constant reminders that I was merely her maid and servant. One particularly memorable task involved preparing large Tibetan carpets for visitors, a task that brought to light her unsettling experience witnessing children using her table cloths and curtains as tissues in Nepal. 

Despite my best efforts, her dissatisfaction remained unwavering. She frequently threatened to replace me, and despite my initial commitment to a six-month stay, I ultimately gave a two-weeks' notice due to the ongoing emotional distress. Even then, she pleaded for me to stay, highlighting the intensity of the situation. 

Our parting was acrimonious, marked by accusations of betrayal and a harsh judgment of my character. The finality of leaving, symbolized by the forceful disposal of her trash, served as a powerful emotional release.  I took comfort in hearing the thump as it landed 7 stories below.

The experience, while intensely difficult, provided invaluable lessons. Following this, I transitioned to a position with a friend who suffered from arthritis. This role was considerably more positive, primarily focused on domestic tasks and, of course, requests for my now-famous Care Giving Stew. However, emerging health concerns forced me to end this position after four months. This led to a temporary break from senior caregiving, during which I was on staff in our church nursery, allowing me time for reflection and recovery. The entire experience underscored the profound emotional and physical demands of caregiving, while also highlighting the importance of establishing clear boundaries and self-care in such roles.

My journey as a caregiver continued on May 4, 2006, when I embarked on a deeply rewarding, albeit challenging, path of caring for the woman I affectionately called "My Lady." Her battle with Alzheimer's disease profoundly impacted our lives. 

As her needs intensified, I left my position in childcare at church to dedicate myself fully to her care for five years—five years that remained the most significant and profoundly moving of my caregiving experiences. (Further details on my experiences with My Lady can be found on my blog),

Following My Lady's passing, I returned to my part-time role at the church nursery and took on a respite care position with an agency, providing support for a gentleman facing developmental challenges of Alzheimers for seven months. This was followed by a three-week period assisting a woman recovering from knee replacement surgery.

Subsequently, my husband and I had the privilege of providing care for Gary Price whose needs we addressed twice a week, and occasionally more frequently. (Sadly, Gary is no longer with us.) Due to personal health concerns and a desire to refocus my energies, I  concluded my work at the church nursery. While my formal role had ended , continued offering occasional assistance. My commitment to supporting others remains strong; I continue to actively participate in the church's Alzheimer's ministry and contribute to the encouragement of those who attend. 

Another significant chapter began when my 90 plus father moved in with us. Providing him with the care he required was a source of immense joy and fulfillment. (With deep sorrow, I share that my father passed away after three and a half years with us.) 

Reflecting on my experiences, I've come to understand the universal need for respite care—both for those providing and receiving it. The importance of utilizing respite time effectively, for both physical and mental rejuvenation, cannot be overstated.  My prayer is always for guidance in choosing beneficial activities during those periods, ensuring that they truly serve to restore and refresh mind and body. 

I find solace and strength in the promise of renewed strength and clarity.  rjs

BECKYs DAY OUT

Every once in awhile, we take ourselves out to look around and notice. To others, we perhaps act a little peculiar as we enter with fantasies of the past, present, and future.

Perhaps it originated with Alice in Wonderland or the wardrobe portal to Narnia that I get sucked into an amazing array of a surprising world of itself at the mall, the world of things that don't matter any more.

Being the person that I am, I take time to appreciate my surroundings and take it all in.

Summer has definitely come to a close and the change is noticeable.  

So we did a walk-around to escape the chilling, whipping wind outside and ducked into one of the local malls.

It had been several years of entering and like Rip Van Winkle I woke up to some of the peculiarities and subtle changes.

We noticed a few familiar things and others to stop and Hmmm...about, strange and previously unknown.  We spied unexpected little tidbits of present mall and a quick chance to explore the trappings beyond the portal we had just entered.

It all began with the anticipation at the sight of the escalator.  The decision, 'Do we go up or down?'  My mind races as I envision what sights I may encounter.  What kind of things was I to stumble upon?

Emotions were on over load as my other half trailed behind me, a good sport to entering into my world of capturing memories, today.  I was on a mission to take in as many sights as possible as well as to log in as many steps as possible.

  None of the fountains were on to give a sense of calmness.

Our wondering eyes spied Annies (It had weathered the times) and we both knew we just had to have some of those cinnamon sugar pretzel nuggets.

 The price for those delectable sweets shook us to the core, the giddiness was tempered down, the guilt for having spent so much took some of the fun out of it.  My other half slowly counted out eight dollars for that one cup of nuggets.

However, we pressed on to discover other things.  The magical realm of the mall began to take place.  The ice cream shop offered free samples.

JC Penneys beckoned.  An incredible sight of Christmas lined shelf after shelf as if there would be no tomorrow.

I inadvertently ran into Daniella, the cut out.  As I walked past her, she started talking.

The modern version of the photo booth amused me.  With all the cell phones around to take selfies and photoshopping I thought it a little redundant.

Another thing that caught my attention on several counters and doors were a new version of "Closed for lunch or closed, be back in 20 min."

They said, "Closed for Prayer...".  So that got me to thinking, what kind of prayers were being said and for what, our nation?, for those who have lost loved ones in recent times?

On the way out, I happened to notice Tablet strollers, yes Tablet strollers.  Upon closer looking, to keep toddlers busy while shopping.  Each stroller has a tablet.  I did no investigation to determine the rental cost of these. 

Such was my adventure at the mall.

"TURNING THE CORNER"

 I just finished watching the 2023 Rose Parade awhile ago.  I could not help but feel that there was just something very different about this years parade.  Of course we say that every year but seriously there was a different vibe about it, an unexplainable feeling.

After an unprecedented past two years due to the "pandemic" and political turmoil, and no parade last year, I thought the theme "Turning the Corner" a nod to new beginnings, a nod to unprecedented events, a nod to unbelievable events.

“The 2023 theme celebrates turning a corner. Whether that corner is actual or figurative like the unlimited potential that each new year brings — we all enjoy the opportunity of a fresh start,” explained Tournament of Roses President Amy Wainscott. “Turning a corner means rising above – alone, or with family, friends and community. This year, as we turn the corner together, we share in the hope, beauty and joy of what 2023 will bring.”

WWG1WGA

The Buhos Marching Band and dancers from Veracruz, Mexico caught my eye capturing a depiction of one of the most fascinating wonders of nature, the Monarch butterfly migration in Mexico.

Very creative costumes.

Thousands of parade-goers watch confetti fall while Tanya Tucker performs with the Mansion Entertainment Group float during the 2023 Rose Parade.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

However, what surprised me the most was that our "liberal" blue state allowed country singer, Tanya Tucker to sing with back up choir from Pasadena First, AME church for the grand finale.

That song, “Ready as I’ll Never Be,” a very personalized ballad about watching the next generation up pass on, is a heart-tugger.

Another poignant, emotional, bittersweet part of the parade was the beautiful tribute and tearjerker to see the Riderless Black Horse in honor of the slain Riverside Deputy Isaiah Cordero, who was killed last week during a traffic stop.

Parade-goers get a predawn view of the Rose Parade as it makes its way down Orange Grove Boulevard in Pasadena.(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Care Giver~Maid~Housekeeper

I arrived at my care giving post. An inward fight took place with in me.

A dilemma was facing me. I stood there looking, not at the clean dishes but the many dishes after a week end of entertaining that had gone without washing since the last time I had been there. It appeared as if every dish, utensils, pots, pans, were sitting everywhere, some half filled with water and others left hardened with food morsels stuck in and around them as they piled up with in each other.

I stood there for a moment, stared at the pile in the sink.

I inwardly cried at what needed to be done. I wanted it to be done. I walked past them secretly wanting them to disappear with the wave of a wand.

The worst part of it all, it was not only the dishes but tackling the mold in the shower, and other heavy housework.

I ironed sheets, pillow cases, and clothing items. It was at that point, I felt more like a maid than a care giver.

Very little time was devoted to caring. So you can imagine what sort of conversation took place in my mind. House cleaning is not what I signed up for when I considered my profession. No disrespect to the maid or housekeeper industry either but when hiring a care giver are they really looking for daily maid service?

Without going into the many details of some of the chores I have had to do, the most rewarding times in care giving moments where taking un rushed walks, Dr. , or shopping, and generally doing things that directly impact the patient such as enhancing their lives with activities.

My heart was always in caregiving, however, the housekeeping business hourly rate is much higher than care giving. Just kidding but maybe I should have changed professions.

Fortunately, I have had a few positions where the family told me, that I was a caregiver first, and any housework would be light and in between care giving responsibilities.

SURROUNDINGS

"We are never without beauty in this world—never without displays of splendor. We are never without beauty because God’s divine fingerprints are impressed on all he has made. We are never without beauty because we live in a world carefully crafted by the one who is himself beautiful, who is himself Beauty." ~Challies

Look at Your Surroundings

 I always get joy out of reading the Anne of Green Gable series and watching the made for TV series.

I have often thought of how she saw beauty in everything.  She often chattered endlessly about ordinary sights that most people skip.  Each moment in her life was a source of wonder and joy.

She constantly saw joy in the world around her.  I often now in my later years resonate with those very things that made her joyful and see them as gifts from our generous Father. (James 1:17)

The Rural Road

The mountains, the rainforest, an incredible beautiful place to live, yet in my immature world and myopic vision, I failed to notice.  I was unaware of it past my resolve to survive.  I was severely hampered   Even when I got my first pair of glasses at age three and beyond were the hidden gems I had ignored and the places of peaceful refuge, I now seek and notice.

Each year, the fog coincided  with times spent at home after spending a considerable time at boarding school while other times I looked across the valley below from our home on the mountain side pondering the distance to the village below with the prominent bell tower of the Catholic Church and bell ringing out the hour. (Just like Heidi)

The decisions I have made beyond those years have led in unexpected directions. (blog). As wonderful as Oregon was and the destain I had for Southern California, there were certain elements I left behind, the delicious berry pies and peach cobbler my grandmother used to make.

Those teen years, I lived with my grandparents were wonderful and rewarding, yet full of the early year struggles that would become the foundations, the beginnings of my life race in the US.

As a participant in this race called life, I am often reminded of the  ways God has sustained me as I continue forward in this journey.

It wasn't for me to seek the easy way but the more rural back road.

Many of Gods provisions came along at the points of life when I needed them.  (Not enumerating them here, however, they are interspersed in my many other blogs.)

Sharing life through writing has its vulnerabilities, delights of not only for me but my readers, however, with it come risks of rejection and criticism.  I have never thought my  writings in terms of a paycheck or even a book eventually. (to big of a job)

In college, I took journalism and was submitting articles to the school newspaper for a brief time.  The stress of deadlines eventually delegated any future writing to journals and blogs for the pleasure it derived.  (the AD support ministry newsletter for a time)

Blessings

One of the blessings of retirement and as an empty nester are the long stretches of uninterrupted/quiet time with random interruptions.  This status has allowed me to linger over Scripture  and continue to reflect on life.

Lately, I have been dazzled by some amazing beauties in Gods world around me, particularly in my immediate neighborhood.

The shifting clouds and gradient colors in the sky

Aug.14 

Look Until You See...

"Open my eyes, that I may behold

wondrous things out of your law." ~Psalm 119:18

"{The Lord} will NEVER LEAVE you nor FORSAKE you.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged"  ~Deut. 31:8. Gods presence is with me.

The words from a favorite poem/song came to mind this morning from one of my favorite poets, Annie Johnson Flint

1. God has not promised skies always blue,
   Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
   God has not promised sun without rain,
   Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.
   • Refrain:
     But God has promised strength for the day,
     Rest for the labor, light for the way,
     Grace for the trials, help from above,
     Unfailing kindness, undying love.
2. God has not promised we shall not know
   Toil and temptation, trouble and woe;
   He has not told us we shall not bear
   Many a burden, many a care.
3. God has not promised smooth roads and wide,
   Swift, easy travel, needing no guide;
   Never a mountain rocky and steep,
   Never a river turbid and deep.

GOD'S PRESENCE IS WITH ME!!!!

Aug. 15

I awoke early this morning with the expectation that today was a feeling good day.  After a night of wandering in my dreams, disoriented, and confused, always attempting to reach the perfect spot to take that perfect shot.  I laid there ready to greet another day in August.  "I wrap myself in still and quiet.", as my dreams appear to be in a state of flux or so it seems also for in real time of these days.

I observe the subtle changes of life around me, remarkable changes as memory takes me back to the brink of my adulthood and some of  those same feelings I had back then. August has always been a hot month and the month of my birth.  I wonder what remarkable changes will occur this month, not only in my body of which I would like to unmark but in the world around me and our nation as a whole.

"You are a God who sees me."  ~marveled Hagar

My other thoughts today:

• Have I reread books?  Of course I have and they are usually my favorite ones that have had in impact on me like Little Women, Anne of Green Gables, Heidi, Trusting God, etc. etc etc.
• However, the Scriptures have had the most impact for even the basic reason that they provide joy, comfort, encouragement, encourages faith, helps fight sin, and tells me more about God.

This mornings quote, because I love quotes on rereading:

"We build on the previous readings and have weathered different life experiences to preceive things I didn't before."  Notice different things each time.

II Peter 3:1. "I am stirring up your sincere mind by way of reminder."

STRAY THOUGHTS

Am I a Mary or a Martha?

II Tim.3:14-17. Q: Continue in what?  A: The things I have learned since childhood.

What am I gleaning?  and from where?

When I began reading the Bible in early life and at the brink of adulthood, it was my life line.  It still is my life line, when I grab hold of it.

• "When I left Queen's my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, but I'm going to believe that the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla."~Anne
• "Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive--it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we know all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there?" ~Anne
• 
  

BEAR & RABBIT~filling my empty cup.

In the early morning hours

before the sun's quite up

I wrap myself in still and quiet

and fill my empty cup.

#selfcare #rabbit #goodmorning

©Tara Shannon, 2020

“I want to be heard.” said Rabbit.

“Why doesn’t everyone hear me?”

“Because their heads are already full of judgements and ideas about you.” said Bear. “It’s not that they can’t hear you,

it’s that they don’t want to.”

“Should I try saying things in a different way?” asked Rabbit.

“No.” said Bear. “Say things as you always have. Those who matter hear you loud and clear, even when you say nothing at all.”

©Tara Shannon, 2021

"We often look at clouds, hoping that they'll soon pass," said Bear, "and they will... but before they do, watch them."

"Why?" asked Rabbit.

"Because like everything in nature, in life, they have a story to tell." said Bear. "Stories that are being forgotten."

"Like what?" asked Rabbit.

"The ever changing story of the earth and sky." said Bear. "They reveal their expressions and moods and predict the future."

"Magic..." said Rabbit.

"Yes." said Bear.

"...and when there are no clouds in the sky?" asked Rabbit.

"Look to the sun, moon and stars." said Bear.

"...and if one looks like a balloon?' asked Rabbit.

"Grab hold of its string," said Bear, "and let your imagination soar."

©Tara Shannon

"My life is so boring and ordinary." said Rabbit.

"How so?" asked Bear.

"It's the same thing every day."

"... You mean you wake up and see the sun rise, eat some clover, watch the birds and butterflies fly about, and fall asleep beneath the moon and stars?" asked Bear.

"Yes." said Rabbit.

"That sounds like no ordinary magic to me." said Bear.

©Tara Shannon

“What are you doing?” asked Bear.

“Practicing my smile.” said Rabbit.

“A smile can hide a lot of scars...” said Bear, “don’t hide them.”

“Why?” asked Rabbit.

“Our greatest strength comes from our scars,” said Bear, “they let others know it’s possible to heal.”

©Tara Shannon, 2021

“When I sleep,” said Rabbit, “I soar among the stars.”

“Are you following your dreams?” asked Bear.

No…” said Rabbit, “I’m chasing memories.”

©Tara Shannon, 2021

“Sometimes I think I’ll never fit in.” said Rabbit.

“Maybe you’re not meant to fit in.” said Bear. “Maybe you’re meant to stand out.”

©Tara Shannon, 2021