Sunday, October 30, 2016

I just want to be mad!

Wow. Ever feel that way?

This moring as I broke out my Sunday School lesson to read, it was all about a thing I have been putting up with for years.

I knew here lately I had been letting it get to me, but I really didn't realize what a festered sore it had became.

Just being transparent here. I tried to read the scripture text, picking it up, then putting it down. I didn't want to hear it. And to be matter of fact I kinda still don't. I pretended I didn't understand what it was saying, so I broke out the amplified version. Never should of done that for it was VERY clear there.

I couldn't even go on to the lesson. I grabbed my phone and headed straight for solitaire. I won't read it and I won't think about it, either.

You know, some times we have a little ant bite and it itches but we ignore it thinking it's no real problem, I mean it's just an ant bite.  Then one day we look down and think I really need to doctor that, but we are to busy. So we go on about our way.  Next thing we notice it's a little pusy, and we think when I get home, I'll take care of that, but we don't.

UNTIL that morning we wake up to find some red streaks. What was minor is now septic. We now have poison, disease traveling in our bloodstream, straight to the heart.

If we are smart, we'll head straight to the physician. Now, we have to get an injection, take some meds, pay a big bill, blah, blah, blah, on top of being in pain.

I've pretended to give the issue to God. At times even pretended it wasn't bothering me. Now this morning I wake to find a septic situation. Part of me doesn't even want to go to the physician. Someone has wronged me and I just want to be mad. Yet I realize, it has poisoned me.

Yet God....He is so sweet, kind, and gentle.

Please excuse, me while I head over to the physician to get this thing lanced. Oh I realize it's going to hurt, but if I don't I chance dieing from something that I should of let Him take care of a long time ago.


Saturday, October 29, 2016

What happened to your song?

"A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song."~Maya Angelo

What happened to your song?

Did you sing and no one sang back?

Maybe you sang and some one answered,  but in time their song became ugly and cruel?

Maybe you just got tired of singing in a world that stunk?

Maybe you find it hard to sing now because of mourning?

Why did you stop?

I remember a very happy place, no it wasn't a trouble free place. I worked ìn at a Wilderness School placement for girls (alot of heart breaking stories along with victories).  I was a young widow raising teens. I still had car trouble, bills, and life. No it wasn't trouble free, to say the least.

Yet, it was a very happy place. I was surrounded by a GREAT group of co-workers, in an office down deep in the piney woods of East Texas. Oh how I loved that job. The open atmosphere, the smell of cookies coming from the kitchen, the change in the seasons, the presence of God. What can I say,  I loved that place. Oh I already said that.

I often found myself in the office alone. While doing my duties I'd go about the empty rambling building singing with all my heart. I was full and I could not contain it.
I laugh as I think of a few times as I rounded the corner to find I wasn't as alone as I thought I was. I wasn't the only one who smelled cookies from the kitchen.

I remember one of these times that I ran right smack into the director. I was bellering to the top of my lungs, praise to my Jesus. uhoh, Boy was I embarrased.

But you know what? He actually complimented me on my singing (he must of been tone deaf). I apologized for bellering. He said he enjoyed it and told me to keep it up. He said, It encouraged him as he sat in his office (who'd of thunk it).

It wasn't long after that the school closed. I now find myself 15 years later.

Where is that song? What did I do with it? It must be here somewhere?

Promise to myself, not only to look for the song, but to find it.

Psalm 40:3 He put a new song in my mouth.....

Friday, October 28, 2016

Make me Blind, that I can see

1 Samuel 16:7

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or at his physical stature, because I have refused him. For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

God help me to look with your eyes.

I hear what my eyes tell me.
I look at a person's mannerisms, I look at the visible battle scars or soft lines, I see suits, blue jeans or tattered clothing. I see hair piled a mile high or hair that hasn't been combed in a while. I see tattoos and face piercings. I see cowboy boots and shirts with slogans. I hear what is coming out of a person's mouth, sweet words, harsh words, dominant conversation, and no words at all.

AND I FORM AN OPINION.

I fail to remember often what I see is a smoke screen, a shield. Often put up by that person to keep people like me from seeing what is real.

A person dominating the conversation because he must prove to you that he IS somebody. A person who doesn't speak because countless times no one has listened. That women dressed to the hilt because society told her if she did she would fit in, she would be part of the group. And the teen who appears un-kept because no one cares.

Oh God please help me become blind, that I may see deeper.