P.R.A.Y.E.R

9/19/10 Yellowed. Tattered. Torn. Taped. Still relevant. “Religion in Life” section of a 1953 Clarksville Leaf Chronicle was wedged in my grandmother's

Bible. I knew it was old before I saw the date, not because of it’s outward condition but because of the grocery advertisement. Libbys potted meet 2 cans 17¢. (only old people eat that, according to my kids) Heinz Soups 2 cans 35¢. (Do they even make soups anymore?) Ad is outdated but info is still viable.

The article in brief: Consider each letter of prayer as an acrostic.

P raise---saying thanks and acknowledging God’s blessings first.

R eunion---coming together of God’s Spirit with man’s spirit, conscious contact or communion with God. That union is vital.

A sking---making known your requests without making God a glorified Santa Claus.

Y ield---yourself to God for His direction/answers that His name will be glorified through you.

E ntreaty---plead on behalf of others.

R elief—when you pray forgiveness comes, burdens are lifted and loads are lighter to bear.

Prayer is not artful monologue

Of voice uplifted from the sod.

It is Love’s tender dialogue

Between the soul and God. John Moreland.

PURSUIT OF THE SUIT

9/17/10 How can one lose a swimsuit between home and work? It was dark at 5:10 a.m. when I left for work having thrown it in the trunk. (I thought it went in the trunk.) It was dark when I arrived because the parking lot lights are out. Swimsuit should have still been in the trunk when I retrieved other items to take in to school----including a sack of food for an injured teacher. So why wasn’t it there when I went to swim.

Backtracking at home---no swimsuit. Backtracking through dark lot this morning---no swimsuit. How do I approach “lost and found” and ask if anyone has turned in a size 34, black speedo? Angie suggested that I might have accidentally put it in with the food and it had been delivered to the ailing teacher. Lisa G. thought maybe she saw it on the construction barrel in  front of L.R.'s house on Houston Levee. Lisa D assumes the ailing friend, who has a pool, will just see it as a gift. Others laughed---a lot! I was mortified.

Ecclesiastes 3 says, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:……………….

4 a time to weep (I was mortified) and a time to laugh, 
(others were laughing) a time to mourn (the loss of my mind along with my swimsuit) and a time to dance, (and celebrate friendships of people who accept you as you are and laugh with you, not at you)

After all, it’s Friday and there are more important things to pursue than a lost swimsuit.

ATTENTION WAL-MART CUSTOMERS…..

9/15/10 ……or was it K-MART customers. Regardless, we’ve all heard those blaring announcements. “Clean-up on aisle 3.” There is a difference in a store that keeps current with clean-ups---much like AA Step # 4 ---where you take a daily inventory of “oops” in your life. That way the AA messy/dirty parts are kept in check lending to the overall “clean” presentation.

The Hopkinsville Wal-Mart makes that “clean-up” announcement almost every time I’m in the store. It is reflected in the overall tidiness of the store----unlike a Wal-Mart we visited in southeast Memphis one Sunday night. That Wal-Mart had merchandise strewn on shelves & some had fallen off bottom shelves into the aisles. Customers just stepped over stuff, even cracked eggs. I felt dirty and somewhat fearful just being in the store. I never found what I came for either because I was so distracted by the mess. I had trouble staying focused on what I needed.

We need to keep our “dirt” in check as well and be willing to clean–up as we go through-out our day----it’s called confession. If you don’t do it daily, join me weekly on “Weeping Wednesdays” and own up to your sins. Coming clean (true repentance) feels so good. Others will see it in our demeanor. That will get everyone’s attention in a good way----just like a “clean up on aisle 3.”

If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (I John 1:8-9)

We all have an “aisle” that needs cleaning up today. I know that I do. I’ve already made prayerful plans to clean it up.

POWER FAILURE

9/13/10 Have you ever lost your power? Better yet, has a male member of your household ever lost power to “cable TV” on a Saturday when college football games are back to back and the Fed Ex Cup is in phase 2? This past Saturday while trying to help a neighbor, hubby was attempting to retrieve his own S video cord (those red, white and yellow audio visual thingies) to share with said neighbor. He no longer needed that cord for his Comcast connection. Oops, something went wrong. Everything on hubby's BIG screen TV went blank. He was not happy.

#1 rule of thumb is to always “check your connections!” You have to determine your power source. Are you plugged in?

I thought of that this morning when I was struggling for strength to get out of bed. Was I plugged in to my Source? I felt disconnected. I blamed fatigue and weakness from ongoing sinus infection. I needed His strength, His power and yet I felt guilty asking. Last weeks Psalm 71 said to “declare His strength to this generation and His power to all who come.” Why is it easier to ask for His power when battling cancer than when battling fatigue from sinusitis, which this morning felt equally debilitating? He gives power in all areas----just check out your concordance.

HHS Student Impact’s sign for club week, Roman 1:16, speaks of His all important power. Today, I plan to think on that power---the one for today, tomorrow and always.

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.

Happiness: a viewpoint or just an illusion

9/11/10 This morning’s Commercial Appeal “M” section featured the upcoming Central Gardens home tour. It brought back one of my all time top memories---taking the tour with Josh the weekend before my 50th birthday. On the gorgeous mahogany table in one of the homes was a collection of hinged, porcelain/enamel limoges-type boxes. One was encircled with books and had a Wordsworth quote on it. Larry and I had just been to Wordsworth’s home in the Lake District of England the summer before. Josh must have registered my fascination from afar---I certainly never touched the box. Just days later it was my birthday gift from Larry and one of my most unforgettable. He really had to do some searching (Babcocks, probably) to find the exact one and then dig deep in his pockets to purchase it, I’m sure.

I continue to love those home tours---it’s like a sneak peek at the kind of houses I once assumed I would live in when I grew up. Not sure where I got that false assumption. Maybe all little girls have it. A 2 story home with the nice yard, big windows, hardwood floors, fireplaces and comfy dens----with a wrap around porch and a swing thrown in for good measure.
Even now as an adult when I walk around my neighborhood at dusk, I love to see the “glowing” rooms of others’ homes through their nice clean windows. It feels like a peek at happiness. And often my pleasure turns to something similar to regret because I’m ashamed that if someone could even see through my less than squeaky clean windows, they would see dishes piled in my sink. I just don’t seem to have it as all together as those who live in the “big houses.”

Shakespeare phrases it well. “But oh, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes.” (As You Like It Act 5, scene 2)

Even I have “taught” others an important truth----never compare your insides with someone else’s outsides. It seems I need some re-teaching in this area myself.

And you do as well if you peek at the “squeaky clean windows” of my blog and assume I have something which you don’t have. If we all have the Lord, we’re on level ground----make that holy ground. There’s no place else I’d rather be.

150 flavors addendum

9/8/10 An ice cream blog entry isn’t exactly spiritual though I do have friends who deem eating ice cream as an experience pretty close to a spiritual encounter. Believe it or not, ice cream is not one of my weaknesses. However, as I’ve said before, pursuing those “must” lists or “best” lists are an exciting challenge for me. The most recent one included USA Today’s top ice cream parlors in the “150 flavors” blog entry.

Larry and I stopped this past weekend to verify the Tennessee winner, the Casey Jones Ice Cream Parlor in Jackson, TN. In my opinion, it wasn’t worth the drive.
(Even though they do serve bottles of Bubble Up and Nu-Grape.)



Save gas money and go to Jerry’s Snow Cones and Car Wash on Wells Station in Memphis.













Order a wedding cake “Supreme”---soft serve ice cream mixed into a snow cone. This ice cream treat is definitely worth the drive though your flavor choice might differ. (Hubby likes the coconut.)
Go early if you go on a weekend. The lines are long and it closes at 9 p.m.

For years, Jerry's was owned by an older couple, introduced to us by our son Josh. I loved the sign that Mrs. Clifton, in her pink and white striped apron, placed in the window--- “Closed on Sunday so that you may attend the church of your choice.” Mrs. Clifton has gone on to glory but the new owner has abided by her stipulations and they remain closed on Sundays.

The Cliftons were a couple who made ice cream a spiritual experience----they served God’s love with each order. That kind of life should top God’s list!

order.

Monday Medicine

9/6/10 The elephant that was sitting on my head has moved to my chest. A rhinoceros has invaded my “good” nostril. I feel like yuck. It is Monday---Labor Day Monday and I feel that meditating will require real labor. But….it is Monday and Monday is always for meditating. Besides, I have 150 flavors of psalms to choose from so it should be easy to find one for an ailing lady.

Psalm 71 came to mind again.

“…..Thou art my strong refuge,…..my mouth is filled with Thy praise….Do not cast me off in the time of old age; do not forsake me when my strength fails.”

…..right neighborly thing to do.

9/5/10 A right neighborly thing to do was the phrase that Daddy once used when an unknown "neighbor" left tomatoes on his front porch with an unsigned note. The note simply said, “Enjoy with your daughter.” He used it in 2001 to describe Thelma bringing bread to us after Mother died. Yesterday he used that phrase to describe Miss Ann driving Nello to the doctor. Nello, suffering with macular degeneration, could no longer see well enough to drive. Daddy probably used the adjective, right, to mean somewhat. To me it was an adjective that described acts that were correct and morally good---acts that all God-fearing neighbors should emulate. A "right neighborly thing to do" is a manifestation of the “golden rule”---a “do unto others” mentality that comes straight from scripture.

And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise. (Luke 6:31, KJV)

Even if the acts aren’t reciprocal, acts of kindness are still a “right neighborly thing to do.” All of us should go and do likewise.

“What right neighborly thing have I done lately” is what I’m asking myself. Better yet, I should ask, "What right neighborly thing can I do today?"

A WALK CONTINUED……….

9/4/10 ……………………….for 33 years. In 1977, Daddy was told that he was border-line diabetic and that he needed to watch his diet and to exercise. He did just that. No questions asked. He followed doctor’s orders.
Daddy is DISCIPLINE in all caps. He has also persevered and that says a lot. Most of us are good for the short haul. It’s the long haul that gets us. Scripture supports Daddy’s lifestyle----admonishing us not to grow weary in doing what is good for others. Yet, it’s our own health that enables us to do that very thing. In Romans 12: 5 God’s word restates that tribulation brings about perseverance and perseverance, proven character.

This past year has seen a real change in Daddy’s 88 year-old body so he no longer walks at the mall. He no longer walks as far or as briskly---but he still walks. He has even fallen once on his neighborhood walk so he’s being more careful with his “wheeled” walker. He still laces up his Nikes and puts on his Kentucky hat. (His blood runs blue.) He even stops to chat with the neighbors, though he tells me when he leaves he can’t remember who they are. He’s having to learn to enjoy the moments for what they are.

Meditating on Psalm 71 had me somewhat prepared for my time with Daddy this weekend. I am his next generation and yet it was already my turn to give back to him---to remind him that he will not be cast off in old age or be forsaken when his strength fails. God never forsakes and sometimes he uses others to be his hands and feet. I am unimaginably grateful for brothers who share the privilege of helping Daddy age well. It’s still hard to say good-by and I have knots in my stomach when I leave him. Yet, I know that even from afar, I can help him continue his spiritual walk as we share our Upper Room* devotions. It’s the Methodist way---the walk he knows. I want to continue that walk with him.

*Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interest of others. (Philippians 2:4, Upper Room 2/4/10)

Fluid Motion

9/3/10 FAT BLOG VERSION

Writing and Dancing. Both are at their peak as fluid motion. In the verb form, both require action. This morning I’m a little sluggish on the “action” aspect of life and there is certainly no “fluid” in my motion. I’m drained dry. Of course, Zyrtec exacerbates the “dry” part.

Writing, for me, tends to be a vent for suppressed/repressed emotions. Just the act of writing is freeing. Even the smooth flowing of an ink pen can help enhance the experience. (I still have a pen from the 60s that takes a cartridge.) Dancing on the other hand provides an outlet for pent up muscles and “stove-up” joints---or any other “crunked up” (friend Pam’s word) parts of this aging carcass. Not sure how graceful or fluid the movements are at this season of life.

I’m sure there is an exact scientific definition for fluid motion somewhere out in cyber space but for me it’s just my way of connecting writing and dancing. Writing is like dancing---alike at the point when “grace” in the action becomes smoother and more flowing---a result of practice. Practice = action. Movement. Words just seem to float around in my brain but when I let them out through my fingertips, there comes for me a focus---a pared down focus that helps me shape and clarify truth. That’s why I blog. It’s really for me. Readers just get to peek over my shoulder---a partial read, of sorts.

There are bloggers galore and who’s got time for all their words? Therefore, though writing is therapeutic for me, I’m working on paring down blog entries. There’s a skill in that---like poetry--- saying the most with fewest words. I teach that skill to HHS students but am having trouble following my own instructions.

Even scripture had to be pared down---more affirmation that I should follow suit. In John 21:25 we’re told not only of all the many things that Christ did well but…..

“If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.”

Signing off for today---trying not to crowd cyberspace---

SKINNY BLOG VERSION

Trying to make blog entries pithier while still allowing for fluid motion. It’s hard work. I need to practice, practice, practice.