Tag: God’s Plan

Early Spring Wind

April 5, 2016

The spring wind roars over the ever-grey high desert that waits for just the right amount of warmth and moisture to bloom. By gale forces the desert floor is being swept clean to prepare for a new season of life. As long as there is snow on the mountain peaks there will be wind in the warmer valleys below. This old cycle highlights the relationship between the alpine mountains of Colorado and the high desert plateau of New Mexico. This is early spring in the divide between winter-time- grey and the new green that is beginning to fill the river valleys as life-giving snow-pack in the Rockies begins to melt. The rest of the desert remains subdued until the summer monsoon. All animal life of the Northwest Plateau depends on the strength of the Rocky Mountain winter and the snow-pack that fills the rivers and streams.

I am involved in an old romance with New Mexico sunny days beneath a rapidly changing vault of blue sky. I am still enchanted with rosy sun rises and peachy sunsets. I am blessed to watch the Bald Eagle soar over the river, hear the Night-Hawks speak, and be entertained by the bickering drama of the Magpie. As I write, the deer who allow me to share their ancient home-land are just outside my window nibbling on the newly sprouted lilies they believe I planted as tribute to them. They huddle close to the house seeking shelter from the wind, knowing there’s no one here who will harm them. This is home.

I love the Cedar and sage covered hills, the Elm and Cottonwood filled valleys. The ever-changing landscape that undulates from masculine, rugged mesas and cliffs to soft, round mountains and hills that still excite my artistic eye. The utter silence of the desert is the most beautiful sound in the world. Alone in those silent places, it is impossible not to hear God speak. Left with no place to run or hide from self, in the desert one must make peace. This is my Father’s world and in it I’ve been given a place.

Here I am Lord at the foot of your mountains, the source of life giving waters. Here you have hidden me, in the cleft of the Rock, in the midst of a dry thirsty land. Make me ever mindful of your blessings. Help me trust you more, even as the gritty wind roars. As you prepare the desert, prepare my heart for a new season of life.

The Cost

April 1, 2016

I’m not a perfect Christian and I won’t pretend to be. In fact, there is nothing more anti-Christ in spirit than an exclusive, pretentious Christianity that upholds a false holiness. I sin less often than when I first believed but I still struggle with sin and I will continue in this battle with my sin until I pass from this world. The good news is that after I die, my war with sin will be over and I will enter eternity free from sin. None of this is due to my self efforts but to Jesus who bought forgiveness for my sins by giving His life for mine. Any victory I’ve won in self-control has come by surrender and obedience to God and not by my own strength. Before I knew Jesus, I lived to sin but when Jesus became the center of my life, I died to sin and began to live for Him. Jesus put a new desire in my heart, that of wanting to please God and I am no longer driven only, to satisfy myself. The inner conflict this created isn’t pleasant and each victory over my sin requires a death to self. Jesus died to set me free of the penalty of sin (the second death) and I in return, die to my selfish desire daily, in order to live for Him. When I falter and give in to my old ways, He forgives me, heals me, and sends me back into battle. Nothing about this process is appealing to a world driven toward achieving temporal perfection. I’m not a good Jesus sales-person for those seeking to package a more modern Jesus who promises to give people all that their hearts desire in the here and now. Serving the Jesus I know and love, the Jesus of the Bible, comes at a cost and delayed gratification in the world to come is the prize for which I contend.

I regret no sin habit I’ve left behind for Jesus. I’m more than grateful to be free of the drugs I used as a young person. I don’t miss cigarettes or alcohol. I am eternally thankful for all the dysfunctional behaviors God has helped me correct and the inner healing that only the Bible can give. I’m happy that I learned to live within my means, remain faithful to my husband, and live a quiet life. Trading my sin for values that work is the greatest blessing of my life but I know all these blessings will pale in comparison to living in a world free from sin. The thought of my complete transformation into the likeness of Christ is more than my mind can fully comprehend but I do love to try to envision it. The amazing thing is that the more I die to myself the closer I come to being the woman God originally, designed me to be. With each wrong-headed desire I give up, I find greater happiness and increased joy.

I know these words I write seem a bit crazy to those from a Darwinist, secular viewpoint but I’m old enough now that I don’t care about speaking anything but that which I’ve come to know as true. There is no hope in this secular culture, not even for those who are among the fittest. Our world seems to be becoming crueler each day and the most repugnant cruelties are hidden beneath a veneer of politically correct words and outright fear. Children suffer the most in this world because they are the weakest among us. They are murdered in the womb as a means of birth control much more often than to save a mother’s life but abortion is the sanitizing term applied no matter the reason. The more powerful mother has all legal protection and the weaker child has none. Children are abused by parents and bought and sold for sexual pleasure at alarming rates but little of it is even reported. Old people are next in line for abuse in this culture, where equality must be earned. The ageing must remain young for as long as possible to retain viability. Women must become more like men, men have to be more in touch with their feminine side, and children must be more adult-like in a world where equality is gauged in equal outcomes. The more the world tries to make everyone the same the more heartless and dysfunctional it becomes. Everyone is trying to earn status as one of the elite fittest but the reality is all are victims of inequality and abuse. I see insanity in the world and find sanity in Jesus. God loves all of His children despite their sin and all have equal value in Jesus no matter how diverse or lacking in power. Human life matters in God’s economy but in the world, human life is valued less every day.

Accepting Christ into my heart and making Him the Lord of my life was the most important decision I ever made. My faith isn’t magic. Faith is better than magic because it is based upon divine truth and not any sleight of hand. When I opened my mind in belief and Jesus entered, I became a spiritual person, a new creature in Christ. I received new life and a new beginning. My attitude changed and I found the guidance I needed in the Bible to transform my lifestyle from unhealthy to healthy. I received the strength needed to correct my dysfunctional behaviors and world view. Jesus turned my upside down world right side up. Without Him, I would die in my sin and carry that sin with me into eternity. I would never know anything but cruelty. Because of Jesus I know the unconditional love of my Heavenly Father even though I presently, remain in a cruel world. I will not die in my sin. I will die once and be free from sin to live eternally in Christ. What I have received from Jesus is available to all. My hope and prayer for anyone, who reads this testimony and is tired of their sin, will open their hearts in faith to receive Jesus and His gift of eternal life. He doesn’t promise to make you rich, famous, or powerful but He will give you a new desire for God that leads to a future free from your sin.

John 12: 23-26

 

The Recluse (Part VIIII)

March 25, 2016

Estelle’s eyes open as the sun peeks over the horizon sending a beam of light to warm her face. As she stirs, Caravana also, rises from his nesting place in the crook of her knees and stretches arching his back. Estelle lifts herself on one elbow and reaches to stroke her faithful companion as she has for so many years. Her old Tom is getting up in cat-years and she wonders how much longer he will remain with her. Then she remembers what day it is and feels an unfamiliar surge of happiness as she realizes that Alisha will be coming for their art-time together. She looks at the clock and then jumps out of bed to get ready. As she dresses, her thoughts are focused on the lesson she’s planned for today and hopes Alisha will enjoy learning about texture. It is one of Estelle’s favorite aspects of creating drawings and paintings, as she is a deep thinker who loves to lose herself in intricate details. She is excited about sharing this love with little Alisha, who has become so dear to her.

Estelle is sitting on her back patio enjoying a breakfast of yogurt and nuts when the doorbell rings. She doesn’t stop to consider that the usual feelings of dread that generally accompany that chime have been replaced with joyful anticipation. Instead, she simply reacts to it by setting her bowl down and walking briskly to the front door. She pauses for a moment to smooth her hair and straighten her mint-green summer dress before opening the door. Before she is able to say anything, an exuberant Alisha rushes in chattering like a brook in early spring. “Good morning, Ms. Williams! I’m here! Did you miss me? Look…Momma and I made Biscochitos again and I brought some for desert!” Alisha hands Estelle a plate covered with a clean dish towel. The cookies were still warm and smelled wonderful. It was tempting to have them for breakfast but Estelle thought about Alisha and didn’t want to teach her such decadence. “Thank you, sweetheart! I’ll put them in the kitchen and we will enjoy them after our lunch. Follow me. It’s such a lovely morning that I thought I’d have you help me weed my flower beds today.” A month ago, such a suggestion would have caused Alisha’s nose to curl but she loved spending time with Ms. Williams and her attitude toward chores was changing. “I’ve never pulled weeds before. How do I tell which are the weeds and which are the flowers?” Estelle puts on her favorite gardening hat while handing another, with a pair of gloves to Alisha. “Well actually, a weed is only a plant growing where a human being doesn’t want it to grow…so, a gardener must learn to identify the wanted plants and remove the unwanted plants. In my garden, I sometimes allow plants to grow that others call weeds.” Estelle and Alisha laugh together at this very eccentric remark, as Estelle leads the way to the back fence where the older woman and little girl lose themselves in identifying plants by their leaves and blossoms. Each nurtures the other while accomplishing the task of nurturing Estelle’s flower garden.

Lunch passes in a pleasant blur and as Alisha clears the dishes, Estelle gathers the art supplies for the project she’s planned. Their new relationship has established a flowing rhythm and Alisha seldom has to be reminded to help. She’s also, found a new source of accomplishment in completing tasks on her own rather than manipulating someone else into doing them for her.

“What are we going to do today, Ms. Williams?” Estelle finishes laying out large sheets of paper, oil pastels, charcoal, colored pencils, and markers. “We’re going to learn about texture. The most important thing about being an artist is learning how to see. We’ve learned a lot about the outer or contour lines that form shapes. Now, we’re going to learn about the inner lines that bring those shapes to life.” Alisha is amazed by Estelle and listens eagerly. “Here are crayons and charcoal. First, I want you to take a piece of paper and one of either, and then we will go around the garden and take rubbings.” Soon Alisha is caught up in examining the patterns of bark, leaves, rocks, bricks and seeing all of them in a way she’s never noticed before. After forty minutes or so, Estelle calls her back to the patio. “Now Alisha, we’re going to draw the rubbings we’ve found on another piece of paper and use these textures to create a finished work. Let’s divide our papers into measured squares and then fill them with colorful textures to create a quilt effect. I think your mother will love it.” A dream-like warmth envelopes teacher and student as both lose themselves in creativity. Alisha has learned and is learning so many new things in these happy hours and delights in the wonder of nature as it translates itself through her onto her paper. She watches Estelle’s expert hands closely and strives to imitate every move. Her teacher in turn feels an almost, overwhelming relief as knowledge and experience kept too long to herself flows outward into the mind and heart of another. Sharing her art in this way gives her a new passion for her art.

“Do you like church Alisha?” Estelle suddenly asks. “Well…you know, it’s just something we always do. Mom and Dad care a lot about me going. I like the other children and my Sunday School teacher. I don’t like listening to the preaching very much but Momma says that’s because I haven’t made my choice yet.” Estelle’s curiosity was peaked. She’d never heard anything about a choice and thought people were taught certain traditions in church and their choices about belief were made for them. “What choice, Alisha?” “Oh…you know about Jesus. Whether I want to follow Him. Who I really think He is. Right now, I just listen to what the grown-ups say. Sometimes, I think I believe in Him and sometimes, I think I don’t. Do you believe in Jesus Ms. Williams?” Estelle was caught off guard by this question. She didn’t want to answer in a way that would undermine Alisha’s training but believing in Jesus wasn’t something she’d ever given much thought to. “I’ve never gone to church, Alisha. I don’t know if I really know who Jesus was or is or….” “That’s okay, Ms. Williams. If you’d like you can come with us and see what it’s like. Momma says everyone has to make their choice. I don’t know how you can do that if you don’t know about Jesus.” Go to church? Now, that was an unexpected proposition. “Well…I can’t invite myself, Alisha. I don’t want to impose on your parents.” Alisha quickly reassures her mentor, “Oh Ms. Williams, I’d love to have you come! The children’s choir will be singing next Sunday and you can watch me. Please come? Momma would love it!” Now, Estelle felt she had no escape and there was something irresistible pushing her toward acceptance but out of a habit of erecting barriers she replies, “Well, if your mother invites me, I’ll go.” Alisha’s smile brightened, “She’ll call you tomorrow!”

Neither Estelle nor Alisha notice the storm clouds building until large, cold, drops of rain begin beating down. They rush to gather their art work and move inside. Estelle also, feels a bit rushed as if her life is moving rapidly in an unknown direction but she mostly, just feels happy. The two of them put the unfinished artwork away to be completed when they meet again. Estelle gives Alisha her umbrella and watches until she enters her front door. She sighs contentedly, as this saffron day comes to a close. Caravana weaves in an out of her ankles, enjoying his mistress’s new state of mind. Estelle picks him up for a cuddle then carries him to her office where she immerses herself in work.

To be continued.

For previous posts in this series go to https://joyindestructible.com/the-recluse-series/ . Posts are listed in ascending order.

 

My Consequence and My Pardon

March 23, 2016

I am a sinner saved by grace and in this present world, I will never be anything else. That doesn’t mean that the grace I’ve received is a cloak for evil. My profession of faith isn’t a ticket to sin without punishment. What I do avoid by my acceptance of Christ is what the Bible describes as the “second death”. I believe in Judgment Day and on that Day the pardon I’ve received through faith in Jesus will keep me safe from the final death of spirit and soul that I and all human beings deserve. Jesus didn’t die to make me a moral person. Jesus died to give me and anyone else who will accept it, eternal life. Jesus died in order to reunite God and man. Faith in Jesus isn’t a matter of morality. It is a matter of life or death. However, I am changed by having Jesus at the center of my life and my desire to sin is diminished by my greater desire to please God. The gift of eternal life is a morally transforming gift.

As a sinner saved by grace, I still suffer the consequences when I sin. Those consequences are natural and inescapable. No one is able to break God’s Law and avoid what those wrong actions create even if they escape human punishment. I have been sick for the better part of forty years now, due to a serious sin I committed against myself as a teenager. I have changed my life since then and there are those who love me and think that God is being very unfair toward me in allowing me to suffer for a mistake I made as a child. I know that if God hadn’t intervened in my life, I never would have been able to change my life, and I would most likely be dead, forever separated from God. My illness is simply the natural consequence attached to my sin and part of my cross to bear. Others doubt my faith or think I suffer needlessly because my faith is weak but my faith doesn’t come from me. It too is a gift from God and the consequences I endure prove the durability of my precious gift. Without Christ, I would be a physically broken bitter old woman. With Christ, I am a physically broken joyful old woman. All that should have embittered me has taught me empathy and opened many doors into the lives of others that enable me to share God’s love and comfort with my fellow, suffering sinners. The consequence of my foolish actions keeps me humble and in a position that allows God to work through me more effectively. I endure because I know ultimately, my healing is coming. Because Jesus died for me, I will physically die only once, and I will rise again to live with Him in a better world.

As a sinner saved by grace, I also suffer as a result of the sins of others. In fact, some of those sins are what drove me, as a child, to use drugs. However, I am still accountable for my actions as those who hurt me are accountable for theirs. The sin I committed against myself hurt me, hurt the people who loved me, hurt the people who love me now, and most of all hurt my Heavenly Father. My sin put Jesus on the cross and His physical sacrifice made it possible for me to be granted forgiveness from God. In the same way, I a sinner must forgive those who sinned against me. That doesn’t mean they will accept my forgiveness by taking responsibility for their actions. I can’t do their part of restoring our relationship. I can’t force what even God doesn’t force upon others. It does mean that I pardon them just as in Christ I am pardoned. I am unable to do this on my own but because Jesus lives in me by faith, the Holy Spirit enables me to do what is humanly impossible.

This is what the cross means personally, to me. I know it sounds very foolish to most but that is the power and the ultimate wisdom of the cross of Christ. True foolishness is to reject the free gift of eternal life by denying the price Jesus paid to obtain it and then offer it freely to all who will believe. True foolishness is to deny the fallen state of mankind and our need for God. We can never be Him and will only die trying. My prayer during this time of year when the world considers the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus is that eyes and hearts will be opened to realize the need for salvation found only, at the foot of the cross of Christ. Please, accept your pardon today.

 

 

Midnight Halls

March 21, 2016

All night long, I walk the vast halls of worry, that deep circular labyrinth within my mind.

This is my vain, desperate attempt to find a way to prevent more pain.

The thoughts kept at bay during the busyness of daylight, band together against me at midnight.

Each breach of faith brings a surge of hot pain from the belly into my throat to startle me wide awake!

Helplessly, I pray and ask God yet again, to take this years-old heartache away…

But somehow and for some reason I can’t comprehend, He’s left that choice in the hands of another.

I search for hope even though those I love most and want to protect seem doomed to disaster.

Trusting God is the only way to escape anxiety’s trap of despair but I can’t pull trust out of thin air!

Father, what I need most I just don’t have! It just isn’t there! It isn’t in me!

Please Father, give me the security I must have to close my eyes in this dreadful world and sleep.

Let your peace over-ride my lucidity; help me look above and beyond the past-current-future threat…

Keep my dear ones safe, change their tumultuous hearts, don’t take them too far from me…

Hear this mother’s worry-prayer, though it be long, often repeated, and worn out…

Father, carry me by your Spirit’s tranquility and free me from midnight’s halls of worry!

 

 

 

 

 

Turn Back

March 9, 2016

I am an old fashioned girl, I guess.

Still a bit new to being an old lady;

I’ve lived long enough to see a few things.

I’ve learned a lot and I know what works,

And what doesn’t.

 

I remember many things that are now, forgotten.

 

I’m still quite taken with chivalry.

A man who offers me his coat when I’m cold,

Opens the car door for me.

He respected me enough to marry me,

Before I gave him a baby.

 

I still like that now discarded word, wholesome.

 

Values that stand the test of time;

Boundaries, manners, appropriate, even etiquette.

Masculine, feminine, equal but different.

Family formed to raise children,

“In the nurture and the admonition of the Lord”

 

“The hand that rocks the cradle rules the nation.”

 

A mother’s job is the most important.

Nurturing a stronger nation, shaping its leaders,

Reward more valuable than money:

Respect and families that stay together,

Bound by mother’s unconditional love.

 

“Wait in your room until your father comes home!”

 

The man who puts a roof over your head!

Food in your belly, clothes on your back; honor him!

Accept his strong discipline in healthy fear.

When you grow up be like him!

Work hard, take care of your family.

 

“Fashions come and go but the classics never go out of style.”

 

Yes, I’m old now and time softens the edges.

It wasn’t perfect back then, it wasn’t like Ozy and Harriet!

But everyone knew what was right and wrong.

In our high ideals there was consensus,

Truth was upheld, good wasn’t evil.

 

“When evil is exalted the innocent become prey.”

 

In this new century there is little desire for Truth.

Free morality held in by tight government regulations on everything else.

More government requires more taxes!

Working mothers can no longer rock the cradle.

Corrupt leaders rise; sociopaths, megalomaniacs!

 

God, they say is like me, old fashioned. They’ve removed the old landmarks.

Confusion is rampant and people are angry that America’s promise is gone.

While old ladies like me pray that America will turn back and bless God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Recluse (Part VII)

March 5, 2016

Alisha is wide awake a full half-hour before the time either of her parents usually, rouse each other to get ready for work. She can’t wait to get over to Ms. William’s house and gather more clues to solve “The Mystery of the Lone Lady” the mystery/fantasy game she created in her twelve-year-old mind and is obsessed with. The lines between fantasy and reality are as blurred in her thinking as her definition of person and object. At twelve, Alisha views life as a wonderful, exciting, movie unfolding before her and because of her inborn nature and the special status her parents have always given her, it is no stretch for her to place herself in the seat of movie director. Life in Alisha’s view is simply a matter of controlling the script and directing various personalities to move here or there and nudging them into her desired action. It has worked so well with her parents that she accepts it as her rightful station in life. Alisha manipulates with ease and without conscience but also, without malice. She is simply, a twelve-year-old girl who is as alone as the woman she’s become fascinated with and she is caught up in her imagination. She is only, playing a game and has no real feelings at all for Estelle.

Tony hears unusual rustling noises that are unusual for this time of morning. Being a vigilant protector, there is no hesitation as he jumps out of bed to investigate the source. Following the intrusive sounds, he finds Alisha dressed, polished, and pouring a bowl of cereal in the kitchen. “Mi jita! I never see you up this time of day! Que pasa? “ Alisha brightens when she sees her father and runs to him for a hug. “Oh! Hi Daddy! Didn’t Momma tell you? I’ve got a job! I’m going to be working at our neighbor’s house. You know, the lady next door who is alone all of the time? I’m going to do chores for her and she’s going to pay me with art lessons. Isn’t that great? You don’t have to worry about me being home alone, Ms. Williams won’t be alone, and I’ll be learning so many new things! Aren’t you proud of me, Daddy… mi papacito?” Tony could never be anything but proud of his daughter but he didn’t like the idea of his precious Alisha spending time with a woman he didn’t know. “No. Your mother said nothing and I’m not sure I want you spending time with a stranger.” Alisha notes the expected resistance and meets the challenge as she’s done so many times before with great success. “Oh….Daddy, she’s no stranger! She’s Ms. Williams our next door neighbor. You always say that we should love our neighbors. How can I show her the love of Jesus if I don’t spend time with her?” Tony thinks his daughter is amazing and melts into the familiar twisting around Alisha’s finger, as if into a warm hug. “Okay, you win but I want you to keep your Iphone with you at all times and call me if anything seems wrong! Call me anyway, every hour or so to check in and know this! If I don’t hear from you, I’ll do the calling, and if you don’t answer, I’ll be ringing the door bell!” Alisha placates her dad with more hugs, sweet kisses, her biggest Hershey eyes, and sparkling smiles. She scoots back into her room to wait for her parent’s departure and watches television as she waits for the clock to display 9:00 a.m.

******************

By 8:30 a.m., Estelle is up and dressed. She takes a few moments to inspect the dress she’s chosen, a burgundy-print, summer dress that hugs her slim body modestly and ends in a soft ruffle just at the knee. She loves the juxtaposition of an autumn color in a summer dress and also, notices how it sets off her green eyes. At forty-seven, her arms are still beautifully slender but she chooses to cover them with a sheer, white, summer shrug. She also, takes note of a few grey hairs at her temple and wonders how long it will take for all of her dark brown hair to fade. Estelle can’t deny that she is a beautiful woman or the fact that she longs to be loved by a man and even have children but she also, believes it a fallacy for her to indulge herself in such fantasies. She stiffens her back, straightens her dress and hair one last time, turns from the full-length mirror and then stops dead. “What have I done? Why? Uggghhh….but I’ve done it. Too late now!” Caravana jumps from Estelle’s bed with a concerned, “Meow?” and tries to comfort his mistress. Estelle bends down, scoops him up, and holds him close on her chest as she rubs her cheek on his. “My Caravana! You are the only man for me. Love of my life and my son too! Where would I be without you?” The old, white Tom jumps to the floor just as Estelle hears the door-bell ring.

Estelle walks curtly toward the front entryway, stops to straighten herself one last time, and breathing deep opens the door. “Hello, Ms. Williams! I’m here! I’m not late! Aren’t you glad to see me!” Estelle lets her breath out in a huge sigh and reservedly responds, “Good morning Miss Alisha. Yes, I’m glad you are on time. Please, follow me into the kitchen.” Alisha starts to skip but Estelle simply, stops moving; and with one green-eyed- hard-stare, Alisha’s skip stops and without missing a step, blends into the walk of a mannerly, young woman. “This is where I’d like you to start Alisha. These dishes in the sink need to be rinsed and placed in the dishwasher and the countertops wiped down. The supplies you need are under the sink. Surely, a girl your age knows how to do dishes? I have a few calls to make. I’ll be in my office and when I return, I expect this work to be done.” Alisha knows how to answer, no matter what she is really thinking inside. “Yes, Ma’am!” Then when Estelle leaves the room, Alisha looks at the mess and whispers her real feelings. “Ewwww…that’s not for me!” Alisha plops down at the breakfast bar and loses herself in her Iphone.

“Alisha? What are you doing? Why is my kitchen still dirty?” The little girl puts on a sad face and walks over to the sink in hopes of making herself appear small and helpless in comparison to the mess. “I tried Ms. Williams… but… I have this cut on my finger, see?” Alisha holds up a forefinger wrapped in a Band-Aid for a not-too-close inspection. “It stings so badly when it gets wet! I just can’t make myself do it!” Estelle’s hands land on her hips in exasperation and she starts to respond in the way most natural to her in such situations, by just doing the work herself. She takes another look at Alisha standing helplessly and petulantly beside the sink full of dirty dishes; and in a flash sees the image of another woman superimpose over Alisha. Suddenly, drunken Emma has taken Alisha’s place, with her favored Bourbon and Coke sloshing in her glass in one hand and a cigarette in another. In an echo across time Estelle hears the familiar, “I just can’t do this anymore, Estelle! Your mother wasn’t meant for this drudgery! If that dad of yours wasn’t so lame, I’d have the kind of life I was meant to live!” The visage of Emma wobbles, slurps, takes a drag and Estelle feels that old impulse to run and fill her mother’s need, do her work for her, and hope for approval in return.

“Ms. Williams? Are you alright?” Alisha with real concern for how weird Estelle is behaving asks. “Ugh. Yes, I’m fine… Alisha.” Estelle answers while also, adjusting to being here in 2016 and not back in 1986. She takes another look at the little girl and like a long-sought piece of a jig-saw puzzle falling into place, understands Emma in a way she never could see before. No wonder her mother never seemed to know she had arms and legs of her own. She never had to use them. Estelle took another look at Alisha and with a resolve that feels cathartic for herself and also right for Alisha coolly states, “Life is full of difficulty, Alisha. Sometimes, we have to work around our pain in order to fulfill our obligations. There are rubber gloves under the sink to protect your hurt finger but I expect you to finish your job.” Alisha is shocked by this kind of answer and feels anger rise but then quickly, squelches it when faced with the unmovable expression of Estelle. “Yes, Ma’am, I will.” Alisha opens the cabinet beneath the sink, dons the gloves, and goes straight to work. Estelle grabs a cup of coffee to sit, watch Alisha work, and try to understand what just happened. “What’s going on with me?” she thinks to herself. “How can this little girl stir up so much from the past?” Sipping slowly, she watches Alisha’s now concentrated effort in her kitchen. Such a beautiful child, so intelligent, with so much promise, a little girl on the cusp of adolescence not much different than she’d once been…or probably even, Emma. Beautiful Emma, the helpless Queen. Had she been doted on and coddled as she suspected Maria coddled Alisha?“ It might be part of it but surely, not all of it. Nothing, especially human beings, is that simple but still, people can only become what they have opportunity to become.” Estelle’s thoughts stop here because she doesn’t want to delve any deeper into the questions surrounding her development, her stilted becoming.

“Alisha! That looks wonderful, dear. I’m proud of you. Now, let’s go out back. We’ll have an early lunch and then I’ll teach you the basics of drawing.” Alisha first inspects her finished task and is surprised by an unusual feeling of accomplishment when she sees how nice everything looks. Then she falls into her old habit of needing to be in charge and complains, “But…I don’t like drawing. I thought we’d paint or do some sculpture! Something exciting besides, I can’t draw a straight line, my Daddy says so.” Estelle replies firmly, “No child, we will start with the basics and the basic when it comes to creating fine pieces of art is drawing. There are no straight lines in nature but I will show you how to draw a nearly, straight line by a simple technique. We will also, explore circles, ellipses, and learn to connect them with straight lines to form images. Drawing is no more difficult than making beautiful letters. You simply need to learn how to do it. If you want to draw dear, you can learn to draw.” For the third time in two hours Alisha responds with a respectful, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Estelle and Alisha dine on fresh cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches and lose themselves in happy chatter about Caravana, the flower garden, and all the beautiful birds. Alisha forgets all about solving “The Mystery of the Lone Lady” as she is beginning to see her neighbor through eyes of respect and as a real person rather than a make-believe character. Estelle also enjoys this warm moment in time, feeling her somber thoughts float on the warm summer breeze and the uncomplicated conversation of the delightful, young girl. They move seamlessly from a lovely lunch to drawing lessons and soon, Alisha is enraptured in discovering the magic of line, as this lesson begins to uncover her inborn creativity. Estelle feels an inner awakening in the connection of pupil and teacher, as she guides Alisha’s self-discover by her own talented thoughts and expert hands. Alisha’s finished pieces are a reflection that is partly herself but also, partly Estelle, her new teacher. They are the expression of a burgeoning relationship and each of them is filled with new happiness as they inspect them together.

The sun begins to dip and Estelle realizes that it’s time for Alisha to return home. They say their goodbye’s and agree that Alisha will return day-after-tomorrow as Estelle, holding a tired Caravana, closes the door and notices the silence reclaim her home, as she has never noticed it before. Again Estelle asks, “What is happening to me? What is going on here?”

To be continued.

See previous posts in this series at http://www.joyindestructible.com/the-recluse-series or simply visit my Home Page and look for the drop-down menu just under the Header. Click on “The Recluse Series” and find posts listed in ascending order.

The Choice

March 4, 2016

Jesus loves everyone yet, so few ever think to truly love Him in return. Most refuse to believe that such a man existed as the Son of God and the Son of Man. The idea seems impossible so, they downsize Jesus into a form they can relate to and understand. Prophet, teacher, a myth, philosophical allegories are the boxes spiritually blind human beings use as a neat place to categorize and store Jesus. Once packaged and labeled, He is then stuffed in back of a dark closet of the mind. Jesus becomes another file to pull up from memory to be used as self justification or to impress another with personal intellectual prowess. In those who are bitter toward God because they don’t approve of how He governs or are mad because He didn’t acquiesce to their personal requests, Jesus becomes a weapon of ridicule to use against those who name, Jesus and are known as His followers. Jesus Christ is a favorite curse word for those who in their anger of not getting what-they-want-their-way, deny the existence of God even though, their whole angry state of being and every word they speak against God and His Son, defines them. Still, Jesus loves them and views them as equal with all of God’s errant children. Many of the religiously pious also, miss out on recognizing the power of God’s love expressed to the uttermost in Jesus, the Son of God and the Son of Man. Priding themselves upon adherence to traditions and doctrines, they trade in the power of God for a form of godliness and their pride inhibits the power of God’s love from transforming their lives. Yet, Jesus loves them. Still others live out their lives by instinct, following the desires of their heart that can never fill what every heart hungers for, the filling of divine love. Jesus loves these children too. He gave His life for all of us in obedience to God, His Father and also, to all of God’s errant children, as an expression of pure, sacrificial love. He poured out His blood for the purpose of covering all of our error to give us the opportunity to reconcile with our Father by adoption through Christ that we might become like Jesus, sons of men and sons of God. Though Jesus made this sacrifice centuries ago, it still remains open for an unknown length of time but not forever. This offer is available to everyone because God plays no favorites and above all things: God honors the ability He gave us, to choose. Whatever any of us decide to believe about Jesus, or the place we give Him in our life is our personal, sovereign choice and no matter the consequences, God will not take that power of self away.

Look around you, look behind the present virtual-iron-curtain of delusion, and examine the true state of the world in which you are living. The world offers many things but it doesn’t offer love. It is a hard, cruel place that entices all with exciting, temporary pleasures that generally, come at the personal expense of self and others. The world created by human beings is vicious, a place where one will become either predator or prey, and the struggle to survive over-rides any happiness derived from material gain or personal power. Into such a world everyone of us in born and also in each of us, is a void that hungers for divine love. Instinctually, we know what we hunger for is the very ingredient missing that keeps the societies we build from becoming a paradise. This realization when we allow it and then couple it by looking within to see we are like the community we live in because it is of us and we too lack divine love and are possessed by a dark void. A hole, where love that goes beyond a warm feeling or a fragile, emotional bond is absent, a cavity in the soul that only divine love can completely fill. None of us can give the world what we don’t have and the only, way we can receive the love we hunger for and the world so desperately needs is to allow Jesus to come into our lives and be made complete. This doesn’t mean we will become instantaneously, perfect but when we are reconciled to a right relationship with God, when we are adopted into His family, a spiritual training process begins and though we remain human as the offspring of man, we also become the spiritual children of God. Choosing first to accept God’s divine love by accepting Jesus as the person He describes Himself to be and personally, applying his sacrifice is the first step in learning how to love as Jesus loves. Learning to love Him back is the process of living for Christ rather than for self and then, choosing to love others with the same kind of divine love we receive from Jesus in hopes that others who are hungering for love will also, invite Jesus into their lives.

I see turmoil increasing in the world around me and the specter of it causes even this old believer to sometimes, feel threatened. It seems darkness is descending and many are actually, calling for that descent. Angry ears are deaf to love but the night enveloping the world is the void that exists in every fallen human being; a gaping black hole that only divine love can fill. Jesus is the embodiment of divine love. None of us have the power to change or fix the world but each of us retains the power of personal choice. Jesus is the answer and He satisfies our great lack, one hungry heart at a time. If you are troubled, consumed by the turmoil without and within please, take a second look at Jesus. Read the Bible and consider who He says Himself to be and use the power God gave you to be saved from the gaping need within that only, Christ can fill. In a world that seems bent on self-destruction, choose Jesus; receive true love and eternal life.

The Door to Joy

March 2, 2016

Near the end of a harshly-cold, long, black night, when the explosion comes and personal worlds come crashing down. Everything known shattered and scattered lying on hard-packed ground. These moments are Death but the victims are left breathing to suffer the carnage. Wait for the morning light! Every ray that glints from each broken shard enlivens an old memory with the sorrow of loss. Grief’s overbearing moment, a debt payable only in defeated tears. A specified time to cry out to God in anger, then remorse, and finally repentance; cover the mournful head with dust and ashes, then submit, face into the wind and be made clean! Everything passes and none are able to hold onto the good or the bad, all things arrive and fade according to their pre-set season. The obedient bend to endure all seasons, the disobedient are broken; but neither achieves personal glory by their chosen effort. It’s not about us, it’s all about Him and all people before God are equal in value. Our individual days rise to fade as our dreams are formed to vanish in the same mist; as our lives blend to form the greater whole. This that we are a part of and have no hope to escape is beyond individual or collective understanding. To be human is have instinctual, conscious knowledge that is divine but hampered because we are carnal. Truth is something we know but can’t fully apprehend. Born to imitate the Creator, we seek to control, to bend, to build, to master, but night shortens our day; and the eternity we reach for remains beyond our grasp. Death descends and we suffer loss, again, and again, and again; until the final night falls…

There is but one way out of the futility called the Human Condition. Only, one Door by which all may enter to find life, hope, and freedom, along with the strength to rise up on weakened legs from the ashes to life overflowing into the eternal. It is open to all in every walk of life, to people of every gender, and every color who are willing to believe that Jesus is the Son of God and the Son of Man. To all who on their sad day of dust and ashes understand that He laid down His life to save them as they then, reach up and grasp the Mighty Hand reaching down to receive faith within that strong clasp. In that broken, dire moment when human wisdom is revealed as lacking, as foolish and all useful knowledge boils down to one Name: Jesus! The power to rise, live again, with a new purpose claimed. Though in this world there will still be Death to face every day ( with losses, suffering, and grief to bear) Jesus is the open Door into eternal life, with lasting purpose set beyond Death’s border. Though everything in this material life is broken, in Christ find seven-fold restoration for all kept by faith. Don’t refuse this gracious offer that costs nothing but the release of human pride. If you are mournful, grieving, and sorry, let it go and enter the Door to joy!

John 14:6 Jesus said to him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.

 

 

In a World of Wizards and Dragons

February 25, 2016

When the Wizards rise to power,

As men who favor magic set Nature’s God aside,

And beautiful horrible dragons fill the virtual skies!

Look but resist, don’t in fear cower;

Participate when you must, take the rest in stride;

Hold onto Truth, recognize deception and its lies.

 

“Drop your electronic device and move away from the windows!”

 

Shut it down, unplug, disengage, and go outside!

Welcome to this ancient world! Experience the joy and the pain!

Breathe deep in pleasured gasps, the air giving life to all the living.

The warm sun burns tender skin and man’s pride!

“Kiss the Son” while time remains, from virtual blindness refrain;

Don’t fear the dragon’s darkening in random smote so unforgiving,

Powered by fear, reprobate imagination to deride!

 

“Look up! Jesus is coming soon! Wash your mind in His Word and in Spirit pray!”

 

Don’t be overwhelmed by the Beast’s dazzling image!

Resist when they want to place a small chip inside your head, on your brain;

With the desire to govern over you, even through your inmost intimate thought.

If you must choose instead to be homeless, eat garbage,

Or die; Do this rather than surrender your eternal soul for only, temporary gain.

Soon this rising evil specter will vanish in its preset limit of which we’ve been taught.

Brother, remove your mind’s eye from this evil visage!

 

“Focus on Jesus, live in the real world. Take a walk, plant a garden, and hear the birds sing!”

 

Remember your children; Satan desires to devour them all!

Don’t allow them to live their childhood locked inside fantasy behind virtual walls!

Do they know that dragons aren’t real? Or that a sword in reality hurts and draws blood?

Mom! Dad! Take them outside, teach them to run and play ball!

Give them a puppy, a kitten, to hold, and to tend beyond the world of digital halls!

They need empathy now to ensure that the future they govern won’t end in a cruelty flood!

Show and teach them; Nature’s God is watching over all!

 

“Wizards and their dragons will vanish in the instant of a solar flare or crash of electronic grid.”

                                                                     Nature’s God Remains.