Writing projects are plentiful these days. The aftermath of thought on paper is felt every morning when I wake up. My hands are stiff, and every finger hurt. Stretching and massaging them each morning helps me through another day. Until the next…
Last evening, in closing my day, I sat down with a final cup of tea, then thought of Thanksgiving, just about a week away. My daughter will be spending this day with her in-laws. And, I’ve received several invitations. I’m flattered, but honestly, I want to just be…To be decorating the home for Christmas, to be writing out Christmas cards, walking the dogs, nibbling on tiny delights, napping if I choose to. You know, just to be with God. To say thank you for every moment of the day. For the old-time holiday ornaments, which bring tears to my eyes each year, the fresh greenery of the garland, designed for the front door, the white lights for the tree, watching holiday movies. All of it, and more.
These moments are foundational paths to the hope in me. They display the nature of my life, and how it is now, and will always be. Even in this bliss though, the weariness I experience in my observations of people who are exhausted themselves, trying to fit in, is sometimes troublesome. Occasionally I wonder why there are displays of intensity in this group on the path to be like others, and metaphorically speaking, follow people leading to nowhere. Perhaps, people put in place by the enemy, meant to persuasively guide them off a cliff. Hanging from the ledge for safety. Standing on rock formations contemplating strategies to climb back up. Falling right over into regret and utter despair. My heart aches…
Yes, these pensive observations and thoughts of why some fall for such traps are indeed, wearing for me. Yet, I know I am the gardener, farmer, Lumber Jane, carpenter, and plumber of everything I am. Consistently working on me. The help I offer to others who fall, is to be compassionate, caring, and to listen. All while living by example. When I mess up, I find it so freeing to apologize. It’s like new cells of growth in me. I feel this way too, with every bill I pay. In gratitude, I think back on the times right after my divorce where it was very difficult to make ends meet. I was married to a college football coach for goodness sake; therefore, my daughter and I shouldn’t have struggled, right? But, unfortunately we did.
Today is a different story. On my conservative budget, I help who I can help, with no expectations. I reach out to people as often as I can, with no expectations. I write letters and send cards to people I know, with no expectations. It’s good to be in this place where I follow my heart led by the teachings of Jesus. It’s so great to know I’m at peace when I choose to be alone on celebratory days, like Thanksgiving. In Jesus, great expectations and glad surprises are numerous. I welcome them. I share them with those who fall.
So now, to allow my hands a slight break from writing, it must hold a cup of warm tea. I’ll sit down for a few minutes allowing moments of meditative reflection to cover me. I can only allow these special times, because of the constant reminder that to stumble out of darkness, I must always hold the candlelight of hope. The light of Jesus (John 1:9), which guides me. The light within me that shines brightly to clear the way forward for those who hold on, stand on the side of impossibility, with the tenacity to climb back up.
This light shines with no expectations! His light in me is a gift to me with no expectations. How sweet the light I see! How great this light in me! The light filled with so much hope and generosity!
With all my love,