My Boring Marriage and other myths of the new millennium
We live in a day where there are so many exciting things to see and to experience. We live in the blinding speed of the internet and the microwave and the other means of transportation and communication that are ours to enjoy and to utilize. The speed of the development of communication and relationships remains constant: somewhat slow, in comparison to some modes and medium and somewhat fast in comparison to others. Where are we in the scheme of developing healthy friendships and sibling relationships and marriages, often requires more work and more observation than we are willing to put in. We are distracted and cumbered with much serving-{serving our lusts, often, but more-so, serving our modes of communication and transport} As Martha was{in scripture}. We are able to learn, if we take some time to sit at Jesus’ feet, as Mary did, to be discerning about the uses of the means that we have at our disposal.
As a result of the speed that our world turns, we can fall prey to swifter and sundry myths of life that can arrest us and cause us to live below our privilege as Saints of the Most High God. He has given us all things richly to enjoy. We needn’t put our heads in the sand and neglect the beauty and usefulness of the technological revolution, in order to live godly. Looking at the wonderful heritage of faith and history that we have at our disposal {that is afforded us to do, more conveniently, because of the technological age in which we live} we ought to learn to lead in our use of these means for the glory of God.
The Industrial Revolution, was a season of a similar tumult and problem. God has called the Church of the Living God to wrestle with problems of cultural and ethical import and bring captivity captive, if not in the entire world, in our hearts and in our homes.
I do pray, that our meditations of these things will mature us to learn the importance of the time taken for the basics of human communication and relating. That God would use us to usher others to understand the importance of these critical ingredients of mature human relating. in the name of Jesus, Amen.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Save Some Cheese Doodles for Grandma.
Save Some Cheese Doodles for Grandma
Last night was supposed to be the meteor shower. This makes me think of my grandma. I went back to Grandma’s house, just before the first meteor shower that I saw and that is why I think of her. She is always on my mind. The very dearest person to me, ever, was my Grandma Monica. I know that I will never meet anyone that outdoes her in my heart. God lent her to me and I asked Him so many times for just 5 more minutes to spend with her.
I broke Grand’s heart once, completely out of course. I just knew that Daddy had taught us, that you can love people, but there are certain people that we love that we must never, never emulate. Grandma was one of them. We were in a family party for some reason and everyone was there. I said something smart at 7 years old and Grandma Monica said, you are just like me. I said, no, no Grandma, I never want to be like you! I remember the tears. I remember the way they wisked me away from the scene of mayhem. I didn’t want to break my Grandma’s heart. I just was repeating the sentiments of my father. There was no way that I could know the depth of pain that I had inflicted.
This never daunted the love that we shared with each other. I loved Grandma, we shared birthdays together and she still considered me, her little birthday present. There was no reason. We had nothing in common, except the love we had for each other. She loved flowers and perfume and I loved spiders and dinosaur bones. She thought I was odd and I thought the same of her.
I will never forget the day that I told her that I would want to wear a tuxedo to the prom. Outlandish, we cannot have this. I was making no statement of affections for females, just for the antipathy of frills and such. Still, this antidisestablishmentarianism labeled me to her and got around to others. The talk of the family.
The fact that she missed my wedding by 3 days and persisted that we must go on without her, was mysterious to me. We had dreamed of this for our whole lives and here was I living on without her. I believe that when God changed my soul and picked me up, He heard my prayer for the 5 minutes with Grandma. He gave me more than that. He took me to the bottom of myself. My protected self, could never have seen the real Grandma, that Dad was protecting us from. A nervous breakdown, let me see my Grandma. Not in flesh to hug and talk to, as throughout life. I saw Grandma. I saw the desperate woman, who had to live and raise 2 children alone. I saw the woman who loved her children and grandchildren and lived through the Great Depression and vowed never to be that poor again. I saw the woman who traveled the world and I loved her all the more for what she had left us, in the many dollars that she had saved to give us. I saw the beauty of God’s heart to go after a soul, through many dangers, toils and snares and that, even through excommunication of the church, God will do more to save a soul. I think that God saved my Grandma, in the end. I love God, more, for letting me see her, really. I love my Grandma for encouraging me to go on into marriage to a love that she in life had never known. I love that God taught me that He is the inheritance that we are to labor toward. He saved the cheese doodles for me.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
The school of prayer is a dear place with God!
It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart. Ecc 7:2
We are in mourning at the loss of dear little Molly. This was not unexpected, because of her illness, but it is a painful time. I have observed your precious fellowship, holding oneanother up during this season of grief. You have held Molly's hand and Brianna's through the darkness of the valley of the shadow of death. That is the place where faith shines the brightest. The darkness of death, and especially the death of a child is so contrary to reason that faith is the only light of the goodness of God in the midst. I am grateful to have seen you learning the lessons that are so very hard and so very difficult. These lessons solidify your relationship with God and knowing that He does what He says. Yea, though you walk through the valley of the shadow...He will be with you. Know Him and love Him in the valley. Know Him and love Him in the shadows and He will be the light and grow you up in Him. Be comforted that we will see Molly again. She will not come to us, but we will go to her. xoxoxo
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Our family and the maternal women's interactions are often guilty of judging the character of a generation.
In the movie, The Family Way, {which I only saw this scene of} I smirked at the scene where John Mills and {I think} Marjorie Rhodes played the parents of a son, who was having early marriage problems. I thought only my maternalistic family was swift to call people "lacking of natural affections" who had not been nursed at the mother. "Bottle fed", in our family seemed synonymous with not having natural affections. This is truly a large leap of spiritual reasoning from the providential distinction of an infant having been attached to his mother or not. We did it though. Many times, in family discussions, I was silenced by the other mothers who simply put fingers to mouth, when a word of disrespect or corruption was coming from the mouth of one or another. They will understand later on, when they have a child or God will spank them on that subject. They silenced me often and categorized the person as an immature person, unwittingly to the person. Always silently, these maternal eye contact kept me knowledgable of the secret society that we were, having gone through travail. There is no way to bring someone's soul into sympathy of childbirth, not having experienced it. I thought we should teach them. No, shhhhhh! God will bring them through experience, was understood. All of these unsaid or single word understandings were spoken outright in the scene of that movie.
The swiftest way to get a negative word from a mother is to attack her child. The father of that child or not. If you falsely accuse her offspring she will attack.
The knowledge that ordinarily a dearness attaches in the nursing process. A sense of humanness and eye to eye interaction, physical and mental in the preserving of the dates of maternal child feeding. I had stacks of books at my nursing chair, some for the child and some for me.
Why should I continue this archaic cultural remnant of our beastiality? Was always my question. Why should I endure the pain of this? What is the benefit of my sacrificing and enduring such? I had my answers in some books beside me, "La Leche"etc.. These encouraged me that there was some benefit.
The other books were for the soul. My soul and the soul of my child. Who is God? Why are we Christians? What do we believe about Him? Along with the early expressions of physical aptitudes, spiritual perceptions were also part and parcel of the nursing session. Not to bite momma, for one. This is the aspect that all nursing mothers mean when they talk about not having natural affections. Those bottle fed children can bite the nipple as much as they like, but there is a human element attached with human feeding.
In parallel, God is in Heaven and in Him we live and move and have our being. He is certainly not to be minimized in His power above us and we in our need of Him. He is loving and kind and gracious, but certainly feels our spurning of Him. There are many ways to teach this truth, but at the mother's earliest nutrients is a strong lesson.
The swiftest way to get a negative word from a mother is to attack her child. The father of that child or not. If you falsely accuse her offspring she will attack.
The knowledge that ordinarily a dearness attaches in the nursing process. A sense of humanness and eye to eye interaction, physical and mental in the preserving of the dates of maternal child feeding. I had stacks of books at my nursing chair, some for the child and some for me.
Why should I continue this archaic cultural remnant of our beastiality? Was always my question. Why should I endure the pain of this? What is the benefit of my sacrificing and enduring such? I had my answers in some books beside me, "La Leche"etc.. These encouraged me that there was some benefit.
The other books were for the soul. My soul and the soul of my child. Who is God? Why are we Christians? What do we believe about Him? Along with the early expressions of physical aptitudes, spiritual perceptions were also part and parcel of the nursing session. Not to bite momma, for one. This is the aspect that all nursing mothers mean when they talk about not having natural affections. Those bottle fed children can bite the nipple as much as they like, but there is a human element attached with human feeding.
In parallel, God is in Heaven and in Him we live and move and have our being. He is certainly not to be minimized in His power above us and we in our need of Him. He is loving and kind and gracious, but certainly feels our spurning of Him. There are many ways to teach this truth, but at the mother's earliest nutrients is a strong lesson.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
My Maternal Syllabus.
There are certain movies that are musts, if you would run the race of motherhood, in my opinion. They are like a banana, they say, when you are running a marathon. When you have flown as hard as you can physically go, you are half way there, from the movie, Gahool.
I love my mamas and grandmamas and I try to remember them with fondness. I know that you will try to do the same, when I am gone. I find some extra impetus and strength, on occasion, from the stories of the other cultures' maternal/child experiences. I Remember Mama is first on my list.
That daughter studies and lays out for us, the way and skill that her mother had, in negotiating the multiple relationships in her life in a strange land, with her children and husband as a priority. Life gets so complicated and their life was complicated, by the multitude of close relationships and responsibilities that they had. It was clear that it was not because her husband was not the leader in the home, but because he was, that she had the liberty to use her gifts for the upbuilding and love of her children and others.
Mama's love of thrift and consideration, taught her children certain priorities in their lives. I am always struck, in movies, how the heart of an aching mother for her ill child is shown by others, who may have not had that experience.
In the scene of Dagmar's hospitalization, mama gets on her knees and she shocked the tough heart of her most cynical daughter, by doing so. They are such students of our behavior. The daughters were concerned about their sister, it was clear. "Is she sick, is she worsened or better?" Mama?
These life and death struggles of soul are the daily fare of motherhood. In my family the cat would have been put out immediately, before the sickness would have come upon the house. The prevention of those kinds of things are the bent of my maternal heritage.
I remember hearing stories of cat sicknesses, coming upon the children and the expectant mothers and it was taboo, for a child or a woman to be too close to these, "fungal animals" in my upbringing. It was obvious that they were also aware and their aunties had told them the stories also, but love and relationship and children pursuing their bent in life was a higher priority.
I was struck that the care of their mother's emotions was more to the girls than the concern of their sister's well being. This is also a reverse of my family upbringing. Sisterhood, is everything in my family love priority. Mother is secondary to the sisterhood. It must have been Mu that inculcated that to the family, since she was so far from her family love. I grew up with Aunts that were closer than anything. Grandmas and grandaunts who lived and died in eachother's arms. Care of mother's emotions was never even looked at. These girls cared about their mother's concerns. Her dropping to her knees, out of turn was heartwrenching to them.
Clearness of mind came to the mother, there on her knees, scrubbing her floor. It was not God, it was not prayer, perse'. It was clarity and cunning that came to her on her knees there. She thought of a way to get to her child. There must be some way to get to my child. Only when the barricade is manmade, can cunning of maternal pursuit be appreciated. I promised my baby that I would be at her bed, when she awoke; Rules not withstanding.
When the ground has swallowed up the fruit of your womb, that is a barricade that cannot be crossed. That is the barricade set up by God. No person can pass that place. They set up human barricades to divide mother from child and on the knees, we try to cunningly find a way to traverse the generation gaps and the educational gaps and the cultural gaps that are set up to keep us from our sickened children.
Dagmar and mother's embrace, in the hospital room was cathartic to my constant weeping soul. The bereft mother's heart is always in that state, looking for a way to traverse the barricade that God has set up. Catherine, gave me a way to traverse it for a moment as mama got into the hospital room to comfort her little one, my heart is embraced.
I love my mamas and grandmamas and I try to remember them with fondness. I know that you will try to do the same, when I am gone. I find some extra impetus and strength, on occasion, from the stories of the other cultures' maternal/child experiences. I Remember Mama is first on my list.
That daughter studies and lays out for us, the way and skill that her mother had, in negotiating the multiple relationships in her life in a strange land, with her children and husband as a priority. Life gets so complicated and their life was complicated, by the multitude of close relationships and responsibilities that they had. It was clear that it was not because her husband was not the leader in the home, but because he was, that she had the liberty to use her gifts for the upbuilding and love of her children and others.
Mama's love of thrift and consideration, taught her children certain priorities in their lives. I am always struck, in movies, how the heart of an aching mother for her ill child is shown by others, who may have not had that experience.
In the scene of Dagmar's hospitalization, mama gets on her knees and she shocked the tough heart of her most cynical daughter, by doing so. They are such students of our behavior. The daughters were concerned about their sister, it was clear. "Is she sick, is she worsened or better?" Mama?
These life and death struggles of soul are the daily fare of motherhood. In my family the cat would have been put out immediately, before the sickness would have come upon the house. The prevention of those kinds of things are the bent of my maternal heritage.
I remember hearing stories of cat sicknesses, coming upon the children and the expectant mothers and it was taboo, for a child or a woman to be too close to these, "fungal animals" in my upbringing. It was obvious that they were also aware and their aunties had told them the stories also, but love and relationship and children pursuing their bent in life was a higher priority.
I was struck that the care of their mother's emotions was more to the girls than the concern of their sister's well being. This is also a reverse of my family upbringing. Sisterhood, is everything in my family love priority. Mother is secondary to the sisterhood. It must have been Mu that inculcated that to the family, since she was so far from her family love. I grew up with Aunts that were closer than anything. Grandmas and grandaunts who lived and died in eachother's arms. Care of mother's emotions was never even looked at. These girls cared about their mother's concerns. Her dropping to her knees, out of turn was heartwrenching to them.
Clearness of mind came to the mother, there on her knees, scrubbing her floor. It was not God, it was not prayer, perse'. It was clarity and cunning that came to her on her knees there. She thought of a way to get to her child. There must be some way to get to my child. Only when the barricade is manmade, can cunning of maternal pursuit be appreciated. I promised my baby that I would be at her bed, when she awoke; Rules not withstanding.
When the ground has swallowed up the fruit of your womb, that is a barricade that cannot be crossed. That is the barricade set up by God. No person can pass that place. They set up human barricades to divide mother from child and on the knees, we try to cunningly find a way to traverse the generation gaps and the educational gaps and the cultural gaps that are set up to keep us from our sickened children.
Dagmar and mother's embrace, in the hospital room was cathartic to my constant weeping soul. The bereft mother's heart is always in that state, looking for a way to traverse the barricade that God has set up. Catherine, gave me a way to traverse it for a moment as mama got into the hospital room to comfort her little one, my heart is embraced.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Remember Lot's Wife?
Jesus was not insensitive to the heartbroken condition of circumstances. Oliver Twist, The plight and circumstances of the birth of Oliver Twist.
What were similar to our day? What was different? What are God’s promises to the orphan and the fatherless? Site verses.
Great Expectations Pip Phillip Pirrup---
See the movie schedule it in.
What is the difference between… Him-PIP and Ollie
Mission to motivate gratitude for our day and for the comforts of God’s provision. To sensitize the hardened conscience to the goodness of God in His works and providences. To open the eyes of self centered young fellows to others of lesser circumstances. To sensitize the hardened child to the condition of what is real poverty of soul and condition.
It seems to me, that the men of words in our generation must show themselves in the musical realm. Every other genre, is torn apart for editorial purposes. I have seen more intensity in suturing or slicing the words of instruction and condition into the soul, in music than in any other genre. A picture is worth a thousand words they say. A picture uninspired by words, leaves all to the imagination. A song like, Daughters, a young man’s observation of the sensitivity of the feminine soul, little else needs to be said. I have rarely heard a preacher as sensitive to the human condition. Even in Isaiah, He looked at those women in his days and saw only temptation and sin. Making a pact with ones eyes for generations has left women in the lurch and bereft of Godly counsel when it comes to all of the vicissitudes. Job had friends come to comfort him. Who came to Job’s wife? She was not a person. Jesus understands and made it his business to come to the aid of the distressed and unpersonified women. Women are not just tools for either temptation or use. They are souls and many a godly man has sliced his share of women in the name of the scriptures. Jesus kept saying that is not what the scriptures are telling you to do. He cares about the needs and he allowed that precious woman to pour her sadness upon him. The help of God is in the condition of what men do with the dainty souls that God entrusts to them. Do they deserve what they get, walking around with jingling selves as Isaiah seemed to say? That is not God’s heart. Paul said Elijah was a man of like passions. He didn’t understand women either and still God used him and spoke to him, the same with Isaiah, but we cannot justify what men do, because Isaiah did it. God is judge.
12/6/10---
Remember not to be like her and when you see her, remember to go to her as Jesus did.
What were similar to our day? What was different? What are God’s promises to the orphan and the fatherless? Site verses.
Great Expectations Pip Phillip Pirrup---
See the movie schedule it in.
What is the difference between… Him-PIP and Ollie
Mission to motivate gratitude for our day and for the comforts of God’s provision. To sensitize the hardened conscience to the goodness of God in His works and providences. To open the eyes of self centered young fellows to others of lesser circumstances. To sensitize the hardened child to the condition of what is real poverty of soul and condition.
It seems to me, that the men of words in our generation must show themselves in the musical realm. Every other genre, is torn apart for editorial purposes. I have seen more intensity in suturing or slicing the words of instruction and condition into the soul, in music than in any other genre. A picture is worth a thousand words they say. A picture uninspired by words, leaves all to the imagination. A song like, Daughters, a young man’s observation of the sensitivity of the feminine soul, little else needs to be said. I have rarely heard a preacher as sensitive to the human condition. Even in Isaiah, He looked at those women in his days and saw only temptation and sin. Making a pact with ones eyes for generations has left women in the lurch and bereft of Godly counsel when it comes to all of the vicissitudes. Job had friends come to comfort him. Who came to Job’s wife? She was not a person. Jesus understands and made it his business to come to the aid of the distressed and unpersonified women. Women are not just tools for either temptation or use. They are souls and many a godly man has sliced his share of women in the name of the scriptures. Jesus kept saying that is not what the scriptures are telling you to do. He cares about the needs and he allowed that precious woman to pour her sadness upon him. The help of God is in the condition of what men do with the dainty souls that God entrusts to them. Do they deserve what they get, walking around with jingling selves as Isaiah seemed to say? That is not God’s heart. Paul said Elijah was a man of like passions. He didn’t understand women either and still God used him and spoke to him, the same with Isaiah, but we cannot justify what men do, because Isaiah did it. God is judge.
12/6/10---
Remember not to be like her and when you see her, remember to go to her as Jesus did.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Little Boddens
Little Boddens
Don’t you think we need a boy? No, Yes, No, Yes, No.
Here I am years and years past the little voices who live forever in my memory. They are still alive and they are still little children, although they have all gone on to be adults and beyond, some are gone from us, but I remain, on occasion; a spectator in the little room in 113. Looking out of the window, past Benita’s house, down 113th Ave. Looking at the rest of the world and dreaming of life outside of our wonderland.
5 of us could fit in the length of that little window in that tiny bedroom, not larger than a closet really. Solid pale blue paint was on the walls, from mommy and Miss Bessie’s one long painting fit that day. They had us in the room and though it was small, it didn’t seem very small to the 5 of us at that point. We were not very large ourselves.
I was so grown at 8 years old and the director of our wishing, that day. None of you will wish for anything other than a boy this time, do you hear me? Was it you, who wished for a girl the last time mommy went to the stork’s house? We knew an awful lot about childbirth for being 5 children under 8 years old, but my mommy went to the stork’s house every year or so and we just knew that it was our wishes that sent her there. Who was it, who forgot to wish for a boy last year when Amy was born? Amy rose her hand. We know you wished for a girl, you are a girl and we are glad to have you, but this time we must wish for a boy, do you hear me?
They knew I meant business, when I used my mommy voice. Ju, said, who could wish for anything else. I heard some people saying that mommy shouldn’t have anymore children, if we had a boy. Do you think that she will stop if she has a boy? That is what they say. Well, I hope she has the boy and stops, like the people are saying. I am getting very upset that people are always talking about us. Never mind all that gossip that dad tells us not to do, I said, just make sure you wish the right kind of baby.
We ran to look out of the window. A star was above us. Let’s wish together. It is November 24th, cousin Karla is coming to watch us, it is like Christmas, let’s all wish for a boy. Yeah We closed our eyes and wished together. Jo said, why are we wishing for a boy, I don’t like boys. Jack said, me too. Nevermind, just wish, already, I commanded. I am not wishing for anything, it doesn’t make any difference anyway, said Jack.
The night seemed forever, and we woke up and Aunt Karla looked at us, Mom had a boy, she said matter of factly. Wowywowywow! A Boy!
A Boy!
Don’t you think we need a boy? No, Yes, No, Yes, No.
Here I am years and years past the little voices who live forever in my memory. They are still alive and they are still little children, although they have all gone on to be adults and beyond, some are gone from us, but I remain, on occasion; a spectator in the little room in 113. Looking out of the window, past Benita’s house, down 113th Ave. Looking at the rest of the world and dreaming of life outside of our wonderland.
5 of us could fit in the length of that little window in that tiny bedroom, not larger than a closet really. Solid pale blue paint was on the walls, from mommy and Miss Bessie’s one long painting fit that day. They had us in the room and though it was small, it didn’t seem very small to the 5 of us at that point. We were not very large ourselves.
I was so grown at 8 years old and the director of our wishing, that day. None of you will wish for anything other than a boy this time, do you hear me? Was it you, who wished for a girl the last time mommy went to the stork’s house? We knew an awful lot about childbirth for being 5 children under 8 years old, but my mommy went to the stork’s house every year or so and we just knew that it was our wishes that sent her there. Who was it, who forgot to wish for a boy last year when Amy was born? Amy rose her hand. We know you wished for a girl, you are a girl and we are glad to have you, but this time we must wish for a boy, do you hear me?
They knew I meant business, when I used my mommy voice. Ju, said, who could wish for anything else. I heard some people saying that mommy shouldn’t have anymore children, if we had a boy. Do you think that she will stop if she has a boy? That is what they say. Well, I hope she has the boy and stops, like the people are saying. I am getting very upset that people are always talking about us. Never mind all that gossip that dad tells us not to do, I said, just make sure you wish the right kind of baby.
We ran to look out of the window. A star was above us. Let’s wish together. It is November 24th, cousin Karla is coming to watch us, it is like Christmas, let’s all wish for a boy. Yeah We closed our eyes and wished together. Jo said, why are we wishing for a boy, I don’t like boys. Jack said, me too. Nevermind, just wish, already, I commanded. I am not wishing for anything, it doesn’t make any difference anyway, said Jack.
The night seemed forever, and we woke up and Aunt Karla looked at us, Mom had a boy, she said matter of factly. Wowywowywow! A Boy!
A Boy!
Thursday, September 15, 2011
When the Moon...
Is in the seventh house...
I remember being a little child. The bedroom that we shared seemed an alright place and a mysterious place for a group of little girls to play and at night it became our stage and show place. We caught the moon, nightly, by making up new rhythms to old songs that we knew and singing new harmonies "like alleycats" :).
We sang and sang and one of the songs we sang was Don't sleep in the subway... I am ashamed to say the I just figured out what that song was about today. HA, Ha.
I remember being a little child. The bedroom that we shared seemed an alright place and a mysterious place for a group of little girls to play and at night it became our stage and show place. We caught the moon, nightly, by making up new rhythms to old songs that we knew and singing new harmonies "like alleycats" :).
We sang and sang and one of the songs we sang was Don't sleep in the subway... I am ashamed to say the I just figured out what that song was about today. HA, Ha.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Must'nt Point!
Company, we had company and it occurred to me that I haven't emphasized the importance of not pointing.
When we were young, there had better have been a broken finger on you, if your pointer finger were left out, in front of the other four, for any reason. Not to Ever. I must have forgotten. It isn't everyday that we have company. I must be seeing things. That is not her pointer finger going up at the company? I said, Ev, get the gentlemen some drinks. Up went the pointer finger, "these gentleman?" {meaning her father and our company?} Yes. Needless to say, there were no other gentlemen in the room. Steam and smoke and fumes and every kind of fierce gumption, had to be held back from me, in this state.
She did not just ask me a question in response to a command. She did not just ask me a question, did she? That is not the worst of it. She POINTED HER FINGER!!!
Where is Grandma Ruth, when you need her?
When we were young, there had better have been a broken finger on you, if your pointer finger were left out, in front of the other four, for any reason. Not to Ever. I must have forgotten. It isn't everyday that we have company. I must be seeing things. That is not her pointer finger going up at the company? I said, Ev, get the gentlemen some drinks. Up went the pointer finger, "these gentleman?" {meaning her father and our company?} Yes. Needless to say, there were no other gentlemen in the room. Steam and smoke and fumes and every kind of fierce gumption, had to be held back from me, in this state.
She did not just ask me a question in response to a command. She did not just ask me a question, did she? That is not the worst of it. She POINTED HER FINGER!!!
Where is Grandma Ruth, when you need her?
Monday, August 15, 2011
On the First Monday of Unemployment...
As I stated, in another place, Mr. Allstate called goose, over my head and now I am running around the circle trying not to get tagged by..."Mayhem?" LOL
This discouragement and difficulty could make me cry again. I spent the weekend in my bed and crying and now, I am out of my bed and awakened to remember the goodness of God, even when Mr. Allstate calls "Goose".
I do remember that my job was a wrapping of my tongue and as I think about it, it seems to be that there was a swaddling cloth over my mouth, in working in claims. You must say this at that and say that at that. At first it seemed a muzzle. Perhaps it was meant to be. I wiggled and waggled and tried to get out of the muzzle and now that I am loosed from the muzzle, am I crying?
At church one Sunday, I saw a delightful tiny newborn daughter. She wiggled and waggled, in her sleep to try to loose herself from the swaddling cloths. Her daddy was right above her face. She was reaching and pushing and then when her hand was loosed from the cloth, she opened her eyes. It alarmed her. She almost cried and then, she opened her eyes and saw her daddy. Her alarm turned to a precious newborn smile. I know that God is outside of my swaddling cloths and although the alarm of having my tongue loosed from the swaddling cloth of insurance verbiage, I can see God on the other side of the cloths.
Man is made in the image of God and in as much as we are using insurance for the good of others, it is in the image of God and outside of it and above it and beyond it, is God's goodness. I see Him there, above my upsetment and concern about our provisions, waning. I see Him there, loosing me from the muzzle of verbiage and loopholes and claim status. My claim is there before Him, being interceded by the the perfect Savior and perfect advocate. No demon in Hell and no earthly concern can snatch up my soul, though it be tangled in the verbiage and the gridlocks. God is above the muzzle and He uses them as swaddling cloths on our infant souls to teach us to long for Him and His face to be above the cloths. That we may smile, as that baby girl did, in the seat in front of me, in church, when we are loosed from all of our earthly concerns and see His face smiling at us, Abba! Father!
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