Prayer

Too Much Information

We are all inundated with stuff, news, videos, images, voices and noise all day long. I think of the line from the old show Cheers:

“Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got. Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot, wouldn’t you like to get away….”

No wonder we need vacations, staycations, and every other kind of “cation” we can think of. The reason bars and pubs have been such popular hangouts down through the ages is because living is hard for the working class. That’s not to say that rich people don’t have stress, they just have a different kind of stress. They have endless options of things to look forward to. Propel themselves forward in different ways. They hire people to do some of the things that take up so much of the rest of our time, for instance. This is just a small example. This morning, I went to visit my 92-year-old Aunt. The refuse company took her garbage can today, just took the whole can. She called them and got someone from Arizona (we are in California) Hopefully, she will get a new can by next Friday.

Then, she got a letter from the utility company wanting her to reapply for the discount program she is signed up for. There were two full pages of small print for her to fill out. There was another sheaf of papers for her to fill out for her referral for the specialist she is supposed to see. It’s never-ending. Those kinds of things are what we (the masses) have to do on a daily basis. It’s not that hard for me, I can go online but imagine being 92 and never having used a computer or a smart phone.

It’s in these ordinary working, waking, sometimes exasperating moments of life where God can come quietly and give us that Supernatural Rest (click to open AI) with a capital “R.” And that’s very welcome news, because in those moments where you feel “stuck” that is comfort indeed. For me, nature has always been a conduit for God’s rest. Other ways for me are reading certain authors. A book I return to over and over again is Thomas Merton’s Book of Hours. Each Chapter is like breathing fresh air. Another is walking. Nothing untangles my mind like taking a walk. Sometimes I listen to Bach radio on Pandora and sometimes I just focus on sounds. Birds, lawnmowers, people talking.

This year I joined a Bible study which has rekindled my love for the Word and changed certain things in me that never would’ve happened without it. In answering some of the questions we are challenged to be brutally honest with others and ourselves. And when we sing the hymn before dismissal, I find the peace I used to know walking to church on summer evenings (that I never knew I had then, but I know it now.)

Whatever it is for you, find that thing and do it. Pray, seek God. If you can’t find the words to pray, just thank Him for all He’s given you. And most importantly, turn off the news! Have a splendid and wonderful Saturday, folks!

“My soul finds rest in God; from him comes my salvation; my soul finds rest in God; from Him comes my hope.” Psalm 62:1-2

Breath of life

Scout and Atticus enjoying the rain on the windows and bird watching.

I used to have a vibrant prayer life, I don’t know why it used to be easy to pray and now it isn’t. But praise? That has always been an easy thing for me to do. It’s a gift I’ve been given, not anything I did on my own. In the half-light, I thought of David and remember thinking, still mostly asleep, “he wrote himself comfort.” He wrote himself (or I should say prayed out) because really, before they were words, they were prayers. As I lay there reciting some Psalms I know by heart I fell into the most delicious of sleeps. I awoke later more refreshed than I have been for quite a while. I don’t have a lot of Scripture memorized but what I do has been so valuable during times before I fall asleep, or times of stress.

I awoke this morning the first time at around 6. It was dark and I heard the gentle patter of rain outside. My first words were “thank you God for the new day, let everything that has breath praise the Lord, squirrels, chipmunks, cows, chickens.” I don’t know why I thought of those particular animals, but I did. I guess because I thought of this crazy squirrel that we almost hit yesterday. I swear he went right through the wheels. It was the same road, and I assume the same squirrel I saw yesterday dart out to the middle of the same road and back. It’s a red squirrel and they are kind of crazy, (kind of like a little red cat I know) Not mentioning any names (Scout) we love him so.

Conjuring up the Christmas Spirit is always hit and miss and sometimes elusive. At certain moments throughout the day, it comes whispering in. I bought this book for myself, and I highly recommend it. It’s called “Let the Earth Receive Her King” by Alastair Begg. This is a passage I highlighted that gave me comfort this morning:

Whatever lies in our past or our present, we are never beyond being used by God to further His glorious eternal plan

This is my first Christmas retired, and I heartily recommend it. Not having to go anywhere in the mornings is like a dream. We put the Christmas tree up on the patio because (the kitten factor) and I love looking at the lights through the window as I sit and read. I can actually bake again since I have a real stove so that has been a real joy. Recently, we had our usual brunch at Grand Island Mansion, a treasure of the California Delta. When we were finishing up to leave, I was shocked, pleased and surprised to see my friend Darrell who was best man at my wedding and my husband’s best friend. They had moved to a neighboring state, and I hadn’t seen them in a few years. It was a great ending to a perfect morning.

It’s been a wonderful Christmas season full of joys, a few moments of melancholy, peace and overwhelming thankfulness for a God who loves us and strives with me each day despite my stubborn nature. Taxes and jury duty and life lurking round the corner but in all these things we are still more than conquerors. (Romans 8:37)

Merry Christmas to all and hope and blessings going forward to the New Year!

Coming Home

“Those who live in the shadow of the most high will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.’ Psalm 91:1-2

It’s been so long since I’ve been here that I feel as if I have crept into the back door of my childhood home, letting myself in with the spare key. I can almost hear the creak of the screen door. I actually did do a recording of that squeak once, not wanting to forget what it sounded like. I drive by there from time to time to check on my brother’s rental that was put in the trust when he died, since its about 3 doors down.

The explanation for why I haven’t been here. I guess it’s just that the words haven’t come, not for lack of things happening in and outside of my life but for lack of thinking that any of it matters to anyone else. I tell myself it’s all part of the journey of writing. I hear people talk about it, the silence. I guess there is a place for it, otherwise why the 400 years of silence between Isaiah and the New Testament?

I recently started a Bible Study that I’m really enjoying. My childhood friend invited me and it’s held at a small Baptist Church that reminds me of church the way it used to be. We gather together in the sanctuary with the leader ( a little 4’11” dynamo) with a sparkle in her eyes and her spirit and a humble heart. We sing a hymn (from an actual hymnal) then she prays for us and we are released into our small groups and work through our study with a leader. We then meet back in the main hall where Pam goes through all our questions with a final lecture. I find myself looking forward to each lesson. I feel it bubbling through me like living water.

Getting back to the theme of home, where I think this is all going. Anytime we delve into Scripture, it’s a bit like coming home all over again. That is, if we put a bit of work into it. And this actual home we moved into, oh my friends, we are enjoying it so much. Eight years of living in a very small space does a number on you. For those who forgot or didn’t know, when we moved back here, we lived on my aunt’s property on the Mokelumne River. (Click on link to see) It fed my nature loving soul and it was a beautiful setting for sure. That part of it I miss but it was so restrictive in many ways. (And tiny) Constant worry over maintenance of an older RV and 50-year-old trees falling among other things and we were done.

So, we are home. This is the final resting place this side of Heaven unless there is an earthly purgatory in the form of a care home (God forbid). Not being able to care for yourself is a real downside of getting older. As my aunt says (she’s 92 now) “It’s not for sissies.”

It’s kind of weird how God and life work if you pay attention. About 40 years ago I came to this very same mobile home park. I went out on a spiritual limb and said yes to God (it was actually my aunt and uncle) but the much bigger yes is the one I said to God when he asked me to sing with their small group. ( A solo with canned background music) To this day I’m not sure why I said yes. Singing a solo was about as far from my personality as it gets. But He came through for me then and He has never left my side. All these years later, here I am and here He is.

So thank you for anyone here still reading and caring. The kittens we got from the Balam Foundation in Mexico are thriving. Atticus has attached himself to me and Scout has made Elaine his mama. Of course, we love them both equally. Needless to say, there will be no Christmas trees inside this year. We got some decorations up and I found Santa on the ground this morning with a few small parts missing. So far that is the only casualty. And for the first time in 9 years, we are cooking a turkey for Thanksgiving. Life is good friends. Most importantly God is good.

If you are still here, thank you for slogging along with me. I hope you and yours have a very Blessed Thanksgiving this year from my humble Prayer Closet……Peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Lori

Where there’s breath…..

“In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another day just like today, and there will never be another just like it again. Today is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. It is the point from which all your tomorrows will proceed until the hour of your death. If you were aware of how precious today is, you could hardly live through it. Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all.”
— Frederick Buechner

Oh, how I miss this man’s words. His writing has been such a part of my life for so many years that it almost came as a shock that the biography was speaking of him in past tense. I had forgotten that he had died in 2022 at the age of 96. I have been enveloped in so many emotions since my brother’s death in April of this year and then both my parents before that in 2022, Buechner’s death slipped out of my consciousness. He had a way of capturing real life the way few writers can.

Lately, things have been better. Life is moving along the way it does, whether we are ready or not. And Christmas, (thank God) always comes. I don’t mean the Holiday and all the stuff, but the actual fact that is reality for us as Christian believers. That we have been redeemed. That God saw our sorry state and thought He needed to do something to bring us back from the brink. Bring us back to Him. We watched a movie last night, and it was really very sweet. It was about a group of British commuters on a train that saw each other every day but never really spoke to each other. One idealistic young man decided to announce that he wanted to throw a Christmas party for all the commuters (strangers really). Most thought he was crazy. The idea was slow to take off, and in the end, he was very discouraged and cancelled the party. But the miracle part of the story was when people actually started to talk and get to know one another.

Well, in true happy-ending Christmas movie magic, they all surprise him by luring him to his office and throwing the party anyway. It was a smashing success. One person on that train chose to take a risk and make a difference. It wasn’t easy but he was persistent. Until he wasn’t. It’s true of all of us. We give up on ourselves, we give up on each other. It seems the world is crazier than ever before. But one thing, well, one Person anyway, hasn’t changed. God still waits in the wings of our lives until we beckon Him in. What I always say is that:

Where there’s breath, there’s hope.

We don’t have to look far around here to see the hopelessness of humanity at every turn. The other day we were at the local post office and there was a woman wearing only a bra and skimpy leggings hugging the Christmas tree that was in the lobby. Everywhere we go we see encampments of desperation at every turn. The thought comes:

Christ came for a hopeless weary world such as this.

God didn’t wait until I cleaned up and made myself presentable to redeem me, He came when I was still a mess. A 13-year-old kid who nevertheless somehow knew that I needed saving. And I still do, every single day. We all do. I grasped my mom’s hand for strength back then, as I rose from the pew to walk the aisle down to the front to make my public declaration. Thankfully God doesn’t wait until we are good enough, because we never can be. He waits until we acknowledge our deep need to be redeemed of everything that is wrong within us that we are powerless to change.

And that’s the good news that is still good news to ALL the people. I love how the angels said to the Shepherds, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which will be for ALL people.” And all we have to do is believe it, embrace it, live it. And each day is another opportunity to start over. Yesterday might have been a disaster, but today is a new day. Chaos certainly reigns down here, but Christ came for this kind of world. And we can have His peace today.

Every year it seems like I miss the first two Advent Sundays and this year was no exception. I feel bad about it, but there it is. This has been a hard year. God knows my heart and he knows yours. He knows we are all just doing the best we can down here. Sometimes we just need to give ourselves a break. Slow down, breathe easy, especially this time of year. Things can be left undone, but people can’t.

Finally, Christmas means that we celebrate because there is always something worth celebrating. Even with all the conflicting evidence we see around us in the world today, our world was and is, redeemed once and for all. Starting with the Manger.

In His peace, Lori

No Title

I don’t know if “No Title” is a title but it’s okay.

It’s Sunday and I should be getting ready for church. I’ve been up for hours, first Sissy-cat then Bo Bo, taking lap turns while I started my new book, “Animal Dreams”, another Kingsolver. I had to turn Demon Copperhead back in. The writing was superb, but it was just too dark and I don’t need to be immersed in that darkness right now. Maybe I’ll pick it up again at a later date when my life calms down. 

Back to my present church apathetical malaise. I find I can relate easily to David as quoted in Psalm 42:4 when he says: 

These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of praise, a multitude keeping festival. 

I feel like the lukewarm person that Jesus refers to when He says: “I would that you were hot or cold…..” I don’t know what’s causing it. I do know I’m happy when I go, but I’m also happy sitting here and of course it’s much easier. I have no excuse. 

Part of yesterday was spent with a friend looking over my brother’s house and everything in it for her expert opinion on the feasibility of holding an estate sale there. I thought she would run off screaming but she was undaunted. I was ready to empty the contents of the bathroom into a garbage bag to dump but she said no, that (emphatically!) “People will pay for that!” I obviously have no clue about this stuff but she does. 

She will let me know if she wants to do it, I have yet to hear back. If not, we will go in another direction. Maybe all this stuff is catching up with me. I need to go to church regularly and I need to walk regularly. Just not today. I am extremely satisfied with my stack of books right now. (Reading two and two in the wings) Kingsolver is my new favorite author.

I cleared a space for the four chairs I want down below in the little shack, but upon inspection this morning I saw a very fat creepy spider hanging by the doorway. I will have to spray the living daylights out of it before I brave the door. (Sorry Charlotte) I have no mercy and need to get things done. 

Today I will post this, then see what comes next. And tomorrow is another work day, and another work week closer to retirement. 

We did find a home for my brother’s two fish and it was kind of comical. I just couldn’t flush them! They were too happy. Elaine made the sacrifice of putting her hand in the slimy fish-poop water and scooped them out. I held them in their ziplock, still happily swimming into an unknown future. The guy at the Pet Supply got on his walkie-talkie and asked if they take (used) fish. He gave a conspiratorial glance and said, “Now’s your chance, leave them and head out the door and nobodies the wiser.” 

But then the disembodied voice crackled…….“Yes we will take them.” He said, “We’ll put them in an isolation tank for now.” I was impressed they cared that much.

Stages…….

As writers, we always want to make sense of things by organizing the chaotic jumble of thoughts that are swimming around in our heads/and or hearts. Getting those onto the page is a different story. In our fantasies the words flow freely. Most of the time this doesn’t happen. My Dad used to paint watercolor, and I think probably the creative process of that is somewhat similar. I am sure he had an idea in his mind of what the finished product would look like. What my mom would think was beautiful many times ended up with a big black “X” across it, tossed in the garbage. Ending up with something not sounding ridiculous and trite to our inner ears is somewhat of a miracle. But I digress…..

I needed to get away for at least a few days and we made arrangements to stay right on the beach in Monterey, near Cannery Row, the inspiration of many of John Steinbeck’s writings. Usually, I find my rhythm of peace right away on the ocean. This time it took a day. It concerned me, because I felt maybe I just wouldn’t get there at all. The second day it all changed. Thankfully. We had 4 wonderful days of great meals, walking for miles and blessedly cool weather with the sun breaking through the coastal fog most days. We went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium which was packed with families and kids jockeying for position at the viewing windows, but it’s massive enough we saw everything we wanted to see. Once again, I was overwhelmed with God’s imagination. I mean, just the jellyfish alone!

It was just what we both needed.

I continue to deal with the stages of grief at the loss of my brother. I am still kind of in the disbelieving phase of settling into this new reality of being the last of my original family left standing. It’s a strange new world. Part of navigating through grief is the self-evaluation of asking the questions: Did I love enough……Did I love at all…..Did I tell them I did…..When was the last time I told them I loved them……or hugged them? Why can’t I remember? Part of that is normal. Endless recriminations about what I did or didn’t do is not. I rest in the many years of memories we all shared together. And there are many.

As I was writing this, I remembered a snatch of a Bible verse: “Strengthen what remains.” And right on the heels of that was another thought: “Love who remains.” That I can do. And who remains is God, who is always present, and that also includes myself and the loved ones around me. And the lessons we can all relearn from loss, (mine or anyone else’s.)

Call more, stop by more, pay attention more, help more, hug more, love more. Even if you get rebuffed or rejected. In essence, love more like Jesus loved. I want to get to the end of my life with as few regrets as possible. That’s my goal anyway.

All this blather to say. I am moving forward, I am sifting through feelings and thoughts and memories and learning to adjust to this new reality. The best thing we can all do is the best we can. Live life. This morning was peace. It was picking the neighbors’ tomatoes, watering before the heat sets in, watching E. work on the boat, feeding the cats double just because they will be very hot outside today. Breathing in the miracle that is life. I close with this thought, in Heaven there are no regrets. And Revelation 21:4, He will wipe every tear from their eyes and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning or crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Book recommendations: One of the books I am reading right now is called Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxes. It’s not a book you sail through, (there are 20 pages of notes alone) but it’s very inspirational. (And historically accurate) A brilliant theologian, Bonhoeffer should be as well-known as Anne Frank, or Schindler but sadly, he’s not. He died in prison after being arrested by the Nazis for among other things, trying to rid the world of Hitler. Another I’m just about to start is The Collected Regrets of Clover. Jury is still out on that one.

I continue to feed my brother’s two feral cats. They come out from their hiding places immediately and are very grateful to get the food. I know he would be happy to see that.

Until next time, thank you for the therapy, dear readers if you are still with me. I hope you know that I pray for every one of you. Lori

365 Plus 1

“I just heard “She’s gone” in my sleep” 

“Mom passed on October 2nd, 2021, at 3:40 AM”

As I opened my iPad to write this post, these were the two statements I had recorded here 365 days ago yesterday. A whole year and millions of breaths since her soul passed into Heaven, taking a part of mine with it. I hadn’t remembered the day, but my sister-in-law did. For some odd reason I thought it was the 6th. 

Maybe somewhere inside I knew. I had chosen the morning to finally box up her photo albums and clothes she had saved of mine that I had in my car partly because I didn’t know where else to put them or maybe I just wasn’t quite ready to turn them loose. 

I’m still making a weekly pilgrimage to the cemetery to do the flowers and it’s weird because I never wanted or felt a need to do this with either Grandparents or even my husband. Then again, there are no rules in grieving and that’s okay. Even as I thoughtfully arrange my Hobby Lobby bouquet, I have to smile, because I can almost hear both of them say, “Give it a rest already……”

Life stops for some and keeps going for others. Inexplicably. This morning I came across a blog post someone else wrote that I had to share in the aftermath of hurricane Ivan, you can read it here. As I very well know, there are no guarantees we will get another day. That makes today the most important day. Inhale deeply, everyone! 

Don’t just walk, see things when you walk. If you are in good health, thank God. If you aren’t, thank Him even more that He is with you in it. He once walked this earth and felt all the things you are feeling right now. If you are feeling despised and rejected, remember He was too. 

I’ve been reading Ezekiel, talk about a crappy job assignment. None of us has the right to complain! Year after year, they didn’t listen to any of his warnings. I venture to say that none of our employers has ever had to lay on our left side for 390 days, and an additional 40 on our right (for the sin of Judah). And even when they finally did concede that he had been right all along in his prophecy, they still didn’t act on it. 

There is a message there for all of us. Basically, we Christians are all little Ezekiels. We know there is Something and Someone better after we leave this place we call home, but too often we remain silent and distracted by the world. Ezekiel warned and obeyed until it hurt. 

Sometimes I don’t know why or how I can keep a lid on my wonder at God and how good He is. But if these words can be a little leaking of hope and joy out into the world then there is redemption in that. 

I leave you with these words from Paul.

“Finally, brethren (sistren too), whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything is worthy of praise, dwell on these things.” Philippians 4:8

Do Words Still Matter?

What words could I add? 

In light of all the suffering going on in the world right now, what words could I possibly add that would make any difference at all? It’s a question that writers everywhere ask. The answer, thankfully, always comes back the same, and has throughout history. Words matter a great deal because the written (or spoken) word will always have tremendous power to change. Even if that change is a barely detectable shift in the heart or soul. And there will always be readers. In my formative years, there were no computers, no iPhones. We had each other. Real faces, real places. And the things we read in books. We had no choice but to use our imagination. 

Flash forward to 1996. I started work at Intel, Corp. For 20 years I worked alongside many others deep within the heartbeat of the technological age. Together, we built the chips that made it all go. I remember back then people said we would be living in a “paperless” world. And now, in 2022 we are drowning in more paper than ever before. And thankfully, bookstores have not become obsolete. Libraries are still being funded. All is not lost. 

When you look around at our current world situation, it would be easy to lose hope. Character seems scarce. Crime is off the charts. And yet, we honor a beloved Monarch who has passed into glory. We honor and pay tribute to Queen Elizabeth because she embodied great character and values not readily seen much anymore. She had the role thrust upon her in her youth, and instead of resenting it, she rose to the challenge and continued to do so for 70 years. Splendidly. 

Also as Americans, after 21 years we must pause, at least at some point in our waking moments today and remember 9/11. We all remember where we were that day. 

On a more personal note, we have just gone through a massive heat wave here in California and yesterday we were released at last and out from under the 100 plus temps for the first time in several days and weeks. For quite a few days we have been hotter than Arizona which is very rare. 

Just being able to take a walk without sweltering was like a miracle. There is something so redeeming in it. Getting out, off the phone, away from the barrage of voices that can so often cause unease and weariness of soul. Come away with Jesus on the mountain and pray. Even He, being God knew how important that was. 

And read. If you haven’t read Ray Bradbury’s “Dandelion Wine” I wholeheartedly recommend it. It will restore you to all things good, worthwhile, precious and true.  Most of all, read the Word that matters more than any others. His. Peace and Blessings, Lori

Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

Psalm 119:105

The Quiet Hour

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It’s the quiet of the morning and I think again of what Thomas Merton said about this time in the marvelous anthology “Book of Hours”

Antiphon:

“The most wonderful moment of the day is that when Creation in all its innocence asks permission to “be” once again, as it did on the first morning that ever was.” 

This little book was brilliantly edited by Kathleen Deignan. Somehow, she managed to reduce the mountainous volumes of his writing to this perfect little gem. I reach for this book again and again when I feel the turbulence in my soul that comes from a prolonged absence of my morning quiet time when I think I’m too busy. 

My soul tends to wither and fall prey to all kinds of clamor that our world can so effortlessly concoct. This small island of sacred space helps to remind me that:  

My soul is big enough to hold eternity. 

Big enough to hold Him. 

Or, rather, He makes Himself small enough to fit inside me. 

A humbling thought, one I have to make myself be silent enough to understand. Sometimes Alexa plays David Nevue quietly.  Soft piano hymns fall like gentle rain and the words come from a place I remember.  

Miracles never stopped happening. 

The possibility is there, we just have to accept the Invitation. 

Each morning, my coffee, my time, these conversations, become a kind of Holy communion. 

Even more important than a good night’s slumber is this rest for my soul. 

Here is a great verse to ponder that I found today in the Good Book:

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. Ecclesiastes 3:11

It’s now the close of the day. First week back to work and it’s Friday tomorrow. I’m calling that a victory.