Restoration…….(kind of like what God does with us.)

Behold, I show you a new thing……..Isaiah 43:19

Just a very partial showing of Elaine’s restoration projects I thought I would showcase today……..My Prayer Closet out of her Mom’s old beat up dresser, a window covering you can open and close, a candy scale that was sad, corroded and forgotten, and a new table for my Aunt’s wash area! It is amazing living with a restorer and creator.

And her latest, the iron was weathered and tarnished and the wood just about gone…….we were about to throw out until I said (as we were dragging it to the scrap heap)……..”Wow, this iron frame is heavy, it’s a shame to not save it!”

And the newest Lubester……..

I love how she sees things. A piece of wood is never tossed out……she has a vision for what it could be made into. And the old rusty and forgotten is seen for what it once was and what it can be again.

This is the beauty of what God longs to do in each of our lives, my friends.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” 2 Corinthians 4:7

And now she is outside building a cat house for the neighbor’s cats. They have the whole acreage here to run around in but they have decided home base is the Motorhome. Well, they were neglected and the neighbor is hardly ever home so a handful of food here and there become a twice daily regular feeding time.

Like I said, this is just a sampling of what she’s done over the years and for many recipients other than myself over the years, given away as labors of love. God has blessed the work of her hands as she blesses others. She amazes me.

I am so glad God has chosen not to leave me on the scrap heap. He is the Creator and Restorer of all times and all seasons, and that includes me and you.

“He has made everything appropriate in its time. He has also set eternity in their heart, yet so that man will not find out the work which God has done from the beginning to the end.” Ecclesiastes 3:11

Always just a little bit of mystery isn’t there? God has the right to keep some things under wraps, but someday all will be perfectly explained and understood.

Enjoy the beauty of His creation this weekend. I leave you peace…….

 

 

Holiday Speed Bumps

“Slow down. Take a deep breath. What’s the hurry? Why wear yourself out? Just what are you after anyway? But you say, ‘I can’t help it. I’m addicted to alien gods. I can’t quit.’ Jeremiah 2:25

Every year it happens. Either I am driving on the freeway or in a store and there will be a moment when I make a conscious decision not to join in the madness that seems to be picking up tempo all around me.

My heart beat slows…. I take a step back. It happened this past weekend when I was driving on the freeway and I had to slam on my brakes because people were driving even crazier than usual. I realized the fever pitch had started. Speed bump number one.

Then at the Mall, it happened again when I saw Santa’s Village already set up taking pictures of the kids. I don’t remember them starting that early last year. I saw Santa sprawled spread eagle in the chair looking bored to tears while the “elves” were like circus barkers trolling for customers. Really? I asked the same question I ask myself each year.

This is Christmas?  Speed bump number two.

And last night I had the mute button all ready for when the decibel level went through the roof on the commercials.

Don’t get me wrong, nobody loves Christmas more than I do. I totally get into decorating the house and doing the baking, and I do love to buy gifts, but I don’t go crazy.  And I will deck the halls and love every minute of it. There will be a tree in every room. In my bedroom, the tabletop Victorian, and in the office, the Southwestern tree. And Elaine has an ocean tree, decorated with while lights, mermaids, and shells. 

And in the kitchen, a tiny tree with plastic snowmen and snowflakes and other Christmasey type things. Have to be careful with that one, the lights are old and very hot and if it fell next to something flammable it would be a tiki torch in no time.

And then there is the main tree, which is a pre-lit 8 foot we found in a Costco return line one year….I am always amazed when the lights come back on each year. One year I threw my back out trying to stuff it back in the storage container. The first two sections were no problem, it was the last (fat) section that did it.

Never again will I try to do that alone.

Advent is coming…..I feel it in my heart. I am slowing down. I will make peace with whatever doesn’t get done. I will not succumb to the alien gods of commercialism run rampant. I will however, enjoy every little moment God gives me before the calendar turns over yet again.

It will be over all too soon.

What makes a home

 
I never thought I would live in a “retirement” community. I had many preconceived notions, some of which were true. The high point of the day for some is getting the mail. When you walk at night the motion detector lights salute you all the way down the street. And if you leave the water running, there are always those who act as if they personally had to pay for that extra water running down the street.
 
And I complain because every time I want to use the treadmill someone has gotten to it first. I gave up and started running on the pavement, and that is probably why my back feels like it does now.
 
A plus side, if you could call it that, is that you are reminded of your mortality at least once a week when the firetruck or ambulance comes through. You learn who gets a regular visit….who is on oxygen, who is taking care of a terminally ill husband or wife.
 
You know Larry by the loud burst of song as he walks out the door to walk his dog Annie. Rosalee walks with sticks. And I hold the distinction of being the only “runner” in the park, though I use that term loosely. Now I am the crippled runner until I can find a spot on the treadmill.
 
There are plus sides to this life. Many times I don’t lock the door and I never lock the car. People watch your stuff. They let you know when someone has been there when your not at home. When I moved into this place, the motive was to get out of debt……..It is the best thing I ever did.
 
I had a beautiful custom home up in Payson, and I was in a very nice home before, and the two previously. But honestly, this manufactured home feels more like home than all the others.
 
Some people were downright upset at this decision. They thought we were “taking a step down.”
 
But I have felt closer to the Lord in this place than I have felt anywhere else. That is what makes me feel more at home here than any of those others. I am proud of what we’ve done to make it a place of warmth and invitation. A place that makes you want to stay awhile.
 
 
 
Home is where you feel at peace, wherever that is. Home tugs at your heart.
And if you don’t feel a warmth when you look through the windows at night? You are not home yet.
 
And for me, home always holds a bit of sorrow right along with the joy. The walls hold the good times but also the hard times. The times of sacrifice. But always, home is a refuge from the world outside. I never leave without carrying a bit of it with me.
 
And you see those stacks of wood I purposefully left against the side of the house? Those represent making a place even better than when you found it.
 
I think that makes God happy. After all, it’s what He is trying to do with me. And when I get to my permanent home? I will be much better off than when He found me.
 
I will finally be complete.
 
“……..being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

Car Dreams

Everyone who knows me well, knows about my funky car dreams. I have had them for years. Sometimes I am driving in a very small car with no bottom and I can see the road speeding along under my feet. One night I actually lost a shoe and had to go back for it. In that same dream I was able to pick the car up and turn it around and go get my shoe. What is great about the small car dreams is that you can park them anywhere.
Other times I am driving in half-light. It is almost light enough to see but not quite. It’s like I am driving without my glasses on in the dark.
Many times I am riding in a speeding car in the back seat and I realize no one is at the wheel steering or controlling the car. I hastily try to get behind the wheel, but I can never seem to get there. Sometimes I see a stop sign or an intersection where the light is red and I am powerless to stop the car. I usually wake up before I hit anything.
Other times I am going somewhere with no clue as to how to get there and yet I keep going anyway. Many times I am driving over a very high overpass with water on all sides. The view is breathtaking and it’s almost as if I am flying but there is an acute sense of fear as well. (Oh, I have flying dreams too but that’s another topic)
One thing I notice in all these dreams is that the car seems to be driving itself and turning itself but I realize that I have to get control before disaster strikes. I always wake up before it does.
Last night was something new. I dreamed I was driving backwards. I was driving my Dad’s old van and going from Lodi to Stockton (around a 15 minute drive) I was driving around 55 mph, all the time looking behind me and in the rear view mirror.
I woke up exhausted.
Dr. Freud would have a field day with me. But I actually think its pretty simple. God is telling me that it’s safe to let go of the wheel as long as He is in control.
I will save the “teeth falling out” dreams for another time.

A doll story, but not just for women

For those women who still have dolls, and the men who love them…….. Not the dolls, the women.

I was late to like dolls. When I was around 4 or 5 I wanted to be like my brother…..I had a name picked out and everything. I wouldn’t wear anything but cowboy boots, jeans and flannel shirts and insisted on wearing boys tennis shoes. Black high tops to be exact. It is to their credit that my parents actually bought me a pair and let me wear them.

Every now and then we fish them out of the cedar chest and laugh……

My parents figured it was a phase, and they were right. They held their breath and played it cool. They didn’t freak out and drag me to the child psychologist and I really respect them for that. 

Anyway, I wanted a horse, I prayed for a horse. I had a plastic collection of no less than 10. Some had broken legs and we had to scotch tape them back on. My Dad got creative with spray painting some of them if that particular month I just had to have one like little Joe’s black and white pinto on Bonanza. We lined them all up and played for hours, the neighbor girl and I.

When I was around 6 or 7 I decided I liked to wear dresses and cute clothes. Though I held onto my passion for horses, one Christmas I got a little rag doll who played a lullaby. I promptly fell in love with her…….she had a blue dress and yellow yarn hair. She was my “special” present that year.

I had a succession of dolls after that, and I loved them all. We had an emotional connection my dolls and I.

I had barbie dolls, wanna be barbie dolls, troll dolls, little kittle dolls and paper dolls. Some of my cousins had collector Shirley Temple dolls. My cousin June had a big floppy life-size doll her brothers used to roll down the stairs. They loved how life-like she looked as she fell to her death. They also attached explosives to her. They were sick.

My friend had an African American doll when she was growing up in Texas. She loved that doll and her Dad threw it out because it was the wrong color. I don’t think she ever forgave him for it. All these years later, she has looked for one like it in antique shops, even EBay. She’s never found one.

One day I went into my favorite gift shop with my Mom, and there on the bottom shelf was the most adorable doll I had ever seen. I had to have her. She had long brown hair that looked real. She is pictured on the right. I named her Suzanne, after a Judy Collins song I loved.

The other doll belonged to my Sister in law who has been in Heaven now since 1998. My Mom had her for awhile, but ran out of room to display her. She was gathering dust in the same trunk my old shoes were in, so I bundled her up and brought her home.

The strange thing about that doll? Shortly before I got married my maid of honor got sick with the chicken pox and couldn’t do the ceremony so my Sister in law graciously stepped in and fulfilled her wedding duties, perfectly I might add…….including wearing the beautiful peach colored dress I had picked out for my friend. The very same color this doll wears today.

She’s almost as beautiful as my Sister in law was. It is safe to say that I am emotionally attached to both of these dolls. It’s what they represent that I hold close, all those good times, safe times. For a few moments I am a little girl again, lost in the wonder and magic of long ago. When dolls were more than just dolls.

I remember every one of them like old familiar friends.

And when I watch my little niece with hers now, I smile and my heart glows warm.

I remember when all over again.

Will there be horses in Heaven?

There is one prayer I have had that was never answered…..From my earliest memory, from the time I actually believed there was a God and that I could pray to Him I prayed that one morning I would wake up and there would be a horse in the front yard. From the time I first saw one, I was instantly in awe. I held them in reverence that was almost godlike.

It started with the pony rides. I didn’t care about anything else at the carnival, if there were ponies going around a ring I was there. My Dad would shell out the two bits. And in Yosemite there was what I would classify as a deluxe pony ride. We got to ride on a track, all around the stables….oh they were pure wonder. Which one would I get? I didn’t care, to me they were all as magical as unicorns.

We used to camp in old Camp 7……and just on the border ran the horse trail. My favorite part of the day was when they would come through. I can still hear my Dad announce, “Here come the horses!”

Oh, I would hear the footfall of those wondrous creatures as they walked through the carpet of dry pine needles that fell across the trail. The sound of them, blowing and breathing and neighing. I would stand stock still as we watched every last one pass.

And when finally the day came that I myself could go……….I was on top of the world. I was taller than anything. My big gentle brown quarter horse with a butt as big as a house was my new best friend. I could have cried as I bent down to hug his neck as he carried me into a place I had never been before, but only dreamed of.

Then, as what happens so often, we grow up and put away our dreams and convince ourselves those joys may be for someone else, but not for us.

And still, as I see them, even now. I remember that magic. And I wonder, will there be horses in Heaven? I think that if God created animals in the first place, he must want them there.

The Bible says He will be riding in on a white horse, after all.

Maybe I will be riding with Him? Maybe we all will…….

I am posting this today because sometimes just remembering something magical is miracle enough.  the joy of living, the joy of memory carries us through.

And it’s all a gift from God.

Joining in with these wonderful folks today just because I want to, not because this post necessarily has anything to do with promises or counting blessings. But then again, maybe it has everything to do with it!


Changes……

He has made everything beautiful in its time. <sup class="crossreference" value="(G)”>He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom <sup class="crossreference" value="(H)”>what God has done from beginning to end.  I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.  That each of them may eat and drink, <sup class="crossreference" value="(J)”>and find satisfaction <sup class="crossreference" value="(K)”>in all their toil—this is the gift of God. Ecclesiastes 3:11-13


I am making some changes, soon I hope to be taking this little place I have cozied up to and I hope you have to, over to the WordPress platform. I have wanted to make some changes for awhile but I needed a little push. And I have some very kind helpers who are trying their best to answer all my questions.

And I keep having more and more of them. Questions, I mean.

I go over to the other site and almost have a panic attack. Then I jump back over here into the safe zone and breathe a sigh of relief. I know this, it is familiar. It is home.

But as in life and blogging and anything else, God doesn’t always want us in the safe zone. He wants us in the “trust me” zone.

And I know the other place will be home too, as soon as I know it better. Change is good, change is good. I know it is just another of my emotional attachments. I get attached to things like cars and furniture and dishtowels too. It’s a personal problem. I may need help.

So, here I am in my pair of fuzzy slippers.

For now. Until I get the courage to jump in all the way.