Tag Archives: 1 Corinthians


Why is the first corn of the season always, always, ALWAYS the best corn of the season? NC corn is on the byways and highways just in time for the 4th of July…….and me? After not eating much for the past few weeks, I am enjoying every bite that is just a wee bit salted and dripping in butter. Which by the way, drips on to whatever bit of clothing I am wearing at the time.

June was a long, long, LONG month. One book closed and right there – by my side – is another. Part of me wants to pick it up. Another part of me, isn’t quite ready to put the effort into even picking it up quite yet. It is a different kind of book. 
Not new. 
Tattered cover. 
A few ripped and stained pages. 
Maybe even a page or two missing. 
It has been stuffed at the very back of my bookshelf for 40 years and is the one that I haven’t even thought about in ever so long – let alone pick it up……..
but there is this tickle. 
A tickle way back of my eyes that keeps pointing at it. 
A tickle that reminds me that I liked reading it long ago. 
A tickle that is hinting that it just may be time to pick it up again and discover whatever wisdom might lie beneath the words it holds.

But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.”~1 Cor 2:9

It is hot in NC this week. Humid, steamy, muggy, yukky hot. My sinuses feel swollen beyond the confines of my normal sized head. So – out come the oils. Inversion board coming up. But sometimes – I’ve found the best thing is to go out and just sweat.

Early in the morning or late, late in the afternoon – – – right after the deepest part of the night has passed or right as twilight begins at night – – – I meander outside with the lab girls. We do our neighborhood walk, and then I get to work and try to avoid the mosquitoes. I have found that I actually love moving wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of mulch around my small home. The gardens are somewhat dry since we haven’t had a serious rain in a couple weeks, but they are still flourishing. Tomatoes, lettuce, herbs, flowers. God is definitely good, and I see His hand everywhere in the yard with every drop of sweat that falls.

During the heat of the day, if I’m not writing or watching Grands, I head to the bedroom and begin to paint the walls. The knees creak a little more than when I did this a few years back, but I have found that atmosphere is vital when starting a new book and well worth the noisy grunts from various body parts. Best of all is asking the daughter and SIL for help where the walls go much higher than my old knees want to climb.

God is so good.

The new book is still sitting rights beside me. Sometimes I feel like it is inside of me, just waiting to be opened. And because I have this strange curiosity that often gets me into trouble, I peek inside that dusty ol’ book. The Light sparkles around the words that are imprinted there. My eyes are blinded since they are too bright to read for now. Quickly, I slam that book shut once again. I think I will wait a little longer. I know that in time,The Holy Spirit will stop with the tickles and slam me upside the head when the time is exactly right. He just likes to forewarn me – – peak my curiosity – – just like he has for the past couple decades of my life. I don’t really like the “Gibbs slap”, but it does get His point across succinctly.

“We must let God’s WORD become the words of our story.”~Lysa Terkeurst

 [personal images]

ROOTS 2017

Tonight –

I am tired –

Tired of the hate memes –

Tired of the raised fists –

Tired of distorted ‘truths’ –

Tired of the political nonsense –

Tired of rampant disrespect –

Tired of the anger side-winding close to those I love –

Tired of disease decimating my friends, family, community –

Tired –
Tired –
Tired –
and then –
I went searching into the WORD. It is what I do when the twisting snake of this world raises its head once again in my tent, and my tears refuse to stop.

“But if a man will say, “I love God”, and he hates his brother, he is lying; for he who does not love his brother who is visible, how is it possible for him to love God who is invisible? And we have received this commandment from him: “Everyone who loves God shall love his brother also”.~1 Jn 4:20-21

Those two trees that stood in a perfect garden so long ago, still stand within the garden tent of myself tonight. I stand under their lofty limbs, looking up, shaking my head, wondering: ‘How do I ever choose?”

Like the “reality” game shows, do I listen to the snake of the clamoring crowd – cheering me forward to their choices? I swivel my head back and forth – back and forth – back and forth. Do I trust the loudest voice to guide me? Do I pick the fruit based on the color, the taste, the aroma that is perceived to be perfect in this world full of knowledge, training and acceptance?

Or – – –
Tired as I am – – –
Do I fall on my knees, scrape through the hard, rocky surface of my tent, fingers torn and bruised, as I struggle to loosen the surface enough to uncover and bury my nose in the roots of He who Loves and creates all tents? Tents all over the world – in all worlds. Tents that He wants to enter to bless and enhance the essence that resides there.


My eyes are still heavy tonight. My tent buffeted and torn from the winds of this world. I sit upon the roots a little longer. Letting my fingers trace their woody paths. Soaking in their fortitude and nourishing ridges. Limbs curling around me to dry my tears. Unbidden, the prayers begin to circle: “Dear God, do whatever is best for this world, whatever is best for this world.”

Over and over. Over and over. Over and over.

“Be watchful, stand firm in your faith, be courageous, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.”~1 Cor 16:13-14  

[google image]10436363-the-silhouette-of-a-girl-with-root-stock-vector-tree-roots-silhouette

Because of Christmas #1: Quinky Dink

Several weeks ago, I bought a book. Nothing new there. Hubby has this tendency to pull me a little faster and in another direction if he sees a bookstore before I do. What can I say? I can get lost in a bookstore – not to mention – spend more than a few of those hard earned dollars when I finally find my way to the door.
The book was the new Max Lucado book, Because pf Bethlehem. No surprise there either because I love reading his books. This is one author who tells a story almost as well as I think Rabbi Yeshua must have told his. Did you ever get the feeling that none of Christ’s followers fell asleep listening to his sermons?
“The people who are walking in darkness Have seen a great light, Dwellers in a land of death-shade, Light hath shone upon them.”~Is 9:2download
So much for staying on topic. Where was I? Oh yes, I bought the book. It had a pretty red Christmas tree on the front of it, so I figured after the ugly reality these past few months, I needed a book that would speak faith, hope and love (1 Cor 13:13)a little louder in my earthly ears. It worked.
Eyes blink. Quinky-dink. God wink moment hits.
Guess how many chapters that book has? 12
Guess how many days there are before Advent begins? 12
Guess who is reading a new book for the next 12 days – yupper – THIS GIRL!
When I got up this morning, I wasn’t sure what I direction the day was going to take. There are Christmas presents to make, Christmas cards to work on (since no one has our new address, I really need to send them early) Christmas stockings to embroider, plants to move and replant, dogs to play with, piano to play, books to read, writing to do, grocery shopping – – – however, if I am wise, I enter my war room and start the day right by opening His WORD.
It gives me direction. It reminds me that my Father made me and breathed into my nostrils the breath of life. That His name is Immanuel, ‘God with us’. His WORD echoes his presence by reminding us that He sent his Son; a Son who breathed the same air we breath…walked the rocky paths and stubbed His toes like all of us…loved creation enough to bare the sins of the world that we might have Grace…loves us still by promising to return for us.
It is November 16th, and I’m so thankful for a light in the darkness, a new journey with Immanuel. Can’t wait to see what the light illuminates a long the way.549463691_1280x720


“Freedom is not free”. A popular idiom on days like today. It is Veterans Day. Originally, Armistice Day. A day to celebrate the peace achieved at the end of the “War to End All Wars” – WWI. This changed in 1954 when the powers-that-be recognized that the world was not only still on fire – but flaming up almost constantly somewhere. It is, however, one of the few national holidays that is still celebrated on its original date.
“A Mrs. Powel of Philadelphia asked Benjamin Franklin, “Well, Doctor, what have we got, a republic or a monarchy?” With no hesitation whatsoever, Franklin responded, “A republic, if you can keep it.”
200 years later, the republic still stands – mostly thanks to the veterans who continually stood in the gap with only their “sacred honor” as their shield when the homeland was threatened. Growing up in the post WWII era, the veterans of WWII were the mentoring generation of my own. They were my teachers, church leaders, store owners, factory workers, community leaders. They were the people I wanted to be when I grew up.
“The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.”~President Thomas Jefferson
It is my hope that as our nation heals from this last election cycle, which – sad to say – was a different type of war, we will look to our Veterans for leadership. They understand sacrifice. They understand that freedom is not on any level free. They understand what it takes to defend a republic. They understand “sacred honor” to the depth of their core.
“I consider it an indispensible duty to close this last solemn act of my official life by commending the interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty God and those who have the superintendence of them into his Holy keeping.”~General George Washington at Valley Forge
God bless our Veterans.
1942 Daily Ration: Read: 1 Corinthians 10:23-33
” ‘Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.’~1 Cor 10:31
“Real religion is not something we can put off and on like our Sunday clothes It is something that is mixed in with life itself in all its contacts and concerns The faith we hold is something that should hold us.
“Life is made up mostly of monotonies, doing same thing over and over again. And the really important work is done upon these humbler levels. It is in our life’s simplicities, not alone its splendors, we should think of the glory of God.
“How do e treat our friends? How do we conduct ourselves before the eyes of little children? How do we go about the day’s routine? How do we stand up against the head winds, or to what are quite as perilous, sunshine and gentle breezes?
“After a few years it will not matter whether we ruled an army or an industry. What will matter then, eternally, is whether we ruled our spirit and were faithful in the little ways of life and found God’s glory in the commonplaces of the earth.

“Prayer: O God, all-wise and al-patient, who hast warned us not to despise the day of small things, give us a faithful mind and a contented spirit in the daily grind of life, to serve thee bravely; to the glory of Christ. Amen.”    [google images]


When I started this journey of 100 days, I did not think of when it would end. After all, a hundred days is a long time, and I’m not that good at math to boot. I do know that when I missed a couple of days because of a short sisterly vacay, God’s nudge was notable not to just start up where I left off. Instead – I was supposed to double up until I was back on track.

I didn’t like that. Typing one daily Ration takes a few minutes depending on how long it is (I’m a fairly good typist thanks to a mother who insisted on typing class back in the day). Typing a second Ration doubles that time.
Yet – here we are. 7 days of Rations left after a turmultuous election cycle. 7 days of healing thoughts sent from 1942 to us. 7 days to notice how each Ration seems so strongly related to our current days’ events.
Today’s Ration is no exception as it talks about how we should find the true measure of the “pilot”. I find the symbolism of this Ration very potent in light of today’s events. We ‘pilot’ our lives. We teach our kids to be ‘co-pilots’ in our cars. And now – new person will “pilot” this nation. Or hopefully – they will “co-pilot” this nation and let The True Pilot guide us safely through the next four years.
Rabbi Yeshua always taught with parables. I think He still does.
“For there are these three things that endure: Faith, Hope and Love, but the greatest of these is Love.” ~1 Cor 13:13
1942 Daily Ration: “Read: Luke 4:31-43
“I must preach the kingdom of God to other cities also; for therefore am I sent.”~Luke 4:43
“If you were to examine a pilot of one of the great air liners, you would never ask him how long he has been a pilot. You would say, ‘Sir, how many hours in the air have you?’ The true measure of a pilot is hours of flying. Hours on the ground may be spent telling friends what he would like to do when and if, but hours in the air mean ability, experience and competency.
“This same truth applies for a good father, mother, merchant, writer, doctor, lawyer, or minister. Your experience starts when you begin to do the thing you are now talking about.
“Was it not this that made Jesus a blessing to the needy and the hungry? ‘He went about doing good,’ Folks never saw him standing on the corner talking about the thing he was going to do on the morrow. When men saw Jesus, he was putting in hours of labor. . .flying time.
“The challenge of this day is for more men and women and youth to build up flying time. It is not how many years you have been a Christian that counts with your Lord. It is how many hours you have spent practicing the teachings of the Christ….His prayer should be our prayer. ‘…I have glorified thee on the earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do.’~John 17:4

“Prayer: Dear Lord and Master of us all, grant that we may have courage and vision to follow in thy footsteps. Grant that we too may be known for our good deeds and our kindness to others. Amen.” [google images]


All day I stayed away from the news. I cleaned my in-box of all news related posts. I listened to Christmas music and sang – loudly – as I worked on things around the house. I was in a great mood. Then I got on FB.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”~ 1 Cor 13:13
I have friends from every spectrum of God’s rainbow, and I love hearing and reading their views most of the time. I usually learn a lot. But the last few weeks of the election cycle have been more than enough to convince me that there is a lot of ugliness out there that I really don’t need to continuously read. It is hard to ‘…keep faith, hope and love…’ in the forefront of who I want to be during times like these. My first instinct is to run and ignore.
And then – today’s Ration starts to appear under my fingers. God shouts His reminder. He hollers loud and clear in my soul: “I HAVE GOT THIS.” He patiently reminds me through this 70+ year old Ration, that birth pangs are not easy to live through, but live through them we must to share His Light during a tough time. Errrr…I should know this.
When you push and push and push yourself forward in faith, hope and love, the pain fades and the dream of what is to come takes on reality, dimensional shifts occur and spiritual shifts are completed. It is just a matter of remembering that birth pangs DO pass and bring something beyond beautiful to the world.
We may not see it on this side of the veil, but God does. This Ration refers us to Revelation, but God had Isaiah speak it even earlier:
‘On this mountain He will destroy
the shroud that enfolds all peoples,
the sheet that covers all nations;
He will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears
from all faces;
He will remove his people’s disgrace
from all the earth.’
“…He will remove the shroud…” I love that image. His hand pulling the shroud off of us – rebellion – sin- pain – death.  These birth pangs will pass. They will remove that veil of grief. A beautiful world awaits. It is a matter of faith, hope but most of all – love.
1942 Daily Ration: ” ‘Now abideth. . .hope.’~1 Cor 13:13
“Read: Revelation 21:1-2
“”St. Paul lists hope as one of the three permanent Christian qualities. It is no easy thing always to be hopeful. The tragedies of a world at war cannot be laughed off. But Christian hope does not mean an ignoring of things as they are, but rather an anticipation of things as they ought to be. Jesus foretold that wars would come, but said they would mark ot the end but ‘the beginning of birth pangs’. Through the ages the world has been indebted to those who could see in present suffering the birth of a new life and in the darkness of night the coming of dawn.
“One night I was awakened by pain, and while lying in darkness, i heard the birds announce the coming of dawn. Possibly the pain or drowsiness kept me from seeing the coming of the new day, but those little birds saw it. Likewise in a world of suffering and spiritual lethargy, there is a great need for Christians who with characteristic hopefulness can see the dawn from afar, and who may be co-workers with God for the building of a new world.

“Prayer: O Lord, as in the beginning ‘the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy,” so now we still affirm our faith in thy eternal goodness and dedicate ourselves again to thy Kingdom of light. In Christ’s name. Amen.” [google images]


What a weird week. Hurt the toe (which is healing nicely – if too slowly for me), and this morning when I woke up, I could see everything perfectly. I was flabbergasted. I can’t even remember the last time I could open my eyes in the morning and see everything clearly.
I blinked a couple of times and was about ready to praise My Father for a miracle when I felt the contact slide into place. Apparently, last night I slept in my contacts. I have been wearing contacts for almost 50 years and have never forgotten to take them out – not once – not ever. A nap here or there – sure. But never overnight and never for 24 hours. Even when I pulled all-nighters in college or with my kidlets, the contacts came out.
As I have aged, I usually take them out earlier in the evening and wear glasses. But last night, not only did I go to bed with my contacts in, but they never irritated my eyes enough to wake me up – at all. However, when I took out the contacts, my vision was not what I am used to, so I put them away and wore the glasses. I will certainly be one happy person to put my mono vision contacts back on tomorrow and be able to see things clearly.
“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”~1 Cor 13:12
Needless to say, as I struggled doing the ordinary things I like to do – reading, writing, seeing things in the distance, I had this promise drift through my brain a couple of times, 1 Cor 13:12. The reminder that there will be a day when I get to wake up in a world and see perfectly.was definitely a blessing to my day — a blessing to my week – a blessing to my life.. .
1942 Daily Ration: Read: Psalms 10
” ‘What is a mocker, strong drink is raging; and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise.’~Prov 20:1
“Out of the dim past comes the story of a young cupbearer, Cyrus by name. He had been appointed to serve his grandfather Astyages, the king. In serving the first time, he presented the cup to the king with a dexterity and grace that charmed Astyages and his mother, who was also present. The king embraced him with great fondness and said, ‘I am well pleased, my son, No one can serve with better grace. But you have forgotten one essential ceremony – – – that of tasting.’
” ‘No’ replied Cyrus, ‘it was not through forgetfulness that I omitted this ceremony. I relaized that there was poison in the cup.’
” ‘Poison, child! How could you think so?’
” ‘Yes, poison, sir, for not long ago at an entertainment you gave for the lords of the court,, after the guests had drunk a little of that wine I noticed that all their heads were turned; they sang, made noise and talked they did not know what. You yourself seemed to have forgotten that you were a king.’
” ‘Why,’ said Astyages, have you never seen the same thing happen to your father?’
” ‘No, never,’ said Cyrus. ‘When my father drinks, he drinks water.’
“Prayer: Grant unto us, Our Father, the wisdom and strength to overcome the temptations to our path, and to abstain from those things which hinder our physical, moral, and spiritual development. Amen.

 [google image]


loudonville RRSomewhere in this new neighborhood, there is a train whistle. A very loud train whistle. I’ve heard it twice since we have been here. Always late at night. Always loud enough to vibrate through our (mostly) double paned windows (remember – repo here) and into my heart memories. A crazy external “thing” that somehow has become an intrinsic part of my core. You see – I grew up a stone’s throw away from a railroad track and all it entails.

Before I could walk, my daddy carried me down along the railroad tracks. My big brother and mother could have been there, but all i really remember was his voice, his hands and body. I curled my arms tightly around him and tucked my head into his neck just so I could hear his voice and heartbeat rumble through my ears. What can I say? I will always be a daddy’s girl. Teaching me, even then, to have a healthy respect for these big loud machines. More than that – teaching me to love them. The cinders crunched under his feet, and I remember squirming to look down, The loud whistle startled me. (It still does.) A dark wooden platform that creaked as we crossed it to sit on a bench that vibrated under us as the big monster slowed to a crawl and noisily stopped in front of us.

In the 50’s, trains were still a central part of the industrial world. Hauling passengers to far away cities. Carrying supplies to factories that needed them. Oil. Coal. Switch tracks. Long waits for cars at the crossings. Workmen repairing essential parts for the safety of the trains and the people who lived around them. Bridges connecting roads above the parallel rails that seem to drift into eternity. A small neighborhood here and there along side those same tracks. In the old days one of those neighborhoods got the name “Black town”. Mom said it was because of the black soot that drifted down over the houses from the coal burning engines. All I know for sure is that this was my neighborhood. My childhood home.

When I heard the train whistle in our new home, I suddenly realized how much this new house is like my childhood home. A small neighborhood. A corner lot. Mature trees and a few pines surrounding it. A fireplace. Nooks and crannies that whisper to my curiosity. A house number that has the year I graduated from high school tucked within it. And a train whistle that echoes over the hilly ravines around us.

Mom told the story that when she and dad were looking at this house to buy, she asked if the trains were a problem. (I’m not sure why since the McCaskey old brick was literally right beside the train tracks so she should have known even if she hadn’t lived there). The sellers said that they hardly noticed it at all. Believe it or not, we hardly did either.

Actually, I never lived very far from the tracks. I turned 7 in a house just a couple of blocks north of the railroad. There were no remotes for the T.V.in those days, so I was the one to get up and turn the volume up or down when needed, but (mostly) if moving wasn’t required, I just read the book on my lap, got a snack or talked to the parents or Chico until the train disappeared into the distance. It never woke me up at night and, in fact, became my own comforter that left me lost and sleepless for while when I moved to the city to attend college.

The more I think about that whistle, the more I look forward to hearing it again. I will jump and I will go to the window to see if I can see the train coming down the track. For somewhere deep inside me, I am silently hoping that when Christ returns to earth, that final trumpet will sound a little like a very loud and long train whistle. If it does,I know I will hear my Father’s voice in my ears as He lifts me high into His strong arms, and we can walk the tracks together once again.

“In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed.”~1 Cor 15:52dep-OH017


moving-forwardIt is the week that just goes on and on and on. Days of packing, lifting, carrying, moving something out of the way, re-arranging one thing just to find that it is now in the way of something else that needs to be moved. Have I whined enough? Do you feel sorry for me yet?


I have loved every minute of this particular adventure. Rubbing tired muscles jan 16 2016 hot tub fiasco 1and achy knees. Reassuring crazy dogs who cling to my side while they watch me with big golden eyes. Waking up in the middle of the night to pray for friends and family that I was too tired to circle in prayers before my eyes slammed shut. Admiring the hubby who continues to push himself beyond what I would ever consider doing. Appreciating family who lift and carry when we are too tired to do anything more.

“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”~1 Cor 13:7

jan 16 2016 roller derby eAs hard as today was, it was another one of my best of days. Roller-derby Grands racing around on the moving dollies. Laughter circling in an echoing house. Barking dogs jumping in and out of the car. Driving from one property to another jan 16 2016 roller derby dbecause the tool we need is somewhere else. Pizzas from The Saxapahaw General Store. Lego toys to play with enhanced by Disney pictures and stories entertaining us more than the football game on TV.

It was a blessed day.

“And you shall rejoice in all the good that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house…”~Deut 26:11

jan 16 2016 roller derby aThe new house is still not a home. However, the garage is now stuffed with our “stuff”. A new toilet stands tall while a small patch of heavenly blue wall painted behind it is shining bright in the middle of a dingy bathroom completely torn apart. “Great” jan 16 2016 washing machine broom almost seems to be smiling with its new coat of paint. Best of all, new gas logs in our fireplace are being lit tomorrow and just might be the first real glimpse of the home that has been given at this particular time just for us. We are content, excited, tired and storing up energy for tomorrow.

We thank you for all the prayers covering us as we push through these last few days and can’t wait to start our lives in Eli Covenant at Haw River. Life is good. Our Father’s plan is better. Blessings!Be!