Tag Archives: love


“When you can’t be with the one you love…”

july 9 2016f


Today is big brother’s birthday. Special days always turn my heart towards home and family. It doesn’t change just because we have 500 miles between us. We are still brother and sister. Raised by super parents – even if it was 9 years apart – and nurtured by a creative, supportive extended family, we were blessed. And still, I sniff a little.

“Love the one you’re with…”

I couldn’t be with big brother this year on his special day. Instead I talked with him a couple days ago. Seeing as he is the more social, out-going sib of the two of us, I knew he would be busy doing things from sun-up to sun-down and just enjoying the love flowing around him. There is nothing better at our age.


silver 1953

Sniff, sniff…

That being said, the Grands are here tonight filling up the heart that has a small hole because it wishes it could be in Columbus, OH tonight. Their world has expanded exponentially this year. In a couple months, the oldest will be 10 – going on 13 (in her mind, anyway). The younger one running in her shadow, trying to keep up. The years are slipping away much too quickly.

Sniff, sniff, sniff.

As they curled up to choose a movie, after the eldest reading 6 “Junie B.” books, the youngest coloring three “Star Wars” ninjas, walking with Papa (and beating him (and the dogs) back without even being winded), then eating more than I have ever seen them eat, …. then….reading/coloring some more – – – we laughed as they compared how little the queen-sized bed seems now that they have grown “so big”. The younger said, “We were just babies when we started sleeping in this bed.”

True words never spoken which, of course, made me sniffle a little louder.

It is days like this when blessings sometimes have pointed tips to them. They prick my soul awake and remind me to take note. And – when I do, they fill my heart with their richness. These are the treasures that are eternal. The queen-size bed – the movies – the books and coloring sheets – are temporal. It is the cuddles, the laughter, the joy of “gathering in love” that is eternal.

And while I may still sniff, whine, and wish I could be in two places at once, it is the love that surrounds me tonight which keeps me smiling through the sniffles and opening my treasure chest so I can fill it a little more.  On that note – I’m off to go sit in a darkened bedroom, push the kidlets to the sides of the bed so I can squash myself in the middle, and watch something called “Kong”. I will probably be asleep before they are, but I won’t be sniffling until tomorrow when they go home and the house is quiet once again.

Happy birthday, big brother, hope it was the best one ever and blessed with love all around.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”~1 Cor 13:4-7


[personal images}

ADVENT 2017: LOVE #2

“Why is it easier to make Christmas cookies than to make our hearts ready for Christ?”~Ann Voskamp
Even being retired, I find I still set myself up to be way too busy before Christmas. Decorating. Christmas crafts. Present seeking. Writing Christmas cards (cards that I started right after Thanksgiving and still am not finished – mostly because I am such a procrastinator) Stockings to finish. Stories to read. Traditions to uphold.
And yet – – –
These are not the things that prepare my heart to love. In fact – they are the furthest thing from it. These traditions. These crazy things we love to do in this life – have nothing to do with the tiny baby we claim to honor with them. They are things. Things that have nothing to do with the tiny baby that was born in a stinky, dirty stable.
It is in our nature to want to be the “wise kings” in life. We want to ride in on our camels or donkeys or fancy horses and chariots. Our embroidered robes flashing our importance. Our jeweled crowns reflecting our wisdom’s rich rewards.
And yet – – –
I think I am yearning to be something more this year. More than a flask’s aroma of earthly wisdom. A chest filled with rich foods or embroidered cloth. A writ of fancy words. A tree covered in beautiful lights and delicate memories. Or – well crafted stables with perfectly molded people.
This year – I just want to be a shepherdess. His shepherdess. A shepherdess out in His field. A shepherdess watching over His sheep. A shepherdess who hopes deep in my heart that I might find that one lost sheep who always seems to wonder off on the darkest, stormiest of nights. A shepherdess alone in His field with His sheep singing His songs.
This year – I want to be a shepherdess. A shepherd girl who has ears to hear and eyes to see the impossible. Angels singing songs. Angels bringing messages. Messages that prepare a heart for love. Love beyond all understanding.
I want to be that kind of shepherdess. One who brings my dirty, smelly self from long days and nights willingly spent in the field that my Father created. Fields that I – mostly – muddied up by my own vain, foolish attempts to change them or where I lost lambs that He had given to my keeping.
That’s who I want to be. A shepherdess whose heart is full of love.
Shepherds brought nothing but their hearts to that small, stinking stable. Shepherds believed beyond the power of reason. Shepherds who couldn’t leave their flocks, so they drove them to that same stable where they will bring their pure lambs for the Passover festival. Shepherds who had prepared their hearts long before the angels came.
A place where they saw a perfect Lamb.  A Lamb to be judged. A Lamb to be separated out. A Lamb to be sacrificed.
That is who I am striving to be as I walk in my Father’s field of life this night A shepherdess in the field of the Lamb who shed His blood for His Father’s people – for His Father’s world. A simple shepherdess who is preparing her heart.
“Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.” Voltaire [google images]shepherdess


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]


Good days. Bad days. Spectacular days. Suffering days. Not always fun. Not always miserable. Successive strings of days where Terra turned beneath the feet. Days and Nights. A world full of lives lived.
I make it a point never to read ahead in this little Rations booklet. Everyday, I want to be blessed by the treasure that is recorded on each page. Yesterday, the Ration talked about Truth, and it’s importance in our lives, our countries and our world. It is of little wonder that today’s Ration speaks of Love. Love and truth always seem to go hand-in-hand. They give us a vision of where we should strive to be in this chaotic life.
“Where there is no vision, the people perish . . .”~Prov 29:18 (KJV)
I love picking up the Grands from their schools.I rarely ask them how their day went – instead – I might ask, “What was a question you asked today?” One time, my Grandson answered, “I asked to go to the bathroom and it was a good question because I really had to go.” My Granddaughter on the other hand, asked me why she should ask questions. teachers ask questions. I laughed. Yet – those answers led us to discussions that gave me a deeper insight into their thoughts and lives at school.
I love asking questions in my life, so I guess the Grands pegged me on that one. However, curiosity doesn’t always kill that cat. Sometimes it leads to long discussions. Other times it leads to deeper thoughts on both sides. And sometimes, it leads to dreams and visions of what potential life holds in store for us in our pursuit of truth and love. Our good days. Our bad days. Our questioning days. Our days of wondering. Our days when we ‘love one another…’
1942 Daily Rations: Read: 1 John 4:7-21
” ‘Beloved, let us love one another; for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God and knoweth God. . .God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God and God in him. . .There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.’
” ‘Perfect love casteth out fear!’ Would we not have said, ‘Courage casts out fear’?
“Neither the Old nor the New Testament treats courage as a self-supporting virtue; they both treat it as a quality derived from something deeper. To try to generate courage just within oneself by goading oneself to meet danger is not the method offered in the Bible. The Old Testament shows how fear is overcome by reaching outward to God in trust. The New Testament carries us still farther, and couples with this trust a fear dispelling love that draws us out toward both God and man.
“We can feel sure, for example, that no fear was left in the spirit of that American, suffering with the Chinese in Peiping, who led himself to this: ‘I will not allow myself to hate. I will not allow myself to become callous. I will not blame God for what is happening. I will not abandon my vision of the Kingdom of God.’
“Prayer:O love that casts out fear,
O love that casts out sin,
tarry no more without,
but come and dwell within.”~Horatius Bonar c. 1800’s


“Bless the four corners of this house, and be the lintel blessed; And bless the hearth and bless the board, And bless each place of rest, And bless each place of rest.”

Yesterday, we started moving our “junk” into the house. It was bittersweet. When I opened my eyes in the morning, I could feel the house considering us. It had been ripped apart, patched, and given an expensive beauty treatment and face-lift. Now it was pondering what would come next. Expectation circled as I pulled myself out of bed and made my way with dancing dogs to the feed bowls. (Yes, indeed, after saying my morning drowsy prayers, the dogs claim my first steps to their dog bowls and treats).

I could almost feel the house sigh with happiness.

My kids and hubby will tell you that our car rides were filled with fictional short stories about people, animals and/or random things we encountered along the way. I think it started with my mom and dad trying to find ways to entertain a squirmy 5 year old with no seat belt to hold her semi-still, on “long” trips to visit family on a Sunday afternoon. Sometimes it was as simple as, “I bet that tree is sorry that it lost a branch in that wind storm last night” – to stories that would last for miles as each of us added more details, emotions and personality to whatever had caught our fancy. So I guess you can see why I could “hear” the house sigh.

“And bless the door that opens wide To stranger, as to kin; And bless each crystal window pane, That lets the star light in, That lets the star light in.”

By the end of the day, I was too tired, sore and grumpy to do much of anything except fall into bed. I felt bad that I didn’t write on the second day of Lent. I felt bad that I didn’t get more done. I felt bad that it was so cold. I felt bad that every joint and muscle hurt. But – as I curled under the covers, the newly installed heat system kicked on and the house began to sing a lullaby.

This morning brought a more lazy awakening. Hubby had taken the dogs out for an early – very chilly – walk. There were no tongues licking my hands or dancing paws next to the bed. Just me, saying good morning to my Father and feeling warmth spreading around the room in welcome. Birds – a nuthatch, titmouse, sparrow, cardinal, blue-jay, woodpecker – darted in and around the bird feeder outside the bedroom window, and I smiled. A hint of whisper echoed in my ears as I sat up, “Love”.

“And bless the roof-tree over head, And every sturdy wall; The peace of Man, the peace of God, the peace of Love on all, The peace of Love on all.” Arthur Guiterman, 1871-1943/Van Denman, Thompson, 1890-1969 “United Methodist Hymnal” 1932 p 433

This afternoon, I sat down to the piano for the first time in over a month. I have missed it. Unfortunately, all my music is still packed away, and I don’t play by ear. However, El had a plan – as always. A book fell out of a box that I was moving. It was an old Methodist hymnal. Funny thing about God wink moments – nothing is a coincidence. The first page I opened the hymnal to was page 433. Hmmmmmmm…… Needless to say, the first song I played today was the hymn on page 433. smile emoticon

We are far from done. There is more junk still in the garage than is in the house. There are still many things that still need patching and re-newed. Hubby took a second big trailer of junk to the landfill. Together, we moved things. fussed at each other and fussed at each other again, and planned the master bathroom in more detail that we hoped to start soon. But underneath it all, we could hear the house say she understands and is happy just to have us here. This morning she wondered if she had become our home yet. Tonight I am telling her, “Yes, we have come to you, and you – imperfect as you are – we chose you to be our home.”

On this third day of Lent, I pick up another stone and place it in my bowl. Home. Home – here on earth. Home – in the arms of family. Home – to those that are entrusted to our sphere of care. Home – as imperfect as we are – in the heart of a Father who sent His Son – to choose to make His Home with us. Our house has become our Home —- our Temple.

“As for this temple you are building, if you follow my decrees, observe my laws and keep all my commands and obey them, I will fulfill through you the promise I gave to David your father. And I will live among the Israelites and will not abandon my people Israel”~1 Kgs 6:12–13

front housea


kingdom aMy heart has been heavy today. My mind reflective. My eyes watery. My prayers continuous despite the business of trying to line everything up for the move to our new home. You see, a friend decided to take a trip out of the fiery turmoil of painful days, through the rising waters that engulfed the night in a starless darkness to a place where she could walk with her shepherd in a beautiful field of wild flowers.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”~Is 43:2

Our English vocabulary is often inadequate. “Love” – “Friends” are words used often in our culture. Words thrown around helter-skelter until the wisdom of the word becomes a blurred image of what it should represent.

We have “friends” on Facebook. We have “friends” in the workplace. We have “friends” that we hang with every now and then. We “love” ice cream. We “love” the latest celebrity that has incited us to drool.

Perhaps that is why I am fascinated with Hebrew. Each letter, each jot and tittle, sways the meaning within the context of the other words around it. While a word may technically represent a definition, the subtleties of the marks and surrounding words change the connotation and interpretation.Wisdom hidden in the word – waiting to be found.

“You, Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.”~Ps 18:28

Today, I am remembering my friend. Her laughing voice that carried a smile through every word. A smile that always traveled in her eyes. The way she introduced herself when she was the “new” kid in our small rural junior high school How she was always rushing in where I feared to tread and daring me to follow.

Like most friends, we laughed. We spent hours on the phone (you know – those contraptions with long cords and parents hanging on every word). We cheryl 1970 awhispered…over boys. We cried…over boys. We fought..over boys. I wrote poetry…over boys…when she was heart-broken, and she took me for long drives when I was in the same weepy state…over boys. We double dated. We married – I was her maid of honor and 10 years later, her second marriage to the same man – inspired hubby and me to pull off our wedding in just a few weeks. We raised our children along side each other.We went years without talking and then talked for hours as if we had just talked the day before. Our cell phones on speaker as we moved around – laughing about life – planning future visits – and crying when the pain was at its worse.

I can count on one hand the friends that truly “know” me. They have seen past the surface and know my ugliness – my pain – my sorrow – my love – just as I know theirs. They have walked some pretty dark paths with me and provided Light when I was sure I would never see the Light again because my chosen path was so bloody, filthy and littered. And even though I wasn’t always the “best-of-friends”, Cheryl was one of those friends who provided a Light unto my path when I needed it.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God]; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”~Jn 14:1-4

Our last conversations these past few months always circled back to Our Father pig roast 1993and His Son. She knew the Shepherd was waiting in the field just beyond the mist, and she had found the path home. I admire her courage, her fortitude as she walked this last path, and I can’t believe that she won’t be on the other end of my phone any more. Yet here I am – smiling as I write this because she has done it again. She has rushed ahead of me and I can see her daring me to follow. She is my friend, and she knows that eventually, I will get there. I’ll tell you this, when I do arrive, she better be ready to talk for a few hours. Hopefully – we won’t have to use a phone, her voice will be laughing, and I will be able to see that sparkling smile in her eyes again. Love you, Cheryl, and Blessings!Be! to your family.


feet a“If we could be but children, small children
Blessed is He who could make us forget
the distress of our years.
With a long road yet ahead to our becoming,
Becoming older, sadder, and nostalgic.
But rose-souled children
Plucking joy like wildflowers
Whose world is not yet over,
With the sun laughing in the glint of their tears.”~Rachel Bluwstein Sela, known
as Rachel the Poetess

Ran across this poem today as I was reading devotions, and it touched that special chord that rings of truth within me. Aging does tend to take something out of us. Poets like to use metaphors. Simple stories that remind us of some profound truth that we have somehow forgotten. The stories often touch that small part of us that still identifies with the magical – the mystical – the spiritual – that child-like faith.

“And because Yeshua himself knew The Father had given everything into his hands and that he had gone out from God and he would go to God, He arose from supper and put off his robe and took a towel and tied it around his waist.”~Jn 13:3-4

Did you ever notice all the small stories and metaphors that are used in the Bible? People love stories. It starts when we are children with storybooks and continues throughout our lives: TV’s – movies – books – plays – even our music. God used stories in the Old Testament. Rabbi Yeshua knew a good thing when He saw it and Last often taught using metaphors and small stories when he taught as well.

“He took water in a wash basin and began to wash the feet of his disciples, and he wiped them with a towel which he had tied around his waist….” ~Jn 13:5

It is this part of the story that catches my breath in my throat. Did the discripes truely realize who was kneeling in front of them…..washing their feet? If it was me, would I? I fear that I would not have been so wise. Such symbolism in this simple act – such a strong metaphor that continues to bless the world with its intense visual – the Bridegroom washing away the physical dirt of His bride before His blood spiritually washes away the dirtiness of her soul.

“Do you know what I have done to you?” You call me, ‘our Rabbi’ and ‘Our Lord’, and you say rightly, for I am. If I therefore, your Lord and your Rabbi, have washed your feet for you, how much more ought you to wash one another’s feet? For I have given you this example, that you also should do in the same way as I have done to you.Timeless truth I speak to you: there is no servant greater than his master and no apostle is greater than he who sent him. If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them.” Jn 13:12-17

A child would have known. A child understands the story better than any adult. A ‘rose-souled [child], plucking joy like wildflowers whose world is not yet over, with the sun laughing in the glint of [her] tears‘. Perhaps…maybe…possibly today, my childish self would recognize my LORD as He kneels at my feet. For today, I have laid another foundational stone. Understanding the LOVE of my LORD, FREEDOM from sin as He washed my feet, KINGDOM comes in its fullness of His righteousness and His PEACE surrounding each stone I have laid .

[google images]maundy thursday



loudonville fountain“For he makes the wilderness pools of waters and a thirsty land into springs of waters.” Ps 107:35 (ABPE)

Today was truly the Sabbath. Blessings followed blessings followed blessings. The best one was a visit from Mama Mickey. A post from January 2013 resurfaced today. It was a video of my mom that I had posted on her birthday before I retired from teaching. Since I don’t believe in coincidences, I think she was letting me and my daughter know that she loved our “GrandmaMickey Day” with the Grands yesterday. I am doubly sure that she and Dad were laughing as hard as they coudl as they watched the hubby getting “dressed-up” in her old stuff. (What we do for love and our Grands!) The wilderness of my life became lush with a fountain of living water.

If we’re lucky, the “wildness” of this life becomes tolerable as our parents share their waters of their “fountain”. Later, as we journey away from their fountain, we drink from other fountains. Sometimes the water is okay. Sometimes, the water clouds our vision with invisible minerals that we do not percieve. And sometimes…sadly…the water slowly poisons us until the body can not function at all. Parched and dying, the spirit shrivels into the crevices of the physical body waiting for that one drop of “life”.

“Yeshua stood, and he proclaimed and said: “If a man is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.Everyone who trusts in me, just as the scriptures have said, rivers of living water shall flow from within him.” ~Jn 7:37b-38(ABPE)

Holy Week began today. Chruches around the world celebrated the one day when the people crowded around the fountain and reached out their hands toward its water. If the people were anything like we are – some of them actually drank of the water in that fountain. The spirit within revived and flourished with its richness. Others reached for the fountain put didn’t have the courage to drink the water. Instead, they let it dribble through their fingers where it fell upon the earth. Had their spiritual eyes been opened, they might have noticed the blossoms that bloomed in the dust at their feet, but instead they moved on – trampling the tender blossoms beneath their feet. And some, stood at the back of the crowd. Their hands hanging limply at their sides as they scoffed at the others who drank from the fountain.

Holy week is a time to return to the fountain and look deeply into its waters. Sometimes the water is still, quiet and peacerful. Other times, the waters roll and sparkle with bubbly crests of gaiety. Still other times, the waters are troubled and fearfully dark with storms. But – if one is brave enough to push through the crowd, reaching their hand deep into the waters to drink from it, they will find the waters in this fountain are all embued with LOVE….passionate… personal… eternal… living waters.

The fountain is there. The rest is up to you.

(google images of Loudonville, Mohicanville, OH)

4 of 7: JOY

HobbitDJ4 of 7: JOY. “The birth of Christ is the eucatastrophe of man’s history.” ~ John Ronald Reuel Tolkien (1892-1973)

pictures-by-jrr-tolkien-24-728Today is the day. A day when magic and amazing creatures emerge from their hiding place as the Hobbit returns to the big screen one last time. Did you know that Tolkien was a very staunch Catholic? That he fought in WWI? Had four children (one became a priest), and… at one time…had no idea what a Hobbit was? Did you know that he wrote the series as a warning as he watched the rise of Hitler and hatereds of the 1930’s? JOY was a hard thing to find as the world struggled to recover its balance after “the war to end all wars”.

“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit“. ~unknown Oxford student of J.R.R. Tolkien written on a blank final exam page.

JOY for a teacher often comes from the students. In this case, the above quote is what started Tolkien on the journey of his life. He had no idea what a hobbit was, but ever curious, he began to wonder, research and “see” the story in another world unfold in his mind. Ancient battle between darkness and light was being re-born  in a new allegory. JOY was born in his children as they listened to his bedtime stories of hobbits and elves and drawfs. JOY to the literary community as story after story bloomed from his soul and pen. JOY to the world as the stories he wrote became classics to generations of children. A story that told his beliefs of right vs wrong – light vs darkness – principalities vs principalities – rebellion of children and their Father.

Tolkien used the word eucatastrohpe to describe the moment when light utterly MS-Tolkien-drawings-28destorys darkness, and righteousness returns to reign over the world once more. God has written a book that could be called “LORD of All Creation”…a story that took shape not only on stone tablets but in our hearts, our minds and our souls as well. He sent JOY to replace the sadness of sin. LOVE to warm the coldness of a stormy night. HOPE to ease our fears and sorrows with a world spinning out of our control. Advent is a time to see the JOY, the LOVE, the HOPE in all things around us and to remember the Son who, though born as lowly as a hobbit, would one day deliver eucastastrophe to the world forever.. (Do you see why Tolkien chose the Hobbit to save the world now?)

(google images of Hobbit images)

7 of 7: LOVE

7 of 7: LOVE. Today was just a plain ol’ wonderful, busy, LOVE-filled day. Flipped the matteress, MELT classes, vibratory experience with legs in a crystal bowl (Shades of the 70’s return, but a very interesting re-visit…If Santa is reading this,I10614331_10152515894453461_1766569928552304517_n want one of those for Christmas), ran a couple things to the daughter for her Christmas party, laundry, cleaned house (kinda), made another batch of lemon crinkle cookies (everyone fights over them), and 3 batches of homade Bailey’s Irish Creme (everyone fights for this as well), went to her party, and home to watch Santa Claus(e). I think I’m officially into the Christmas festivities mood.

LOVE seems to be in the air. New movies come to the theaters, musical productions to attend – art/craft shows to peruse and shop – gifts to buy – classic Christmas movies on TV. People are laughing — humming along with the songs in the store — smiling more at the people they pass. Get that busy, holyday feeling yet? I wonder. Is this the way He wants to see us celebrate His LOVE? Things are not always the way they look on the outside, and I begin to wonder yet again.

“The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” 1 Sam 16:7b

In all my busyness today, I missed my time in the WORD. I missed “my time” of “LOVING” today, “my time” of “wonder” in the miracle that was proclaimed so many years ago, “my time” spent in LOVE with Our Father who LOVES us more than we can ever begin to imagine. Then I remembered – it was my choice of what I did with “my time”. Obviously – I chose poorly……..again.

It is easy to “see” the Christmas the way society wants us to “see” it. Tinsel glistening in the colored lights of reality. The harder thing is seeing beyond the colors and seeing Christmas through His LOVED-filled eyes. He doesn’t look at the shiny packages, or the colored lights, or the glossy packaging of the latest entertainment idol. He looks through LOVE’s eyes instead – modeling for us a new way to “see” the miracle He created just for us – a way to “see” ourselves through His eyes. Eyes full of the multitudinous galaxies He is creating, created, will create. Eyes wide open to beauty of a baby born in a stable. Leaving us with a choice once again…a simple choice…just to open our eyes and see the way He sees.1173620_296568820485088_1407615929_n