Piles of donations

The flood in Sept. 2011 almost wiped out our little town.

I just found this as a 'draft'

We learned that whatever the crises might be, there are always helping hands

with plenty to share with those who lost everything.

God's abundance is always amazing.

Aftermath of the flooding lingers longer than anticipated. 

Our donation distribution center had to move but remains open in the new location and is now open for those beyond our county.  Some families lost everything and sought clothing for all seasons.  Other families who stored winter clothing in the basement sought enough for the winter.  

There is plenty for everyone ... even teens found great stuff.   

 And food!  Oh my.  Not only the normal food bank donations but for the first couple of weeks there was fresh milk, eggs and meat ... even some freshly decorated cakes.  Donations continue to exceed demand.

 My little 'point and shoot' camera could not take in the immense size of this warehouse.  The lights give you some insight.  There is another building behind this one that is filled with furniture, TVs, appliances (which are snatched up  as fast as they came in) and so much more.  Each day is a surprise.

One of our favorite ice cream and fun food places was flooded in the basement but the water reached only a couple inches into its main floor.  So, a bit of ice cream for many of us was a nice interlude on this gorgeous, cool day.  Having this place open gave everyone hope that life could get back to 'normal' sooner than later.
We lingered on the hill behind this 'hut' as we sat at a picnic table in the middle of a sweet garden ... which I forgot to photograph.

The rains have ebbed to the point that we can finally begin to dry out a bit.  We hold our breath as the ground seems too soggy to hold much more moisture. All too soon we will shiver in the midst of frozen tundra and wonder what all the fuss was about... maybe.

Footnote regarding one of the two little churches (previous post) ...  just a few hours of labor from about fifteen people and we created a new worship space in the 'newer' section of the church property.   The 'old' church is a historic site so we hope they will soon find the funds from grants etc. to rebuild the foundation.

NOVEMBER MEMORIES

[I wrote this nearly 2 years ago and found it as 'unpublished' ... enjoy a bit of nostalgia.]

Sometimes life gets so hectic that I cannot take a minute to linger longer with this blog.

Everyone tells me to 'take a time out' and then one more unintended event squeezes

itself into my 'down' time.

That said, I did take time to take a few photographs during the fabulous month of November.

Even though it snowed, we had a great Fall.

Below, is an image from our back yard.

If you look closely you will see cows munching on grass and enjoying our warm weather.

At least before the snow that hit all of us about mid-month.

Doesn't this look like a Courier and Ives painting?
Sun glistens on empty fields.  Green grass lingers as deciduous trees loose their leaves.

This farm is to the left of the one you see above.
 We drive by it daily and think nothing of what goes on inside.
 Little do we know that these two farms grow feed
for the pampered "Kryder Cows" about a mile down the road.

In November we were offered a tour of the Kryder estate that has been around for well over 100 years.
This is the 'main' house that has been passed down from one family member to another.
From their front door they can see the entire 'cow' operation.

I always wondered why a very 'high tech' farm had rubber tires laying around.

It's the best weight and mobility to move on top of special tarps that cover a 

specific mix of feed hay for the cows.  As the heat from the 'mix' expands, the tires 

hold the gasses 'in check.'  

The tires have holes in the rubber rims so that they

can 'breathe' and not cause more expansion problems as 

tarp rises from the heat of the mixture.

This is what we see when the tires and tarp are removed.

It's a very dense, rich mix of feed for these pampered queens.

Nothing like seeing the backs of cows.  They are milked three times every 

twenty-four hours.  Only two people work the rotating circle.

This woman washes and cleans the cows.  A guy we don't see (far left) 

cleans and attaches the mechanical pumps to the udders.

In the time it takes for the cow to go 'full circle' the milking is done.

The cows can't wait to be milked.  Once led into the milking barn from their well kept 'digs,' 

they move automatically to the single opening of the 'round about.'

This milking process is Kosher - a rabbi lives on the premises and comes to the 

milking barn every 1/2 hour before the next milking (every eight hours) to 

make sure the entire process of preparation for milking is kept 'kosher.'

It's an exacting process so this rabbi is busy.

Here is a better shot of the cows streaming in on their own. 

They know what they like and go for it.

The only two humans we saw were the two who were

cleaning and attaching the mechanical milkers to the udders.

Along with cows, this farm is one of the largest producers of eggs in Pennsylvania.

This 'high tech' feed process is state of the art.

Chickens are kept pristine clean, given the right amount of space and fed

with a very nutritious feed.  Chicken and cow manure is processed in such

a way that it does not smell.  It is turned into a fine powder that is so 

sanitary that it is used for cow bedding. This photo is taken showing the 'pit' in the foreground.

SUNBURST!

[I wrote this 16 months ago and just found it as 'draft'.  Enjoy a bit of summer in November]
It's already July?
How does time fly by so fast?

It's been two months since I lingered at this post.
OH MY!
Each month I think I have plenty of time to write but all too often each day eats up my precious time.

Don't ask me what I do all day.
I know I do a lot of preparing for Sundays.
I know I linger a little too long in my study mode, which fills up my soul.

I finally looked out,
in the midst of another rain storm, and saw three-foot tall weeds in the middle of my beautiful day lilies.

I took a moment when the sun popped out to run around the yard quickly and pull the most noticeable of these scrawny defiers of beauty.
A weed is anything that looks really ugly in the midst of my fabulous flowers.

What a month.
A baptism.
A wedding.
A death . . .  my brother.
I'd hoped he would fare better than he did but he just got too tired to fight.
I don't blame him.
Life is tough when we feel healthy.
Life has got to be tougher when the body is fighting hard to simply get through each day.

As I slowly pop my head out of the cocoon I created around my grieving soul, I see a SUNBURST for summer!

Flowers weave in this mountain wind.
Fuchsia roses pop out of red-green leaves.
Purple bells 'jingle' as they burst out of Hosta.

Orange against blue.
Magenta against yellow.
Green overlapping green with streaks of white popping out to surprise me.

It's nice to look out into life even if all I see is plant life.
Grass grows,
clover spreads,
corn rises into the sky,
oats wave in the swift breeze.

Silence today . . .  finally.
No lawn mowers.
Just the sweet sound of rushing air pressing through stalks of forsythia branches, now green.

I linger a little longer in the quiet.

HOPE BLOOMS

Blooms are everywhere, not knowing what might happen the next day.
Birds flit about with happy song.
A spirit of 'nesting' is in the air.

Who knew that April would bring more snow than rain thus far.
Who knew that spring blooms would weather the storm?
Forsythia is so amazing.
I think the reason Forsythia blooms so early is that there must be a sense of 'hope' in its DNA.
When the snow came, the blooms remained.

Forsythia is forever faithful.
Its blooms remind me that the roses need feeding.
Then I notice the rose bushes with red leaves beginning to pop rosy blooms in the future.

Early blooming shrubs, bulbs and whatever must indeed have the internal clock that says, "Bloom, no matter what happens, Bloom."
That sense of hope is so imbedded inside the stems that blooms POP in spite of snowy days.

Everyone knows that we can't plant until after Mother's day or May 15th, whichever comes last,
especially in these northern slopes that contend with wind chill temps that bring us below freezing in the middle of April.

In spite of the weather, Spring blooms and so does my spirit.
If blooms can keep moving forward with climate change at a moment's notice, I can too.

My life is changing again.
I've been through so much change over my life span that sometimes I think my soul is like Forsythia.

It does not matter the temperature of my life or the season of my life.
Change happens, whenever.
That sense of HOPE during those changes keeps me going.
The hope is so deep within my spirit that I automatically sense its strength.
My hope in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
My hope in the new covenant gift of Jesus Christ who completes my understanding of the Trinity.

Hope cannot last long without my hope in the One who IS . . .  forever . . . my salvation.

I grieve over friends made over the past few years who will remain where they are as I move on.
God called us into that family and God called us out.
All I have to do is follow God's lead, just as forsythia follows the lead of its DNA in nature.

It's natural for me to keep moving, keep looking forward, keep on keeping on, through storms or through sweet spring days when the sun shines endlessly after the dark winter passes.

Although I am edging toward the winter of my life, my spirit whispers hope of spring-like adventures.
I want to bloom again, in a different place with a different focus.

Yet, I'm called to step back for a few months, release all ties to my current vocation, and rest.
It all sounds wonderful.
Easier said than done.

Only the the Presence, the Spirit of God, will help me to remain quiet, be still, and remind me that Hope will draw me through each day.

Hope reminds me to REJOICE and give blessing for the gifts of each day.
Just like forsythia growing strong in the midst of a snow storm, I can grow, heal and grow strong during this time of change.
I'm getting excited about this new adventure in BEING and not doing.
HOPE blooms deep within me . . .  the hope that I can still be used by God in ways that naturally flow from my soul.

THE DANCE OF HOPE

Those who followed Jesus into Jerusalem had been with him for some time.  

They knew what might happen but their hopeful hearts grasped onto the fact that Jesus asked for a donkey that had never been ridden.  Only a king rides a donkey that never had been ridden. 

Perhaps the ever-wondering followers of Jesus felt a burst of hope that this passive, loving prophet of prophets 

would suddenly change and become a powerful king who would overthrow the Roman oppression and bind up those who were against this person who had transformed thousands of Jewish lives.

Hope rose high as throngs of people ran before Jesus and laid their cloaks at the feet of the donkey and waved palm branches as

Jesus entered through the Jerusalem gate.  

Perhaps they remembered the power of God working through Moses and Aaron at the first passover.  

Perhaps this present passover would reveal the power of God turning the world up-side-down so that the Jews were on top instead of on the bottom of the heap of good fortune.

Ahhh, the first passover. 

The last of the plagues when the angel of death passed over the homes of the Hebrew people who had sacrificed an unblemished lamb and painted the shed blood of the lamb on the posts and lintels of their doorways.  

God sent one man, Moses, to free the hebrew slaves from Egyptian oppression.  

Moses only had Aaron and Marion to help him and look what happened. 

The first born of the hebrew males survived the angel of death passing over Egypt and almost a million people fled Egypt in the Exodus.  

The powerful acts of God had been celebrated from that first passover to this one which Jesus was planning to celebrate in Jerusalem, as was required for devout Jews.

Hope danced in the streets as Jesus entered this city that the disciples knew was dangerous.  

If Jesus did not sneak in, if he not only entered through the main gate but entered as a king would enter, for all to see and hail, Jesus must know something big was going to happen.  

Trust, hope, assurance, a festive spirit embraced the mob. 

So far so good. 

The Romans did not seem bothered by this

maze of marvelous joy.  

And so hope rose. 

People went their way.  

They knew good things would happen during this Passover feast. 

Their salvation experience centuries earlier freed them from bondage.  

Perhaps this would be another salvation experience . . . where new freedom would unbind the rigid laws and expectations the leaders had laid on the Jewish people.  

Jesus could overcome the emperor and Roman soldiers in the same way Moses and Aaron had done so long ago.

So, with joy, the disciples found a place just for Jesus and the twelve. 

They gathered together for the Passover feast.  

Joy, hope and light conversation slowly crept into a solemn time of listening to their Lord and being surprised by his deep love for the ones who had spent three years with him.  

The washing of feet by one whose feet should be washed, the words of wisdom that seemed too lofty to understand, the questions that met the stone heart of the deceiver in their midst. 

Hope turned to conviction as Judas stormed out into the black night.

The Passover feast that usually lasts many hours became a time of instruction and prayer in the garden.  

Wait, watch, stay awake. 

Too much wine, so tired, sleep overtook the the disciples as Jesus prays hard, sweating drops of  blood. 

Hope dwindles as the few closest to Jesus see his pain and hear his agonizing words to the Father.  

When is Jesus going to turn the world up-side-down?  

When is he going to free those enslaved by a government that denies the Jewish people so much freedom?

And then hope is dashed when Jesus is arrested and tossed from one leader to the next and moved about all night and mocked and scorned and then . . .  

Hope is smothered when this sinless man is condemned to the most wretched of deaths, death on the Cross.  

The worst part is seeing the disciples flee, implode and deny

their bond with Jesus. 

The betrayal may have been the most hopeless moment for Jesus.  

Did he spend three years mentoring these leaders for nothing? 

Jesus’ hope is in the Father.  

Through the Father, all that is . . . should. .  be. . . as. . . it. . . is . . .  Prophecy must be fulfilled.  

Each phrase of scripture the hebrew people knew well was being fulfilled as Jesus was flogged and led to his death.

And Hope bloomed for those left behind when Jesus breathed, “Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

As Jesus hung on the cross, slowly dying, hope rose from the abyss as the man hanging next to him asked if he could enter paradise.  “Jesus, remember me, when You come into Your Kingdom.” 

Hope breaths life into another who is dying.  

Hope died on the cross so that others might see, feel, know, understand . . . the hope that was and is and is to come.

All is dark … silent . . .  empty.

But hope never fails.  

God so loved the world that He gave us his only Son to die on the Cross.  

Any and all who have a swirl of faith and can believe in God’s Son will not only have eternal life but will dance in everlasting hope by faithfully believing in the love of Christ Jesus, our Lord.   Amen 

BE MY VALENTINE

This special day dedicated to St. Valentine originated from the actions of this devout Christian bishop who defied the laws of the officials in the mid 200s.  

He could not stop sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ so was confined in a local jail.  

During that time he preached the gospel to whomever would listen.  

The judge at the time challenged Bishop Valentine’s Christian faith by saying, “If you believe in the power given to you by God in Christ Jesus, heal my daughter of blindness.”  Valentine not only healed his daughter but the judge and all 44 members of his family became Christians. 

So did all the jail guards.  

The judge then freed every Christian who had been jailed because they would not denounce their faith in Christ Jesus.  

Later, Bishop Valentine went to Rome and was preaching the Gospel, which was illegal to do at the time because  

Claudius II was the only ‘god’ the people should embrace.  

Bishop Valentine was arrested but seemed to be in good stead with Claudius II while he was under arrest.  

Bishop Valentine even healed a jailer’s blind daughter.  Claudius II circulated an edict that no Christian couples could marry but Bishop Valentine defied that edict and married Christian couples who had been jailed for their faith.

Because Bishop Valentine had a good relationship with Claudius II and had performed miracles, he was bold enough to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ with Claudius II. 

This enraged Claudius II and Bishop Valentine was sentenced to scourging until near death and then decapitation if he did not reject his Christian faith.  

Of course he could not do this.   

The day of his death, Feb. 14, Bishop Valentine wrote a note to the jailer’s daughter who had been healed of blindness and signed it, "Your Valentine."

 From this story the tradition began, several centuries later, to send a note of love and encouragement and sign it, “Your Valentine.”    

St. Valentine is the patron saint of plagues, bee keepers, fainting, travelers engaged couples, married couples, young couples and LOVE.

All we need to do is follow the example of St. Valentine: To love others more than ourselves by sharing an act of kindness. 

 Make a list of all the ACTS of kindness that you  see demonstrated this week.

Perhaps you are the recipient of kind acts or the giver of kind acts.

If we each do an act of kindness every day that is as simple as smiling at someone who is having a bad day, we can change the world . . .  one 'valentine' at a time.

A NEW YEAR TO LINGER!

I love these signs.  I am reminded of the many directions
I tend to spin on any given day.

I look at this blog and wonder why time filled my life-space so densely last year that I could not take a moment here and there to linger with words of wonder.

Like these signs, I have been going all directions some days and exclaiming my wonder at "How time flies!"

This year I plan to carve out linger-space.
It's time to share my wonders once in awhile.
I'll try. . . Just for you, my dear friends.

Perhaps I can fill these pages with delights for the soul and ignore my 'to do' list once in awhile.
Like today.

I wake up earlier than usual after staying up until midnight last night.
Hubby and I surprised ourselves.  This never happens.
We even watched the ball drop in Times Square!

A world with a view!

A new year . . . a new day . . . still bright as I turn on the lights on the manger, the tree and the wreaths.
I love the light piercing through these dark, cloudy days.

We keep lights, manger and tree up until the 12th day, Epiphany.
It's a wonderful excuse to linger a little longer with the Christmas story, with our celebration of a new beginning with God.
A new beginning.
What a JOY to know we can begin anew each year with new hopes, dreams and, perhaps, additions to our bucket list.

As I peek through my imagined window of opportunity I make my very practical list:
Answer all the wonderful Christmas and birthday notes I received this past week.

Place fresh placemats at our table to remind me of the new year.

Clean up and sort through piles of notes to be filed or tossed.

Hubby gave me little COUPONS to be used throughout the year.  I need to tuck these into a special place so I don't loose them.
Hubby also plans to sit with me to make a "Dream and Do"  list of whimsy options to get us out of

our daily rut and invite us to explore new places not too far from home.

This winter has been so mild that we are getting a bit spoiled.  I need to take advantage of this non-snowy weather while we still can.  The already cleaned-up garden can always use some tweaking if I brave the chill winds.

I move 2015 files that I'll be using in 2016 so I don't have to wade through reams of e-files.
I list all my must-get-done deadlines.
I'm already tired.
I wonder.
What if I carved out time just to reflect, every morning, as I sip my tea.
Now I am excited.
I pile up empty notebooks that can be filled, page by page, with words from God . . .  to chew on, to linger over, to embrace as possibility.
I already feel good!

One of today's scriptures is perfect for today - Numbers 24:26
  "The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord makes His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you.  The Lord lift up His countenance on you and give you peace."
A great blessing to begin the new year.