BE PREPARED

I believe that is the Boy Scout motto.
It is a good motto for all of us.

As I reflect through this Holy Week, I think of that motto often.
Am I prepared to take the next step with God's son . . . as time speeds faster toward Maundy Thursday and Good Friday?

Am I truly preparing my surroundings . . .
and myself . . .
for the Tridium?
Tridium . . .
three of the most holy days of the Christian calendar.
Just as the Jewish people begin counting the days of the Passover at sundown Friday this year,
we begin counting our three most holy days at sundown Thursday.

In order to remain totally focused on what God wants to show me during those days of enveloping myself in His presence during the tridium,
I need to
whirl and swirl through . . .
what I think are important chores . . .
in order to remain focused on a very special time.

I need to be prepared for whatever may touch my spirit . . .
whatever might move me into a closer walk with Christ.

How do I prepare?
Let me count the ways . . .
I'll finish my study in James that was to be completed by now anyway.
I will read my lessons on the book of Acts so I feel ready when I teach next week.
I will continue writing three words of gratitude daily so that I do not fall behind in my goal of 1000 gifts of gratitude by the end of this year.
I will wash clothes,
    prepare a few foods to have on hand,
          clean the house as best I can,
make sure odds and ends are in order and then . . .
and then . . .
Tomorrow . . .
 I will linger  . . .
I will pray  . . .
I will focus on Jesus' last Passover celebration.
I will wash feet at church.
I will celebrate the passover feast one last time this week.
I will remain open to God's leading.
I will breathe deeply.
I will drink in the beauty of my surroundings.
I will feel the pain that Jesus felt, knowing fully what was ahead of him.
I will simply BE.

I will BE prepared.
I will be PREPARED . . .  as best I can.

God's Provision

It's Tuesday . . . quite late.
But I am following the challenge for Tuesday . . .  offered in my other blog.
We are invited to remember and give thanks for three of God's provisions.
God provides everything . . .  especially the ability for me to breathe . . . but my mind lingers elsewhere.

God provided just enough time for Jesus to complete his life on earth.
Time.
Limited,
finite,
calculated . . . just enough.

Jesus had limited, finite, calculated . . . just enough time to teach the twelve  to understand the events that would happen at the end of this week.
It's the last Tuesday that Jesus would spend on this earth.

My time is also finite.
I do not know how much time I have on this earth but I do know I only have
 24 hours each day,
 7 days per week,
52 weeks per year . . .
I have been given this gift for MANY years.
What have I done with it?
I have slept through one-third of it.
I have spun through a part of it.
I have wasted much of it.
I pray I have used wisely the rest.
Only God knows.
Time.
A precious gift . . . given to me . . .  whether I deserve it or not.

Second, God provided me with the use of all my senses.
It's an incredible gift.
Many are not given this gift.
I can see . . .
perhaps not perfectly . . .
but the gift makes me speechless.
For that matter, the ability to speak and hear what I say may be far more pleasing to me than anyone who might listen.

To smell what I see and taste without looking, is beyond comprehension.
When I read of Jesus' last days on this earth, all my senses are activated as if I were there.
 That's hard.
 I don't want to walk to the Cross with him.
But that's how I understand God's best provision for me.

Thus, the third gift God gave me is His presence . . . forever.
According to God's Word, I can take it or leave it.
"For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God . . . not the result of works so that no one may boast" [ Ephesians 2:8,9]
I can accept this . . .  or not.
For years I chose "not".
But then I spent time . . .
lots of time . . .
reading . . .
listening . . .
meditating . . .
letting God's words touch my heart . . .
gaining a taste for eternal life . . .
trying to understand what God was showing me.

God's gifts led me to the greatest gift I could ever know.
And it's only Tuesday.

Stepping Back

Today I follow the advice of my other blog.
 It's Monday.
It's time to STEP BACK.

I STEP BACK from the frenzy of cleaning the weekend messes.
I step back from my 'to-do' list . . .  although I will get to it eventually.
I step back from the shoulda, coulda, woulda moments of my life and simply reflect on one 'manna word' for today.

This is my Winter place. It's cozy warm.

I wait.
I wonder.
I linger in my lumpy quiet time chair.
It's getting late.
What is my 'manna word'?
O, silly me.
Its 'STEP BACK'!
Its time to breathe deeply.

I take extra moments to scribble notes in my journal and on my blog.
I linger a little longer as I slog through weekend emails . . .  all good.
I pop a couple U-Tube videos on my facebook page.

This journal is full.  Time to begin again.

Ahhhh, what a delight to breathe a little today.
Holy Week is upon us.
Reflection time each day will take a bit longer.
As the end of the week nears, my heart will become heavier.



 Today is a time to step back . . .  breathe in the day as I linger with the Lord.

MANNA

Manna.
That is the word given to me the other day as I sat quietly in the early morning hours.

Some say it is like hoarfrost, which
melts away in the warmth of the sun. 

Manna?  That's what the Hebrew people consumed during their forty years in the wilderness as they followed Moses.  In fact, some say that the manna stopped when Moses died . . . shortly before God's chosen people crossed the Jordan River into the Promised Land.

Mid-1400s
Beautiful rendering of manna gathering

An ancient rendering of manna gathering.
The Egyptian word for 'food' at that time
was mennu.  Did 'menu' derive from manna?

Manna.  A food that met all requirements for human survival.  A little sweet but no distinctive taste.  Must be gathered early in the day or it will disappear.  Cannot be kept overnight as it will rot . . .  except the day before the Sabbath . . . when the Hebrew people could take enough to consume on their day of rest.  There were about two million Hebrew people at that time so there was lots of manna gathering before their Sabbath.


Hmmmm.      Coriander.
When crushed, it smells fresh and delicately delicious.  Some say that manna was a bit like coriander.  It is often used in Christmas cookies.
I love recalling the history behind manna.  Wikipedia has pages full if you want to investigate further.  That's where I got the above pictures.  But, for me, today, this week, going into Holy Week, it says so much more.  I will go into greater depth if you want to look at my other blog:  womenofworthmin.com    but for now I simply reflect on the word, manna for my daily consumption.

Food for thought.
 God's words that come to me through prayer, scripture study,  and remembering verses that I have planted in my heart.
 Manna.
This feeding . . . it's so daily.
 A word given to me today has vanished by tomorrow . . .  or at least its impact is not the same.
 God is telling me to chew carefully on a word or words that seem to linger deep inside my soul on any given day.
My senses tell me to just be content to hear, read, mark, learn and inwardly digest a single word or a single sentence . . . even if it seems mundane . . .  tasteless.

Some days seem that way.
Tasteless.
 So daily.
 So non-exciting.
 Manna.
Just eat the moment.
 Digest the moment.
Let the moment, the word, the phrase . . .  fill the empty spaces deep inside of me so that I feel full.

Let a simple word, given to me in a mega-instant, fill me to overflowing even if I do not relish its content.  The reason I let go of extra sweets is so I could fully indulge in a sense of emptiness, as the hebrew people did, when I crave that which I do not need.

The manna I eat daily at lunch, filled with
hummus and a ripe tomato.  No extra sweets.
So, no Peanut butter and jelly until after Lent.

 Isn't life like that?  We want so much more than what we have surrounding us.   We look beyond our quiet-time chair or far beyond the view from our window.
It's 'MANNA TIME'!
 I empty artificial sounds from the room.
I close out extra stimulus that distracts me.
I simply sit or walk or explore my natural surroundings.
My day may be as basic as manna but oh what gifts lie in front of me.
What a gift it is to see the fat robin perched on our pole that has yet to hold our bird house.
I actually hear the screeching wind slip through the narrow expanse between our house and the new one next door.
I try to smell the dried apple slice as my tongue touches it and rolls it around a bit.
I taste a bit of acid with a bit of sweet.

Manna.  Apple chips must suffice as my sweet.
I relish them as I suck each thin 'crisp' melting in my mouth. 

  Any of my senses can be easily snatched away in an instant .
  If I learn to enjoy the simplicity of manna, a single sense will thrive.
Perhaps that is why the Jewish people spend the days of Passover eating matzah, unleavened, so like manna.
 We Christians also are called to fast from rich foods during Holy Week.  Learning to simplify, step back from indulgence, appreciate the senses given to us at any single moment, may prepare us for the incredible feast of God's presence in our lives.
Manna.
The more I chew on this word, the better it tastes.

Spring has Sprung!

WOW!
 We kept waiting for the snow to fall and nothing happened.
 All of a sudden we are enjoying 70 degree days, at least by mid-afternoon.
     The sun shimmers on golden buds.
           Birds chirp with delight.
 What a wonder!
 I linger at the window a little longer each morning and even venture outside to clean up the garden.

Yesterday, as we drove around the farmland that surrounds us, we discovered that Spring has sprung.  It's almost as if God drew His hand across the land and woke up dormant vegetation.
How glorious to see flowering bushes and trees that show their majestic age.  Growing old can't be all that bad if the bold buds on bushels of branches cause people to stop and take pictures.
 God's creation can be a real show stopper!

This patch of Forsythia must have taken MANY years
to expand.  The sunny glow invites us to linger for a while.

And then we have the new little bunch we planted, below . . .  so young and fragile looking.

The lovely little buds punch through the spring air and say to us, 

       "We can bloom just as nicely as that big ol' clump.  We just need a bit more time."
 Isn't that the story of our lives?
 We just need time to bloom as majestically as our elders.
If we simply linger a little longer in our journey with God, we will bloom more fully and gloriously as we age.

This Forsythia is from our little garden.
We planted it two years ago.  It will take
forever to look like the clump above but
we have all the time in the world.

 And then there is this grand dame.  Oh, what beauty!
 She has earned the right to outdo all the other trees in the neighborhood.   This Magnolia tree  has endured sixty years of who knows what.
 She endures the years to show us her strength of character.
As she stands tall she sends forth a scent that offers the bystander a moment of true bliss.  We linger a little longer as we drink in sweetness.

The owner of this gorgeous Magnolia was in the yard
when we stopped the car to take a picture. 

Our poor Daffodils kept popping up all winter, that was more
like Spring.  They are weak from trying so hard but the
Tulips are not far behind.  See the leaves?

It's that determination we see in the Daffodils that reminds me never to give up.  Keep 'popping up' when the weather seems right even if it is the wrong time of year.  It's sort of like our life journey.  We might pop into a situation that seems 'made for us' only to find out it was best to wait awhile.  The challenge is not to get tired of 'popping' up even if it is not yet the perfect time to bloom.  Determination is like that.

I decided to take a picture of our dogwood before it
begins to bloom.  I so love the bright red twigs when
they seem to "pop"  against the snow,
 which we did not have this year.

Oh to be a twig again, so slender, such a contrast compared to other growth.   All too soon this Dogwood will fill with soft green leaves edged in vanilla.  Unique all year, it stands out in all seasons.
              Oh to stand tall and to know we are growing exactly as God created us to grow.  Each of us is so unique.  We might as well enjoy the journey in all seasons, no matter what challenges confront us.

And so we move on.  Who knows what tomorrow will bring.
 May it all bring JOY to the soul.
Ahhhhh, early Spring.

My EYES of March

March is soft this year.  

No snow.

Plenty of time for green to show up in the most wonderful places.  

I drink in new vistas as we go about our daily business.

My eyes march forth to grasp green, blue, shades of gray and bright red.

I find little time to write in this space right now.

 I am doing so much other writing.

So, I simply look, 

click the camera,

 admire,

 breathe the fresh air

 and let my eyes

enjoy March.

An old boat house and abandoned cottage.
I love the colors of stone and the tiny loft windows. I love the oldness of it all.

This is a familiar picture as it is the 'signature' picture for my blog.

I thought I would let you know a little more about it since it is my favorite picture of all time.  It's from a church in a popular sea-side town.  It is also on my computer 'desk top' so am able to enjoy it daily.

This side of a very old church looks so worn
just before it is to receive a new coat of paint.
White becomes a pale sea-green and blue becomes crisp white.
I learned this when I walked around to the back

A peek at the world from the garden.
The 'lace fan' draws my eye upward.
The heavy iron gate, softened by sturdy ferns,
 opens into a world of water.

A dead fern clutches to a worn box.
It is still in use and oh so practical.
I love red, so beautiful with green.

 I give these surprisingly warm and sunny days a chance to renew my dormant body.  I am sure rain will come.  But, for now, my 'eyes of March' linger on such delights as these.

Time MARCHes on!

And so we come to the month of MARCH!
 Time is moving too fast . . . especially since I have slowed down to a crawl and choose to linger longer in my favorite chair near the window . . .
and write reflections in my journal . . . and prepare for the classes I teach and the Lenten retreat I will lead all too soon.

   

My friend has this pillow on her couch.  I love it.
It says it all.  Nest: a place of retreat

  My urge to "nest" seems stronger this time of year.

I hide from the chill of the wind that screams outside.
We are blessed that we only hear the noise.
Very little is disturbed . . .  except untended trash once in awhile.


I get the yen to plant something when I see tulip leaves cutting through soggy soil . . . too soon, I think.  Perhaps they are more hearty than I imagine.  If we are ever to get snow of any magnitude it would have to be this month.  Yet, I don't see the temps dropping any time soon.

Tulips in a pot were given to me two years ago.
I simply planted them the next Spring and they
have doubled!

Basil, Thyme, Parsley, Cilantro & Chives
in clay pots are 'hung' on a little stand.

    So, I decided to plant seeds inside.         Herb seeds.
  It will be good to have a little green inside once they begin to rise above their hiding places in the dirt.

I poured water on these pellets and suddenly I have 'dirt.'
I then carefully pressed the seeds into this mixture, laid a tiny bit more dirt on top, watered again and . . . wait.

Each day I take the spray bottle and sprinkle to maintain the moisture level.

Can you see how the clothes pins work?
Now I wait for something to happen.

I don't want to flood the seeds with too much water.

I found some clothes pins to hold the little tags I created out of construction paper . . .  and then
I placed the pins, up-side-down, on the edge of each pot.
Voila! ... I will now know what is growing . . .  or not growing . . .  as the case may be.


The need to grow . . .  life . . .  God's natural rhythm is to grow . . . us . . . just as plants grow.  'Remember, that we are dust(dirt) and to dust(dirt) we shall return.'  We must die before we can live . . . as the Apostle Paul says, "To live is Christ and to die is gain."    May we see ourselves in these little seeds . . .  growing only when nurtured and loved and encouraged to live.

After just a few days I see life!
Unfortunately, even with my elbows on a solid surface, my little
 'point and shoot' camera could not remain steady

At least you get the idea.
Now to remain vigilant.