Monday, November 24, 2014

Q & A

As a princess, I want to conduct myself in a manner befitting my royal status.  I do not want my behavior or words to bring shame upon my Beloved or my Abba.  As the headlines and news feeds are filled with the suggestive subjects and the agenda of perversion, the openness of sexual discussion abounds.  I'm old enough to remember a time when much of what is now general conversation was only mentioned in hushed whispers with few details, and never in mixed company.  I am not backward per se when it comes to sexual discussion, but I do not appreciate coarseness.  I prefer to keep the subject of sexual matters to straight forward fact and function.  

On the other hand, I've never been terribly comfortable in discussing my own feelings on an emotional level when it comes to intimacy.  I find the topic of intimacy to be much more personal than sex.  With same sex marriage in the headlines, and the concept of being transgendered, introduced to elementary aged school children, obviously the subject of sex has gone far beyond fact and function.  Suddenly it seems as if there are no facts, just perverse imaginings that seem to have no end.  There are facts, though!  There are spiritual, emotional, and physical facts that simply cannot be ignored.

I've spent several years in a very non-intimate marriage, on every level . . . That's the old fashioned way of saying we are not soulmates, we don't share interests, we don't talk if we don't have to, and we do not "sleep together."  "Not soulmates," means we do not pray or share religious beliefs and "do not sleep together" is the old fashioned reference to celibacy in a relationship, and in my case, separate bedrooms.  Recently, in a conversation I was asked how I could be so content sharing nothing with my husband.  As I thought about that, I realized I would have to give up being the person Abba has created and called me to be, to be desired by him . . . I've seen the women this man finds attractive, and heard the words that reflect their character.

This thought made me wonder how many other people think they have to embrace something or accept the invasive opinions or belittlement by others to be accepted or wanted.  In all this talk of freedom and individuality, there are many, many expectations of conformity and compliance.  I can honestly say, without any doubt, the fact that I have an intimacy issue or lack does not make me look for another type of relationship.  It simply causes me to give pause and assess my priorities.  A relationship should enhance a person's life and bring out  the best in both, not cause one to give up their identity, dignity, integrity, and priorities to be accepted.  That is not love.

When it's all said and done, giving up one's birth right and identity to be accepted, will prove to have dismal results and returns.  We are not gender assigned at birth.  We are created in the womb with a purpose and a plan, and some of us may not have physical intimacy or desires as has been promoted by society or even religion.  That is no reason to embrace the perversion that is being promoted, or to silence those who live by Scriptural values.  Bakers and photographers have already been targeted by the agenda for their values, and now it's moved on to more reality tv.

Last year Phil Roberson was targeted for his comments, and this year apparently the Duggar's are in the sites of the LGBT agenda.  Although I am not a proponent of the full quiver concept or conception, as the case may be, I do defend the Duggar's rights to say what they choose and live according to their beliefs.  In all honesty, I don't qualify for the one man and one woman for life "marriage photo" on their page, but that doesn't mean they don't have the right to have their page.  Many of us are different from what is considered mainstream, but changing mainstream is not the answer.  For all those who question their identity, discovering G-d's Truth is the only answer.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Divine Intervention

As most of you know, I don't leave the place often, but when I do I have a list in hand!  This past Wednesday was business day in town.  Preferably, town day goes as planned, which is as quickly and efficiently as possible.  Mr. B was acting strangely that day, so I really wasn't looking forward to being trapped in the buggy with him for several hours.  I even gave consideration to "setting the tone," but Abba let me know He would not be pleased with that idea, so I opted for obedience.  In the time getting to town, I really thought about the choice I made.  What good would it have done to let Mr. B know he was being annoying?  When I have told him, in the past, he basically just shrugs his shoulders or tells me how it's my fault, which totally annoys me, further.  Why open the door for that?

So, the trip to town was efficient, and much was accomplished in less time than I thought it would take!  HalleluYah!  In traveling through town, making nine stops, there was only one close call in traffic, which is a good driving day for Mr. B.  There were three stops left to make and it wasn't really all that late.  Nine stops sounds like a lot, but in reality it's just a few minutes in several places, as I make business calls as well as take care of personal matters in the same trip.  It actually looked like we'd make it home before chore time was looming!  With earlier dark hours and colder temps, I don't like to push the envelope when it comes to evening chore time.  Perhaps if I didn't pack so many stops into a trip to town, they wouldn't be so dreaded, but then they'd have to be more frequent, so this present plan works pretty well.  This trip to town had more stops than usual.

As the afternoon was unfolding, the day seemed to be quite efficient, as I stopped at the Green Dollar Tree.  I don't really know the name of the store, but everything's a dollar.  As I got to the front of the store to  checkout, a woman was standing there with a basket.  I asked her if she was in line and she said, "No, I lost my keys."  Another woman was with her, and I of course jumped in with all the usual questions.  Have you retraced your steps?  Did you leave them in the car?  Yada . . . yada.  She was sure of all the places her keys could not be.  I prayed and went ahead and checked out.  I really wanted Abba to show me where her keys were.  She assured me that she'd already been out to her car and they weren't there, and she was simply going to call her son.  With that, I headed out with my purchases.

While placing the sacks in the buggy, I heard Abba tell me He'd take me to her keys.  I wasn't sure whether I should get in the vehicle or walk back to the store.  Mr. B. started the buggy.  As I got in, I heard "the keys were in her car," so I asked Mr. B if he'd please drive me over by her car.  I was thinking they had probably fallen into the floorboard as she was getting out.  I stepped up to peer in the driver's side window and couldn't really see the entire driver's side floorboard from that vantage point.   I walked around to the passenger window to get a full view of the floorboard on the driver's side.

 To my utter delight, the keys were in the ignition.  Since she'd told me she'd locked her car, I didn't try the door, I went to tell her, her keys were found.  It was then, she looked so surprised and told me she could only lock her car with her key from the outside.  To that I responded, "Answered prayer!"

We all walked out to the parking lot, I opened her door, and she along with the woman who was "helping her" shared a moment of rejoicing in the Father's goodness and giving Him glory.  Even in that extra time, the other two stops were efficient, and there was plenty of time before dark.  There has been a recurring thought since that day.  I can't help but think, if I'd have made the other choice at the beginning of the trip to town in dealing with Mr. B, that I probably wouldn't have heard Abba at all.  



Sunday, November 9, 2014

Reality

A thought occurred to me the other day.

Keeping alive the "old arts" of self-sustainability, sewing, knitting, crocheting, and canning are talents I am grateful to have been given, but . . . Here I've been thinking about doing what the older generations did, when a simple reality hit me.  I am now a member of an "older generation!"  That just slipped right up on me.  I remember delighting in being a young mother and young grandma, and young great grandma, but that's still 3 descending generations.  No way around it.  I'm not a young woman keeping the old arts alive, I'm now an older woman, thinking the younger ones need to be learning what I'm doing.

I have to chuckle at my denial.  The reality first hit in 2012.  A long hard year, a couple of serious injuries, and by late August, there was an old woman looking back at me in the mirror.  I've since been somewhat renewed and refreshed, but the reality remains.  After recovering from the spiritual attack that ensued after writing, "Can We All Be Wrong?" and the difficult lesson from Matthew 10; I was then blessed with a great granddaughter.  Although feeling much better about life, the reality remains, young women are simply not great grandmas!

In the past few weeks, I received an email from a gentleman making enquiry of ministry and homesteading.  Phone numbers were exchanged and we had a conversation regarding self-sustainability and living by faith.  In that conversation, he made a comment that he'd expect a much older less attractive person to be doing what I'm doing and included a compliment regarding my social media profile pic.  Before I even considered thanking him for the compliment, I asked him point blank, if he was sure he had contacted the right person.  Life has simply moved past feeling young and pretty.  In moving past that, however; I am blessed to hear comments that folks appreciate my wisdom, knowledge, and compassion.  Thankfully, by the grace of G-d, those traits can actually increase with age and spiritual maturity.  I pray they do.

The icing on the cake happened last night, however; in a conversation with Daddy, inquiring about a place I'd been about 15 years ago.  I remembered two generations working there then.  One was obviously nearing retirement age at that time or even perhaps past, and the daughter appeared to be a late boomer with teen agers if I remember correctly.  As he and I spoke, he said they were still at the same location, but their daughter was now running the place.  I had no idea if that referenced the generation that had gone to school about the time I did, or the next one.  Knowing my kids are 40ish, I thought maybe a granddaughter of the founders might now be at the helm.  I asked if the one whom I'd seen all those years ago that was about my age was now running the business, to which he mentioned her name and said, "I don't think she's as old as you are."

My grey hair and great grandchild certainly date me.  My abilities, interests, and entertainment ignorance also are huge age indicators, but now, my own father has called me old.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Windblown Hair and a Broken Nail

It's been a wild week winding down this year's growing season and getting the last few things in place for winter.  There is timber all over the place beckoning me to cut it up and get it close to the house, but some is cut and just ready to be moved.  The goats are all pretty content and definitely enjoying the winter supply of hay, even though the pasture is still green!  As I prepare for the winter and shemitah, it's dawned on me, Abba seems to have a different image of what it is to be a princess, than our society indicates.

As it turns out, a peculiar princess ends up with some wild hair days and broken nails . . . at least this one does.  This one also had the opportunity to be on the receiving end of some investigative reporting . . . delivered right to the place!  HalleluYah.  That report is covered in People of the Preservation and Updates.  I've realized in this past week, even in so much preparation, just how unprepared I truly am.  I'm still trying, on occasion to be the picture of femininity in our society, or even our Biblical history . . .  Realistically, there are days, I know am a far sight from what I envision to be an Esther and and the Proverbs 31 woman.  Some days, I'm sure I look much more like one of those old k'vetches [complainers] in the wilderness about 35 years after the Exodus.

As I smoothed the jagged edges of broken nails and filed down the last couple of long ones to even them out, I thought to myself how truly blessed I am.  You know, even if I was still in town doing all the "community stuff" I'd still have wild grey hair, my own sense of fashion, and be 56 years old.  I wouldn't be the image of my idea of a princess there, either.  I've since asked Abba to help me always look beyond the physical appearance.  Nobody should be judged so superficially!

As long as I've brushed my hair, who cares if the wind rearranges it?  I don't actually enjoy maintaining fingernails of any length and I never polish, so long ones would be impractical.  I do miss polished toenails though!  I can't have polished toenails and free range chickens.  My sweet little chickens just cannot resist pecking bright colors!  So, all things considered, it's still a small price to pay.  Truth be told, it's rather invigorating to be outdoors with the wind blowing through my long silver locks.  It feels like a freedom, I've never known.  To be able to look out any window and see the beauty of creation is a breathtaking blessing, one for which I give thanks, daily.  I'm grateful to have the health and stamina to do what I do!   To be surrounded by the beauty of our Creator and to be blessed with health to enjoy is it my definition of being a beautiful princess . . . even with windblown hair and few broken nails.