Feeling Young

I haven't discovered the fountain of youth, but I have discovered a way to feel young!  In my younger days, it seemed I was usually among the youngest in my circle of influence.  I was a young mother, and young grandma, but as life has continued to move along, there are two generations of mothers now younger than myself!  Although I am believing the Psalm that speaks of my youth being renewed, my chronological age is certainly not going backward, and seems to be gaining momentum.

Actually, I am thrilled to be the age I am and finally comfortable in my own skin.  I don't have a crowd surrounding me in agreement, but that's okay, I'm not seeking popularity or human approval.  Although my skin feels alright, actually with my natural products, I think it feels better than alright, I am aware that I'm aging.  Sometimes as I walk around the homestead, I talk to myself, reminding myself that if Messiah tarries, I still want to be doing this twenty-five years from now.  In that same breath, however; I also tell myself, this place needs some young blood.

In the last few weeks, more than one person, right around 50 made a comment indicating they saw 57 as considerably older . . .  Whether it's 50 or 57, we're in our 50s!  The "zero" years have never bothered me, but a friend told me, they'd never bothered her either, until 60.  YHWH willing, I have big plans for 60 and I don't plan on it including any misery about my age.  Sixty is the new age marker for old or young.  It used to be forty.  Folks were a young forty or an old forty.

Since it seems to take so long now to even get started in independent adulthood, forty just doesn't seem so old.  From the time I was 12, I looked forward to forty, and it was fabulous!  Forty and 41 were absolutely great, then at 47, I started homesteading.  The lull between 41 and 47 wasn't horrible, just aware that more was to come.  Fifty was good, but nothing like I expected, then more lull until I was 55.  To be honest, there were a few rough years between 47 and 55, but it as it turns out, I proved the following adage.

 The last two years have been better than I would have imagined.  Although I should probably now be able to bench-press a Buick, I don't carry extra baggage, just extra weight.  There was only one potentially negative aspect of turning 55.  In this country, for some insane reason, 55 is considered a senior citizen.  My hair has been grey for so long, I've probably been getting a senior discount without even knowing it.  Actually, now that I'm eligible for the senior discount, I can express my disdain in it.  Young families trying to raise children and put food on the table should not have to pay more than someone else.  It's just not right.  Although there is much talk of "fixed incomes" the reality in observation is seniors and teen-agers have the most expendable cash flow.  Even though many American seniors are living comfortably, most grocery stores offer a senior discount day.

Most folks between 55 and 65 are still in the work force, so the daytime hours of senior discount day, primarily consist of those over 65.  Being self employed, I've now discovered a double portion blessing in senior discount day!  First, the money I save, I can actually donate to a worthy cause and second, as I look around at my fellow shoppers that day, I feel young!  As a matter of fact, early afternoon in the grocery store on senior discount day is about the only place I'm still one of the youngest.

The Sense to Come in Out of the Rain

My parents always said, I had "book smarts" but lacked the sense to come in out of the rain.  They were half right.  I'm not so sure I have "book smarts," but I definitely don't see any reason to come in out of the rain.  I'm one of those people when it's raining and everyone is running through the parking lot to get from their car to the store or vice versa, I just walk, business as usual.  I won't melt and I will dry.  I truly love the rain.  I've written before about how much I enjoy doing spring and autumn chores in the rain.  Now, I don't go overboard and stand out in freezing rain in January, but the falling rain really does cause me to feel refreshed.

The times I've enjoyed a rain water rinse on my long silver locks are too numerous to even recount by now.  Storms can be frightening, I realize, but several places through Scripture we are assured that rain is a sign of blessing.

Due to my compromise and desire to ignore the obvious red flags, I felt somewhat personally responsible for the drought in 2012 in the Ozarks.  So many mornings, I awoke to see the parched ground, the newly planted fruit trees being devoured by grasshoppers, and I thought of Jonah.  His running from the call, caught several people in his storm . . .  That summer, I nearly gave up the gift of discernment to keep tight, my rose colored glasses.  Interestingly, once I had stood and faced the horrific accusations and let go of the wishful thinking, it was no time at all that the rain began to fall on the thirsty ground.  By the next spring the water table was back to normal, but it took another year for the pastures to be restored, and . . . I had to replant my fruit trees.

We are told in the last days, rain will be withheld from heaven as the evil increases.  I've been given a taste of that, and I can tell you, no rain in it's season is very disheartening.  I've been in a flood, and yes that also was frightening, but at that time I wasn't caring for animals and I wasn't following Messiah.  It could be I simply didn't have the sense to see it for what it was, but I don't think so.

This is my take on the difference.  A flood calls for everyone to get to higher ground where they are safe, then for the most part, it is the work of man that can be destroyed, such as levies, buildings, automobiles.  In a drought, all of creation is at risk.  Plants, animals, and humans cannot live without water.  I shudder as I read about wells going dry, and water being rationed, still in parts of the southwest . . . Scripture bears the promise that the world will never endure a total flood again.  Warning of drought is much more ominous and continual, even through the Revelation.

Often, when I am in town, I will hear folks speaking disparagingly of rain coming.  Nearly always, I pipe right up with the need for rain.  "Places with constant sunshine are called deserts."  Everyone doesn't have to share my enthusiasm for dancing in the rain, or at least walking in it, but our society has a cliche that really has given us a bad rap.  "Not having the sense to come in out of the rain" has been one of the greatest joys and times of praise in my life!  According to Deuteronomy rainfall is in direct correlation with obedience, and a few verses farther state that drought is a direct result of disobedience.

And it shall come to pass, if ye shall hearken diligently unto my commandments which I command you this day, to love YHWH your G-d, and to serve Him with all your heart and with all your soul,  That I will give you the rain of your land in His due season, the first rain and the latter rain, that thou mayest gather in thy corn, and thy wine, and thine oil.  Deuteronomy 11:13-14

From Tomboy to Matriarch

All these attempts to teach children gender confusion is really bothering me.  Children go through natural phases of "not liking" the opposite sex, as well as enjoying the same interests as the opposite sex, but that really isn't a reflection of their sexuality.  Children are being sexualized at a very young age now, and that is, in my book, abuse.  Our children are being robbed of the innocence of childhood.  I truly shudder to think who and how I would be pressured, if I were a child in this day and age.  I was sexually clueless for years.  That may have been due to my multiple personality issue, but the point is, children today are inundated with sexuality from a very early age.

Although my mom was always on me about being more ladylike, and I never wanted to be like my mom, I never wanted to be a boy!  I was a tomboy, loved the outdoors, and followed Daddy everywhere I could, I still never wanted to be a boy.  I had two male cousins, one a year older and one a year younger and although I never gave any serious thought to our difference, I did realize peeing was much more convenient for boys.  They didn't have to take off their shoes to go in the house, and possibly be detained by a parent who wanted them to stay in for awhile . . . Other than that observation, I was pretty happy being a tomboy and knowing I was a girl.

The one difficulty I've had about being female, is the fact that my mother voiced her disapproval, and my sister was the picture of femininity, and we don't get along either. I couldn't play the piano, but lessons were required.  I had to walk across the living room with a book on my head, so I didn't "lope."  Summertime sports beyond swimming or tennis was out of the question.  Absolutely no softball!  I've always enjoyed being a diverse female, but I felt that I just didn't measure up.  I never felt the need to look for female approval.  Now with a husband that doesn't find me desirable, still a very disappointed mother, and one daughter who clearly stated she wouldn't want to be like me, I truly enjoy being the woman I am.  This may sound strange, but I don't respect the opinion of the naysayers, so I'm not defined by their opinion, but what about the children now?  So many are looking for a place to belong.

I still love the outdoors and can handle my share of physical work.  I can't do what a man can, but I am not a man and don't want to be one.  I do love men though!  Interestingly, the majority of men I've known through my life have consistently made the comment, that they've never known a woman like me, but it's never been said negatively toward me or other women, just in a very matter of fact statement.  I'm still an odd woman.  Everyone wants to be loved.  I'd love to be in a loving relationship, and I realize it would take a unique man to love me, but a man, none the less.  As the agenda intensifies, it appears that these children are going to be programmed to believe if someone finds them different, or they don't feel like everyone else, there is a sexual or gender identity issue and that simply is not so.

As the agenda gains momentum there have been many comments about choosing to identify . . . We all know there are little girls growing up that don't feel loved by their mothers.  Will they seek that love, later in a same sex relationship?  Many little boys are growing up with no respectable male role model.  Since the gay agenda has now changed its stand about born that way, to choosing to identify, how many of these children will be recruited simply because the agenda targets them at a certain phase or preys on their insecurities?  To introduce sexuality at a very young age causes nothing but confusion.  This is not about allowing children to express themselves, this is invasive programming, indoctrination, and recruitment!  This is targeting children through natural phases of life, to draw them into an unnatural lifestyle.

If I hadn't been the tomboy I was as a child, I would not be the matriarch I am today!

 

Love Thy Neighbor

This week has been so enlightening.  Well actually, this is far from the first time I've been graced with unsolicited analysis on social media, but this is the first time I've actually found it entertaining.  The situation was so choreographed, I just couldn't take it seriously, but I stepped into the dance.  I don't usually appreciate being singled out in a thread comment, even for something good, but admonition and analysis, double score!  And by more than one participant!

Although you might not guess it from the amount of writing I do, I don't write lengthy comments on social media.  I've been called "Queen of the One Liners."  To make a point in the midst of a thread started by another, doesn't need to be a full dissertation.  Basically, when it comes to forums and social media, even the old yahoo groups, one agrees or disagrees.  Some of the old groups used to actually raise a discussion or two, but they didn't last long.  As for forums, it didn't take long to see where everyone stood on most issues and they began to fizzle out as well.  As for the latest in internet socializing, it's time to face facts, most of us on the computer aren't really all that sociable.  We're not anti-social, it's just obvious that our social calendars are not full.

Social media does seem to accommodate those looking for their fifteen minutes of fame.  Anybody can claim any authority they choose and run with it on social media . . . and although I've made some genuine friends, I also tend to draw wannabe leaders and amateur psychologists.  Now the wannabe leaders, have their initial humble and "hung up" schtick, with lots of rules in dealing with them.  See that's the key right there.  They claim to want no attention, yet want plenty of focus, and it has to be done properly.  A lot of "my wall" rules.  I do my best to even refrain from comment, but when I agree with something, just hit "like" because that seems important to that individual.

As a socially awkward individual, myself, I still stumble and struggle through "real time" interaction both on and off line.  Except when sharing information, I prefer to simply listen or read.  I think we can speak the truth on specific matters, and should; but the bottom line is, everyone doesn't have time to hear everyone's details.  That's not uncaring, that's just time management.  Of course, I'll share a praise report, or some goat and gardening insight.  I definitely sound warnings through this publication, and I've written some very personal information for those who struggle, but I believe everything including my words, should have purpose.  I simply do not feel the need to comment on everything, nor do I desire to know all the personal details of another person's life.  When someone feels the need to analyze that, I realize they are coming from their perspective.  

 The instruction to love our neighbor as we love ourself has been weighing heavily on me lately.  Being real seems to be defined now, by "airing dirty laundry."  I'm of a different opinion.  To air all "my dirty laundry" would be a facade and not who I am at all.  I love to laugh and I enjoy stimulating discussions, but I am horrible at small talk.  I'm a good listener when it comes to folks desiring counsel, but I no longer serve as a place to vent so they can stay in their mess.  If I truly love my neighbor, which applies to anyone interact with, both real time and internet, I must be honest.  In that honesty is the fact, I don't care to make comment on everything and most of the things I do say are not aimed at anyone specifically.  Also in that love of neighbor, I must realize, everyone does not share my perspective.  We don't have to agree on everything to be nice and love can be tough, but it doesn't have to be continuously confrontational or analytical.  Love thy neighbor as you love yourself seems to hold the standard of the Golden Rule.  Perhaps I've been missing something . . .

This just occurred to me.  Maybe all the confrontational folks and amateur psychologists would like others to reach out to them in the same manner.

Self-Control

Self-control seems to be pretty rare when it comes to the fruit of the Spirit.  There are so many ways we seem to be able to justify a lack of control by calling it "righteous anger" or "protecting others" or even "the truth hurts."  Sometimes any and all of those can be the case, but not nearly as frequently as we like to rationalize.  I've heard some very harsh things said, cruel actually, and the person just shrugs and says, "I was only being honest."  There are also many behaviors in our society that are "excused" by labels, as if that removes the personal responsibility.  Sadly, in many cases, we spiritualize "the flesh" and that is far from producing the fruit of the Spirit.

The area of self-control in which I struggle the most, is my tongue.  Between some personal situations, and of course social media, I've come to understand the power of silence, but it takes a great deal of self-control at the time.  Actually, the self-control I've been gaining through the Spirit, is the absence for the need to be understood, accepted, or have the last word.  The only thing about my entire life and being that needs to be understood by another, is the amazing awesome message of the Good News.  YHWH says His Word is final.  When that sank in, I realized, trying to have the last word is playing G-d . . .

I once wrote a poem about the fruit of the Spirit, and the last verse went something like this . . .

Dear Father, it seemed as if there's been no progress,
When I lipped off the other day.
I know it appeared, I still lack self-control,
But You know, I had so much more to say!

Producing the fruit of the Spirit cannot be done by mental fortitude or "turning over a new leaf," but by surrender to YHWH.  I'm not sure I have the words, yet; to accurately convey what I mean, but I'm going to try.  I cannot make myself produce the fruit of the Spirit, none of us can.  I can, however; discipline myself to "stay out of the way" and not become defensive or offensive.  I can be disciplined by Torah [the school master] as Paul called it, to want to observe Abba's Instructions more than I want to defend myself or my own ideas . . . but it truly takes the mind of Messiah and the words of Torah written on my heart, which are both given by the Spirit of YHWH not produced in my own power.

In my case to control my tongue, I have to be very careful what thoughts I entertain.  That is up to me!  When I surrender my right to ruminate and discipline myself to take my own thoughts captive, the thoughts no longer hold me captive.  I have found the previously listed fruit of the Spirit have been instrumental in producing self-control.  They appear to be in an order . . . Abba does all things decently and in order.

We so often, at least I do, picture gentle rains and glorious sunshine for fruit production, but there's more.  My heart has to be "good soil" and like it or not, there is fertilizer involved.  It's so easy to remain calm and appearing to produce beautiful fruit, but when circumstances stink, the real production takes place, or not . . .

It's easy to love someone who loves me.  It's so easy to have joy when I'm out for morning chores with birds singing and animals surrounding me as I say the Shema.  With no television and no rush hour traffic, peace is nearly a given.  The first three in the list seem easier, in that we can find a "happy place," often alone or with our special folk, but then . . . in the list is longsuffering.  Some translations use the term, patience, but that's a rather flowery way to gloss over the true meaning.  Longsuffering, is much more accurate.  I can tell you, the longer you kick against that lesson the longer the suffering situation will remain.  It seems in my life, longsuffering and self-control are quite intertwined.

There are two things I say for victory, when the temptation to lose self-control of the tongue is presented.  First and foremost is the prayer of Psalm 141:3.  I ask YHWH to "put a guard over my mouth."  The second, I try to say to myself, but a couple of times, it's actually been stated aloud in the circumstances.  "I do not want what is bouncing through my head to come flying out my mouth."

The Spirit of the Living Creator has really brought me to the point I do desire His Will over mine, even in circumstances I find adverse.  It hasn't happened all at once, and it still doesn't happen 100% of the time, but it truly has become my heart's desire.

An Interesting Dream

Most of my dreams seem fairly insignificant.  I do have a few that I recognize to be of spiritual significance, but I really don't have all that many memorable dreams.  I do, however; dream in color.  Having now used three sentences to say nothing, let's get to the point.

I dreamed I was speaking to a group of young women.  In the dream I was aware that all of these young ladies had some sort of inferiority complex in regard to their appearance and/or shape.  The group, as I remember, was basically average.  No one was dramatically beautiful or intensely homely.  The young women were not what I would call obese, but all indicated they were not pleased with their weight or their appearance.  They were all in search of "something" that would make them more attractive, which was to be the topic of my presentation.

As I spoke, I produced past photos of myself through the years.  This would be very out of character for me, in that I consistently hated to have my picture taken, always feeling fat and ugly.  With each photo, I gave my age and basic life circumstances at the time.  The presentation was somewhat interactive, so the girls made comments and asked questions throughout.  With each explanation on that trip down memory lane, a different girl would raise her hand to offer some sort of acknowledgement or insight.  It was amazing how many of the girls just couldn't understand why I had such low self esteem in those photos.  I responded with the same question and comment to them.

In the dream I seemed so natural and relaxed, which in and of itself is odd . . . One photo, stood out amongst all the others.  It was a wedding photo in which I was so thin, my complexion was ashen.  They asked me how I felt about myself at that time, and I answered honestly.  It was the one time and last person who made me feel desirable, but . . . I was really sacrificing my health to be that size and more importantly, by then I realized, I was counting on him to make me feel like a woman.  Ultimately, when the new wore off and it was time to just be a couple, I blew it.  He loved me, or at least tried to love me, for who I truly was.  My youth and weight made no difference to him, but my inferiority complex was so deep, I couldn't grasp that.   As I shared that with the girls, they fell contemplatively silent.  I could see their wheels turning.

In sharing the last wedding photo, I shared with the girls that I truly thought I "had it together" spiritually, emotionally, and was physically comfortable in my own skin, until . . . my honeymoon was a disaster and I found myself hanging on by a thread, spiritually.  I clung to Messiah.  Many times over, I found myself quoting the Psalm about the Rock that is higher than I.  Something had to change, and I was obligated to my circumstances.  It would take me a full 10 years to realize my self-image was not based upon how someone else, that man, looked at me.  In 2012, I looked in the mirror, finally happy with the reflection looking back.

As I moved out from behind the podium, I stood there 57 and full figured, and simply stated.  "I like myself the way Abba created me to be.  Being content is beautiful!"

Getting My Hum On

I've sort of wandered away from music and that's not been good, but it's been so hard . . .  I've let the enemy steal from me.  Musical talent is certainly not my long suit, but I do or I should say did have a song in my heart and was usually humming.  Years ago, I prayed to be able to play the piano in a little country church.  Adonai answered that prayer, and that's where I met my last husband . . . Music just hasn't been the same since.

Mr. B has perfect pitch.  So perfect, apparently, he can't be bothered with actually serving in some sort of musical ministry capacity.  He is, however; perfectly aware if I hit the wrong note or don't include enough notes.  So music waned severely for me.  I did have a small sound and broadcasting system, and several CDs, that played continuously, but he tweaked it, so it doesn't work anymore.  After taking forced piano lessons and school choir growing up, it hasn't taken much criticism for me to just avoid the keyboard all together, and you know what.  That's not anybody's fault but mine.

Upon giving up keyboard and CD sing alongs, I began humming.  I used to go into the Tabernacle alone and play and sing, but I don't do that anymore, and I should.  I can't blame others for what I'm simply choosing to not do.  Even though I'm not terribly talented, I truly miss music, but I just can't bring myself to not worry about who is listening.  My self-consciousness is quite deeply rooted.  I've told myself that being self-conscious is still a focus on self, but I haven't made much headway.

Zephaniah 3:17 spoke to me some time back as I saw that Abba sings over me.  I truly do want to bring pleasure to Him, and singing seems to be significant.  It's time that my joy in YHWH overflows into joyful noise!  Recently, however; I've noticed myself humming, once again.  He doesn't require perfect pitch or four part harmony, just a joyful noise.  That I can do!