Mr. B doesn't like to talk to me. Oh, he'll tell me old stories, like when he was growing up, and all about "the can plant" and a few Snorkel memories, but that's all! We don't discuss and sadly we don't share happy memories. The good times I have, don't involve him, per his choice and there's no indication he's enjoyed himself since the turn of this century. I'll be honest here, I spent some time blaming him, and probably even more time doubting that I'd heard G-d at all regarding this marriage, but then it dawned on me. Every moment that I spend thinking about the last 13 years . . . sigh; and every complaint I state about the last 13, and every doubt I ponder, is time I can't get back.
I can't change what happened 13 years ago, but I can sure stop dwelling on the doubt and the disappointment. So many promises were broken and so many statements made that there simply is no desire to reconcile our situation or relationship, but we can choose to not invest time poorly. I can't make someone love me or share my joy in Adonai, but no one can take my joy. I can choose, however; to lose my joy . . . or not. At the end of the day, week, month, or year, all I can do is determine if I did what I should have done, regardless of what was returned. Truth be told, I really like the space this relationship affords me. As I've shut up and stopped trying to analyze it, I've discovered I'm actually not interested in changing the way things are between us. This is as close to having my cake and eating it too, as anyone could have!
The only power over choice I have is power over the choices I make. Choice is a sore spot for me because before I married Mr. B, he was talking about making a decision of some kind, and I piped up encouragingly and proclaimed, "I'm all about choice!" In the last few days I have come to realize, even though there are some serious no-choices in my life, I can still choose what I think about and where I invest my energy. So many wonderful opportunities await, if we don't choose to spend our energy unwisely. Interestingly, as I was writing this another situation arose that has brought the same insight.
I'm suddenly and sadly aware that my attempt to obey the fifth commandment has extracted much unproductive energy. Some things simply will not change and of course the past cannot be undone or redone. I'm getting a lot of practice now at making sure what bounces through my head doesn't come flying out my mouth. I already have to repent for the thoughts I entertain, I don't want to have to repent for words that should remain unspoken!
It really is simple when I break it down incrementally. The energy spent to engage in an unproductive conversation is spent, never to be regained. Unproductive conversations usually have one of two outcomes. Thoughts that are unsaid can mulled over, and replayed, which is more wasted energy ruminating; or something regrettable is said, and that is sin. Not only wasted energy on a dead-end conversation, but sin, which is never energy well spent. Then add the time it takes to seek forgiveness of Abba and the additional energy it takes to apologize to the person.
I am still all about choice and I am choosing to spend less energy on things that are counterproductive and that usually involves words, but then Scripture already says that . . . repeatedly. None of us chose our parents and whether we are married or single, in good relationships or bad, we can choose how we react and how we spend our energy.
In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin: but he that refraineth his lips
is wise. a Proverb of Holy Scripture
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Replace Rather Than Repair
As life is moving forward, and the calamity of last week's Sabbath has abated, rather than repair the deck, it will be replaced. The flooring itself may have had a couple more good years in it, but the gate is a complete goner and the railings are wobbly. Mr. B and I had already discussed calling a guy we knew for an estimate, but somehow that just never came to fruition. The goats provided the motivation to get serious about replacing the deck, but for some reason I just couldn't get around to calling the guy.
I designed the first deck and it was a homemade project. It held up well through a move and being resized for the addition, but enough is enough. The idea of more pedestrian traffic here in the Land of Goshen brought the realization, there is just no need to repair a deck that I already know will need to be replaced in two years. I'm getting practical like that . . .
I've become intensely aware of Abba directing my steps to blessings, through what first appears to be an inconvenience or problem. As we were coming home from town last week, we noticed someone building a deck. Since there was a large equipment truck, we assumed the builder was a contractor and turned around to talk to him. Sure enough, he was a contractor, gave us his card and said he'd be glad to give us a bid. We called him that evening and the other guy that I'd been stalling about calling and both said they'd be here Monday to size up the project.
Both men called Monday for directions to the place, but only one showed up that day. He looked it over, said he'd get back to us and by that evening we had a bid, and not a bad price at all! Wednesday was a town day, and as we were coming home, the guy that was a no show, Monday, was coming down the lane. He'd finally gotten around to dropping in to bid the job. He did that without anyone being home. It then dawned on me, from our previous dealings, why I'd not been too anxious to call him. When he called with his bid, it was nearly double the price of the first bid! I simply told him we'd talk it over.
The crew has been contracted to rebuild! Then I did the ultimate woman thing on them. They came to get started and I asked about making it larger . . . As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized for the first time in my life, I sounded like my mother. My entire life, when she sees someone working, my Daddy or myself, she invariably steps in to tweak. By nature, I'm not a tweaker, but the idea just hit me that this deck could be larger than first estimated. The men lit up and said, "No problem! Now's the time!" They got out the tape measures and went from there. I knew the best plan would be an additional 8 feet as that would eliminate sawing every board and minimize waste. They went to their truck to confer and refigure, came out and presented the increased cost. It was wonderful! Done deal!
As they were leaving, ready to start first thing Monday morning, I remembered the very nice drawing he'd already done for the original bid. I thought of my mother and her ever changing tweaking, so I asked them if there was something we needed to sign. They said they'd do right by me, to which I responded, I know that, I thought you might like my signature to ensure there are no more changes . . . They smiled and said, "See you tomorrow."
YHWH willing the former amateur 8' X 12' design will be replaced with a brand new professional 10' X 28' deck.
I designed the first deck and it was a homemade project. It held up well through a move and being resized for the addition, but enough is enough. The idea of more pedestrian traffic here in the Land of Goshen brought the realization, there is just no need to repair a deck that I already know will need to be replaced in two years. I'm getting practical like that . . .
I've become intensely aware of Abba directing my steps to blessings, through what first appears to be an inconvenience or problem. As we were coming home from town last week, we noticed someone building a deck. Since there was a large equipment truck, we assumed the builder was a contractor and turned around to talk to him. Sure enough, he was a contractor, gave us his card and said he'd be glad to give us a bid. We called him that evening and the other guy that I'd been stalling about calling and both said they'd be here Monday to size up the project.
Both men called Monday for directions to the place, but only one showed up that day. He looked it over, said he'd get back to us and by that evening we had a bid, and not a bad price at all! Wednesday was a town day, and as we were coming home, the guy that was a no show, Monday, was coming down the lane. He'd finally gotten around to dropping in to bid the job. He did that without anyone being home. It then dawned on me, from our previous dealings, why I'd not been too anxious to call him. When he called with his bid, it was nearly double the price of the first bid! I simply told him we'd talk it over.
The crew has been contracted to rebuild! Then I did the ultimate woman thing on them. They came to get started and I asked about making it larger . . . As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized for the first time in my life, I sounded like my mother. My entire life, when she sees someone working, my Daddy or myself, she invariably steps in to tweak. By nature, I'm not a tweaker, but the idea just hit me that this deck could be larger than first estimated. The men lit up and said, "No problem! Now's the time!" They got out the tape measures and went from there. I knew the best plan would be an additional 8 feet as that would eliminate sawing every board and minimize waste. They went to their truck to confer and refigure, came out and presented the increased cost. It was wonderful! Done deal!
As they were leaving, ready to start first thing Monday morning, I remembered the very nice drawing he'd already done for the original bid. I thought of my mother and her ever changing tweaking, so I asked them if there was something we needed to sign. They said they'd do right by me, to which I responded, I know that, I thought you might like my signature to ensure there are no more changes . . . They smiled and said, "See you tomorrow."
YHWH willing the former amateur 8' X 12' design will be replaced with a brand new professional 10' X 28' deck.
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Whining
I've been whining for some time now to Abba, about the fact Mr. B doesn't treat me like a woman. I've taken it quite personally and very hard. I've never been treated this way before. It's very foreign and nothing I would choose. Sadly, after 13 years, it's not so foreign anymore, and my memories of being treated like a woman are fading into the distant past. Don't worry, I'm not confused. I know I'm a woman that was gifted with a great many capabilities and that's okay. I have no desire to be in competition with anyone, although between you, me, and the fence post, I wouldn't mind being treated as the "weaker vessel" once in awhile. That, however; is not reflective of my spiritual standing.
After the calamity on Sabbath, I realized, I really did just want a pair of big strong arms around me telling me everything would be okay. It wasn't a matter of lust, nor did I even include a body or face with those big strong arms, just took a few moments to acknowledge to myself I may be capable, but I'm not invincible. I could even get emotional, once in awhile, if there was a safe place to do so . . . and there is. My office in the early morning and outdoors. I guess I could lock myself in the bathroom, but that's just not my style. Yesterday morning, I just wanted someone to acknowledge my pain and allow me to dramatize my crisis. Remember Mary Tyler Moore as Laura Petrie on the Dick Van Dyke show when she would just fall apart saying "Ooooooooh Rrrrrrrrrrrrob!" Ah well, back to reality.
As I read and pondered, thinking back to my simple invitation to Mr. B all those years ago. I met him at his church when he announced he had just taken a job that had him working week-end days, so he wouldn't be attending much for awhile. I was facilitating a Friday evening Torah study and oneg, so I simply handed him a card, mentioned the Friday evening gathering and said, "Don't lose fellowship." Now it's been a number of years, that I observe Sabbath alone. I thought of that, actually I think of it often. What would I be doing on Shabbat, if I hadn't handed him that card? Would I be enjoying fellowship? Would my life have turned out differently?
It was then that I simply determined it was time to put away all the questions and realize I am where I am for such a time as this. Another person's interest or lack thereof is irrelevant. I still get treated not only like a woman, but like a lady . . . they just aren't my husband and now, that's okay. As a matter of fact, it's just fine.
After the calamity on Sabbath, I realized, I really did just want a pair of big strong arms around me telling me everything would be okay. It wasn't a matter of lust, nor did I even include a body or face with those big strong arms, just took a few moments to acknowledge to myself I may be capable, but I'm not invincible. I could even get emotional, once in awhile, if there was a safe place to do so . . . and there is. My office in the early morning and outdoors. I guess I could lock myself in the bathroom, but that's just not my style. Yesterday morning, I just wanted someone to acknowledge my pain and allow me to dramatize my crisis. Remember Mary Tyler Moore as Laura Petrie on the Dick Van Dyke show when she would just fall apart saying "Ooooooooh Rrrrrrrrrrrrob!" Ah well, back to reality.
As I read and pondered, thinking back to my simple invitation to Mr. B all those years ago. I met him at his church when he announced he had just taken a job that had him working week-end days, so he wouldn't be attending much for awhile. I was facilitating a Friday evening Torah study and oneg, so I simply handed him a card, mentioned the Friday evening gathering and said, "Don't lose fellowship." Now it's been a number of years, that I observe Sabbath alone. I thought of that, actually I think of it often. What would I be doing on Shabbat, if I hadn't handed him that card? Would I be enjoying fellowship? Would my life have turned out differently?
It was then that I simply determined it was time to put away all the questions and realize I am where I am for such a time as this. Another person's interest or lack thereof is irrelevant. I still get treated not only like a woman, but like a lady . . . they just aren't my husband and now, that's okay. As a matter of fact, it's just fine.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Vanity?
I tend to think vanity is used to address a problem in women, while pride is more masculine, although both genders can engage in vanity and pride; and both are bad. As of late, I've heard everything from a woman shaving her legs to bridgework and false teeth; labeled as vanity. I'm old enough to remember when women's slacks were considered immodest and skirts had to be at the knee, not to mention the make-up issue. Now there are the head coverings, swimwear debates, and proper blousing discussions. Sometimes all this modesty seems to be rather vain. Some of the modesty these days is beginning to look a bit too Islamic for me.
Invariably the modesty discussions on social media seem to really draw attention to the woman's body, face, and hair style. I've gotten to the point, perhaps it's age, perhaps it's my track record, I'd just as soon answer all the questions posed, and volunteer all the potential subjects of blackmail that could occur. Since Mr. B has no qualms about putting me on the spot, and I have one daughter who has a history of publicizing confidentiality, I figure whatever they know could appear on social media at any time.
I cover my head, but my hair hangs long . . . except when I'm gardening and cooking, for practical reasons. My hair is long past my waist. It gets hot and in the way in the garden, and nobody wants a four foot strand of hair in their dinner. Scripture doesn't speak specifically as to the definition of modesty, but does mention a woman's long hair is her glory and to pray or prophesy publicly, her head should be covered. Some scholars believe that to mean her hair is her covering . . . Since I'm unsure, I don't cut my hair, and when I'm in public, my head is covered. I've heard several other viewpoints and I don't argue them, nor do I feel the need to agree.
As for attire, I do wear a skirt and top with an overblouse. I've read discussions on how high the top should be, the concern about cleavage, etc. when a woman leans over. One discussion even addressed concern when gardening, that a woman could cause a man to lust by the way she held herself through the weeding or harvesting. I don't carry it to that degree. When I get dressed, no cleavage is showing at my neckline . . . as the day wears on, I just hope nothing sags beneath the hemline of my top. Although I don't publicly announce it, I'm quite buxom and since my kids know my bra size, I don't consider it to be a secret. Nor do I consider honesty to be immodest. If somebody wants to know something, just ask. I don't mind telling the truth, nor do I mind telling someone straight out, "it's none of your business."
I am in a quandary when it comes to swimwear. I really enjoy swimming, but my last few years as a lifeguard in my early 40s did make me feel a bit self-conscious in the uniform suit. I've since gone with a sort of swim dress type suit, but I certainly wouldn't even consider trying to swim in the presence of the Torah modesty crowd. Does that make me a hypocrite? Maybe . . . What I have discovered in reading and observing these modesty discussions, is at least for me, I think my modesty is based more upon self-consciousness than morality. I simply don't see myself as evoking any lustful feelings in any man.
Many of the dresses, skirts, and nearly all of the headcoverings really do seem to be making a fashion statement, and trendy fashion can be quite a display of vanity. It's as if modesty is a fashion trend, rather than a matter of the heart. I don't see myself getting into the covering competition or modesty pageant. I've always considered a modest woman to be one who is dressed appropriately, gracious in her demeanor, and simply unfocused on herself.
Invariably the modesty discussions on social media seem to really draw attention to the woman's body, face, and hair style. I've gotten to the point, perhaps it's age, perhaps it's my track record, I'd just as soon answer all the questions posed, and volunteer all the potential subjects of blackmail that could occur. Since Mr. B has no qualms about putting me on the spot, and I have one daughter who has a history of publicizing confidentiality, I figure whatever they know could appear on social media at any time.
I cover my head, but my hair hangs long . . . except when I'm gardening and cooking, for practical reasons. My hair is long past my waist. It gets hot and in the way in the garden, and nobody wants a four foot strand of hair in their dinner. Scripture doesn't speak specifically as to the definition of modesty, but does mention a woman's long hair is her glory and to pray or prophesy publicly, her head should be covered. Some scholars believe that to mean her hair is her covering . . . Since I'm unsure, I don't cut my hair, and when I'm in public, my head is covered. I've heard several other viewpoints and I don't argue them, nor do I feel the need to agree.
As for attire, I do wear a skirt and top with an overblouse. I've read discussions on how high the top should be, the concern about cleavage, etc. when a woman leans over. One discussion even addressed concern when gardening, that a woman could cause a man to lust by the way she held herself through the weeding or harvesting. I don't carry it to that degree. When I get dressed, no cleavage is showing at my neckline . . . as the day wears on, I just hope nothing sags beneath the hemline of my top. Although I don't publicly announce it, I'm quite buxom and since my kids know my bra size, I don't consider it to be a secret. Nor do I consider honesty to be immodest. If somebody wants to know something, just ask. I don't mind telling the truth, nor do I mind telling someone straight out, "it's none of your business."
I am in a quandary when it comes to swimwear. I really enjoy swimming, but my last few years as a lifeguard in my early 40s did make me feel a bit self-conscious in the uniform suit. I've since gone with a sort of swim dress type suit, but I certainly wouldn't even consider trying to swim in the presence of the Torah modesty crowd. Does that make me a hypocrite? Maybe . . . What I have discovered in reading and observing these modesty discussions, is at least for me, I think my modesty is based more upon self-consciousness than morality. I simply don't see myself as evoking any lustful feelings in any man.
Many of the dresses, skirts, and nearly all of the headcoverings really do seem to be making a fashion statement, and trendy fashion can be quite a display of vanity. It's as if modesty is a fashion trend, rather than a matter of the heart. I don't see myself getting into the covering competition or modesty pageant. I've always considered a modest woman to be one who is dressed appropriately, gracious in her demeanor, and simply unfocused on herself.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
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.
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.
Sunday, May 17, 2015
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
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
Monday, May 4, 2015
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!
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!
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