Thinking on Grace

This morning found me on the sofa, watching the daybreak. My spirits sagged over a certain something that I have no control over (you know how that goes, I’m sure). I had not slept all night. Despite spending time in prayer and study, the heaviness in my heart lingered.

I knew the day held responsibilities that needed my attention, so I made one final turn into the office to turn out lights and that’s when I opened up my trusty devotional book, Mrs. Charles E. Cowman’s Streams In The Desert 1, a book that has been my constant companion since 1999 when my sister gave it to me for Christmas. For 13 years, I’ve read it from cover to cover, but still find it fresh every year.

I opened it to Sunday’s passage and read this poem by Annie Johnson Flint:

His grace is great enough to meet the great things—

The crashing waves that overwhelm the soul,

The roaring winds that leave us stunned and breathless,

The sudden storms beyond our life’s control.

His grace is great enough to meet the small things—

The little pin-prick troubles that annoy,

The insect worries, buzzing and persistent,

The squeaking wheels that grate upon our joy.

As the sounds of morning filled up the streets outside, I laid down with a peaceful mind. His grace is sufficient. It always has been and always will be.

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Happily linking up to a lovely new blog party (Think on these things), hosted by one of my favorite bloggers, Lorraine. If you looked up the definition of “beautiful,” you’d find Lorraine’s picture there. And even though we’ve never met in person, I know she is as beautiful inside as outside. If you have time, click on over and say hey.

Books, how I love thee ... let me count the ways

My love of books goes back as far as I can remember. When I was a mere toddler, I memorized the words of my books (or so says my mother). When I was a school girl, I lived for our weekly trek to the city library. And when I sketched out my first set of plans for my dream house (at the ripe age of 18), the first room I labeled was the "library."

I'm still waiting on that library, but I have faith that one day, Lord willing, I will have a library in my home. It won't be big, but it will be perfect for me, and I've already laid out the where and how of it all. Now, if only I could talk The Man into letting me embark on this project. My goal is by year's end. Fingers crossed. Time will tell.

But back to books ... here's my latest musings on the matter of books, and I'd really be interested in hearing your thoughts on this subject.

Until next time, sweet friends, press on.

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Joining Natasha for Serenity Saturday.

Remembering the Miracle of February 21, 1997

It's been 15 years since The Man had a very close brush with death. The date was February 21, 1997, and I will forever be grateful to God for showing us favor on that cold Houston morning.

I blogged about the incident in 2010, and felt like sharing the link again today. The story is a bit long, but, if you've not read it before, you can find it (including photos) by clicking here.

Until next time, sweet friends, press on.

Comments have been turned off here, but I welcome your comments on the original post.

Considering Loss and Mercy and Faith

Saturday morning dawned gray and wet, a perfect day for staying in. The Man was on one couch, I on the other, both enjoying reading in the quiet of the room.

The book I had chosen deals with losses of the heart. I’ve read it before—years back when my twin sister went through an unwanted divorce—and found it to be the perfect companion during those weeks and months of anguish. After reading it, I gave it to my sister, and just recently ordered myself another copy.

I wanted to read the book again, because I find books take on different faces, depending on your perspective at the time. Not only that, there's always the chance of  discovering a rich nugget or two that I might have missed the first time around.

As I read about how God’s mercy sustains us through our deep losses, I was reminded that mercy is not a right—it is a gift, an unmerited gift. And even though God doesn’t always answer our prayers in the way we had hoped, He does grant us mercy along the way.

Some days may feel like there is no mercy, no hope, no love, but I know, from personal experience, that grief can consume you, and when  its waves crash over you, it’s impossible to see anything but your grief. Oftentimes, it’s years later that we look back and actually see the mercies of God, and how they were manifested in our lives during the losses we experienced. That doesn’t mean that every story has a happy ending, but it does mean that we were, and are, the recipients of God's mercy.

Dear friend, are you facing a great loss in your life? Do you wonder how you will shuffle through one more day?

I’ve been there a few times myself. And I can assure you that the place of safety is, and always will be, resting in the merciful arms of God. Even when you don’t feel like He is there, He is there, holding you up. Even when people die and loved ones abandon you, when friends turn their backs, and all you can do is cry, it's good to know that God understands the language of tears perfectly.

Life on this earth was never meant to be without pain, and it can hurt in the deepest places. Sometimes (all the time, really), you have to walk by faith, not seeing, but believing that this too shall pass, that the clouds will lift, that there will be another sun-drenched day ahead, a day when you'll look back and see just how far you've come.

***

For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear him (Psalm 103:11).

Repurposing : Sewing-cabinet-turned-end-table

When I repainted my family room last year (never did post pics on that; my bad), and purchased new sofas (after 23 years; I’m nothing if not content), I wanted to change out my tables with something more vintage (although the ones I had were 23 years old, as well, so I guess they would fit into the vintage category nicely).

Anyway, moving on … I found one end-table right away, at a wonderful used furniture store (never posted pics; my bad). I loved it, but I needed another one.

And I found it recently, after a trip to my favorite antique mall. It isn’t really an end-table, but it works for me.

What we have here is a vintage sewing cabinet, British made. Because of where it sits, I choose to use it sideways, if that makes sense.

It has a sweet little drawer that I probably won’t use much, but sweet nonetheless, don’t you think?

And the cabinet opens up and has lovely storage for something or other.



The Man wasn’t sure why I would buy something that opened up, if I planned to put stuff on top of it (he’s smart like that).

Oh well … I still like the cabinet.

And I still think it makes a cute vintage end-table.

I continue to look for the “perfect” coffee-table. Initially, I wanted a trunk of some sort, but the more I think about it, the more I’m not sure if the height would be pleasing to me. I’m used to propping my feet up on the one we have, and it's much lower than a trunk would be. Decisions, decision.

Any thoughts and ideas always welcomed here at the retirement home.

Until next time, sweet friends, press on.

***

Joining the following parties:

My Repurposed Life

  

   

Matters of the Heart

Not everyone is a fan of Valentine’s Day. Some who speak out against it feel that love should be shown and felt every day of the year (why single out a particular day?). I understand their sentiment, and I agree love should be shown daily, but I’m also of the opinion, why not single out a particular day to celebrate love? There are far worse things to celebrate.

Having said that, there are also those who find Valentine's Day difficult because a) they've been deeply hurt in past relationships, b) they've never been in love, c) they've never felt loved by anyone, or d) they aren't even sure what love is. I am sympathetic to such reasoning, and I've certainly been in that first category. As for that last one, apparently there are quite a few who share the same feelings. In early 1985, the song at the top of U.S. and UK charts was a haunting ballad entitled, "I Want To Know What Love Is," by Foreigner. It struck a chord and remains a popular song, 27 years later.

So, what is love?

I'm afraid the answer to that is complex, at best, but if I had one wish for every person it would be that he or she would discover what it means to love, at least once, with a love bold enough to lay it all on the line, daring enough to risk rejection, fiery enough to break down walls and defenses, brave enough to leave yourself open and vulnerable, and honest enough to say what you feel without wavering.

But be prepared. Loving in such a way is fraught with risks. Sometimes it may seem as if your chest has been cut open and your heart ripped out. It can lodge a pain in the pit of your stomach, with no warning or explanation. It can leave you crying in the dark, for reasons you don’t fully understand. What’s the old song? “Love hurts, love scars, love wounds, and mars any heart not tough or strong enough to take a lot of pain.” Loving deeply is only for strong hearts. The more you love, the greater the potential to be hurt. But what have you gained if you haven’t loved at least one other human being in this way? I can’t imagine never knowing the kind of love that can wring you out and leave you weak, that can make minutes on a clock seem like an eternity.

Not everyone chooses to love without reservations. They shield their hearts, and put up barricades. Anything to keep from getting burned by the flames of love. They spend their entire lives in superficial and surface relationships. 

What they may not realize is that unless they open themselves up fully to love—to the possibility of being heartbroken and torn asunder—they can neither love, nor be loved, completely. It just isn't possible. To paraphrase C. S. Lewis, guarded hearts will never be broken, because they will become “unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

Loving anyone will always be risky. It could go either way. Harry Nilsson verbalizes this so well when he sings the lyrics, "Maybe I'll win and maybe I'll lose. Maybe I'm in for crying the blues." He's right, you know. Matters of the heart are seldom simple, or without anguish.

Sometimes you lose in the game of love. I dare say we all have experienced a lost love at some point in our lives, when we thought we would die of heartbreak, but I think I understand what Lord Tennyson meant when he wrote, “'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Whether you win or lose, love's value cannot be diminished. And should you never love again, one day you can at least look back and say, “I loved someone completely … once upon a time.”

So, as you make your way into Valentine’s Day this week, and into the coming months, if you find love, or if love finds you, embrace it with your whole heart, for it may never come again.

***

To read our love story
(that spans three decades), click here.



Love is a power unto itself.

It cannot be bottled for study or manipulated for experimentation.

It simply washes over you and leaves you breathless.

~ Billy Coffey

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Thanks, Anita, for inviting me to link this post to the awesome new blog party.



Got Love? : 6 Ways to Add More Love to Your Life



This article first appeared in The Dallas Morning News,
by Dayle Allen Shockley.
All rights reserved.

In 1967, the Beatles declared, "All you need is love." That assertion may not be far from the truth.

"When we increase the love and intimacy in our lives, we also increase the health, joy and meaning in our lives," says Dr. Dean Ornish, founder and director of the nonprofit Preventive Medicine Research Institute in Sausalito, Calif.

His book, Love and Survival: The Scientific Basis for the Healing Power of Intimacy (Collins, $14), is a best-seller. His research has been published in the Journal of the American Medical Association and other medical journals. Dozens of other studies showcase the benefits of loving and being loved.

With Valentine’s Day upon us, what better time to add love to our lives? Here are six suggestions:

1. Add love to your daily routine. No need to wait for Valentine’s Day for getting lovey-dovey. Say sweet things to loved ones daily. Hugs and kisses benefit both giver and receiver. Take home a flower or a card when there's no special occasion.

2. Adopt a pet. Although pets saddle us with additional work and responsibility, benefits outweigh drawbacks. Nursing home residents who spent 30 minutes a week visiting with a dog experienced “significant decrease in loneliness,” according to a 2006 study published in Anthrozoos, by Dr. William Banks, professor of geriatrics.

3. Play with a child. The innocence of a child can melt the loneliest of hearts. If you’re feeling loveless, try entering the world of a child and watch how your perspective changes. Children laugh easily, forgive easily, and are usually delighted to hold your hand.

4. Rekindle friendships. In 2005, my niece persuaded me to try online blogging. I’ve always kept a personal journal, but I wasn’t keen on posting my thoughts in cyberspace. Before long, however, I’d reconnected with dozens of friends and made new acquaintances, as well. Blogging may sound impersonal, but take it from a skeptic: It’s not. We've been there for each other during rocky times, and cheered each other on in good times. I look forward to these daily visits with friends. Just knowing they’re there, puts a smile on my face.

5. Love for the long-haul. If your relationship has outlived that heady feeling of romantic love, cheer up. According to E. Sherwood Brown, M.D., Ph.D., associate professor of psychiatry at UT Southwestern Medical Center, Dallas, staying for the long-haul has its advantages. “Long-term effects of being in love, as in stable relationships, appear to show a decrease in the body's stress hormones."

Though not the same feeling as the euphoria of new love, seasoned love brings its own rewards. Jane Jarrell, a Dallas author with 15 years of marriage under her belt, refers to this stage of love as the “comfortable jean stage.” It’s a “relaxed fit.”

Fran Sandin, an RN and author in Greenville, has been married for 44 years. “The tranquil stage of love is my favorite,” she says. “We’ve learned to laugh about things we used to fuss about. Security in our marriage has also freed us to experience great joy in serving others."

6. Do something you enjoy. If you don't have a pastime you're passionate about, get one. Hobbies enrich our spirit immensely and often give us “self-definition,” says author Susan Sheehan. Whether it’s volunteering at a hospital, painting landscapes, or growing tomatoes, people who engage passionately in a pastime live fuller, happier lives.

This article first appeared in The Dallas Morning News, by Dayle Allen Shockley.

All rights reserved.



The Perfect Cup of Tea

I'm a coffee drinker. I prefer it black and often. Perhaps that's why I’d never given hot tea much of a chance. As a Southern girl to the bone, I like my tea sweet and cold, with lots of ice. Still, there were times I'd give hot tea a try, but it only tasted like iced-tea warmed up. No, thanks. I didn’t like it at all.

But as fate would have it, I happen to have a beautiful cyberspace friend in gorgeous Oundle, England, and she was always raving about her tea. So, a year or two ago, I asked her what was the secret to a perfect cuppa (as they call it across the pond), and she happily shared her “recipe” with me.

Here’s how to do it:

While a kettle of water heats up, gather your ingredients:

• One special tea cup and saucer
• One nice, round Tetley tea bag
• One teaspoon of choice
• Honey (optional)
• Milk

When the water boils, pour over the tea bag, filling cup about ¾ to the top.

Place saucer over cup and allow to steep at least three minutes.

After tea has steeped, squeeze tea bag and remove.

Add enough milk to make the tea the color of rich caramel.

Add 2-3 teaspoons of honey (more or less; suit your own sweet tooth) and stir well.

Sip slowly and savor the moment.

Repeat this simple pleasure as often as necessary.

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