Noble

Adjective

1. having excellent moral character, possessing high ideals or excellent moral character

2. relating to high moral principles, based on high ideals or revealing excellent moral character

A big part of the AA tradition is to make a fearless self inventory. To identify those we have harmed as a result of our addictions and to make apology to them and where possible, restitution. So far I’m finding this spiritual growth thing slow going, like trying to build a house, brick by brick, did I mention I also have to make my own bricks like the Israelites in captivity? Yet, it is coming along, or rather, I am crawling along and seeming to become more awake and aware of how our lives are all entwined, like so many degrees of separation.

Evidence: I had begun a message to my ex-love, with Christmas wishes as a very plausible excuse. I had filled it with all the many reasons, oh so cleverly disguised, why he was a fool to have lost me. But for some (fateful) reason I had not printed it. But, but, but. I slept on it. I replayed it. What was I trying to do? Thinking deeper. Oh, Friend, it so easy, so convenient and so self-comforting to delude ourselves about our motivations. You hurt me. I hurt you. Isn’t that simple enough? That’s nothing less than the way of the world, the expected way. That is not the Christian way, “The Way” that I am coming to know. I have every reason to be bitter and lash out - according to the world’s view. But what do I look like when the Almighty looks at me? My Bible says that His ways are not our ways.

What do I truly believe? That I married a flawed person? That I loved in a flawed way? I can do nothing else. Only God can love each of us perfectly. The man I loved above all else, including my own health and self-esteem, succumbed to mental illness. In a way I feel I abandoned him, that he shouldn’t be left to try to fend for himself But, but, but. The world says he has the right to choose his own path, even if that path destroys him. I must leave it to God. Then could there be any excuse for trying to ease my own pain by rubbing salt into someone else’s wounds? How can that feeling have anything to do with love? This man doesn’t even know he is inflicting wounds on himself – or Lord, he does know and is helpless to stop. God be with people who are so tortured!

Oh my lost one - how I loved him even as he slipped through my hands! My pleading, my explanations came to mean nothing and then he stopped hearing me altogether. Then I stopped pleading and explaining. Lord, give me peace. The recollection of that beautiful face, that familiar embrace, that voice opens up an ache for everything that the world said I was promised after loving him, having children together, caring for him and bearing his deceptions for the decades that will now forever mark my life. The world lied! We are not promised even one more hour with the one we love. Heed this. It is a lesson learned at great cost.

Now, what does the splendor of my God suggest to me? That though my beloved has cut me so deeply, he, as Jesus said, doesn’t even know what he does. Do I know what I do? Do I dare to voice what else I’m thinking? That my co-dependence has prolonged his illness? Do I dare admit this to myself? That I tried to help and made it worse? Doesn’t love cure everything? Or is that what the world says - again? I want to shut this all off and watch some other show. This one makes me feel uncomfortable.

But watch it I will, my Lord I told You that I wanted only Your will for my life. In that, at least, I did not lie though it seems the path has been littered with lies of every description – the worlds, the fairy tales, my partners, my own. I have a choice to look in the mirror and truly see who is there. I can choose to stay my own hand and not strike out. The only choice I ever have is the choice of what I will do. What must I do then, Lord? And then the still, small voice - You come immediately to my mind, to my ear. Praise You! Yes, Lord. I will praise You and thank You. Thank You for letting me experience such a love in my lifetime - imperfect as it was, as I am. It was a construction as beautiful as a perfect rose, and as fragile. Thank You for the wonder of parenthood and my beautiful children. Thank You, Dearest Father for bringing me to a point where I can recognize my shallow motivations. Let me strive toward that light however much it shows of my own sin. Let me become what You have in mind. Let me choose instead to act nobly.

Ki

Small Essay #1 on Jesus

Black Swan at Waterside - just one example of the loveliness of God's provision for me. This was taken in my 'backyard' one sunny morning on a walk around the lake. A white swan lives on the lake as well but wasn't there this particular day. The white and black are quite fond of each other and are often seen in company together. If only people were as wise!

The Italian Gardens at Maymont. This is only one shot of many I made on an outing this summer. This beautiful Richmond park was the setting for many of the scenes in the movie, "Sally Hemmings."

Small Essay 1 on Jesus-

The world has seen many great minds come and shine in their respective fields of endeavor. I am even aware of modern day psychologists who have tried to attribute IQ scores to some of the great inventors and thinkers who lived before such tests to measure intelligence were fashioned. I have not seen any one of these projected scores for Jesus.

History does not doubt the existence of a 1st century poor man's philosopher-teacher known as Jesus of Nazareth. This man was significant through his application of the ideas of peace and brotherly love. Though he was born to a poor family in an occupied country under the often violent rule of Rome, he became one of the most influential figures that ever lived. The Western world even measures time according to this one man's birth and death. His life and wisdom is recorded in several accounts which appear in the best selling book of all time, the Bible. Jesus' genius was apparent in his political or rather non-political development of a practical philosophy of world peace. In more modern times, Jesus' philosophy was the basis for the ideology of individuals such as Mahatma Ghandi and Martin Luther King Jr. Jesus, himself was his own best example of the philosophy in action when he went peaceably to his death by crucifixion at the hands of Romans who were influenced in convicting him by local religious officials who opposed Jesus' ideaology.

What kind of man is willing to die for an idea of peace? We might too quickly answer 'everyone who has died in a war' but that wouldn't be correct. Wars are fought for many reasons, often politically motivated but also for territory, defense, greed, gain or simply hatred. Jesus is remembered not just for his idea of peace or his death but the quotes attributed to him in the New Testament are profound, betraying a nearly unfathomable wisdom in the simplest language. His intellect is revealed as highly improbable for an uneducated laborer, (he was trained as a carpenter). Improbable also is the far-reaching vision of his plan - a plan to change the heart and mind of each individual so that the physical reality of oppression, want, hunger, anger, or any undesirable circumstance is experienced through the substitution of altruistic, higher thinking and behavior.

For this philosophy alone, Jesus may have been given a place in history. However, he was known not only as Jesus of Nazareth but Jesus Christ, or Jesus the Christ. Christ meaning Messiah, translated, the expected king and deliverer of the Jews. The Jews before Saul, had no king but the Lord God and according to sacred scriptures, they were given a king almost as a punishment for requesting one. God, of course, is the perfect king and any mere man would reign imperfectly in comparison. Scriptures record miraculous events surrounding Jesus' life, healings, prophesies and visions witnessed by large numbers of people. Jesus as Messiah moved from the realm of teacher/philospher to leader of a new religion. Those who followed his philosopy and also accepted him as an extension of God became known as Christians and faced and continue to face terrible persecutions.

Jesus as God and propitiation for sin will be the subject of another small essay.

Thanks for being here with me tonight, Friend.

Blessings to all,

Ki

Chinese Proverb

It was designed and stitched, sold and photographed and appeared in a magazine. Afterwards I framed it and hung it in the front hall of my house. I saw it every time I went out and then again, every time I came back in. It was done in cotton floss and metallic threads on a coffee colored linen, lovely really. I must have put it there because it was so pleasant to look at. Did I never really listen in my heart to what the stitched words said? "If I keep a green bough in my heart, the singing bird will come." My tree has been so shrivelled and dry, so blasted by the cold reality of disappointment and betrayal. For a long season there has been no green. It has not been life really but adjustment. Could it be that now a spring approaches? These words have taken on meaning now because I can see that optimism is an exercise in faith. There is faith in sending a small bud of hope into the pale light of day. Faith is everything. Faith is believing that Christmas will come, and that there will be a Spring after the winter. And even, a singing bird.

Something new to be thankful for. God bless you all.

Ki

Baby Steps

Thank you, Lord. You have let me glimpse a light at the end of this tunnel of anger and pain. Thanks for taking the time to teach me, for loving me, for all of it, Father. No matter how giving or well-meaning I am, people really are going to use me and hurt me and let me down. Just as they did to You. And somehow, over the last few weeks I am beginning to believe I am capable of forgiveness. Not through anything that I can do. I'm just a bottom feeder grousing around in my puddle of self-pity and complaints, But with You at the wheel, unbelievable as it may seem, I think I can make this journey. Is this what real faith is, Jesus? Like the Christians walking out into the Coliseum. Were they dragged kicking and screaming or did they walk, heads up, maybe slowly but with the knowledge that You were with them? Am I really big enough to forgive? Shine through me, Lord because I'm only a fool. In wide-eyed wonder just floored that I can still learn a little something this late in the game. How patient You've been with me. And how true it is - that there can never be peace in the world if we can't get over the ones who hurt us personally, if we can't clear our own slates of all the petty human emotions that force us down, force us to keep scores. Isn't the earth full enough of people who want to get even for getting hurt? Isn't there enough blame and name-calling?

You are so beautiful. If only I could be like You just a little! What a light would be shone on every dark corner of my life! Lord, let me do the right thing, even if it's just in baby steps. Following you is not something I jumped into and You know too well. I came along hesitating, two steps forward, one step back. But ever let me come to You, however slow, however I fumble and trip. If I can put my head out of my shell just a little and even think about forgiveness for someone who continues to do wrong as the world measures it, then I am making progress aren't I?

Love to all,

Ki

Recycled

It's not too early to shop, wrap, pack for the blessed Christmas holiday. Not for me. And if you knew me you'd know I'm a recycler extraordinaire. So going through my great stash of Christmas wrap and bags I found an especially large and beautiful bag. I didn't remember buying it, as years run together lately in my memory. I checked the little gift card that was hanging from the handle and Yep, sure was a recycled bag (one that looked unused and was rescued from going out with the Christmas trash to serve again one day). The card said "Poppy", written in my very own script. Poppy was one of my affectionate nicknames for the someone I recently divorced. Let's see, there was also "Jumjie, Joebjie, Gummy." Hahahaha. All past tense. But the bag was truly beautiful, well worth keeping. I ripped the little card off and into several pieces. I'll recycle it - as I had intended to that unremembered number of years ago. And I'll unremember the lost pet names.

I did want to comment on the last post though. I thought about it, thought about just removing it but what it this thing anyway? A diary for the world to see? Our world is so small now. It's so close to the end - the way I read my Revelation. It is going to stay because I wrote it. It's the way I felt and I am only a fallible human trying to be more. This page is about my work toward a recovery. It takes time. There are emotions and rough spots. But it's going well. If I can help someone else work through the jumble of feelings when a long, long term relationship dies then good for me. If I can help someone else see that striving toward spiritual growth is just that - striving. I am not a puppet. So let's recycle by all means. But what's meant to be discarded, discard. What's meant to be saved, even treasured - well then, I'll save and treasure.

Peace to You,

Ki

The Lilies

Former Hopeless Romantic Stomps into the Sunset Under a Full Head of Steam
OK. Self-improvement under the gentle hand of the world's greatest teacher is confessedly the only way to attempt to mature. (Confessedly? Is that a word?). Anger. Anger. Anger. It's like a volcano, an elemental force with the same destructive power of the forces of nature. Except heartless, careless former "loves" are never affected. And admittedly that might be a simplification but there's no doubt in my mind that it hurts me and those around me more than it hurts those who actually should be punished.

Example? The father of my daughter has simply stopped paying his court ordered support. Gee, I wish I could just stop paying those bothersome bills that find their way into my mailbox every month. This is the same 'man' who wanted to fight for custody! Really? Maybe some cosmic dimension would have shifted if he had succeeded in getting custody and groceries would cost less there and kids wouldn't need school supplies or winter coats. I blessedly haven't seen him in 7 months but I can't imagine that he's grown less fat from going without food himself - or gotten leaner because he has to bicycle rather than pay for his van. But then there are priorities. And there is much wisdom in the phrase "Talk is cheap." A person can say anything they want to, lie to their kids, lie to others, lie to themselves.

Where does this leave us tonight? I can hear my caring (and clucking) sisters tell me I must move on. And truly I must. This entry is an example of the insidious nature of sin exhibiting itself in the fallen condition of humankind. In June of 2004 when I was in the midst of the actual fire fight, at a prayer disciples meeting I made up a list of the things I desperately needed God to provide for me if I was to actually step out on faith and leave the pathetic and hideous being that my husband had become. (Is truth not cruel in some realities?). When I revisited that list a year later each and every one of those prayers had been answered so completely as to remove any doubt about the ultimate outcome of my condition, physically, emotionally, responsibly and financially. I am able because the God I serve is able. OK again. I have seen His gracious provision. Yet I am still angry. Why? Because I have spiritual growth ahead of me as well as a little behind me.

Will I ever truly be able to turn the other cheek? If my goal is to imitate Christ how very long will that uphill road be! Even as I know He pulled me from quicksand that I had jumped into freely of my own will I can scarcely keep myself from revisiting the scenes of my former slavery! What I want to do - that I do not do. And what I do not want to do - that I do! It's as old as the gospel. As current as my heart beating faster in anger.

Will God provide groceries for my child? A winter coat? Of course, He will. Of course. He will. He is a perfect, loving father. Not like the tens of thousands of broken fathers, any one of whose stories I might have been telling here - not just the one who abandoned me and my family to pursue happiness in drugs and delusion. And in my striving with my own nature I pray Father, for that closer walk. I no longer pray with the desperate fervor that I once did for him. There is so much need in this world - like the hands that reach out at the Christmas season. It seems that for each loaf there are a million hungry mouths and for each fish 2 million! Only a God can fulfill the need. Fulfill the need in me, Lord. Drown the angry spirit with Your love. Overcome the darkness in my spirit with Your light. Like Easter, at Christmastime, bring me back to life. So let it be, my Savior.

MME

Immortality

Who can believe it? Who can not believe it? I will end. I will turn to dust and be gone. As if it never happened. I will be oblivious to everything - light, sound, feelings. Bruised heart will refuse to beat again and everything will fade to black. Even marble tombstones will weather and no one will be able to read what may have long ago been chiseled there.

Or - something else? Say what you want to but my beloved brothers Gibb say it so well in their lyrics - "We don't say goodbye."

"So this is who I am,
and this is all I know.
And I must choose to live,
for all that I can give,
the spark that makes the power grow.

And I will stand for my dream if I can,
symbol of my faith in who I am,
but you are my only.

And I must follow on the road that lies ahead.
And I won't let my heart control my head.
But you are my only. "

B., M., & R. Gibb

You are my only one. Who is this "You" for me? I love my children as any devoted mother. I love my siblings. They've given me much of the joy in my life. I love my relatives, my dear aunts, uncles, cousins and Mother, who truly deserves every one of those silly "Best Mom in the World" shirts and mugs. Surely the "You" is not either of my errant former spouses. But why pretend? I do know. The You is the He - not only the One but actually the only One. The constant, caring, tender and truly present perfect Love of my life. Born in the Middle East through a mystical union of the Spirit of God and the flesh of men. And I, foolish yet sublime creation that I am , have been invited to a cosmic existence without end. Do I shout Thank You, Jesus!? Is that pentecostal paraphrase up to the task ? Absolutely not! But words will never do. The Bible says "My soul pants after Thee, like a deer panteth after the stream". That may be a little closer but how does the single puzzle piece find meaning outside of the puzzle? That is how I felt apart from You. If my eyes ever leave you, Lord tear them from me. If my feet ever stray from following you then let them burn. Oh yes, Lord. I can never understand this invitation. I've been spun into being like cotton candy on a paper stick. You knew me before I was born, wrapped my essence in blood and bone so that I might perform in this play of Yours.

There is movement behind the set, stage hands are moving props into place. You have set me in this time, this act, this scene. Will I perform well? I know You are staying to watch me and You'll be here for the end. Maybe I will, too. I will take my turn and retire. And when I put my head down - there You are! Lighting every dark corner, hovering near. Thank You for being my friend and companion. Sweet Savior thank You that it is not the way it seems to the blind and fickle world. Your reality is more sublime than any creation - light, color, music. And Robin Gibb's voice? Lord, thank You!

Blessings to all,

MME

His Constant Care

When I find myself in times of trouble - it isn't Mother Mary, but her glorious Son who speaks into my gloom. So very much has changed in this past year and a half. I've found myself questioning many things. One thing that has been proved out to me is that God has plans for me and I am going to be happiest and most successful if I wait on Him. The best laid plans I've ever had for myself, the things I've worked at or run after in my own way haven't always turned out the way I'd expected. Some things have come back to bite me. In my foolish, self-ish thinking I imagined that pouring enough effort, time and energy into my marriage would make my ex-spouse a.) happy, b.) alright, c.) love me - you can choose one or fill in the blank. But my efforts can't change anyone who has made up their minds to do something - even if that something might not be in their own best interests.

I can't save anyone. I can't even save myself. Thank God that He sent someone to save me. Now, as a faded moon sets out of sight on one horizon of my world a new and beautiful sun rises on the other. It's called Home. I believe that a move is in my future. Even now I won't say that there was no reason for me to move South. The reason was something that the Lord alone knew. He is moving in my life and among my loved ones. Thanks will never be enough. Hope and dependence on Him alone will always be enough. He moves mountains and brings the dead to life again. Here I am and there I will go.

God bless all who visit here.

Peace to you,

Ki

Today equals Yesterday

Today, Aug. 8 was for many years, the anniversary of my wedding. I was aware of this all day. I felt agitated, resentful, wistful, anything but settled and serene. This evening I found myself alone and then I looked at my e-mail. Sure enough, my former spouse had sent an e-mail, frivolously marking the occasion. He’d sent some headlines of things that had happened on this date in history. I thought ‘What is he trying to say?” Does he just not know how to leave it be? If you kill something – have the decency to leave it buried. This trite reminder is disrespectful. But how much it is in keeping with the way he treated me at the end. Is this then how we treat the memory of something dear that has died? Then I thought that a marriage really doesn’t die. Nothing so final and formal. It fades like the colors of some old shirt. Like the joy does, like the hope does, fades like the respect and the love do. Like a plant, without watering – it shrivels and soon it’s just a dried husk of what it used to be. What hope is there for dead plants, and dreams?

And what would I have if I could have what my heart desires? God knows that I don’t even know. Do I have a heart? Desires? Tonight I want only to wrap myself in the black shroud of this aloneness, to feel it and let it chill me to the core so that some tomorrow I can emerge into the sunlight.

August 8th. It used to mean a day of promises and dreams. Today, August 8th is “Yesterday.” “Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play, now I need a place to hide away.” Well said, Paul. A day, or rather, a night to mourn. August 8 – may you fade and shrivel into something of a size that I can handle. Tonight, you are too much for me. Yet I know God’s mercies are new every morning. Lord, if You wake me, please give me new perspective on my yesterdays and if You are willing, my tomorrows. Good night.

The Beatles

"Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" (Isaiah 40:30-31).

On youth – well I can only comment on my youth and really, I wouldn’t want to go back there. But I do remember that in the past, in the beautiful moments – so often they were defined through the popular music – which was oftentimes back then, Beatle’s music. Didn’t I, so many times, try to let lyrics define what was happening in my heart? I’d let them speak for me. And as so often in life, we are defined by our youth, not just what happened to us that shaped us but on the way things were – as though we must maintain some kind of loyalty to our own generation. And so, my recent experience with divorce is no exception to that Beatles soundtrack. But it was a downward defining backdrop. “We Can Work it Out” gave way to “You’re Going to Lose That Girl.” An observation, a plea for rectification becoming a warning. A ‘warning’ that went unheeded. “I’m Looking Through You,” became “Nowhere Man.” The love of my life became someone I couldn’t even recognize. And finally – someone I didn’t want to know.
Finally, my own heart hardened over and my anthem now is “Not A Second Time”, not because he has sought another chance, not at all. It is the theme song of mistrust. No one will break this heart again, no never. Because I won’t trust again.

There is a Beatles song that I will sing forever to a special someone. “In My Life,” a song so poignant and wise that it seems impossible that men as young as Lennon & McCartney were in ’65 should have written it. I sing it to my Lord. He is the only one to be trusted, the only one who loves in a perfect and timeless way. Youth? Maybe it was wasted on me. Didn’t I fret foolishly over appearances? Didn’t I flirt and think that the world was to be found in the approval and desire of others? Silly, saddened person that I was. Lord, let me sing to You alone and enjoy this period of healing that Your perfect love has provided. “The Long and Winding Road”?, Lord lead me on it as long as it leads to You.

Ki

Allyn Street

OK - here's me and Lore at the front gate on Allyn Street. This was the day of cousin Dave's wedding. That's why we're all dressed up. I remember I made that dress. Now - honesty being a pretty good policy we must tell - this particular photo is about 20 years old and me and Lore definitely aren't (any more). But we sure are smiling, smiling, smiling!!! Well, anyway, I still can sew. And Lore can do a mean lasagna. All around - some pretty cool kids, right?

Out-of-Sorts or How Meeting a Christian Prince can Save Your Day

Yesterday I was out-of-sorts. Now this is some old fashioned phrase that describes how you feel when you’re head is on sideways. Or you just can’t describe the weird feeling that you might get mad, but there’s nothing to be mad about. You might be getting sick, or something is wrong but what the heck, you just can’t figure it out. This is the mood I was in until last night. Whew! Because last night I met a Prince.

A new friend from church treated me to a concert. Christian recording artist, Mark Schultz, performed to a packed house in central Virginia. Part of that packing was me, my friend Amy, and her (well-behaved and pleasant) niece and nephew. I have been to many types of concerts in my life, seen headline acts from several decades. But I’ve never heard a voice so clear and strong. Mark played a new video he’s made of a great song he wrote and performed which honors our troops. I’m sure I could have made a nice sum selling tissues to sop up the tears of that audience! Besides singing, playing piano and guitar and telling the stories behind some of his hits, Mark encouraged us to sing along on some well known hymns to praise our God.

After the performance, Amy’s nephew wanted to get Mark’s autograph. At my age, (and having my disposition) I tend more toward impatience at waiting in line than feeling awestruck toward celebrities. We waited (and waited – it really wasn’t too, too bad) and the boy got the autograph. Before I knew it though Amy was introducing me to Mark Schultz!. “This is my friend, Mona,” she said. I looked up and standing right there in front of me was a Christian Prince. Photos truly can’t capture charisma and normally witty me – I was speechless. “Mona,” he said and took my hand. He didn’t shake it, just held it. “Your hand is hot,” he observed not letting go. Gulp! 'It might have been that I’d just nearly flayed it apart clapping for your wonderful concert,' I thought later. But at that moment, I couldn’t think. Words escaped me and if you know me - that is absolutely impossible. I can’t keep quiet! “That’s because my heart is cold,” I finally managed jokingly. “Oh, that’s not true,” Mark said looking straight through me into my brain. The piercing clarity of those eyes! Somehow I ended up in the parking lot with my friends and a large smile across my silly face. No longer out-of-sorts.

Did I mention meeting a Christian Prince? Part of the out-of-sorts mood is my negative feelings about being divorced. Sometimes I get ‘husband obsessed’ and anxious about being lonely. It’s certainly not the way I want to be. I’ve gone to the Lord about it many times in prayer. Anyway, when we first arrived at the concert, Amy couldn’t decide where to sit. I had no opinion in the matter, so when she finally chose a row toward the right of center stage that was fine with me. Already sitting at the end of that row was a large man with a moustache and clean-shaven head wearing a Hawaiian shirt. He was from Williamsburg. He was alone. Throughout the evening he sang and he bowed in head in prayer, smiled, and even spoke briefly to me. I enjoyed a brief fantasy that we had come to the concert together, that his large, strong arm was around the back of my seat. I didn’t see him leave, never learned his name but the point that the Lord made to me was very clear. The world is not only full of His glory but it is also filled with a good many Christian sons to put across the paths of His Christian daughters

Lord, how wonderful You are! Again I am made to know that there are no coincidences in Your dealings with us. I am going to trust You, Father. I am going to calm this heart and wait on You. You are my perfect Father, looking out for me. Loving me even when I’m out-of-sorts. Father, I can’t think of anything on earth more admirable, more wonderful than a man who uses his voice, his talent, his breath and his life to praise You and do Your will. Men who in their walk are becoming You through the work of Your Holy Spirit. No wonder their eyes are beautiful! No wonder they can see into my soul! It’s You in them.

Love to all,

MME

Aristotle is a personality that happens also to be a bear constructed by my sister, Carol. He was sent to me as a consolation prize. Sorry you've lost your spouse but here is a bear. Of course, I was well pleased to receive someone to love and hug (however small and furry). He is the quiet type, seems to hang out a lot at home though I can't be sure what he does when I'm at work or elsewhere. He never seems to make a mess. If he does he must pick up after himself as I don't ever notice anything out of place. Never tries to take the remote. All in all the perfect roommate and gentle..., um, bear.

Wanna come for a walk?

Sometimes I think I’m so clever. And if someone really needs some advice I try to rise to the occasion. But mostly I’m just a lonely traveler, like you maybe. Living in my head a lot. Trying not to do that quite so much lately though. People are the thing. God loves people. I think I maybe noted this here before. He’s not willing to lose even one. And Christian, we must love people, too. It’s the great commandment. And oh, about the Love thing. Pastor Jay spoke today on Galatians. Powerful. “The entire law is summed up in a single command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ” Gal 5:14 Maybe this is why He’s working on me. Love is actually the answer. It’s not just a pop song line. Ever notice the similarities? Life. Love. Lord. Word. How beautiful the way it is all interwoven!.

1If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.
2If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing.
3If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love. 1 Corinthians 13 (The Message)

Love is the hub of the wheel the world turns on. It is too simple and too marvelous to contemplate. Thank you, Lord for bending down so low to teach a hard-headed fool like me. Lord, teach me how to love. I know I can never do it the way You did. But it’s my business now to try to learn Your holy ways. Now that You have stripped away the extraneous things of my so-called secure world. My marriage, my home, security? It is all nothing. And You, You are everything. You are perfection. Your beauty is incomprehensible. Don’t let me go alone, Jesus. Send Your saints to walk beside me.

Thank you for Pastor Jay. Love your neighbor as yourself. He said that your neighbor is anyone who is around you. Not merely the ones who live next door, who sit in the next seat in church but anyone who is in my vicinity. Am I in the grocery store? Clerks and customers – my neighbors. Am I at work? My co-workers – my neighbors. Am I on the freeway – neighbors. Why is this suddenly so easy to understand? Maybe I’m finally ready to learn. Maybe some distractions are gone. Maybe I had to get to this point of concentration. Whatever brought me here, God bless it.

How typical! One night I’m whining. The next I’m praising. Maybe I’m learning something. Thank You, Jesus for not giving up on me.

Astounding Love to all,

Ki

"God gives, God takes. God's Name be ever blessed!" Job 1:21

Ben's new do

Mr. Maximus Pawsize. Assistant to Ms. Adkins. (though not considered reliable at taking messages.)

Living in the Light or the view from my porch.

Random Complaint Night

Divorce support group. I just joined one online. According to their blurb, they have thousands of members. There sure are a lot of hurting people out there. Why is there so much divorce I wonder? It doesn’t make sense. Don’t we all want the same things? Love and stability? Companionship? Loyalty, a family, somebody who’s ‘got your back’? Somebody to shop for on holidays, cook for, to worry about? A set of eyes to look into and a shoulder to cry on? A hand to hold? What gives, Lord? What did I do wrong where others succeeded? When I see a cute little old couple - I turn away. When I think of my grandparents, remembering their sweet ways with each other, I feel as if all the wind has been knocked from my lungs. Where’s the promise, Lord?

I met someone who filled my vision. A smile and the edges of the world blurred. There was no other human more profound, more glorious, more destined for greatness in our century. Certainly, no one had ever been in love like I was. I forgot for a season that I was fatherless and poor. We were young. We ran away. We needed nothing but each other. I remember joyfully experiencing things as I never had before, colors, tastes, sounds. I recall being giddy with pleasure in the anticipation of our impoverished supper of rice and eggplant. The impossible beating of my heart as the time drew near for work to end so that we could be together. How many years did I carelessly think that love was mine or was guaranteed?

The proverbial rug surely was pulled out from under me. I’m sitting now, still shaking my head and struggling to my knees. Will I rise, Lord? Will my heart ever walk again? In the meantime – this aloneness is so bleak. It feels as if everyone everywhere knows I have failed. I loved too hard, too desperately. I found out later they call it codependency. My love could do no wrong. I wouldn’t see it. But surely there was something wrong. Now, on my knees, Lord, I contemplate my betrayal. On my knees, Lord. I guess that I am correctly situated now. Waiting on Your words. ‘Get up, take your mat and walk' Mark 2:9 No explanations necessary, Lord. Just stitch me up.

The healing’s going pretty slow. Maybe I’ll check out that on-line support group. Thousands according to the blurb. I’m not alone then. Kinda like the sound of that.

Good Night All,

Ki

Mustard Seed

Wrote this in May. Finished it tonight with a little help from Rich Mullins. And if I may quote just one bit "There's bound to come some trouble to your life. Reach out to Jesus. Hold on tight." Feeling better knowing I'm not really alone. And if I'm not alone, then brothers and sisters, neither are you. You're not alone.

Mustard seed,
as insignificant as me
kept along the path
forgotten,
weak, alone

Mustard seed
blown on the wind
dropped from the sky
a tiny speck of
Faith.

Father, help it grow.
Take my seed
of Faith
and make this mountain
of heartbreak
throw itself into the sea.

Mustard seed
a mighty tree to be
because He sacrificed Himself
for weak, heartbroken but
hopeful
Me.

Hold us and bless us all tonight, Father. We sure need you these days.

Love to all,

Ki

Cartoon Comes True

My recovery is going to be a long process. God will see me through and I know that for certain. In fact, I got a glimpse on Wednesday night. Living down South is a little different from Massachusetts where I was raised. Down here, Sunday service isn't enough. There's Bible study on Wednesday night, prayer meeting on Friday, men's and women's groups meeting on one of the other days of the week not accounted for. Anyway, that's a little background to my Wednesday night Bible study story. Also, background is my new feeling about church. To praise God and be surrounded with His church is like a much needed once-a-week tranfusion.

Anyhoo- Wednesday I had an appointment to talk with the pastor and his wife after the Bible lesson. Before things got underway, the assistant pastor, Randy approached me and said that pastor's son was ill and he would be going right home after service since his wife had stayed with the boy. However, Randy and his wife were prepared to keep pastor's appointment with me to best serve my needs. The evening opened with a trio of fellas from the church singing, playing guitar, and drums. Pastor taught on the beautiful and famous Psalm 23. But throughout the evening, I figdgetted and kept having to drag my thoughts back to the here and now. Mostly, I could feel anger welling up inside and strange questions, feelings of doubt. What was the real reason pastor wasn't going to have time for me? Was he passing my problems off as unimportant? This assistant pastor didn't have the background I'd laid for the pastor about my recent experiences and feelings. Why was I wasting my time with people who really didn't want to help me? I wasn't truly welcomed in this group, anyway. I needed to go somewhere else. In fact, I should leave now and not sit through this so-called lesson. These negative feelings increased until I could hardly sit still in my seat.

It was then that it hit me - like the cartoon of an angel sitting on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Praise God! Apparently I had made enough progress in my spiritual walk that I suddenly could see that I was being tempted. Here was yet another cartoon - the light bulb of recognition going off over my head. I recognized, even as the strange thoughts raged that there was a core of peace, calmness as I continued to sit still despite the whirlwind of thoughts inside. The outcome - I spoke to Randy and his wife. They were warm and genuine people and spoke exactly what I needed to hear. Later, I drove home with a smile and the knowledge of the many blessings I'd received on a regular old Wednesday. A good sermon on Psalm 23 - pretty cool. Making new friends of Randy and his wife - not to be missed. A first small spiritual victory under my belt - never to be forgotten. Trusting that 'still, small voice' 1 Kings 19:12 - Priceless!

His blessings to all-

Ki