Showing posts from October, 2016

Let's Stop Pretending

I smiled when the kids dressed in costumes for their harvest parties.  Carrie’s family looks like they stepped out of the story, Frozen.  Mark looked great with Tom’s red tie for his Trump suit and Amy borrowed my grey pantsuit to go with her Hillary mask. 

Oh, the fun and laughs when we pretend to be somebody we’re not!

Masks, however, are no longer fun when we see hypocrisy in the Body of Christ.  I’m troubled when Christians teach Bible studies and write Christian books but rebel like the world.  Are they deceived?  Is it all about financial gain?  Do they believe the gospel?
They lead people astray.
A popular female Christian Bible teacher whose books line many women’s shelves appeared on a Christian TV program and talked about her latest endeavor, a fiction novel.   I liked her ministry back in the days when she, though molested, chose to leave it in the past and focus on victory in the Word of God.   I noticed on the TV program that she spent too much time on the molestation topic.…

Squirt Gun Strategy

My liberal girlfriend celebrated her birthday.  She’s the one who worships the sun, moon, stars, trees and the air.She wants a woman president.

I sent her daisies and a cute sentiment.  I fought off the temptation to send trumpet flowers wishing her a trumped up day, encouraging to smile bigly.
What would that accomplish?
“Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt.” Cassandra Clare
Sarcasm, I kiss you goodbye.  I don’t want any part of you.  We live in a country where freedom reigns in worship as well as in elections.  We can be on opposite ends but still love each other!
Can’t we?
A few weeks ago, I attended an open house party for our new neighbors on the next block.    I found myself in a circle of conservatives gathered around the couch in the family room.   The hostess’s bold father captured our group’s attention as he spoke about his conservative political views.  Our new neighbor, his daughter, walked past our group and heard him. 
“Knock it off, Dad” his liberal daught…

Broken Lives Matter

I spent the last days of summer in San Diego.  My daughter sent me a plane ticket and invited me to spend the week with her while her husband traveled on business.
Besides long talks over coffee, we cooked together and enjoyed family dinners at Chili’s and Panera Bread.  We soaked up the warm sun at Coronado Beach, worked out with a walk through Balboa Park, helped with homework and Girl Scout stuff and watched Netflix. 
Nothing like family! 
The highlight of my week that warms my heart and rates a ten on my vacation happiness scale happened when my daughter and I attended midweek Women’s Bible Study together.  It testified to what God can do with a broken heart. 
Six years ago, my daughter faced single motherhood, and lived alone without family or friends close by.  Desperate for help, she joined her church’s Women’s Group.  Sensitive women ministers helped her financially, taught God’s Word and filled her with hope.  Those dark days drained me too but on visits back then, I met the l…

The Cover Up

A restful nap may not be everyone’s forte’ but a skipped shower begs for a cover up of some kind.

After breakfast in Sedona, a highway sign advertised Farmer’s Market.  My husband, Tom, wanted to go.  He met a vendor earlier in the week that graced The Pantry, an outreach to the homeless, where he volunteers.  He tasted a free sample from a tray of Baklava she carried in for the staff to enjoy.  When Tom thanked her for her mouth watering sweet treat, she told him she’s in business to keep her house mortgage afloat.  She hoped to lure buyers to the upscale Sedona Farmer’s Market where she sells her secret recipe. 
The Taste of Baklava will lead a man anywhere. I wanted to walk around the market too that Sunday morning but felt sick with an allergic reaction from breakfast food.  I agreed nonetheless.  Homemade cinnamon walnut bread smelled delicious in one booth, and we viewed colorful artwork in another.  We found the Baklava lady and purchased a few pieces.  Tom talked on and on.  I l…

Letting Go

My dialogue with God sounds like a plea.  “God, if I write about death, about dying to self, about the ultimate surrender, nobody will want to read my blog posts.  I will lose my friends.” 
It’s All About Exchange He invites me to come alongside Him and receive a new revelation about death that describes it not gruesome but exhilarating.  He places a picture in my mind; you’ve probably seen the graphic.  A little girl clutches her shabby old teddy bear with Jesus kneeling across from her asking for it with his out stretched hand.  She doesn’t see his other hand holding a huge new bear with a big red heart on it behind his back. 
He whispered the word, “Death” and confirmed it to me by a blogger friend who challenged his readers to view worldly pursuits in light of eternity.  They become less and Jesus becomes more.
And in a Women’s Bible Study, eternal life rules the discussion group and I pay attention to many voices crying out for freedom to let go of those things that no longer hold …