St. Patrick's Day

I love St. Patrick's Day. Why you ask? Well, it's the least

stressful of the holidays. The other holidays have become

so commercial that they are not even fun to me, any longer.

It's a day to reflect upon a man that did the extraordinary.

St. Patrick, was not born in Ireland, but rather stolen, by

Norsemen, viking & pillaging in Britain, on his parents estate.

How many others, would return to a land, and a people,

that they were enslaved by, after being abducted from their

home. Their freedom being, once again gained back, by running

away, from said enslavement. Then because God told Him to go,

he returned to this land of his former enslavement, to bring

the gospel of Christ, to this land & people that were pegans,

drunkards, murderers, rapists & thieves? If that isn't extraordinary,

I don't know what is.

This is one of many examples, of what God can do in one person,

that can change the hearts and lives of many, in order to bless their

descendants, like me. Sonya Crogan, Smerdell.

Thank you God, for sending St. Patrick to Ireland, to bring a nation to You.

Well Water

Our water softener went a little crazy.  We still have water.  It taste fine, smells like water should and it takes the dirt and smudge off our clothing.  However, it leaves a white film.  A white frosty film on our glasses, a chalky covering on the plates, and it seams as though we may be showering in baking soda.  It is still water, still refreshing, still useful though it leaves a residue.
We often draw from the well of our lives.  We may be searching for strength, encouragement, or even rest.  Does the "water" we draw from ever leave a film?  Still it may refresh us, yet it leaves a chalky residue for all to see.  We may feel it, but cannot understand what it is or where it has come from.
God offers us living water through His son Jesus Christ.  May we bask in the pure, refreshing and holy water that is offered to us.  This Easter season let us be ever so mindful of the well we draw from.
Life giving
Free flowing
Pure

Can't fix it.

   He and his story sticks in my head like a burr.  In the darkest part of German history, his light shown out. If you don't recognize him, I will tell you he is Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  He was a German patriot that loved his homeland and a Lutheran pastor that LOVED GOD. When the Nazis stole Germany away and started killing Jews, he fought them tooth and nail.  When he could no longer legally fight them, he joined the Nazi party and became a spy deeply involved in the Hitler assassination plot called Operation Flash.  Mystery, intrigue, cat and mouse surrounded him and he just handled it.  Extremely well.  He was going to reclaim his home for true German people.  Cool, right?  The Nazis found him out and JUST before the war ended he was hanged in a prison camp as a traitor.  That's the part that kills me.
     I thought about writing Quantum Leap type story about a way to save this man.  But then, what would we do with him after that?  This man that LOVED Germany would now have to live through the brutal, albeit deserved, bifurcation of his country.  The choices that he would have had to make would probably have gotten him shot by Communists.
     BUT, I'm writing fiction, right?  So now, let's put Dietrich in the modern era with our amazing time machine.  This is no solution either.  The man loved peace, quiet, trainable hearts and ordinands.  He thought of making Protestant almost monasteries for young men wanting to follow God into the calling of pastor.  Where would he fit in our society of loud, bawdy obnoxiousness?  And what would he do with modern German culture?  It is now getting ridiculous.
     So now, as I put down the book on my night stand, I pray.  I mourn the loss of this great mind, but realize that God's best plan for this person was to be hanged by depraved Nazis.  This is a huge whopping blow to my mind.  How could this be?  It is moments like this everyday that I realize, I am glad that Yaweh is GOD and I am just me. 

The Wait

Image From:  http://www.fromparis.com/pict-of-the-week/orsay-museum-and-the-clock.html

The Wait

Self-Control Wavers

As the mind registers

“You will have to wait.”

A hundred ideas

Flood the attention

In a temporary panic of excitement

Each quickly Dissipating

Like Sea Foam on the waves

Leaving the stark sand of the Possible

Trapped inside an Hourglass

Disappointment battles with Necessity

Finally, Compromise

Is made, and Self

Settles into thought or action

Like an old house into its Foundations

Occupied in Theory, Distracted!

Only by the slowly-moving,

Unsympathetic yet Reliable

Hands of Time

Slowly

Slowly sliding

Slowly collapsing

Slowly tightening

Slowly darkening

Slowly succumbing

Slowly suffocating

Gray.  Cool. Despair

My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord;
My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.

Slowly warming

Slowly feeling

Slowly breathing

Slowly awakening

Slowly brightening

Slowly stopping

Lighter.  Warmer.  Hope.

Better is one day in your courts

than a thousand elsewhere.

An Uneducated Woman

"In everything give thanks for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." We sang that all the time to a catchy little tune. In my bitter moments of complaining against The Lord, it made my fate personal, chosen. It made God seem unloving. I would think, "This is your will for me! Well, thank you so much." One of the hardest things is feeling so uneducated. I graduated from college with honors, but I am deeply ignorant even in areas where it would seem I should know something.
Teresa of Avila and I are making a much belated acquaintance. Everywhere I looked there she was, so I've begun with The Story of My Life. Over and over again she refers to herself as an uneducated woman. Separated by centuries, I shout at the her in the book, "You are a Doctor of the Church!" As page after enlightening page is turned, I discover the advantages of a limited education combined with a heart hungry only for God. If her mind was cluttered with everyone else's great thoughts, she might not have simply shared her experiences. The clarity of her descriptions and the good sense with which she explains them might have been lost and then where would this uneducated woman be?

Chasing Grandma

  When I was young, I loved going to my Grandma's house and hanging out. I would spend days at a time learning how to crochet, making crafts, watching game shows on TV, and assisting her with her business. One of my favorite things was to listen to the stories that she and my Grandad would tell.
  When they were just kids, my Grandad watched a little barefoot girl driving cows across a field. He turned and told his uncles who were with him, "That's the girl I'm going to marry". And sure enough, he did. Then the stories really got good. There were stories about growing up on the farm, of their military life, jumping out of airplanes, running their gas station/diner, working in the factory, drag racing with the teens who worked for them,....story after story after story.
  One day while I was sitting with Grandma crocheting, she started telling me stories about giving birth to my mom, my aunt, and my uncles. She also told me of several miscarriages that she had suffered. She said thoughtfully, "You know, if I had carried all of my pregnancies to full term, I would have had ten children." My Grandad had just come in the back door and piped in, "Yeah, and if I could have caught her every time I tried, we would have had a lot more!".  I can still see the grin on his face as Grandma blushed and said "Oh, Denver!".
  Two days ago Grandad passed away. Grandma had already out run him 2 years ago when she went to heaven. They had been married and making stories together for 68 years. I am thankful for the grandparents that God hand picked for me, and was blessed to have had them for so long. When Grandad slipped away on Thursday, I wonder if he sneaked up on Grandma or if she saw him coming. I am sure, without a doubt, that when they met....she let him catch her.