Holy Word-Filled Wednesday

And Be Thankful

Colossians 3:12-15
12 Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience,
13 bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do.
14 And over all these put on love, that is, the bond of perfection.
15 And let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body. And be thankful.

Whine Festival

What is it about this time of year that sees so many people whining? Fatigue from too many car trips with the children to their sports, their music, their you-name-it?

Is it the prospect of the upcoming holidays while the fall festivals are still in full throttle?

There was a time when a hectic schedule meant the baby kept us up at night and we were facing a wonky washing machine or a calamitous car. Yet we were grateful for the food on the table, the freedom to pray thanks for our food, and for a warm home. The only whining to be heard came from a 3 year old or a 6 year old begging for a toy or disputing with a sibling. It was an era in which nothing short of a tragic loss would elicit the kinds of sounds that we hear all too readily in casual conversation today.

Let us remember to give thanks long before the commercialized national holiday: thanks for
Freedom to worship
Freedom to vote
Freedom of speech
and oh so very many more.

That's me away.

Rain

We have been receiving gentle rains for two days now. Tis a blessing and a relief. The fall planting of bulbs is now underway and the rains have softened our clay enough to let us dig.

I enjoy working in these gentle rains; wearing wellies and apron, it can be muddy. But then when a child I always played in the mud...some things do not change as we get older. Though mud pies have given way to apple pies, I still love the slosh and mess of the muddy hole. I know it as sign of life and growth.

That's me away.

Holy Word-Filled Wednesday

1 John 5:16-17
If anyone sees his brother committing what is a not a mortal sin, he will ask, and God will give him life for those whose sin is not mortal. There is sin which is mortal; I do not say that one is to pray for that. All wrongdoing is sin, but there is sin which is not mortal.

Holy Word-Filled Wednesday

11 And God did extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul,
12 so that handkerchiefs or aprons were carried away from his body to the sick, and diseases left them and the evil spirits came out of them.
Acts 19:11-12

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One Finished, Another Undertaken

The apple and pumpkin butters are in the jars and the applesauce is in the kettle. The delicious aromas of cinnamon and other spices fill the house. While the applesauce slowly cooks, I have been placing hay around the garden plants and herbs in the hope of conserving the moisture and preparing for the winter frosts. Still no rain since that last, all too brief respite.

Tis life that: finishing and starting and hoping. Our hope is in Jesus' Divine Mercy and we pray our labors honor Him who sacrificed All for us.

The old cat still holds on, still looks forward to being held and loved and chatted up. She purrs appreciatively, happy with the simplest and most basic graces in her life. Lord, may I too, be content at the end of my days. It is my hope that I have served You well.

Holy Word-Filled Wednesday

Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence.
1 Peter 3:15-16

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Blessed Relief and Balance

At last the rains came if only for 30 minutes. Afterwards the mists rose as sighs of relief from the mountain valleys. How often do we not feel a thing until tis gone? The lack of rain and incessant sunshine reminds us that too much of a good thing is bad.

In the ups and downs of life, how can we fully appreciate the joyous moments without having experienced the sorrow? Drought is like that; be it a drought of joy or a drought of sorrow. Once the drought breaks we find relief.

Those mists remind me that all of life needs a balance ... that too much materialism jades us; that too much celebration fattens us; that constant company leaves us unable to pray; that too much solitude inures us to the plight of our neighbor. Let us pray for balance in all aspects of our spiritual life.

That's me away then.

Stepping Back into Memories

Last evening as I sat on the porch cleaning the kale and collards from our garden, some deer crossed our drive leisurely looking for a snack. Their appearance reminded me of a special cat we had a few years ago. When he died, he took a piece of my heart with him though we only had him a brief 2 1/2 years. Below is his story I wrote for his memory.

A Genius for Friendship November 2003

Homer walked up to me and began talking as though he had known me all of his life. Though he was abandoned, there was no distress in his voice, just a conversational tone of "Hi, how are you; how's your day" kind of meow. He was a massively large black and white with the familiar black mask around his eyes and was more white than black. After going back home and retrieving a cat carrier and some food, I returned to Homer's hangout. He immediately greeted me and before I could put the opened can of tuna in the carrier, he leapt inside and sat down as if to say, "I'm ready to go, why are you fussing with that can?"

All of the way to the vet he continued his conversation as though I was able to understand every word he said and once there, sat patiently on the table while the vet poked and prodded. Sadly the test results came back: advanced feline leukemia. The vet recommended euthanasia but this gentle giant with a genius for friendship had already captured my heart. It was decided: he would stay with us but separate from our 8 other cats.

Homer immediately took over the garage and several acres on our farm. Each morning a small herd of 10 -15 deer would walk up to the house and Homer would meet them, touching noses with the alpha deer and greeting each of the others in turn. After this morning ritual he would return to my side on the porch where I drank my tea and continue his conversation of meows and trills, maintaining eye contact with those huge aquamarine pools of love and inquisitiveness.

There is no doubt in our family that Homer more than earned his keep. Moles and mice plagued our neighbors but the only trace of these pests at our farm would be their limp cadavers in our yard, neatly placed for our appreciation by the Master Hunter. Reptile parts would alert us that we did indeed have lizards and snakes but they did not reside long in Homer's domain.

Homer had no fear of dogs either. The most hyperactive canine would be greeted with the familiar and casual nose touch and a rub from Homer who would then proceed about his business, the canine often following docilely, as though Homer were a general in his own four-legged army.

Two years passed and the feline leukemia finally gained the upper paw. Diabetes onset and kidney failure attacked our Friend. Homer's bright aquamarine eyes remained alert and he fought bravely but in the end was subdued in spite of the IV fluids I administered to him.

Homer's genius for friendship continued long after he was gone. For two months the deer continued to come up to our house, searching and sniffing, looking for their Friend. His dog soldiers searched diligently for their fallen general but eventually stopped after a time. The deer no longer come close to the house but remain at the edge of the woods, looking wistfully our way and the dogs come no more.

Goodbye, Dear Friend Homer, until we meet in God's Garden.

That's me away.

"Falling" into Autumn: Changes

The cool weather continues and no rain still. The pollen count is falling and we will get some relief in that regard. The leaves are beginning to show their colors, the garden continues to grow with the help of the garden hose. The animals frisk about in the fresh coolness, relieved of the overbearing heat.

Tis time to clean the kitchen thoroughly after the canning season. The husband knows to stay away from the kitchen at those times as everything is pulled out, vacuumed, scrubbed and shined. Wisely, he retreats to his workshop or to the local hardware store to visit his friends.

Another, unwelcome change is the season full of developers. Every year they come to our mountains and look for ways to make money by "improving" our small towns. Once they make their money they leave; in their wake are overburdened roads, overcrowded schools, overtaxed properties and overly strained infrastructures. Like locusts, developers care nought for the local impact. They only see opportunity to feed their wallets then move on to the next unsuspecting rural area. Let us pray for the coming of rain and the leaving of the developers.
That's me away then.