Morning Has Spoken

I am determined to follow through with rising earlier, greeting the day, lighting candles, praying and reading the Word.

If time allows, I’d also like to journal those things the Lord lays upon my heart or just doodle along with the journaling.

This morning, I took my first cup of coffee and went outside to listen for the sounds of nature, bird song in particular. The only sound I heard was the desolate howl of a coyote.  It is a spine chilling yowl that makes your blood run cold. Most persons I know abhor the coyote. I know they can do damage and kill livestock and pets, then again I find something wildly exhilarating about them.

Often on my morning commute, I will see the coyote returning to their den as they are nocturnal beings. One morning I was privileged to see a female with two pups crossing the Spur (the road to work) to return to their lodging.

The coyote’s coloring is a varied as yours and mine, but my individual favorite is the blond coloring.  This time of year, they appear to be heavier in weight, but come winter, they will be looking scrawny and lean.

I had a coyote once stop at the side of the road and turn to observe me in my vehicle. It was curious, but then I thought perhaps we were kindred spirits of a sort. I’ve even met them (one at a time) on the walking path behind our home. We both stopped and considered one another. I raised my walking stick and shouted, “I am the alpha female here!” and off she trod, as did I.

We also have Mexican grey wolves in our area, but I have yet to see one. I don’t believe I’d be as brave with the wolf as I am with the coyote.

Speaking of Brave, have you seen the Disney Pixel movie by that name? I had to rent it, if only for the Brave Child with the wild red hair! I enjoyed it, but Grandson did not like it as well, since it had a strong willed girl as the heroine!

One evening he did choose a movie for me to watch, the ever so delightful Disney Pixel “UP”. I always have to have the tissues close by when watching this. It is a “must see” but it is more geared to adult, long term committed relationships. I really, really want an Ellie Badge... "Cross your heart! Cross it!"

lneighbour via Tumblr

Simply yours,

Tamara

Song of Solomon 2:15Amplified Bible (AMP)¹⁵ [My heart was touched and I fervently sang to him my desire] Take for us the foxes, the ^[a]little foxes that spoil the vineyards [of our love], for our vineyards are in blossom.
Footnotes:

1. Song of Solomon 2:15: What is my greatest concern, the thing about which most of all I want Christ’s help? When He asks to hear my voice, what do I tell Him?

I just loved this footnote from the Amplified Bible, so I left it in for you to ponder upon!

Silent Sunday 04.28.2013

Appreciating Health

I've been a bit under the weather since April 12th and spent several hours in the emergency room. I do not recommend the emergency room, unless of course it is for an actual emergency.

I had been experiencing intermittent pain for a couple of weeks, but nothing I couldn't shake off. Until that Friday. I have a very high tolerance to pain, so when it doubled me over and made me want to... well, vomit. I knew I was past the point where I could do anything to diminish the pain.

I left work, met Husband and off we trod to the ER, since the doctor couldn't fit me in.

I explained the pain to the ER doctor. He did X-rays and informed me I had degenerative spinal discs and was experiencing muscle spasms. I informed him that even though that may be true, I was either trying to pass a kidney stone or had ovarian cancer! (Yeah, like I'm some sort of medical expert!) However, he performed no other tests than the X-ray and prescribed to some heavy duty pain meds (the very addictive type) and Valium to help relax the muscles.

You could have folded me up, placed me in a basket and I would have been happy to live there. The pain med did not eliminate the pain, I just didn't care about it and slept through most everything. On Monday I was able to get in to see my regular physician. It turned out to be a ranter nasty kidney infection, so I also had antibiotics to take. Between the physician and myself, I eliminated the pain meds due to my not liking to live in a semi-vegetative state and having to drive 35+ miles one way to work.

On Tuesday I was able to meet with a urologist and was most impressed. He did more UA's, cultures, blood work and is scheduling an MRI to rule out (or in) kidney stones. We will see where this adventure in aging is heading!

I returned to work yesterday and it was difficult. I'm still tired and need to get up and move at regular intervals. I am diligently drinking fluids, especially water and the urologist told me to get OTC cranberry supplements! Who knew?  And the paperwork on my desk abounds! OH MY!

I wanted to mention the music that is now playing on this site: It is "Sing Alleluia" by Roshanna Ariel in her album "Christmas Lullaby's" available as an MP3 on Amazon.

This very song is one that was played and sung for the pilgrims during the Walk to Emmaus. We were led into the darkened chapel lit only by candle light. Those who were singing to us reached out to touch and welcome us, then they slowly and quietly left us in the chapel with our spiritual mentors. I can only liken this event to that of "going home" to heaven. It was one of the most spiritually moving experiences I have ever had the pleasure of participating in.

This is all for the brief update. I would appreciate your prayers for a diagnosis and treatment plan.

I knew I was on the road to recovery when I began nesting, cleaning and purging items for an upcoming yard sale! And that - part of my year's theme of simplifying!

Simply yours,

Tamara

Proverbs 13:7

The Message (MSG)

⁷ A pretentious, showy life is an empty life;
    a plain and simple life is a full life.

Wordless Wednesday

Tragedy, Brokenness and Points of Light

The glass silently slips from my hand and tumbles to the tile floor with the inharmonious cacophony that heralds the assault of a thousand shards of glass… waiting… waiting to pierce and bleed. 

With broom in hand I begin to sweep the shards into a pile in vain efforts to organize chaos. I find shards of brokenness in places you cannot fathom they have traveled and ponder on the law of physics and yes, the gravity of the situation. Yet another broken glass, will this one be missed? 

How many shards of brokenness remain hidden beneath the surface of my being? Precious multi-colored facets each representing a painful period of life that I am yet unwilling to relinquish. Isn’t pain after all, proof that life continues on? 

When tragedy strikes, when trouble comes, when life disappoints we stand at the crossroads between hope and despair, torn and hurting. Local, national and world news all tear at the fiber of our souls and we cry out in unison, “Oh God! How much more brokenness can we take?” 

And God recalls the midday darkness and brokenness of a son impaled upon a cross with a crown of thorns thrust upon his brow, blood trickling like tear drops falling from heaven. 

I wonder about the rescue workers gathered together to accept their assignments in recovery, and my heart is pierced. I am moved to tears thinking where is the Holy One? Where is the One to break the bread, to pour the wine, to anoint with oil and offer the prayers for those who seek in the recovery? 

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” 

–Fred Rogers 

I am making a deliberate decision to focus on the helpers, the rescue workers. They are the points of light that make an intolerable situation hopeful. Every act of compassion pulls us from the darkness that seeks to overcome our souls and pull us towards the Light. In the name of those unknown, but who are the helpers – I light a candle and offer a prayer for their strength, for their needs and for their mental health.

Simply yours,

Tamara

Silent Sunday

The Bread That Was Broken

This past Sunday Husband and I were the “Meet-ers and Greeters” at church. It was also a time of communion – the bread that was broken… the blood that was shed for the forgiveness…

Our Pastor has asked us in the past to help serve the elements, but most generally I respectfully decline. The melody that plays around and around in my mind in a very minor chord is, “I’m not worthy… I’m not worthy…” and in all honestly, I am not. However, something began to change in my heart during Holy Week.

Palm Sunday with the shouts of “Hosanna” and lying down of the palm fronds and coats to honor a king fades into a black, heavy silence and the week progresses. Then comes Thursday, Maundy Thursday and the feast of the Passover and the institution of Communion.

We celebrated the Passover feast in our Fellowship Hall followed by a foot washing. It was moving, so moving I wept. To understand the Passover and the symbolism that leads us to the cross is amazing… is humbling… To wash another’s feet is humbling too.

Then Thursday gives way to Friday, Good Friday. Our Good Friday service was a Tenebrae service. The name Tenebrae is the Latin word for “darkness” or “shadows.” The lights were dimmed and the only light was provided by 16 candles with scripture versed from John 18:1 – John 19:42 broken into to 16 segments. At the end of each scripture reading, a candle was extinguished until we were left in darkness… and silence. It was moving and I wept even more as I reflected upon the sacrifice, and the darkness, and the shadows, and the sin…

But then comes Sunday and the empty tomb! Alleluia!

A week later we are asked to participate in offering the communion elements and we agree. As the congregation approaches, one by one – I break off the bread and say, “the body of Christ, broken for you” and Husband holds the chalice of “wine” into which the bread will be dipped saying, “the blood of Christ, shed for your forgiveness.”

My dear sister in Christ, Sherry, is the pianist and she is playing “Sing Alleluia” softly in the background. When I recognize it, my eyes moisten yet again. It is the song what was sung in candlelight to the pilgrims during the Emmaus weekend.

Some churches have closed communion. Others have open communion. I am not here to debate this issue. I am only here to share with you how the Lord has used this Holy Week to pierce my heart. How I became a willing servant to share the elements with my spiritual family. Even so, Amen!

Simply yours,

Tamara

John 13:12 - 17
When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them. 

Wordless Wednesday

Silent Sunday

Easter People

The Holy Week of Easter follows Lent, an apparent Dark Night of the Soul. Hope springs ever so faithfully from darkness.

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters.

New life gushes forth with screams and shouts of pain and joy from the darkness of the womb.

Newness of life bursts forth from the dark and silent earth.

Buds of growth appear on the barren, winter trees. Outstretched branches appear to be lifted in prayer… and praise… and gratitude.  Sap flows like tears, weeping, weeping, weeping… invigorating them with vernal life for these are tears of joy that fall to the ground in symbolic baptism.

God spoke: “Lights! Come out!
Shine in Heaven’s sky!
Separate Day from Night.
Mark seasons and days and years,
Lights in Heaven’s sky to give light to Earth.”
And there it was.

Morning silence now broken with bird song heralds the dawn as a welcome relief from the long, dark night of the soul.

Birds find nooks and crannies in your house, sparrows and swallows make nests there. They lay their eggs and raise their young, singing their songs in the place where we worship.

There is newness to our worship now, a freshness. The darkness of Good Friday has been pierced by the blinding light of an empty tomb.

“Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song.”
― Pope John Paul II

Even so, Amen!

Simply yours,

Tamara