[Tip: Read the previous post first.]

April 4, 2021, Resurrection Day

A Day of Remembering

Were You There 

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?

Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?

Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.

Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?

Were you there when he rose up from the grave?

Were you there when he rose up from the grave?

Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.

Were you there when he rose up from the grave?

This old spiritual sends tears down my cheeks every time I hear it. My mind tries to envision the horror of it all. My heart and soul try to comprehend that kind of love-- on Jesus' part as well as God's.

I attempt to enter Mary’s mind as she sees her son mocked and flogged; the various responses of the Roman soldiers and the crowd; and the fears of Pilate, the members of the Sanhedrin, and the temple priests.

If I’d joined the women at the tomb, would I have been frightened or rejoicing when I saw the empty tomb?

Would I have fallen on my knees and cried, “Holy, holy holy! Blessed is He, the Son of the Most High?”

Or would I have run to the village well to tell the other women the truth that He truly was the Messiah? Or would I be able to send the good news via Camel Express to my family and friends?

Or would I sob and ponder these things in my heart? Like the three Mary’s, I think I would stay nearby.

I remain without comprehension.

Then I read this from the Seven Last Words¹ and pause.

“In one very real sense in this one very real moment he was hopeless because there could be no reprieve, no call from the governor, no appeal or last-minute stay of execution. There was no hope to escape death because Jesus had been born for this moment, born to die to redeem us from sin.

“Frederick Buechner wrote, “The miracle was to be that there would be no miracle. He was to be spared nothing.” ...Frederick Buechner Trusting in the unfailing character of God, but will the Father who seems to have forsaken him receive him now?

Yes, “Jesus comes to that final moment. With a loud cry, he shoves against all the despair and darkness of death and shouts, “Catch me Abba” and with trust in his Father’s unfailing character, resting in the Father’s sovereign purpose, Jesus jumps with abandon into the loving hands and arms of his Heavenly Father. “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”

And the good news for us, Jesus didn’t jump alone. No, he took us with him. For all of us who have placed our faith in Christ as our Savior and Lord, the bible says we are in Christ. We are in him, and he is taking us with us. Can you hear him? “Abba, get your hands ready to catch me. Oh, and can you catch my friend as well. I told him today he would be with me in paradise. He’s coming with me.” And the Father says, “Jump, I’ll catch you both.”

My tomb of hope now makes sense. I smile and sing Charles Wesley’s refrain followed by Michael Card's last verse:

“Amazing love, how can it be that thou my God shouldst die for me.”

"Love crucified arose.

The risen One in splender;

Jehovah's soul defender;

Has won the victory.

Love crucified arose;

And the grave became a place of hope,

For the heart that sin and sorrow broke

Is beating once again."

“Amazing love, how can it be that thou my God shouldst die for me.”

Selah, think about this…

Connie

---

[i] https://cagtulsa.com/wp-content/uploads/sermons/2014/04/Seven-Last-Words-Part-7-4-18-14.pdf]

 

April 2, 2021

I love finding and saving quotations written by wise people who can put my feelings and thoughts into words better than I can:

 

    PLEASE BE AWARE ÑÐ:

                I AM TRYING MY HARDEST…

                       ALL THE TIME …

TO PUSH THOROUGH

THE PAIN

THE EXHAUSTION & FATIGUE

THE FOG & DYSCOGNITION

THE INSOMNIA

THE FEAR

THE GUILT

THE JUDGMENT

THE RELENTLESSNESS OF IT ALL…

ALL THE TIME.

                                                                          ~ Unknown

 

As I read this, I feel the unknown writer is speaking from experience. She understands how I feel most of the time. It is a daily journey, the ongoing challenge of having multiple chronic illnesses. Mostly, I balance things well.

I can be grateful for my caregivers that do the necessities so I can be content doing the things that bring me pleasure.

However, some days I must give myself permission to be not okay, to not keep pushing for a solution… a way to cope.

Today is one of those times. Maybe because it is Good Friday, and I am thinking about His suffering. Mine is deserved; His was a choice because He loves me… loves you.

¯ I Should Have Been Crucified ¯

G.J.                                                                          Gordon Jenson      

1. I was guilty with nothing to say, And they were coming to take me away; But then a voice from heaven was heard that said, “Let him go! Take me instead!”

2. Crown of thorns, the spear deep in His side, And the pain should have been mine; The rusty nails were meant for me. O, yes, Christ took them and let me go free!

Refrain

And I should have been crucified! I should have suffered and died! I should have hung on the cross in disgrace, But Jesus, God’s Son, took my place!

 

Saturday, April 3, 2021

A song recorded in the 1970s ends with: “I read the back of the book, and we win…” Today, I also know the ending, which we will celebrate tomorrow. For now, I wait in my tomb of hope and consider these words:

 

 

If Jesus were a man, the cross was murder.

But if Jesus were God, it was an offering.

If Jesus were a man, the cross was martyrdom.

But if He were God, then it was sacrifice.

If Jesus were a man, they took His life.

But if He were God, He laid it down willingly.

If Jesus were a man, we were compelled to admiration.

But if He were God, we are compelled to adoration.

 

If Jesus were a man, we need to stand

and take off our hats to Him.

But if He were God,

we need to bow and give our lives to Him! 

 

and I pray:

“May there be within this day

quiet moments, when I can rest in your presence,

sit for a while at your feet, be still, and simply listen.” [John Birch]

 

Selah~

Connie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Like music? Enjoy and are encouraged by success stories? Then this is for you:

https://persimmontree.org/spring-2021/alina-bloomgarden-jazz-visionary/#comment-268304

Persimmon Tree ~ An Online Magazine of the Arts by Women Over Sixty is issued quarterly. I have enjoyed reading it for years and encourage you to subscribe- it is free- so you'll never miss an issue.

Although an American magazine, it has an international following. Any woman 60 or over can submit writing, poetry, photos, music, or art.

This interview about jazz and the Lincoln Center is fascinating, informative, and inspiring. I recommend taking a few minutes to read it.

Connie

With Child

Take a moment to set aside the traditional pictures of the manger and use your heart to read the following.
 

 

a gasp, a cry

an exhausted mother's sigh

a father's teardrops

a heavenly umbilical cord cut and tied

 

a sweet aroma of fresh hay

a tiny gurgle as rosebud lips find milk

a whispered prayer

a naming as God commanded

 

a squeak of rafters as birds and mice gather

a gentle breeze to fan the fire

a clip and clop of a donkey's feet

a quiet baa-aa and a gentle moo

 

a ray of starlight

a flutter of angel wings

a silence

a moment realizing God's sacrifice- His only Son

 

a yip of a sheepdog on the hillside

an owl's hoot as he hunts

a rowdy laugh from the inn

a braying camel on the dusty road

 

a mother and babe sleep

a father watches

an angel guards

a world waits

 

                               ~ Constance Gilbert

 

 

From my friend Joseph Mazzella:

T'was the day after Christmas 33 years ago. I was newly married and still in college. Only 10 days earlier my wife had gone into labor with our first child. It was a scary delivery that ended in an emergency C-section. We were so grateful to have Joseph John Mazzella II also known as JJ sleeping peacefully in the cradle next to our bed. The day before we had been on the road showing off our little bundle of joy to all of the grandparents and great-grandparents. It had been a busy Christmas and hard on my wife who was still recovering from her surgery. Now we were back in our tiny trailer trying to get a few extra winks of sleep before starting the day. Just then I heard JJ stirring in his cradle. I leaned over and picked him up before he started to cry and then carefully crept out into the living room so my wife could keep sleeping. I picked up a bottle and sat in our rocking chair with JJ in my arms I rocked quietly and fed him in the semi-dark room while he looked up at me with his loving, innocent eyes. I spoke softly to him but also felt a little fear as I watched him. How was I going to take care of him? I was still in school and had no idea what the future held in store for us. I rocked and worried and worried and rocked. After a few minutes I saw the sun slowly rising in the sky outside my window. The bright light was shining down from the heavens making the freshly fallen snow shine with a beauty that touched my soul. As I watched it my fear fled and I felt such a sense of peace, harmony, love, and joy. The Christmas spirit had snuck into my heart when I wasn’t looking and I smiled. I knew then that whatever the future held, it would be alright as long as I kept love in my heart. Christmas is such a blessed time. It is a time of Love. A Holy Child’s Love. A Heavenly Father’s Love. A Love that unites us all. A Love that forever conquers fear. Welcome that Love into your heart. Live it in your life. Make a home for it in your soul. Share it with everyone not only on Christmas day but every day. Embrace the blessing of Christmas by making Christmas a way of life.

 

STOP!!!

Most of us have heard this phrase, but you may not know that it came from a musical that opened in England in 1961 and on Broadway in 1962. Later it became a movie (1966) and had a Broadway revival in 1978.

Want more information? See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stop_the_World_%E2%80%93_I_Want_to_Get_Off.

Lately, that phrase has been screaming throughout my mind over and over. I want to yell at everybody to

  Just Stop it!!!

"...during this difficult time, this challenging time, this trying time..." is in almost every e-mail crossing my computer. I've been coping just fine until you'all keep reminding me it's awful

Here, let me help you. Use up all the synonyms below and be done with it. It is what it is; so stop the pity parties, and the woe is me outlook. 

I'm looking for positive folks to be hearing from.They're out there. 

One place that made me smile yesterday- and we all still need smiles, right? I went to Pinterest and looked at all the creative ideas for getting our children back to school: book boats, wings, special hats, hula hoop spaces, special innovative markings for social distancing and paw stations with sanitizers. 

We need to help our schools and places of employment do things in new ways; not give into the doom and gloom of "we can't-s." 

We need to admit that we've done things wrong... allowed them to be our normal. For example, most schools have been sharing supplies like crayons and pencils vs each child having their own. Sharing facial tissue? In business we went from offices to cubbies and open workspaces. Let it siffice that there are alternative ways of doing things. 

Getting off this planet isn't the answer, but I'd like to see more positive approaches and sharing of ideas. Other countries have been doing this longer than the USA. What works is a better question. And how can I adapt the good ideas to fit my/our situation.

Getting off my soapbox for now...

Connie

Need synonyms for hard to handle? Here's a list of similar words from our thesaurus that you can use instead. Soft, light, unruly, and difficult to set into a style flyaway   awkward   difficult   uncontrollable   unmanageable   unruly stubborn unreasonable   obstinate   disobliging   trying   perverse unaccommodating   intractable   obstructive   unpredictable   prickly troublesome   refractory   irritable   thrawn   touchy   tiresome   contrary obdurate   froward   chippy   stroppy   bloody-minded   balky

Colors

My memory of art college was spending every Saturday buying what my son needed for his next week’s projects.
 “More colored pencils?” I asked; “You have at least a hundred by now.”
 “But I don’t have these,” he replied.
“Haven’t you learned to blend colors yet?” I asked… as I paid.

 Months later while we were traveling to Grand Rapids to spend a relaxing weekend, my son asked me to count the number of greens I saw. It was lovely spring day, my favorite season; and I wasn’t on-call for two whole days. So I smiled and began counting, but within a few minutes I lost track of whether that was a new green or not. The Creator of the Universe had painted the waking of nature with myriads of greens in all its shades, tints, and hues.

“The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts;” wrote Marcus Aurelius.

And this mother told her son, “You can have as many colored pencils as you’d like.”

Today, my son is a successful graphic designer and I am a colorist a.k.a., a color-er. I started with a set of colored pencils and an adult coloring book to pass the time and to keep from being bored.

 Soon I added gel pens…








                                                     then a cart to hold all of them.

 I never seem to have just the right shade. Sound familiar?

I love the flow of ink on the paper and seeing the combination of multiple shades of a color group form a flower. I’ve graduated from a 12 per box to 120 and still want more choices.

 The transition from threads and yarns to ink actually came first. The colors I use for my needlework add dimension and texture. My grandson called it threading (drawing with thread) when he was a toddler. 

Coloring does pass the time for this homebound woman. As a bonus, I have discovered bright colors becoming bridges to happy memories and problem-solving becomes easier while coloring. Best of all, coloring connects me to the author of all colors.

 I am thankful we earthlings were given eyes with “some of the most complex structures in all of nature. The human eye can take in a million simultaneous impressions and can tell the difference between eight million different colours.” (@http://www.eyesite.co.uk/news/humans-vs-animals-who-has-better-vision/)

 Jürgen Moltmann wrote, “Our disappointments, our loneliness and our defeats do not separate us from him (God); they draw us more deeply into communion with him.”It is when I’m coloring that I understand that the best.

 And it is through the eyes of others I see what my walls hide from me: [As I run each day] “ I learn to notice perfect strangers who go out of their way to share a smile; I pay attention to dogs grinning as they walk their owners; and my eyes are drawn, again and again, to nature waking up.” ~ Ryan J. Pemberton

A Gift of JOY

Like most of us, writer Mary DeMuth has struggled through hard times. She has a heart for hurting women and recognizes the stresses caused by COVID-19. While struggling through the hurts of a damaged relationship she did what she does best:... putting her thoughts into words.

"Life right now is full of grief, confusion, and angst. In order to process all that, you need to know what the Bible says about difficult times and how to navigate through them."

Mary writes through the labor pains of her hurtful emotions. While we struggle to express these feelings, she finds the right words. The outpouring of these words opens the doors of healing and gives birth to her books. Until we can communicate our pain, we cannot problem-solve... we cannot heal and restore the joy to our lives.

Whether you are struggling with the life changes brought about by the coronavirus, a damaged relationship, or other issues, I recommend this little 25-page ebook. It's available free at:

http://marydemuth.ck.page/e7f47f3755

Doing well now? Copy and save it for another time. Share it with someone who needs to mend and heal a broken spirit.

I have followed Mary since she was writing her first book* as a sexual abuse survivor. As a writer, I understand how difficult it is to re-open the pain allowing the reader to recognize you've truly been in her shoes. No matter how battered her slippers may be, they can become the ruby red shoes that takes her home to the Creator and Lover of her Soul. Mary shows us the way, the how, and Who restores true joy.

* Author of 40 books currently.

A Unique Mother's Day

My family brought Chinese for supper. Because visitors are still restricted at the senior complex where I live, they ate outside by my livingroom window. While I enjoyed their company from inside along with my favorite cashew chicken.
The oldest grandchild was missing. "How long has he been working at Subway," I asked. His mother looked at her watch and answered, "5 hours."
Our time together was shorter than usual, but larger in laughs. Meal over... masks on... we formed a circle with arms outstretched for a group hug. Who says social distancing can't include time together!
Never had a Mother's Day like this one and doubt that it will occur again, but it was SPECIAL.

~ ~ ~ 

My Monday chuckle from my friend in the WV mountains, Joseph J. Mazzella:

 

 It had been raining on and off for days.  The gray, overcast clouds felt more like the gloom of

 Winter than the joy of Spring.  The ground was saturated from the downpours.  The grass in my

 backyard was swampy and large patches of mud had grown in the well trafficked areas where I

 walked my dogs.  But on this morning I suddenly saw a break in the clouds.  The beautiful, rising

 sun was sliding out from behind them and playing a delightful game of peek-a-boo with the

 earth.  I longed to feel its warmth on my face again so I slipped on my shoes and headed outside. 

 

Just as I got there the sun slid behind another cloud.  I frowned when I saw it but noticed that a

few sunbeams were still shining through on the grass down the hill from me.  I started to run

towards them before they disappeared.  That is when it happened.

 

Suddenly, I felt my feet go out from under me as I slipped on a muddy patch.  Down I went

into the brown slop.  My jeans were filthy.  My shirt was stained.  My hands were covered with

the goo. “Ugh!”, I said.  I wiped my hands in the grass and shook my head.  Just at the moment,

however, the sun broke through again.  I lay in the mud and looked up at its light.  I smiled when

I saw it shining on a determined little dandelion growing in the middle of the mud.  Then I

laughed and felt the light coming on within me too.  It was certainly worth another shower and an

extra load of laundry to see this sight.

 

Sometimes we need to slip in the mud in order to see the flowers.  Sometimes we need to be

flat on our backs in order to look up to Heaven.  In this life God gives us both the sunshine and

the rain. It is up to us, though, to bloom through the mud and to shine through the clouds.  May

your love always shine bright and may the flower of your life become a meadow.