My Survival

Luke 12:15 "And he said unto them, Take heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth."

SURVIVAL

My survival will be the life of me and the eventual death of me. I strive every waking day to be a vibrant life force in the world but sometimes my immediate surroundings and events throw a pebble into the smooth running cog. One minute I’m a peppy go-getter ready to tackle the world and in the blink of an eye I can turn and wonder what all this struggle is for, what purpose and to what end.  I read something yesterday about this path in life being the path we were destined to be on, good and bad, it is our path laid out for us. I know where the path leads but getting there is no walk in the park, that’s for sure.

I really feel sorry for the folks skipping down the path on their merry way thinking this is all that there is and just keep going until they hit a dead end. They neither care for the in-betweens, are blind to the beginning and end of the line, or they just can’t be bothered, they’re here to live and die. Well, that sounds like a fulfilling life.

Had it not been for this disease, I would still be skipping down the path, if truth be told. I would’ve never had a reason to fight to stay alive but this illness brought me to a juncture in my path and colored it with purpose. I’m not staying alive for anyone around me, that to me is pointless, I’m surviving for the end of the line, where I meet the face of Jesus. All this in between stuff is to show you the strength and determination that resides in people with a purposeful end-of-the-line view. 

My sister had an incident a couple of weeks ago where her outside electric box was shooting sparks. Fearing for the loss of everything she began gathering pictures and stuff that had meaning to her. The fire department came and said the electric company would have to come out and put a new box in. My sister, needless to say, slept in her car with her stuff until the next day when the electric company came. 

Maybe it is just me who is unattached to stuff but I thought if something like that happened to me, I’d grab my writing. I couldn’t think of anything else, nothing came to mind. On Sunday when we went to see his family, I looked around at the hundreds of pictures lining the walls. This family is all about pictures. When we were getting ready to literally walk out the door we were stopped by the words, “Let’s get a picture.” The picture wanted was not of hubby and me but of all of those who were there.

Four different people wanted pictures (I wasn’t one of them) and we had to stand and allow four different cameras to click a shot. Twenty minutes later we were finally heading out the door. I scratch my head thinking what is it? I don’t like my picture being taken for one, and also, there is more to life than pictures. Sure you get a snapshot of a memory but what for? To possess, to brag, boast and share? I don’t get it. You can never relive those moments and the best of the moments are stored in your memory, do people really need the physical picture? Is that what is important in life?

My point being in all of this is that people cling to the darndest of things. The materials we acquire in life are not going with us when we die. I don’t even know if our memories go with us. We move on and all of this is left behind, that is what I work every day for, the end of the line. Not for what is here and now, not for memories and pictures but of the life and the world I will live in when I pass. I guess I’m weird like that. I don’t cling to materials.

Words, not pictures, matter most to me. When I pass, my family will scarcely find pictures of me. They’ll look at the pictures they dig up, weep and cry for what WAS, what they missed, and what they didn’t get to see. The image will not tell my story by any means but if they scan my words, they’ll get the entire picture of who I AM! The images will show I lived, I died, but my words, they will enter your soul and you will FEEL me long after I go! This is one of the very reasons for my need for survival, to leave something worth reading behind. One picture is worth a thousand words but my words will hold millions of pictures.

I pray each and every one of you are touched and blessed by my words! My purpose will be fulfilled. All praise and Glory to God! 

Matt. 6:33 "But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you."

Tis the Season...

Half of my collection

John 4: 23-24 “But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him.

God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”

I haven’t written since Thanksgiving and we’re well on our way to the most blessed season of the Christian life. While Thanksgiving came and went, as much as I felt thankful I was also riddled with grief. 

I’ve heard over and over how grief fluctuates and I’m no stranger to grief but have never grieved in this magnitude before. Yes, I lost two children and grieved immensely but I didn’t let the grief take hold of my life and I made some semblance of a life after their deaths. 

I knew my dad was very sick and I tried to prepare myself for the ending but like a good book, we never want it to end and always hope that there will be a sequel. My only hope of a sequel with my father dying, is knowing that he is basking on the shores of heaven and the sequel will rise when I join him. 

Thanksgiving was more than grief for my father; it was a longing to be home with my mother who is fighting her own battles of moving on in an empty home where the two of them shared their days on a 24/7 basis. She is now lonely holding emptiness in her hand and I long to be there to comfort her in her time of grief.

December 2nd was Christopher’s birthday and I came to the realization that I am the mother of a thirty-three year old son, had he been allowed to stay here on this crazy planet. I find solace in knowing that he didn’t have to be a part of this insanity that we call life and that he has an even bigger role in the place we call Heaven!

We had snow on Thanksgiving and hubby worked out in it for four hours in the wind and temps no higher than 25 degrees that day. He also drove in the mess but he did have the pleasure of being home for turkey dinner and home comfortably on Black Friday. Adam and I on the weekend began the Christmas decorating and as of Monday the place was looking like Christmas had kissed and blessed the scene. 

The holidays are shadowed in a new color for me, and I imagine many others, the color of grief. While lights dazzle, tinsel sparkles, snow glistens the bubble surrounding many homes this season is a somber gray, echoed by candlelight and showers of prayer washing over not only people but also a nation in the midst of sadness.

I know many people put on the show of glitz and glamour, hug tightly to the materialistic glow that surrounds the season, find themselves nestled in parties and booze all the while many are out here suffering through the pains that come along with this season, the season of joy, now the season of grief.

I won’t allow grief to ruin my Christmas; after all it is the season that we celebrate the Lord’s birth. I won’t allow fear of the unknown to ruin my Christmas because that is what the terror seekers want for us, to live in fear and I won’t allow that to happen. I will allow fear to empower me and to continue in this season with joy and hope in my heart. 

The prayerful soul that I am will bless you all as you too meander through this season. Go with peace, share the love and Light that Jesus stood for in His coming and prayerfully walk with God as you embrace the diversity that rest assured will slap us in the face in the coming new year.

God bless you all!

John 1:4-5 “In him was life; and the life was the light of men.

And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.”

What price do YOU pay?

“In the heart of devastation...lies compassion. Human survival feeds off of helping one another. Reach out and have compassion on one another, it will surely get you through the mounds of devastation.” ~ Joni
***

There seems to be devastation everywhere I look these days, Whether it is tsunami’s, earthquakes, floods, tornadoes, you name it, we’re being hit pretty hard. The world, not just the U.S.

Writers have a wellspring of material climbing out of this upheaval, if they can see it, grasp it, then write about it, we’ll have a pretty good amount of stories coming out of the ashes. I know I like to write, but sometimes as the blank page sits there staring at me in the face waiting for me to put something on it, I draw a blank as what to write.

But all I need is a picture, or to read the days news and a story can bubble up from that and grow. Not necessarily a fictional piece, but writing about the reality of today's world really interests me.

I watch as people follow false prophets, are mislead by the almighty dollar, going ga ga over false beauty, attached to their materials. They draw concern at the mundane happenings in their world and give a tiny thought to the world around them. They might give a big thought about the world around them, but are helpless in helping.

What I’m getting at here is that we can NOT put a pricetag on life, in any way shape or form. We are only here because we were breathed into existence and as He knows every strand of hair on your head, it might do you good if you got to know one word out of his mouth.

We are not here for ourselves. We are not here to acquire all the materials in this world that we can get, we’re not a part of the whole and the whole being, me me me!

Many years ago, I gave up everything I owned. (I’m crazy that way) I didn’t have much to begin with but I gave it all up, still holding onto the last remnant of me, was my teddy bear that I had at the age of three. I had a scarf that my grandmother had knitted before she succumbed to cancer. I had a ring my mother and father had given me, when I was thirteen. Those things were the last of my possessions that I held onto thinking that one day, I would see them again.

It was not to be. They were lost in a fit of, I don’t know, I was told a tree fell on top of the shed that they were in, and no one even tried to salvage the final part of me that I didn’t want to let go of. I was devastated.

But soon I realized, this life isn’t about the materials! I hold in my heart the memories. I was trying to hold onto the last bit of my material belongings, knowing that when God said “Give it ALL up for me,” I thought He wouldn’t mind me keeping a few things of my past.

All does not mean, 3/4..all means ALL!!!

So as we muddle through the day, and worry about our hair, our value of life, remember someone has already placed a price tag on His head and He went for the ultimate price! He gave it ALL, not a mere portion.

Write about YOUR all and what price YOU would pay!