Category Archives: Jesus

Christmas, to a Follower of Jesus …

is, second only to Good Friday and Easter, the singularly most important religious holiday that is celebrated.  It is true that Christmas, to the secular world, has been commercialized with thoughts of Santa, spending money and giving gifts that may or may not have any bearing on the holiday itself.  It has become a day about getting, getting more and then being disappointed in not getting enough.  But to those of who hold Christmas in our heart for what it truly means, it isn’t about getting at all, but giving.  It is the celebration of the Virgin birth of the Christ child.  Now, it is no surprise that there will be many who will scoff at this.  That is not unexpected or taken in offense.  I know, in my heart and soul, what I know in my heart and soul.  It brings me great pleasure to honor Jesus at the celebration of His birth.  To revere  Him for the Savior that I personally know Him to be.

It is a beautiful image in my mind to think of a sweet little baby, wrapped in swaddling clothing, lying in a manger that is normally used to feed farm animals.  As it has been taught to me by wise teacher, swaddling clothes were usually reserved for females in order to depict the suffering that they would endure through childbirth.  To find a male child wrapped in swaddling clothing was simply not done.  But Jesus, more than any woman bearing a child, would suffer.  And not only would He suffer, He would do it willingly.

I can think of none of the children in my life, not my daughter nor my nieces, that I would sacrifice for anyone, much less a sinner, a murderer, child molester, thief.  Not a chance.  I would sacrifice myself before I would offer up any of those little ones dear to me; and only then as a trade.  But willingly?  I cannot fathom.  Nor can I fathom knowing the day and the hour that I would have to turn my back on any one of them, leaving them to fend for themselves while I remove myself from from their suffering because that was the only way to obtain the redemption that their death would bring.   It would be hard enough losing a child unexpectedly, but to know, day after day, that the time was drawing near.  I cannot fathom.  Were it up to me, it is quite obvious that mankind would be doomed to die in their sins for at the last moment, I would balk.  I am, after all, only human.

I find it, therefore, an honor and privilege to revere the Christ Child and the Father who was willing to sacrifice Him for my sins.  I’ve heard it said that God is callous and cruel, but what an enormous amount of love it would take for mankind in order to make Him turn His back on the Son He loved just so that we might be redeemed.  Nothing callous about that.  It is, without doubt, love in its purest form and I can only hope that, as I go along this life I’ve been given, I can give as unselfishly as my Father and my Savior.

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Luke 2:1-7

2 And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.

(And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.)

And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.

And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:)

To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.

And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered

.And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

Sleepless nights …

were made for blogging.  There is just something about being wide awake in the middle of the night that makes me want to write; makes me want to share things that mayhaps I wouldn’t share on a normal day.  I imagine many bloggers have an agenda that they follow religiously.  I have no agenda.  The filter between my brain and mouth fails with distressing regularity and ergo, the often off the wall, “what in the world was she thinking” blog posts become reality.  This night is no different from my life on a daily basis, a life that is filled with inconsistencies, confusions and ethereally beautiful moments.  Therein lies the problem; the differences are  not easily discerned until it is too late to turn back..

I have so many thoughts going through my mind right now that focusing on simply one is nearly impossible.  I am trying ardently to deal with, what I truly believe to be the answer to a prayer that I have been praying about.  The answer was not what I wanted to hear and not the outcome I had hoped for.  Nonetheless, I did ask for an answer and was given one.  So there you have it.  Question asked, answer given.  Whether or not I am pleased with the answer is irrelevant because it is not my will I am working to achieve, but my Father God’s.  He sees the big picture, the whole thing, all of the edges and I am left in the moment I am in at the  particular moment I am in.

That’s the thing about praying.  I ask for guidance and answers and, while I should be leaping with joy when I receive an answer from God, I find that sometimes, despite my best efforts, I question Him.  In this particular instance, I realize that I have been through a very similar scenario four times at this point and all four times, the outcome has been the same.  I am disturbed by this.  Not by God’s infinite wisdom, but that I am so predictable that I would take the same path, though with different beginnings, that lead to the exact same outcome.  One that offers no closure, but simply an abrupt end to what was thought to be a wonderful thing.

Life is confusing at times.  Though it has moments that are so beautiful, it hurts my  heart to look at them, I find that, for the most part, I am looking for answers to questions that have no answers.  It seems that the questions, more often than not, are riddles and I have never been good at riddles.  I threaten, in my  mind, to simply write people off and never try to correspond with them again, and then my conscious click in. There are times when I wish I didn’t have a conscience and could think and do whatever I wanted to whomever I wanted to do it to and not have a moment of guilt over it.  But were I to go there, then Satan would be as happy as a witch in a broom factory.

Throughout my life, I can think of four distinct relationships that have ended without closure.  Without reason or explanation.   Four distinct experiences that have, for reasons unknown, ended the same way.  I am certain that there is a lesson to be learned here, but obviously, I have not yet learned it.  I trust too much, share too much, give too much and then wonder why I am left standing, empty handed and alone, at the end of the day.  One would think that after so many experiences that end the same, there would be a red flag; a warning sign or some other type of blinking light that says “you don’t want to go there again”.  But there isn’t.

I am too trusting, too gullible, to easily manipulated.  I know this, but it doesn’t seem to help me learn from past experiences.  It is difficult, though, when each experience starts differently.  It is impossible to know, at the beginning, how it will end.  It doesn’t make being too trusting, too gullible and too easily manipulated any easier to swallow at the end of the day.  It leads to disappointment, as much in the deceiver as  in myself and adds layers to the wall that has to be rebuilt in order to preserve my sanity.

Friends come and go.  Some are much better at deceiving than others and, as I said earlier, being a gullible sort, I fall for the “we have so much in common”, “we are cut from the same cloth”, “I feel like I’ve known you forever” line.   I think that, in the future, I will be oblivious to this line of thinking.  I don’t like being used and am saddened that I have, once again, been simply a sounding board and ego booster that, once the course has been run, am nothing more than a  blast of wind on a summer day.

I wish I had the answers.  I wish I had the knowledge that is not revealed to me.  I live my life walking on faith and sometimes, the faith is misguided.  That is no-one’s fault but my own.  I am gullible and I do have a seeking heart.  That makes me an easy mark for those who’s only agenda is lifting themselves to a higher level.  I don’t hold it against them as they are doing what they do.  I hold it against myself for enabling them and allowing my thoughts and feelings to feed the fire and come to the realization that they thrive on this enabling and then forget me completely.

It is an humbling experience to learn that, even though I should know better, I still fall into the same traps of wanting to be a part of something important, something beautiful, something exceptional only to realize that I was only a stepping stone.

I want to be angry, but that is not in my nature.  I will cry and I will berate myself for being a fool, but know that, most likely, I will repeat the same cycle over and over again.  The complexity of my heart and mind is, in reality, simply too much for most people to comprehend and so they just pretend that I never existed.

I don’t mind it, overmuch, but with each transparency, I learn that I will likely never learn.  Such is the nature of my life.  But I’m ok with that.  I figure if I walk through a door with my eyes wide open then any surprises that come up are on me for, when I walked thorough the door, I did it willingly.  In my mind, I go to places unknown, with no stresses  or pain; no insecurities or moments of foolishness, but only the beauty of God’s Amazing Grace.  I am blessed even when I feel  more like I’m being punished.  No one can ever punish me as much as I punish myself and as long as I take it, it will continue.  Praying for the strength to break the cycle, even when it hurts.  I am me.  I am Gina.  I am not a doormat.  I will work each day to remind myself of these basic facts.

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Standing still as shattered pieces fall …

and cut me over and over is something that I know intimately, but I realized today that though I know it, I only know a little piece of it.  I have tried to imagine, even while I know I cannot fathom such an atrocity;  losing a child.  Then to realize that not only have I lost my child, but that nineteen other children were lost at the same time is immeasurable.  I find that each time I think of such a horror, I burst out in tears for those who are facing that situation even now.  Knowing that the world is mourning my loss would be of little or no consolation when faced with an empty bed in an empty room in an empty house in a now empty life.  Knowing that there were nineteen different families who found themselves in the situation I was in would bring no comfort, only more bafflement, anger and grief.  I think I would find it hard not to be bitter even as I was grateful, that there are parents everywhere holding their children safe this night.  There are no words, no gestures, no deeds of goodwill that can even begin to bring comfort after such a senseless and brutal death of a child.  No human words or gestures, anyway.    Losing a child is losing a child, be it from sickness after months of hope and prayers or because that child is taken by the hands of a madman, a stranger, who decided to gun them down in cold blood for sins that the children had not committed. The little children are innocents and because of it, the battle becomes not one against nature or sickness, but of one against evil.  It doesn’t make the loss any less painful, but it does make it different.

I have spent the better part of the evening trying to wrap my mind around what a relatively small, close-knit community must be feeling at this moment.  I have not succeeded.  Each time I picture in my mind’s eye the tiny bodies lying shot to death, I have to remind myself that I live in a country where young children are not gunned down as they attend kindergarten class.  I tell myself that surely, there has been some mistake and that twenty children were not killed for a reason known only to a madman.  I tell myself that it couldn’t possibly happen where I live and then immediately seek out my nieces and hug them so hard that they complain about it.  I find that I cannot let them go.  They squirm and complain, but letting them out my arms before I have breathed in the scent of them, touched their sweet little lips to mine and stroked their downy hair is not an option, not for a while, not until I am convinced that they are real and safe and accounted for.  Something that twenty families in a small town in Connecticut will never have the opportunity to do again.  The sorrow and pain that I feel is no more than a drop of rain in a writhing ocean compared to theirs and that in itself makes me cry even harder.  I want to help.  I want to console.  I want to encourage.  I want to bring comfort.  But it is not in my power.

I cannot comfort them with words or gestures.  Their lives have been irrevocably changed for the worse.  What likely started as a normal day for these families ended in bone-crushing sorrow and depths of despair that cannot be described within the confines of this blog.  The cries and screams of mothers and fathers will echo down every valley and soar above the highest mountains for days and weeks and years to come.  Such sorrow cannot be contained and even though I did not hear them with my ears, my heart breaks at the sound I know is there and I find myself sobbing, yet again, for what cannot be changed.

I will do the only thing I know to do for them and that is to pray for comfort in a time of sorrow so black and so deep, an abyss that seems to have no way out.  Time, it is said, is a great healer, and from personal experience, I know that to be true … but time has never had to heal me from the loss of a child and I find that while I have compassion and a deep, deep sorrow for the loss, I cannot even begin to comprehend it.

Lifting up, in the name of Jesus, those who will be unable to stand for a long time is the only recourse I have.  But stand they will and fight they will and remember they will.  The road will be difficult and strewn with landmines and  obstacles that will take them backwards more than forwards; at least for  a time.  They will never get over it, may not get past it, but hopefully, can one day, come to terms with it enough to get out of bed in the morning.

This night, as the nation and the world mourns the needless loss of little children, may we join together and pray collectively so that a veil of protection can be woven around the grieving families.  Let us tear our clothing and throw ourselves to the ground to wail for that which threatens to suffocate us.  They have suffered enough for a lifetime.  Let us pray that that they can face it tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that.

The little children are in the hands of God, but the hands of their parents are empty and their hearts are shattered.  Join me as I pray that they will be able to find some measure of comfort in some aspect of this tragedy and that in time, the memories that hurt them so deeply now will somehow bring them the comfort they seek.  I don’t know what else to do.

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Romans 12:21 Be not overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

If you’re too sick to go to the doctor …

you probably have the flu.  It is that time of year.  Actually, it’s a little early, meaning that the season will be in full swing by the time everyone starts traveling to visit with family and friends during Christmas.  There will be many who will have a fever and feel as though they have been beaten nearly to death with a hammer, but will travel anyway because, hey, Great Aunt Ethel will be disappointed if she doesn’t get the pair of socks they spent two minutes picking out.  They will hack and cough, sneeze and sniffle, wipe their eyes and forget, at times, to cover their mouth, touch everything and leave their germs behind for dozens of others; kind of like paying it forward, but in a bad way.  Unless they are walking around in a bubble, they are going to give it to many unsuspecting people, who will in turn, give it to many other unsuspecting people.

Imagine yourself on a plane, closed in with a few hundred others, a third of whom may have or have been exposed to, the flu.  Breathing the air, touching the surfaces.  There isn’t enough soap or hand sanitizer in the world to protect you.  Now imagine yourself on the subway platform with all the same scenes.  Now imagine yourself on the train, or at the rest area, or in a restaurant, or at the mall … I could go on for pages, but first, multiply the  above by a hundred thousand or so.  If you or someone you know hasn’t yet tested positive, just give it a little more time.

The flu virus can live outside the body anywhere from a few seconds to 48 hours and on your hands for about an hour.  The vaccinated have a better chance of avoiding the flu than the un-vaccinated, but there are no certainties either way.  It is important to wash your hands or use sanitizer between every contact with every surface.  Will it make you feel like the skin on your hands is going to fall of?  Of course.  What can you do about it? Use lotion.  That will make  you even more susceptible, but at least your nails will look good.

Jesus is the reason for the season, but flu is the reason for the sneezin’.  Try to stay well everyone …

Being a greeting card designer …

was never  in my plans; it wasn’t even in the back of my mind.  A thought not yet thought, a dream not yet dreampt.  It never really occurred to me that I could design greeting cards until one day, four years ago, when I was looking for a place to make a birthday card for my friend Len.  I wanted to use a photograph of our Great Pyrenees dogs to upload to a card in order to wish a happy birthday to my dog-loving friend.  I had looked up such sites before, but could find none that would allow me to upload my own photographs onto the card.  And then, out of the blue (always a sure sign that a blessing is in the midst), I found Greeting Card Universe.  It was exactly what I had been looking for and the site said that I could upload my photographs and make cards out of them and actually make money off of them.   I had an overwhelming urge to do just that, caring about the photography and not really expecting to make any money from what came out my heart and head.  The site said that it could take several months to sell a card and it could be years before any revenue was made.

My husband, who was still living at the time, encouraged me to make more.  To put the words in my heart with the photographs that I had been given.  I had to come up with a name for the store and because I give God all the glory for what I see through the lens of my camera, Through the Eyes of the Spirit just popped into my mind.  Jim was one of my biggest fans and a sounding board for new ideas and thoughts.  He was brutally honest and I appreciated that, as honesty is very important to me.  I began to put words to the photographs I had taken and created cards that I could scarcely imagine that anyone would want. I was at a crossroads.  A place where I had two choices; share what I had been given or cowardly hide it away because I couldn’t fathom that anyone would want anything that I had created.

So I did it. I took the leap of faith and uploaded a card with my own photograph and my own verse and prepared to wait for months or even years for anyone to take an interest.  Eleven days later, I sold my first greeting card.  The feeling was one of jubilation, honor,  humbleness and, quite honestly, disbelief.  I simply could not believe that there were people who had an interest in the words I had to say, words that were given to me, those not my own, but placed in my heart by a faithful God.

I immediately considered the first sale a fluke and then more came.  And more after that.  It seemed that I had a knack for coming up with the words that people wanted to say, but didn’t quite know how.  I made card after card, the verses rolling off my tongue as though they were native to me.  What inspiration and joy I had from each one and every time I had a sale, I was thankful and gave thanks to the Lord who had given such a wonderful thing to me.  It became a ministry.  One of encouragement to the downtrodden and suffering.  It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.  Many times I cried over the verses for they were born of life experiences and hardships that I would never have dreamed could ever be anything more than a burden.

It has been four years since I joined the world of greeting card design and more than 20,000 cards have sold.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Twenty thousand.  I am stunned.  I continue to be stunned.  And with each sale, whether it be for one card or 500 cards, I feel the same as I did when the very first one sold.  The thrill and exhilaration has not faded.  Each time I get a notification, I first thank God, for it is all for His glory.  My name will fade from the mind only moments after hearing it, but His name will still be on the lips of His people until the end of time.  I am  honored that He has chosen me to be a part of His ministry through something that I love as much as my life itself.

In my heart of hearts, I am a photographer.  I see things differently and that, in itself, is a blessing.  I would love to be able to thank every single person, from all fifty states and thirty different countries for their support.  It isn’t possible.  I  don’t know who buys my cards.  All I am privy to is the location from which the card was purchased, but that doesn’t impede my desire to pray when I sell a card for “loss of mother” or “college graduate” or “thank you from bride to father”.  I am grateful for each one and feel a sense of gratitude and humbleness that out of  hundreds of thousand of cards, someone picked mine.

I don’t take this blessing lightly as it has had a profound influence on my life.  And I am, as I said, very grateful.  I am blessed beyond what I have the words to say and at times when I am feeling low, He lifts me by using the talents and gifts He gave to me to bring joy that would otherwise be absent.  I am in love with Jesus and take great pleasure in knowing that He loves me more than I can ever love Him.  Although life has a way of kicking me down from time to time, it cannot compete with what lives inside of me.  Life will go on whether I am a part of it or not, but how wonderful to know, that through the gifts given to me, that I am able to bring joy and encouragement to others.  That, without doubt or reservation, makes my life worth living and for that, I am grateful beyond words that I can say.

So again I say, to everyone who has ever purchased a card from Through the Eyes of the Spirit, I hope you got even a tenth of the joy from receiving the card as I got from creating it.

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Isiah 41:10 ~ So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Birthdays …

the good, the bad and the indifferent.  Birthdays have always been a very cool thing to me, whether it is mine or someone else’s, I just feel happy.  Most of the time.  This year, my birthday came and went. There was cake and ice-cream, family, friends, co-workers; all the usual birthday suspects.  It was different, though.  This month started out with a fairly serious facial injury and mid-way through, adding insult (and injury) to injury, I fairly seriously injured my shoulder and cracked a couple of ribs.   Now it is no secret to the people who know me well that my mind, in the best of times, is a scary place to be.  During the worst of times, I walk around with a bio-hazard sign flashing above my head.

But, as I so often do, digress.  I can chalk part of it up to the end of October, that which I both long for and dread.  I have a love/hate relationship with that month and it nearly always makes me high.  November, however, is a month of coming to terms with the oncoming winter, saying goodbye to the leaves, hello to the bare sentries of winter and getting ready to be cold more often than not.  And my birthday is this month and that always makes me feel extremely special.  That was not to be this year.  With each new event, there were melancholic thoughts of days past, days that I didn’t care that much for when they were the present.  I thought much of my late husband and felt guilty, at times, that I was ready to let him be at peace and begin the process of getting on with my solitary (as that is how I like it) life.

I don’t discount the many blessings of the last year.  That would be wrong on so many levels.  The blessings have been numerous and I am thankful for each one.  Blessings sometimes get lost in the fray of life, though. I have family suffering from the loss of a loved one, dear friends that I am unable to account for and dealing with turning 45.  Any of these would be like turning a page during normal times, but when they all happen at once, well, it weighs on the mind.

Did it make my birthday less happy?  Yes.  Life has a way of doing what it wants.  That doesn’t mean that I can’t be happy today, or tomorrow or the next day.  It doesn’t mean that I am beyond hope.  Unhappiness is a part of living and if there is anyone who has lived their entire life saying they have never experienced it, then you have seen, up close and personal, a liar.

November is nearly over and the round of Christmas parties, Band concerts, Christmas plays and a thousand other things that I will be trying hard to find a place to fit will present themselves, (at the last minute, always at the last minute), and at the same time, working diligently to keep my sanity (a fine line at best).  While it is true that I’m closer to fifty than I was only a couple of days ago, that is the furthest thing on my mind.  I am happier now than I have ever been.  Free, so to speak, with a daughter in college and myself on my own.  But there are times, as everyone knows, when it would be nice just to have someone put their arms around me, saying nothing as I cry until the tears were gone.  There is nothing wrong with that.  It is not a sign of weakness, but proof of humanness; it is life.  It can be, at times discouraging, but in that moment that we find ourselves, unless we make it our mission, will not last forever.  I am already looking forward to doing it better and with more enthusiasm in the next year; whatever “it” may be.  I am a survivor and no matter what comes at me, I can depend on the Jesus to which I cling to lift me when my wings are too broken to fly on my own.  I am truly, humbly, honorable and indescribably blessed and that, I don’t want to forget.

Looking at the here and now can sometimes be overwhelming … but the here and now will be the there and then tomorrow, so don’t let it break you.  Let it get you down, cry when you need to, throw things if it suits you (my favorite thing to do in a crisis), but at the end of the day, realize that our life, our thoughts, our fears are part of what makes us who we are and without them, we wouldn’t really be anyone in particular, but like everyone else.  I like being different, even when it’s painful.  Though I have many regrets, there isn’t anything I would change because if I were to change them, my ability to relate and empathize would become obsolete.  An easy life is no challenge, but rising above the odds and making the best of the worst situations takes us to a whole new level.  It is my goal to serve my Lord and be the best that I can be for Him.   Be encouraged, my friends, for nothing lasts forever.  Nothing.

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Psalms 28:7 ~ The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart is trusted in Him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will praise him.

It’s that time of year …

when folks start taking stock of their lives and thinking about the things they are thankful for.  There isn’t enough room on this blog to even begin to list all that I am thankful for, but find that I want, more than anything, to list at least a few.  There are, of course, the obvious; food, clothing, shelter, job, family – all the basics covered in one sentence, but what about the other entities and experiences?  The bounties that I sometimes forget to mention because I’m too busy or preoccupied to remember to be thankful for;  like music, silence, blue skies, white clouds, whispering oceans, warm sunshine, rustling leaves, winding mountain roads, bare trees, songs to sing, long, engaging, thought-provoking conversations, dancing to rhythms in my head and a myriad of other blessings that, for the moment, escape my memory.

As I write this, my mind wanders to some of the places I’ve been over the past year.  Not just physically, such as my favored falls or the rocks on top of the mountain, but where I have been spiritually, through the infinite grace and bountiful blessings of my Father God; the ministry He has given me through greeting cards and the ability to string words together and the counsel I have been able to share because of the trials and joys I have experienced.  I have met many new people, seen many new faces and heard much new music that has left me richer and more empowered than I was before.  While that is often the way it is with time and change, there are moments, spaces of time that span a few weeks to a few months that have changed my life, in one way or another, irrevocably.

Not all of the experiences have  been good ones, but I am thankful for them anyway as the lessons I learned from them were invaluable.  At the time, I suppose some of them seemed more like punishment than teaching, but as time passed and wisdom took the place of uncertainty, the evidence of growth was prominent.  The beauty of wisdom and strength as they become more clear in my mind and heart help me to understand that each experience, good or bad, is not coincidental, but a piece in a puzzle that never seems to be fully completed.  I find that stimulating conversation with a like mind is just as compelling to me as sitting alone finding notes on my keyboard as I work to learn to play the music that forms the words that, though I often cannot voice, I cherish nonetheless.

I have reconnected with some old friends, those that I had, for one reason or another, lost touch with.  It’s funny, somehow, that as an adult, the friendships that were forgotten or simply ignored over the years have rekindled and have more depth and meaning than I would have ever found in my youth.  I have found new friends, some that have moved me beyond any words that I could ever find the ability to express.  A connection that is not of the world that I live and work in every day, but is of something else altogether.  A pairing of minds, thoughts and ideas that would, if not for divine intervention, have been missed altogether.

It isn’t easy being different in an unusual sort of way from nearly everyone else I know and rekindling the connections to the artists and musicians from my past has encouraged me and made me feel a part of something that I have missed for way too long.  In the midst of what was already a part of me are the new friendships, those that fell, practically from the sky;  new friends on the surface, but in my heart and soul, are as old as time itself.  Finding familiarity in the unknown is exciting and exhilarating; not to mention a balm to the spirit.

My family has survived one attack after another this year and each one has, in its own way, brought us closer together, making us realize how important each of our unique qualities are in forging the dynamics of lasting bonds that cannot be broken.  As always, during this time of celebration and family get-togethers, the loved ones who have passed from this world are brought to the front of my mind and their wisdom and guidance, love and security, words and ideas fill me up.  It isn’t with sadness that I think of them, but of longing that I can’t sit down with them for a bit and ask the questions that I wish I had asked while they were living.  It never occurred to me, not in a realistic kind of way, that there wouldn’t be time to ask, to know and to find.  Along the same lines, I think of the questions and thoughts I share with my friends, the ones who seem to understand the very core of my being without explanation.  There is more power in that than could ever be described in words.

Yes, on this eve of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for many things, but most of all, I am thankful that I am child of God and that He loves me enough to give me everything I need and much of what I want simply because He loves me.  Yes, I am thankful, not just today, but everyday, for this beautiful life that I have been given and the growing realization that it is a privilege to be a part of a world that keeps on turning day after day after day.

To all my friends and all my family I wish you a very happy and blessed Thanksgiving.  I am blessed beyond measure and what you add to my life is a very big part of that blessing.  My wish is for your lives to be filled with awe, wonder, happiness and joy.  Yes, my blessings are too numerous to count, and for each one, I am thankful.

“Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so; little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong”

If you are on welfare …

you are worthless.  Worthless.  How sad is it that, in a country where the poverty level is well above what it should be and people work as hard as they can but can’t feed their family are considered outcasts.  The very lowest of the low, the sewer of humanity.  These kinds of judgements can only come from those who have never found themselves in a place that leaves them with no choice but to depend on someone to help them.  I do not even try to speak for everyone who has found themselves in the welfare system, only myself, and I find it to be very hurtful to know that instead of prayers for improvement, I found only shame and humiliation.  There is nothing worse than being in the grocery line and having to present the cashier with food stamps.  The look is always the same.  A frowning look that says I am mooching off of everyone else who works for a living.  Well, listen up, folks.  I was working for a living, but was somehow unable to provide food for my daughter.  I could have taken up a life of crime or prostitution, but it seemed to be more in line with my beliefs to call on help from others.  I never once presented the food stamps at any store when the cashier didn’t find some reason to make it public that I was a loser, a freeloader and someone to be chastised to need help.

It shouldn’t be shameful to need help and it should not cause humiliation to ask for it.  As with any other system in the world, there will be people who abuse it, but in the grand scheme of things, I like to think that folks are doing the best they can.  Just because you haven’t found yourself out of work, widowed or devastated by an accident or injury does not give you the right to be judge an jury.  Not all things fit into a single, four-sided box.  It is not possible to know what one person experiences unless you take the time to ask, or better yet, walk a ways with them to see what they experience in a single day.

I see people every day who have to decide whether they will buy food or pay for medications that will keep them from dying.  They have to choose whether to pay their electric bill and have heat or buy food for their family.  It makes me angry to think that in a country as rich as the one we live in that here are many who will die themselves because they chose to spend their money on food for their children than to be ostracized for applying for food stamps.  It makes me angry to know that people who call themselves “Christians” turn their back on people in need just because they decide to judge them by their own standards.

When Jesus spent time with the people, he didn’t spend it with the ones who could afford everything they needed.  He spent it with the hurting, the desperate, the poor, the sick and the outcasts.  It pleases me to know, that were I alive in Jesus’ time, He would have spent time with me.

Romans 14:22 ~ Have you faith? have it to yourself before God. Happy is he that condemns not himself in that thing which he allows.

Thine, not mine …

Sometimes it seems that life is at a standstill
That everything I want the most  is within my reach
But in my soul I know that if I touch it too soon, before it is time,
Then like sand, it will slip through my fingers and I will be forced into waiting again.  There are things I’ve yet to do before I will be ready for my destiny.  I await it, though, with bated breath.

So many people  cross my path every day in one capacity or another
Some familiar faces and others strangers, but the contact is there, even if only for one moment.  A word of encouragement or a nod and smile is so simple and yet …  Did I do it, I’m not sure, but still, I am  accountable for what I have or haven’t done because that is what moves inside me.

An opportunity for all I hope for presents out of nowhere, as if from the air
And words escape me as my mind races forward, struggling
Trying to grasp the answer that I know is there before me and then He moves
They are His words, not mine, that I want to convey for mine are empty and weak on their own and this, after all, is what He had planned for me.

What I do, be it helpful or hurtful will continue to move forward
Touching others who had no idea one person could bring such joy or sorrow
I underestimate God’s reach because I underestimate my own, which has nothing to do with anything and everything to do with where I want to go which is where He wants me to go.  It’s a choice, it always has been and always will be.

He knows what He’s doing although I often question Him
I suppose the humanness of myself cannot simply take a gift as a gift but must question it and examine it to see if it can be trusted, not having faith enough to just take it for what it is. But at the end of the day when I give thanks for my blessings I remember to thank Him for the day, irregardless of what it brought, because it was for His glory, after all.

The journey I am on changes daily
As I surrender all I am to my King
But the journey doesn’t end when I close my eyes to sleep
The difference that I’ve made in His name, be it good or bad, encouraging, discouraging or indifferent keeps rolling on …

Romans 12:1  (my favorite chapter) … I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.

~ read this verse, search your heart and soul … if you are satisfied, then carry on … if you are left wanting, seek Him … He’ll light the darkness… I read it often and each time, i’m either closer or further from Him … we are not perfect and Jesus, irrelevant of His perfectness,  understands that.  God bless and keep you all … not everyone believes, but there is no harm in praying … no harm at all …

Lightning over Big Moccasin

Oh Lord Jesus, I pray that someone, somewhere for reasons that only You know has been uplifted by You through me this day … Though there is much I would like to have,  there is nothing I can ask for that would bless me more abundantly. Amen.

His grace in my moment of weakness (a poem)

At times like these, I truly know

That there are ones, whe’er friend or foe

who’ll say a prayer that I’ll be whole

In my time of weakness.

Without my saying a single word

The warriors of Prayer were instantaneously spurred

And their heartfelt prayers, my Father heard

In my time of weakness.

His encouragement began in my mother’s home

Where by grace she knew what was already known

And her love covered me like a blanket of blooms

In my time of weakness.

It then continued at my sister’s pool

Where love for my precious family did fuel

Dulling the  confusion of my inward duel

In my time of weakness.

Then there is a moment,  as every now and then

A priceless bit of time with my dearest friend

The one I know, for certain, will be there ’til the end

In my time of weakness.

The reminiscing of days gone by

Some with laughter, some with sigh

Some with tears brimming in our eyes

In my time of weakness.

Knowing that what was once can be

No longer a part of real life for me

Knowing I see what i want to see

In my time of weakness.

In my heart, I realize the pain they’d feel

If but a glimpse of my sadness was revealed

Knowing inside I had lost the zeal

In my time of weakness.

Getting down on bended knee

I pray that from these chains I’m freed

That no more would life be consumed by grief

In my time of weakness.

Driving home with my thoughts I felt so close to despair

Then creation rumbled as it cried out its prayer

That your gentle loving spirit would sooth my every care

In my time of weakness.

© gina minton kearns

Daisies in June

Jim is gone.  He is with Jesus. Even if it were in my power to do so, I would not bring him back to this  life with it’s twists, turns, trials and sorrows.  So this day, this night, this moment, I set him free.  Happy Birthday my precious one … I loved him in life and will love him, even if by God’s will, there is another, until my last breath, for he was a gift of my Father and he helped me see what I needed to see to fulfill the destiny God has for me.  I had words to say, but was unable to  find the way to say them  … and then they were given to me by the Sweet Holy Spirit … It always seems that, at my weakest moment, He gives to me what I need to hear … this time, He gave it to me in words … My God.  My Savior.  My Jesus.

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