Tag Archives: encouragement

Once a dreamer …

always a dreamer … Being a nurse for the past twenty-five years has been an experience in and of itself.  It would take a hundred blogs running every day to review the exploits that happen just in my little world.  But this isn’t about nursing, not specifically, anyway, but about a path not taken.  I have enjoyed nursing, for the most part, and would not want to trade the experience and knowledge I’ve gained over the last two and a half decades.  It just wasn’t what I wanted to do.

I had three goals when I was a kid and they were to sing, play the piano and photograph the world.  All three of those things took guts and I didn’t have any.  I had no nerve, little faith and plenty of fear.  So I took the easy road, leaving my dreams to wither and fade into the dust of my past.

It only took a few months to realize that I had made a dire mistake, but I still had no nerve, little faith and plenty of fear; I just let it ride.  As years passed, the dreams I left behind refused to be still.  It became apparent to me that a dream that really did fade into the past, forgotten, wasn’t a dream worth chasing anyway; my dream was banging at my head and my heart.  At every opportunity, I found myself with a camera in my hand.   Nature and created things began to be a central focus in my life and weekends were spent jaunting around looking for “pictures to take”.  I went to work every day and spent the evenings fiddling with the camera, playing with settings, learning, without really realizing, to do what I had always wanted to do; be a photographer.  I never learned to play the piano and I sing only at church, but those are but ripples in the pool.  It is the light and shadow that I love and am thankful that even though I was foolish and fearful once, God saw fit to bless me with what I wanted most.

I find comfort in the images He shows me.  I will continue to work as a nurse but on weekends, I’ll be in the mountains or wherever life might take me, photographing the beauty that is before me.  It brings me inexplicable joy to be immersed in the feel and smell of creation knowing that I serve the one who created it.    I don’t believe in coincidences so I can come only to the conclusion that this path is one that God chose for me and continues to bless every single day of my life;  I may not have had the guts  back then, but I have them now, along with the faith and nerve to do it and do it well.

If just one is encouraged by this post to put fear behind them and follow their dreams, then it has served its purpose.

I had the ability to fly all along, it was courage to spread my wings that I lacked.

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.

time, change and dreams … and the encouragement therein

Time.  That elusive element that can drag out for what seems like an eternity or pass in a split moment.  The one thing that is both a constant and ephemeral, often at the same time. It seems to go hand in hand with change, a thing that I have never quite been able to grasp nor to become adept at handling.  While change isn’t necessarily a bad thing, often a good thing even, it is still unyielding in it’s power to overtake my life.  Change, like the passing of time, is inevitable.  There is no miracle that can erase those things that make my life better or worse and there is no magic that can bring back a moment that has passed.  Having a memory of something that has happened or that has been at one point is not the same thing as having that moment to live all over again.  Each time a memory is revisited, it changes slightly, taking on the gleam of what I would have it to be, whether it is better or worse than I remembered the last time I visited it.   There are even those memories that seem to be inherited, those that don’t really belong to me and yet they are in my mind and my heart as though they were mine all along.  My brain, heart, spirit and soul have been strained to the breaking point at times and when that happens, it feels as though any chance of a normal life cannot be possible.  Life then takes on a dream-like quality that is somewhere between reality and fantasy.  There are times when I hope to stay awake forever so that dreams cannot blur the reality that I strive to hold onto.  I dream in color and am often in the midst of violence and blood, neither of which I am fond of on any level.  Of late, my dreams have veered down an entirely different vein and it remains to be seen what will come of them.  I don’t put any stock in dreams, not in the way that some folks do in thinking that they mean anything in particular.  They are outlets that allow my body and mind to be free and clear of everything while taking a journey into fascinating, though often frightening, places.  I know that I am not alone in this statement.  I have friends that have dreams that make mine seem innocent and juvenile in comparison and I can only nod and appreciate that I have not yet crossed into that particular realm.  Time seems to have no bearing on dreams and rarely factors into them.  Over the past couple of years, I have spoken with many people about their dreams.  Their dreams are often perpetuated by time and change and revolve around loss and death of people or others, whether it was natural or tragic, that they loved.  Each person has said that they have had many, many dreams of those they are missing and I can’t help but feel blessed in some way that my dreams have never crossed that threshold.  I have not dreamed of my husband, not once, since he passed over two years ago.  I have not dreamed of my grandparents though my grandmothers, both of them, were a defining force in my life.  I have not dreamt of friends that have died nor of pets that I cherished.  While on one hand, I feel that I have been cheated out of revisiting those that I loved, on the other, I am glad that I have not had those moments between sleep and wakefulness, that place that holds me captive until I can awaken and have only the foggy memory of something happening.  I am glad that my nights are not plagued with actual loss and torment, though my days often are.  There are days and days that have no significance whatsoever, and then suddenly, out of the shadows, time passes and a moment that meant so much is upon me and I feel as though I am dying myself.  I have wished to die.  Maybe it is a fallacy to believe that everyone has a moment here and there when the burdens of life become so heavy that death seems like the obvious solution.  It is not the solution, not to anything, at least not by my own hand, but there have been times when it weighed into the equation.  As I’ve gotten older, more experienced and possibly even wiser, those thoughts don’t enter into my mind.  It is irresponsible to believe such dwellings and above all things, I do not want to be irresponsible.  Ok, that’s a lie, I do want to be irresponsible and completely carefree and irrational, but reality keeps me tethered whether I like it that way or not.  I have found myself, at times of great despair, praying for faith, but praying for faith is like spitting in the wind.  In order for prayer to do any good, faith must come first, for if I have no faith in whom to which I pray, then I have wasted my time.  I do have faith.  I have faith in an awesome God that has taken me through valleys that I would never have believed I could have lived through.  I came out bruised and battle-scarred, but not broken.  I have been close to being broken, but never to the point of no return.  That is one of the mysteries of time.  It can heal or it can destroy, depending on what I decide to do with the circumstances that are given me.  So whether it be time or change or dreams that I cannot control, when the day dawns and I awake, I am thankful for all I have learned.  I’m a bit apprehensive about the lessons  yet to learn, but those valleys are not my concern at the moment, and when I travel through them, I will not be alone.  And neither will those who will read these words and hopefully, find some kind of comfort in knowing that the thoughts of time and change and dreams are shared by many, that they are not alone in their journey through the darkest times they will ever face.  I am not so gullible as to think that there will not be more darkness in my life, but with each trial, I find that I am stronger and more able to face that which will come.  That is the beauty of the mystery of time … it really does, if allowed to pass, heal and restore our minds and hearts to a place that is bearable, a place in which we become not those who are discouraged by life, but are able to encourage because of it.  I like to think that because I have been there, I can encourage others who are there now, wherever that place may be.  So be encouraged my friends, and know that irregardless of what is in the here and now, tomorrow is another day and there will eventually be joy in the morning.

Romans 8:38-39 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,                        Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Cooking for one isn’t for everybody

Cooking for one.  There are tons of books and videos on how to cook for one.  How to make a dish so that it is sized for one person with leftovers for the following day.  Well, I have news.  When you cook for one, but have leftovers for another meal, you are cooking for two, but if calling it cooking for one with leftovers is enough for you, then go with it.  When my husband was living, we cooked together.  Sometimes he would amaze me with dishes that even the finest restaurant couldn’t touch.  I told him many times that I would put him head to head against the best chefs in the country any day of the week.  Cooking was a joy and a pleasure, but then it became a chore.  I can find no pleasure in cooking anymore.  I want to.  I want to be able to concoct things from a little of this and a little of that, but I just can’t seem to find the desire.  I still have the skills and the know-how, I just don’t want to.  I don’t want to cook something that nobody but myself can smell or taste.  It is one of the odd changes that took place in my life after the death of Jim.  Cooking used to be a balm for a bad day … huge, complicated Italian or Indian dishes, Thai chicken and curry beef … but somewhere along the way, it became a burden instead of a pleasure.  At first, I felt a bit guilty, as though I were letting someone down, but then I realized that there is nothing wrong with me or the way I feel.  Can I still cook?  Sure I can, and with the best of them, but do I want to?  Very rarely.  Instead, I call my mom to see what she’s having for dinner.  Many things have changed, cooking being the least of them.  For the first time in my life, I am honestly, truly on my own.  I have no one to answer to, no one to please, no one to cook for and no one to make conversation with.  At first, it was frightening, but as time passes, it becomes liberating and I find myself embracing the thought of being alone.  I realize that while I was trying to get used to it, I got used to it.  One can’t expect to adapt overnight.  It’s been two and a half years since I lost the love of my life and I am just now starting to  live without him.  If you’re still struggling, don’t beat yourself up.  The time will come when you will realize that life goes on and you can either live it or let it pass you by.  Choose wisely.

John 16:22And ye now therefore have sorrow: but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.

for greeting cards that say what you want to say, visit http://www.gcuniverse.com/throughtheeyesofthespirit

To Paris (with a little help from my friends) via a Greeting Card

In the late spring, early summer of 2012, my daughter, a member of the UVA-Wise Highland Cavalier Marching Band, is going to Paris.  I am blown away by this and plan to give her all the financial help I can so that she will be able to go.  On my own, I cannot afford to pay for us both to go.  While I have a passport and have had the wanderlust for so long I can no longer remember when it started, I am struggling with the notion that I might not get to go.  It isn’t jealousy or envy, for I couldn’t be more happy that our Tay gets to go on such an amazingly incredible adventure.  No, it is the photographer in me that wants to see.  That needs to see.  That longs to see.  One of my most constant prayers has been to ask that my photography enable me to travel.  That greeting cards would allow me to go places that I’ve only dreamed of and to visit each place, across the globe, where my cards have sold.  When I pray, what I see is being able to just jump in my car or on a plane and go wherever, whenever, with only a few changes of clothes, my camera, my phone, my laptop and my tripod … just any old time and for as long as I want.  While I believe in my heart that such will happen eventually, as it was God who set me on the path of photography in the first place, and so I feel very strongly that it is He who has put this wanderlust in my heart, I have no doubt that photography will take me where I am meant to go.  I am hoping that it will take me to Paris.  I have a specific destination, besides Ardmore in County Waterford, Ireland, to pray about.  So I am praying specifically this time.  I am praying that the money I make on my greeting cards in the last quarter of the year, September through December will take me to Paris.  While I wish that hundreds of thousands of people would share this and would talk up Through the Eyes of the Spirit, I leave it to the Father, who already knows how it will end.

To check out the greeting cards, click the photo below to open Through the Eyes of the Spirit in a new window.  If you feel led to do so, share the link with friends and family.  God is in control, but your support and encouragement is appreciated.  While everyone may not understand the need to go and to see, some will.  As for me, being accepted, even when I’m not understood, is priceless.

Amazing Grace… how sweet the sound

This is a speech that I wrote after being asked to speak at a church in Cleveland, TN.  It was written shortly after Jim died, within a month or so, and was integral in my healing from this shock… God is faithful… and He is worthy.  I wanted to share this, as there may be another new widow out there who needs to know that God will not forsake them… no matter what

 
Hello.  Thank you for having me with you today.  My name is Gina Minton Kearns, and I am, among other things, a Christian, a photographer, writer and greeting card designer.  I live in a very small town in Southwest Virginia, on my parent’s farm.  The fields stretch out in front of the house, all the way to the road, nearly a half a mile.  The mountains loom behind it and rolling hills bypass it on either side.  It is a peaceful place.  I love it there.  I’ve loved it there since the first time I ever sat foot on it, before my Dad decided to buy it and move there.  He later, after my Jim and me were married, invited us to move by him on his land.  We went and that’s where we spent the last few years.  Jim and I would have celebrated our tenth anniversary this year.    He was called home two weeks and two days before our anniversary.  It was an awesome shock and completely unexpected.  I really can‘t think of a time in my life when the shock has literally brought me to my knees.  Coming home, expecting to find him doing something around the house, and find him dead over his coffee instead.  I remember thinking, all in a matter of seconds, “well, he’s fallen asleep at his table” and before that thought was complete “he wouldn’t do that”.  And that was true.  He wasn’t asleep.  He was dead.  Had been dead for the several hours I had been trying to reach him.    I can’t say that I was really worried about him when I couldn‘t reach him.  I assumed that he had gone somewhere and forgotten his phone, or as a worse case scenario, he had fallen or become disabled somehow while tending his peppers.  It never occurred to me that he could be dead.  It never once, not even when I was thinking of all the things that could have happened to him, not once, crossed my mind.

I went through, then, what you’d expect:  weeping, wailing, oh-noing, questioning, screaming, crying.  All of it.  Then the funeral home came and took him away.  He was buried in the little cemetery of our beloved church, in a beautiful place that watches the sunset through one of the most beautiful trees I have ever seen.  It’s like it was sewn there, by the birds or the wind, for Jim.  God knows all things.  

I love trees.  I love the sound they make in the summer, when they are full of leaves and the wind blows them.  I love the sound of them in the Autumn, when the leaves are drying and rustling in the wind – then blowing into the air to  make a colorful rainfall of leaves and falling to a carpet that smells earthy and wonderful… and the lonesome whistling as it weaves through the bare branches of wintertime.  Our lives are very similar to that of a tree through one full cycle of seasons.  We start out new and bursting with life.  Growing strong in the sunlight and the rain and all the other blessings of God… and then a season passes and we are mature, having children, bearing fruit for the next generations.  Thriving on health and fullness of life, dancing wildly in the winds and the rains after toiling in the heat of the day… and then another season passes and the children are grown, the seed mature, and gone to their own lives.  Our strength begins to falter and the winds are much harder to withstand.  By the time another season passes, we will be old and waiting for the final call of God when we can give up our suffering and be with him forever.  Bare and naked before the Lord, yet beautiful in a battle-scarred body and our faith… knowing that after another season, there will be rebirth into the place where there will be no death.  God is faithful.

It was hard losing Jim.  He was a precious gift to me from God… a gift that helped to nurture my spirit and soul as we worshipped the Jesus we loved together.  My heart was heavy, too heavy for me to bear alone, so God sent a blessing to me far beyond my wildest imaginings.   I’d like to share my story with you for it is beautiful to me how God works.  He has no care for time, for He is time… all time.  Anyway, I had cleaned out Jim’s closet as I wanted someone to get some use out of his clothes.  They are too good to waste, taking space, that if allowed, would become shrine-like and sacred.  Nothing short of what is God’s should be considered sacred.  Some of them hadn’t been worn in a long time and they smelled stale, so I washed them.  It was on the way to the clothesline with the washed clothes that God spoke to me.  We often think that we can only hear from God if we are in church or during prayer.  But God is with us always, including when we are not in church and not praying.  He is with us when we are hurting and sorrowful.  When we are guilt-ridden and burdened by the trials of this life.   So on the back porch with a basket full of wet clothes, God reached out to me.  There a blooming flower caught my eye.  A beautiful, perfectly blooming, orange calendula.  All the other flowers in the surrounding pots were dead.  The frost had killed them and they had turned brown and stood in the pots like dead trees that had never fallen.  It was then that I noticed that although the bloom had caught my eye, I could only see a tiny corner of the orange bloom, and I realized at that moment, that was how I felt.  Hidden and lost behind a forest of pain and sorrow… grief and guilt… tears and tears and tears and tears… slumping from the heaviness of the burden I had been given to bear.  I moved forward a bit and could see a bit more of the bloom.  The dead zinnia stalks with their dead seedpods were still the most prominent thing in my sight, yet there was more of the bloom than there was before.  And it was here that my journey started.
 God spoke to me through sights and feelings.  I used my camera and could feel the urging of Holy Spirit as I snapped off the photographs that were coinciding with the moments of my life I was being shown.  All the while, with each new vantage point, the days of my future were running through my head and my heart.  Not the actual day, but the essence of it with the weight of the burden I was dragging.  It was in real time.  I knew what I would feel.  I felt what I would feel.  I felt weightless and free as I lived in the moments that God was showing me. There are many trials that we face in life that drag us to our bellies, with our face in the dirt.  Obstacles that seem unsurpassable and burdens that feel unbearable.  And they are unsurpassable and unbearable if we try to get through them ourselves.  But when we turn to God to lift us up and hold us until we are able to stand, the path becomes clear and the burden lighter.  God showed this to me on that day, on the back porch, with the laundry basket at my feet.   

It never occurred to me that I would have to bear two deaths when Jim passed away.  The physical death paled in comparison to the second death.  Though both were painful, it was second, enduring death that left me shattered, broken and lost as I struggled to grasp the magnitude of enduring the reality of losing that part of him that merged with my spirit and made me feel part of the whole.  It is the knowledge that your spirit, though not broken, is severely bent and seemingly irrevocably sorrowed.  It is now that there is only the slightest glimmer of who you are behind all the pain, sorrow and weeping agony that plagues us through silent, lonely nights and empty mornings…  But after a season, although we will still be hidden behind the shadow of their missing spirit, there will be more of us.  Day by day, week by week, a battle fought hard and bitter, though at times so beautiful, the Father will continue to hold us up until our strength returns.  
 
After another season, those things which made us unique will begin to show.  The loss will still be there at the center of our heart but our spirit will slowly be spreading its wings… then at some point, there will be more of our spirit shining through and less of the pain and sorrow that ravaged it.  Although the pain and sorrow will still be there, we will be able to face it, each time, a little better than the last – for as long as we travel in this world, the sorrows and anguish will come unexpectedly… but by then, we will have become stronger than we’ve ever been.  God will have refined our faith in Him and each refining gives us strength and faith beyond what we had before.  God doesn’t want our losses and sorrows to break us.  Though we may cry, weep, pray, scream, question, beg, bargain and crash, in the end you need to choose to live your life in peace, following the roads and dreams that have culminated over a lifetime to make you special… that part you lost that completed the whole, just like the parts of others you’ve lost over the years never left – it is simply smothered, for now, underneath the grief and sorrow, but it will re-emerge in you, and through Grace, you will begin to feel whole again.  For after all, to everything there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven.  Ecclesiastes 3:1

When we are faced with trials, sorrows, tribulations, temptations and the myriad of other things we will come across as we walk through this life, God doesn’t want us to face them alone.  We are like a candle, whose flame has not been lit.  Once lit, we can either flare out or flare up.  If we flare out, we have noting… but if we flare up, we have hope.  If the trials of life put out our light, we are no good to anyone, especially to God, since with guilt, hurt or betrayal, what more, except those curses, do we have if we have no light.  Instead, we should flare up to God.  Ask him for understanding if it is his will, but don’t give up hope.  For salvation is our hope.  And that is more important than everything else combined.   So as we sorrow or grieve for that which haunts us, we should rejoice as well, for we are children of God and have been saved by the blood of his perfect lamb.  For though this world is just a little while, Salvation is eternal, never ending.  I can’t even imagine never-ending.  I’ve tried.  But in my never-ending, there’s always an ending.  I cannot fathom something without end.  How vast – more than vast- the ocean and earth are vast, but they have ends.  Salvation without end is greater than my mind can bring clear.  Do you really and truly believe all that God has said about seasons, forgiveness, love, everlasting, salvation and eternity?  If so, then flare up for Him so that others can see His light through you.  As God said in Isaiah 1:18-20:  “Come now, let us reason together” says the Lord.  Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow, though they are red like crimson, they shall be like wool.  If you are willing and obedient, you will eat the best from the land; but if you resist and rebel, you will be devoured by the sword.

Call on the Father who loves you more than anything…  Enough to watch His beautiful boy die a horrific death so that you could live with Him in glory.  He only asks for your obedience and acceptance of His son.  As we enter the season of celebration of the Holy Virgin Birth, call out to God to be with you.  He will never, ever leave you.  And He won’t, as we have done to Him so many times, let us down.