Wordless Wednesday - Reds, Umbers, & Textures

Who Am I?

I am a writer, a poet.

I am a Greyhound Mom, a Feathered Friend’s Mom.

I am a daughter, a sister, a godmother, a good friend.

I am a child of God.

I am an intelligent, creative Woman of Worth.

I am a person with a physical disability.

So often I hear (and from those who love me) that “you can’t do ‘this and such’,” and “you shouldn’t try” and “you may hurt yourself.”

Discouragement spoken in love.  Protection.  I understand and can see that the intents of those hearts are only for good.

But what is “good?”  For whom?  Who am I?  I am not a disability.  I am a woman, dependent on others, who holds on viciously to what independence she has.

In my weakness, I have strength of character.

In my neediness, I encourage and support others.

During my most vulnerable moments, I fall into the arms of Jesus.

Who am I?  I am still, basically, the same person I was when healthy.  I now have many more physical limitations and am in a constant state of learning how to cope, compromise and accept.  I am learning to discern that which cannot be changed, and improve on that which may be changed.

I am ME.

Gifts Outside My Window

Many people don’t like the wind.  “It messes up my hair.”  “It blows dirt in my eyes.”  Many people don’t like it, but I love the wind!

Breezes coax beautiful music from my wind chimes.  Birds simply hold out their wings and soar on currents, and I imagine what it feels like to fly.  Wind brings bits of the world to me as it pelts raindrops from the mountain against my window, or fills my home with fresh scents of springtime, or even as it shares with me the aroma of a neighbor’s breakfast bacon.

But the wind is unpredictable.  I never really know from where it came, how strong it’s going to be, how long it will last.  I don’t worry about it, nor spend time trying to foretell its direction, destination and results.  I only sit back and enjoy it.

I am reminded that the Holy Spirit, in His sovereignty, is a lot like the wind.  He works as He pleases with results I can’t predict, in ways I don’t understand.  Sometimes He is a gentle breeze, sometimes a mountain storm.  And with Him, my soul can soar higher than those birds in the air.

The wind blows wherever it pleases.  You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.  So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.  John 3:8

Pass the Peas, Please

Ow.  The after-effects of my last tumble are taking hold.  My arms hurt where the paramedics pulled me out of the way.  I did something to my foot with this second fall...there’s a black-n-blue “band” across my ankle.  I think I may have twisted it.  Etcetera.  Time to get out the frozen peas to "ice" it.

Go to a doctor?  Not at this time.  Nothing is broken.  Basically, what I really need to do is rest.  Preferably in bed with this foot elevated.

I’m not too good with bed rest.  Unless I can sleep soundly, I just mentally ping off the walls with grand plans of what I think I need to do, ideas to implement, and “stuff” in general.

I can’t read in bed anymore.  I did that all the time when I was younger.  But now when I read, I prefer to have my book/Kindle on a table and underline/highlight or make notes.

Maybe this is the time to pop in the audiobook I have on The Pilgrim’s Progress (John Bunyan).  I have a  CD player beside my bed, so I’ll just settle in for 10+ hours!  Pass the peas, please!

Makeit Simple - *M*'s Pasta

I will preface this recipe with a little story of how I ended up trying it.  My friend back home, *M*, is Italian.  Her father made this dish every Friday night for dinner in the "Old Country."  She invited me over for dinner and said that, if I didn't like it, she had another meal ready to pop in the oven for me.  Puzzled, I asked her why I wouldn't like it?  "It is made with anchovies."

"Put the other food in the oven!"

It took quite a bit of cajoling.  I argued that I HATED anchovies.  Detested.  Despised.  Abhorred.  It was only because she almost pleaded with me to try it, and because I loved her as a friend, that I gave in.

I was stunned when it immediately became one of my favorites! 

Take 2 cloves of garlic.  Use a fork to crush them in a small saucepan.  Add 1/4 cup butter, add a scant 1/4 cup olive oil, then add 2 cans of anchovies.  (Do not drain.)  Turn heat to medium low, cover with a lid and simmer together 5 - 10 minutes.  In a large bowl, mix into cooked angel hair pasta or capellini.  Serve with warm Italian bread and salad.

You will enjoy!

Poetry Pause - Jazz Currents

smoky sax
deep throatiness
singin' blackness
sighin' blue
preachin' till dawn
more than my heart
more than my mind
notes pull from within the well
a soft wail out of the depths
from beyond where I can see
of nights gone past
and days not born
a thirsty cry I never knew
overflows, spills out
come back
and find me
let me live

by Pandora
Potpourri - A Magazine of the Literary Arts
Vol. 9  No. 4  1997

A "Golden Moldy" about an olive oil lamp

One of the first verses I ever memorized when I was a kid was Psalms 119:105 in the KJV  --  “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”  I just learned something new and it was an “Ah-HA!” moment for me.  I always had a mental picture of the ‘lamp’ being like one of the kerosene lanterns we took camping with us, and the ‘light’ was … well … a pretty large illuminated area.  Like the high beams from a car’s headlights.  Or a lighthouse beam.

But I read that the ‘lamp’ referenced was one of those little olive oil lamps, like the one pictured at left.  The light thrown off from one of those is enough to take, maybe, a step or two.  And I thought, “That doesn’t make sense to me.  God’s Word should be revealing … should show the way clearly ….”

Oh … oh yeah ….  that’s not necessarily how you “live by faith and not by sight,” is it?  It’s a matter of trust.  Many times I CAN’T see clearly, but I follow that little light from an olive oil lamp (God’s Word) and TRUST Him to direct my steps.  AH-HA!  Well, gosh, it only took about 40 years to see that little nugget!  Thank You, Jesus!

I emailed my friend in PA about this.  She wrote back:

“The smaller olive oil lamps made enough light for a few steps at a time; I saw some of these lamps when I was in Israel (in an antique shop).  Actually, I never thought about this!  But, tis true, we want enough light to illuminate our entire lives when, in fact, we can only live our lives a step at a time, so the smaller lamp is adequate.”

One step at a time.  And trust God.

For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith; as it is written, "The just shall live by faith."  Romans 1:17