There's something to be said about faith

So here’s the other thing….

Yesterday I mentioned there were two things I wanted to address.  One was the dreams, and I did that already.  The other is a thought I had on my way home Friday night when I stopped to pick up Chinese take-out.  As random thoughts are prone to do, one crossed my mind without logic or warning.  The thought was about faith.  There are different kinds of faith, I thought.  I don’t mean faith as in religions, but faith by the definition of the word.  Faith can be confidence or trust in something or someone, or a belief in something that is unproved.  I realized that my belief in God is strong and undeniable, but my struggles stem from my lack of faith that is defined as trust.  I have a hard time giving it all over to Him and letting go.  I like my life now but would like some things to change for the better.  I know for these things to change, then change is necessary.  I don’t trust change; I have too much of my Daddy in me.  In this way my faith is weak.  I worry too much losing control of the things I have today because of what might happen tomorrow, next week, or next year.

God does move in mysterious ways, doesn’t He?  I’ve mentioned here before that I never hear His voice.  Actually, Friday night at Best Wok I heard it clear but didn’t recognize it.  He revealed Himself to me in response to my thoughts through the Gospel of Matthew passage I listened to in mass today.  In this passage Jesus said:

Mat 6:25  Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

Mat 6:26  Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

Mat 6:27  Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?

Mat 6:28  And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

Mat 6:29  And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Mat 6:30  Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

Mat 6:31  Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

Mat 6:32  (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.

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

Mat 6:34  Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

“O Ye of little faith.”  I took that as a direct word from God’s mouth to my ears.  

I understand, too, why I was led to talk about my dreams yesterday instead of the faith issue.  God needed me to wait one more day so I could hear His say on the matter.  It is also ironic, or not, that I helped my husband burn a field yesterday.  The grass that was so vibrant green last summer and an earthen brown this winter is now burned to ashes.  From beneath the ashes new grass will emerge and the vibrancy will return. God will again clothe the grass. I am of His image. If He will take care of the grass, then surely He will take care of me.  Jesus said so. 

My trust isn’t magically changed; faith isn’t a magic trick.  It is a little stronger, though.  I am but a weak human with many obstacles to overcome.  

Lord, thank you for knowing my weaknesses and leading me to your strength when I need it most.

Lost moments in tornado dreams

I was trying to take a picture of my sister and it blurred.  A real lost moment.

This afternoon I decided that instead of the nap I so desperately wanted to take I would spend some time on my back porch.  When Lily left I sent away her doghouse and set up a sitting area I never find time to use.  The space is at the far end of the covered porch right outside my bedroom door.  It was such a good spot for Lily.  If she was in her house she could look straight ahead into the breakfast room and watch us at the table, or she could look slightly to the right and see me in my sleeping spot.  If she looked slightly to the left she could watch the wild birds eat from the feeders and lie in wait for one to knock itself cold flying into a window.  She did love the taste of wild bird.  I miss Lily.

So instead of sleeping I sit awake in her space and watch the quail as they creep ever so slowly out of the woods and into the open for a taste of cracked corn and sunflower seeds.  A few doves and squirrels and a lone rabbit have been sharing in the feast as well.  The wind chime above my head knocks slightly on this breezy day, and smoke from nearby (controlled) brush fires wafts deliciously through the air, adding smell as another sense that has been stimulated on this lazy warm afternoon.  Spring is so close I could almost touch it, but I don’t dare to wish it aloud.

I wanted to spend this time to write about two subjects, but they are unrelated and I can’t think of a way to weave them together in one essay.  So I guess I’ll choose the idea about my dreams again since dreams seem to be an important part of my life. In the last few weeks a new dream theme has emerged in my sleeping hours.  The count of dreams with this new theme is now four in as many weeks. 

 

In the first dream I was in a big city on a tour bus, presumably New York City, and I saw a huge clock tower with a lively crescent moon face.  I was thrilled by it and I pulled out my camera to take a picture but the shutter button jammed and I couldn’t get the shot.  The bus was moving so there was no second chance.  About that time a spectacular thing was happening in the sky.  Above the iconic skyline there were flares, like smoke bombs, shooting off and the smoke was making incredible shapes in the sky.  Some of the shapes looked like small tornados.  Again, I was thrilled but when I went for the picture the shutter jammed again; no picture.  The moment was lost.

I don’t remember the details of the second dream, but the sky was amazing.  The clouds had formed to look like a wallpaper pattern of small cabbage roses.  Out comes the camera and the shutter jams again.  Another lost opportunity.

In the third dream a tornado was raging through my house, but it wasn't my house.  Amazingly the house was unharmed by the storm.  There was a large open carport and its ceiling had been recently painted.  The tornado had stirred the paint up so that it was swirled on the ceiling like one of those Easter eggs that you dip in the colored oil.  Everyone gathered under it and looked at it in awe.  It was so cool I just had to take a picture.  What happened?  Yep, camera jammed.  No picture, moment lost.

The fourth dream was last night.  I was at a conference in a beach town somewhere on the west coast.  The scenery was amazing.  The beaches had tall dunes of warm sand the color of lightly browned white-bread toast.  Out comes the camera but this time when I took the picture the shutter released and I got the shot.  There was a problem, though.  All I had was a bad telephoto lens.  Looking through the camera was like looking through a macro lense and everything was magnified.  There was no way I could get a picture of the entire landscape so the mood of the picture was completely lost.  Like the other dreams I had feelings of frustration and disappointment.

These dreams have been so sensorial.  I wanted to capture those moments on camera so I could share them so others could experience them as well.  There was always something blocking me.  I missed the moment.  And what’s the deal with tornados anyway? What am I missing out on in my life?  Or better yet, why can’t I hold onto the good things?

Sitting here in Lily’s spot soaking in the fresh, albeit smoky air, the bird sounds and smattered clatter of the wind chime is better than a dream, it’s real.  I waste far too much time sleeping away the weekend.  Is that what my dreams are telling me?  Get out of bed and go and do! 

Everything today is good, so good in fact I was going to use my phone to take a picture of my serene scenery but the battery on my phone just died.   ??

It goes back a long way

Photo credit to Gatlin Essary, high school yearbook photographer

One of these days my big mouth is going to get me into real trouble.  I blame my occasional insolent attitude on my elementary/junior high classmates.  Early on we were a good group of kids, well behaved and model students.  But sometime around the sixth grade our numbers began to dwindle and those of us who were left became a tighter and closer knit group. The tighter the knit, the stronger the weave.

Our sixth grade teacher was the cool teacher who tolerated our obnoxious retorts and our seventh grade teacher was sharp enough to give it back to us.  By the time we reached the eighth grade our concerted effort of acerbic sarcasm reached an intolerable level and I don’t know how we all were not expelled.  

  

Our eighth grade teacher, bless her, once dismissed class before the end of the day and ordered us all out of her classroom in a bellowing voice laced with tears.  I think we may have laughed.  We had a reputation, but hey, we were entertaining.  I remember an inspiring serenade of “Another Brick in The Wall” we gave our school principal, Sister Anne.   I don’t think she got the joke.

That somewhat separatist attitude has stayed with me all these years.  I’ve always had a slightly slanted point of view of things, never in total agreement with the major majority nor the minor minority.  I try to bring a different point of view through the back door and let it seep into consciousness.  It’s almost like looking at a photograph of a person standing in a room and instead of looking at the person I see  mundane things like the painting hanging on the far wall, or the couch, or the cat in the corner and then use those items to explain the expression behind the eyes of the person in the photograph. See? I can't even explain it very well.

The acerbic sarcasm has stayed with me as well, and that is what is going to get me into serious trouble one day.  See, when I get stung I tend to use words to sting back. Ironic, I know, since I was once selectively mute and still do not initiate many conversations.  My downfall will be the way I sometimes use my words sharply and quickly, like slicing a piece of raw meat with a ceramic blade.

I know I need to count to ten and think before I respond when I’ve been stung, but the biting sting can be so bitter and the reactive impulse so impetuous that before I know it I’ve stung back and then the poison spreads like histamine in an allergic reaction. 

I am doing better, though.  I’ve learned to make more use of facts to give me credence. (like here... I made a snide comparative comment about people with upper-level degrees but I deleted it because it wasn’t very polite)  I’ve learned to carve words and use them as building blocks instead of deadly weapons.  But I have bad days, too.  My husband can attest, bless him. 

So, I apologize if I’ve stung you before. It probably was my intention at the moment, I can't lie, but I’m sure I felt guilty about it later.  I blame it ALL on Malcolm, Jill, Brian, David, Lisa, Cheryl, Greg, Eric, Tray, Bruce, Terri, Marvin, Eileen, Cathy, Missy and Joanna.  Did I miss anyone?

Families are what dreams are made of

Sometimes the best dreams happen in the shortest time.  I had an aching back last night so I had to change my position several times to make it ease.  I woke up sometime very early this morning and thought I could hear the slightest drip of rain outside my window.  Knowing if I opened my eyes I would never go back to sleep I kept them shut and tossed over to a new position.  

I dreamed my Oldest Friend and Traveling Partner had a friend who was part of a very large family, as in “Duggar” large.  This friend invited her to her family’s house for an overnight stay and she, in turn, invited me.  The house was enormous.  There was an immense great room downstairs with a balcony overlooking it. It was more like a big hotel than a house.  Our room was down a long hallway and there were three single beds in it.  All of the rooms had multiple beds and every room was full.  We were called downstairs and on the way down I counted 10 beds and many of them had sleeping children in them.

The rooms were clean, neat and homey, but the common areas of the house were terribly cluttered.  I had to climb over piles of junk to find the stairs only to not find any stairs.  That is when things began to change.  The parents of the family saw me struggling and laughed and went to “get the stairs”.  They rolled in two large, beautiful staircases and aligned them with the few steps attached the second floor.  

Instead of going down immediately I watched from above as the family members streamed into the great room and greeted each other.  They had a roll call and each said their name and waved.  It was as if the Robertsons from Duck Dynasty met the Duggars and the von Trapps and a new breed of extreme families was born.  Come to think of it the parents looked an awful lot like Phil and Miss Kay.

I went down and mingled around and then went back upstairs to change my clothes for the next activity.  I watched awhile from the balcony.  There was a tingling feeling that overcame me at that moment while I was watching the family downstairs.  I fell in love with that family.  They were so warm and welcoming.  To them the more they filled their home with family and friends the happier they were.

I commented to someone in the room that in my town my family was considered large, but nothing like the family that lived in this house.

At that point everything in my dream grew and expanded into the ridiculous.  Festive decorations of an anonymous holiday appeared everywhere, especially hanging in streamers from the ceiling.  Now instead of one hallway there were several and I got lost trying to find my room.  I got out my cell phone to take a few pictures and then set it down while I explored one hallway and when I went back to get it I couldn’t find it.  I was just about to ask the hallway desk clerk (yes, desk clerk) to call my number when my cell phone sounded my wake-up alarm and I did just that.

I wasn’t ready for that dream to end.  I wanted to find my room and change my clothes and go back to the festivities that were happening downstairs.  It brought back the feeling of being a child in a more realistically large family of seven children.  It was rarely quiet or still in our house.  If I wanted to be alone I would go outside to play.  But I don’t ever remember wanting to be alone.  I don’t think I ever wished I could be an only child.  

By the time I was in high school I was like an only child.  I remember feeling very anxious when I found out my brother was moving out of the house.  I already felt like I was being left behind by the others who left before him.  When he moved I felt abandoned.  It’s hard to be the youngest child in a large family and have them leave you one by one.  That was probably the loneliest I ever felt in that house.  But the feeling was short-lived because I was never really alone.  I had a nephew everyday after school and a sister who came everyday to take him home.  I had an invalid grandmother so there were always aunts, uncles, first cousins, second cousins, friends and neighbors drifting in and out.  Then the oldest sister moved back in and so ended my only child days.  After that I had three parents telling me what to do.  When she moved out I was happy to have the house to myself that is if I didn’t count the nephew, nieces, aunts, uncles, first cousins, second cousins, friends, and neighbors drifting in and out.

Maybe I didn’t want to leave my dream this morning because it was somewhat a reflection of my own life; neat yet cluttered, festively decorated, and with husband, children, nephews, nieces, in-laws, aunts, uncles, first cousins, second cousins, friends, and neighbors drifting in and out.  I like it that way.