WW: PC Reminders

Last night I spent a considerable amount of time updating my computer.It had been quite a while since I had done a complete scan and clean up procedure.When I checked the virus vault, I found 3 trojans. Good thing they were the type that could be auto healed. There were 68 warning messages related to tracking cookies. Are they harmful? I'm not sure. I just deleted them all. Actually, I was wondering why they were there. I run the CCleaner after every use and it is supposed to catch all such stuff. At any rate, my computer is clean again.

What about my human hard drive? Often it is cluttered with tracking cookies, viruses, worms, and extensions left over from situations that I thought I had un-installed. The brain is really a complex organ, not to mention the "mind" part of it. And the soul? Who can know it except my Maker? Yet He has given me some tools to keep it all clean and running right.

The conscience is a built in helper. He put it in right from the start. I have downloaded portions of the Bible, "basic instructions before leaving Earth" over the years. Actually, I have an automatic update scheduled for that every day. That is if I have left the power on. I mean, if/when I open the pages and begin to read. The Holy Spirit is another great installation that keeps me on the right track. He is all the anti-virus protection that I will ever need.

Really, there's no need for me to continue with this analogy. I'm sure the point has been made. We have to have our brains working, our minds clean, and our souls pure. Thank God, He has made it all possible.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:2 NIV

One Writer's Angst

Sometimes I wonder if the rather great writers are distinguished from the rest of us merely by being true to the words they hear from within. Many, many times I have proposed to put my thoughts into some concrete form and promptly rejected the ideas out of fear. Of what I am not certain. Of rejection? Judgment? Of being misunderstood? Of being labled eccentric--or worse, stupid. All these fears keep me from that stream of consciousness sort of writing and brain storming. I fear the best words are left to rot--shackled within the dungeon of self-doubt.

And it does occur to me that if people had any inkling of what cues I garner from watching them--from the very minutiae of their lives--if they knew how closely they were being scrutinized, they would shiver with uneasiness as if being stalked by a very strange and very fat old woman with weird ideas and worn out shoes.

Perhaps this writing life is a strange habit, indeed. It requires this keen eye into the essence of life. Anyone can string together a list of characteristics and behaviors. But it requires some measure of talent and elbow grease to make the character live as one of us--to make his presence felt in the very room with you as you read. That takes a fearless writer. One who is not skittish about being seen scribbling in public places. One who does not care if others find it odd to see a washed out, frazzled figure bent over a tablet in the park, chronicling details of the setting and trying to find precisely the right word to describe the color of the berry she smashed beneath her summer sandle as she walked.

How strange it would be for others to know the writer was overly concerned about this particular shade of fruit lying on the ground or planning how best to describe the splinters in the oak bench and the way they snagged her britches as she slid across it.

Somehow it is in the details. But which to gather and which to discard; that is the art. Too much or too little of this or that in either direction will leave your reader looking as if the berry were sour. Distasteful on his tongue.

What does the reader care if this berry is red or blue or purple--unless of course it is to be smashed into a poison used to kill or simmered on a pot over an open flame to make a war paint for a young Apache warrior's first dance with war. What if this berry lured a species of bird known only to some exotic southern hemisphere, and you were the first to spy it munching mildly on this berry at your feet? What then?

It may not be all about the berry. But it is what happens to and with it in relation to life and the things that are unfolding as the berry juice splatters on an unpainted toenail and note is made of the stark contrast of purple on pale, pasty skin that has not seen enough summer days in the park. Concepts of life and death emerge as the writer ponders how the berry needed the sun to make it sweet and juicy and ripe. And how dry and dull your own days have become as you have been left to rot, withering on the vine. How choked you feel by the weeds. Untended. Neglected. Unloved.

All this the writer feels but is afraid to write.

A Little Soul Searching Today

I suppose one of the biggest things I have learned going through my recent separation is a healthy dose of respect for others who have been there. I will admit in the past I have judged people for their decision to divorce. This comes from my very ingrained beliefs that divorce is wrong. It has taken me a long time to concede to the fact that in some cases it the best thing for everyone concerned.
One of the things that has helped me has been the admonition in the scriptures when, I believe it was Paul who said: "If it is possible, as much as it is up to you, live at peace with all men." Romans 12:18.
Now, friends, I realize he is not speaking in particular about marriage. But I do know that God wants us to live in peace. And that "If" right there is an important word. Also, "as much as it is up to you." There were many things gone wrong with my marriage. Some of them out of my control. I finally came to the realization that there were some things, though, that were up to me. No one else. No one else was in my marriage. No one else could make the call.
My mother was in a bad marriage for years. She stayed because she loved him. She stayed because she did not believe in divorce. She had grounds--both Biblical and otherwise. She took care of my father when he was ill and could not see for himself. She gave up her very life to sit with him 24/7. There are very few women who would stay in the mess that my dad created were they his wife. This is the example I grew up with. You didn't run when things got hard.
So it has not been an easy decision. Ultimately what made the decision for me was not one of convenience. It was not whether or not I loved him. It was not whether or not he provided for us (although survival did become an issue). It became a matter of my staying mentally and physically healthy to raise my child. It became a matter of ensuring my child had a roof over his head and at least one stable parent. But ultimately it became a matter of having some peace. As I have said repeatedly, you cannot make a good decision when you are mentally stressed to your limits. You cannot make good decisions when you have run for months and into the years on minimal sleep. And this is what I have been trying to get him to see. Neither of us were headed in a good direction. We were slowly but surely destroying each other. And allowing the Enemy to do so as well.
I tried every way imaginable to maintain peace. I went along with whatever he said. I did whatever he wanted. I did things I did not want to do. Things that went against my upbringing, my conscience, and my good sense. I tried it both ways. I tried to be passive. Things got worse. I tried to be aggressive. Things got worse. I got assertive and insisted on counseling. Things got 3 times worse. I tried to predict his responses to head them off. I covered for him to keep him happy. I tried to maintain his reputation in the community. I tried to get him medical help, psychiatric help, financial help. I worked hours upon hours to make sure the lights stayed on and there was food in the house. None of it was successful in maintaining peace. I struggled to keep him awake, balanced, and in church. Whatever he was needing out of life I could not give him.
I tried to do it all for him. But what it all boils down to is, I can't do it for him. Yes, we are married. Yes, in God's eyes we are one. But he will stand before God and give an account. And I will stand before God and give an account. Did I have a part in destroying this marriage? Yes. As I said, it takes two to make a marriage and two to have a split. I am not blameless. I am not perfect. God can change both of us. But I can't change him. I can only change me. And I'm not sure I can change me. I am going to have to let God.
All I know to say is pray for us. We need intercessory prayer. God is bigger than all of this. He knows the future. He knows us. He knows our getting up and our laying down. He formed us in our mothers' wombs. He can make all the difference. I may be cast down, but I am not destroyed. Nor forgotten.
Thanks for listening

WW: Cartoon Time

ChristianityToday.com

Eat Cake

The last 2 posts are gone with the wreath...it's time for a commercial break.

Joy Will Come....

...Or what woman who has 10 silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she finds it, she calls her women friends and neighbors together, saying, 'Rejoice with me, because I have found the silver coin I lost!' Luke 15:8,9

Sing to the LORD, you saints of his; praise his holy name. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. Psalm 30:4,5

Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. He called out to them, "Friends, haven't you any fish?" "No," they answered. He said, "Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some." When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish. John 2:4-6

You will show me the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence and the pleasures of living with you forever. Psalm 16:11

Anyone Out There?

Anger. Relief. Sadness. Anger. Contentment. Sadness. Then a good day comes along. Peace. Peace. Peace. Wonderful peace. Some days I wonder if I will ever be truly happy again. Sometimes I wonder if I ever was. More than a month has gone by. I'm still living by my same M.O.--survive until tomorrow. Many things are in limbo still. Still have questions about where my son will attend school. How long will I be in this rental home? Can I afford anything else? Will my old car hold up? What are my options? And then there are just the everyday issues like--do I get dressed today? Am I going anywhere? What do I fix for dinner? How long til bedtime.

I am finding out more and more the things that I do not want out of life. Eventually when that list gets full, then perhaps by process of elimination I will know what it is that I DO want. I do know that not going to bed angry or upset is conducive to much better sleep. And that leads to clearer thinking. Or it's supposed to, lol, but you might not can tell that from this post. Oh, well, at least I showed up. I miss you guys. If you're still out here.....let me know.

WW Fireside Testimony

Earlier this week I awoke to the smell of smoke. It was just a faint odor but enough to arouse my curiosity. I went to the front door and looked around my yard. The grass was charred within 25 feet of my porch and I could see flames in the brush.

Then I yelled,"Dale! Fire!". Without hesitation (or shoes), I ran to the well-house and grabbed the hose. I ran as fast as I could through the back yard and around the side where the flames were nearing our propane tank. As I began to spray the water, I looked up and saw a young fireman working to quench the flames. He said, "We're taking care of this." I replied with a thank you and retreated into the house.

Long story short, the fireworks fun of the previous night turned into a fire that could have easily taken our lives and destroyed our home. Thank God for an observant neighbor. Thank God for our local Volunteer Fire Department. Thank God they got there in time. Thank God for sparing our lives and our home.


Praying that you will have a happy, fun, and safe Fourth of July. Remember those who paid the price for our freedom and give thanks to the One who gave His life that we could be free. And if you happen to see any of your local firemen give them a smile and an encouraging word for me.