Blessed Are The Peacemakers

Cotton Candy Clouds - Ajaytao

The same instant the sun disappeared the torrential rains deluged the city streets. Rain jacket donned, umbrella hoisted, feet fitted with tower-high Sketchers I darted into the first doorway I came to. As it happened, it turned out to be an actual place of refuge.

I’d stumbled into St Stephen’s parish church. Inside were three people. One, obviously the minister, was standing by, and two others were sitting at, a small table on one side of the sanctuary in conversation.

In the middle of the circular sanctuary was a big wooden contraption reminiscent of a toy we played with in childhood. This toy was used to make a sort of knitted rope. It was made out of a small thread bobbin with four nails spaced out on top. You wound the wool round the pegs (nails) then pulled the wool up from under and over the top of each nail. As you continued round the nails the knitted rope grew down through the middle of the circle.

The minister invited me to knit a round. I wound and cast the next layer of knots as he held and fed me the yarn. He explained the purpose of the ‘knitting’ was prayerful meditation based on our call to be peacemakers. We walked, knitted, talked, and prayed.

When we finished the round he asked if he might pray for me. Of course I said yes. The minister prayed the most beautiful prayer about my heart and life and how much God loves and values me. It was wonderful.

After thanking the minister I went to leave and noticed it was no longer raining and the sun was once again shinning. I wonder, did God direct my path into the usually closed church? (I’ve walked passed that church for years and never seen the door open.) Did He want a little word with me? Was I not listening to Him? Did He get my attention? Yes! yes! Yes!

In all your ways/walks submit to Him and He shall direct your paths. Proverbs 3:6

Blessed are the Peacemakers for they will be called children of God. Matthew 5:9

Side note: I can’t get my pictures to load. Grrrr! ( Peace Liz. :-) )

It’s My Birthday!

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It’s my birthday the morra
Hmm, what shall I do?
I’ll treat my Old self
To a pressie or two

I’ll go to the spa
For a polish and stuff
And if that don’t take long
I’ll get pummeled and buffed

Then I’ll get me some lunch
(A lovely fish-tea)
And a big slice of cake
Aye, that’ll dae me!

And when day has ended
I’ll be snug in my bed
Fluffy socks on my feet
A warm cap on my head

And I’ll think to myself
Then quietly say,
Thank you dear Lord
For this wonderful day!

Yes, Thank you dear Lord
For this wonderful day!

Don’t Worry About A Thing

Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? (Matt 6:27) Nope! We can chew our nails, wrap all the hairs of our head around our fingers until there is no hair left, and we can wear a trench in the floor, but none of that changes the worrying situation. All that does is flood our bodies with poisonous stress hormones and make us ill.

No, worrying is not the answer. Worrying is the enemy. It wears us out and keeps us down. God has given each of us the choice. We can chose to worry or not. I know, in the midst of a trial it’s really hard not to worry. How can we stop ourselves from worrying?

There is an answer. It so simple most folks miss it. The answer to worry is to seek first the kingdom and righteousness of God, then everything we need will be given to us. Don’t continually think about the problem. Take your mind, and focus it on the Word, knowledge, kingdom, and righteous ways of God. Fill your mind with the things of God. Lose yourself in Him and the worries will fade in His glory.

She Was Seven I Was Eight

monkatselfhelp

Maureen being Maureen stood her ground defiant. My Da grabbed her by the cardigan and said, “I’m gonna ask ye wan mare time an you better tell me the truth! Where did you get the Chinese ropes, the pencil, and the rubber?”

“Ah telt ye Da, Ah fun thum oan the spare grun, ye can ask ma pal!”

His big bony hand came flying from above and slapped her arse, once, (“Where’d ye get them?”) twice, and then half a dozen times.

“Ah laugh when ye hit me!” She responded, fire blazing from her bright red face and her brilliant green eyes. “Ah laugh! Hahaha!” She laughed louder and louder.

The hand still holding her cardigan pulled her across his knee and he spanked her again and again.

“Hahahaha, hahaha, yer no hurting me!” She goaded her face inches from the floor.

He gave her another few whacks and threw her toward the door. “Get tae yer bed, you’re getting nae dinner the night!”

Smirking she sorted her cardigan and went ben the room. I waited until it was safe and followed her. She was lying on our bed crying. “How dae ye always fight him I asked?”

Wiping her nose on the pillow-case she answered, “Cause I’m no gonna let him get the better o me, that’s how!”

“Where did ye get the Chinese-ropes, the pencil, and the rubber?” I whispered.

“Ah stole them from Woolworth’s!” she shouted. We both started laughing.

Magnum Facere

The tree, winter, spring, summer or fall, ignored. Then the great drought dried out the earth and it’s roots loosed. It started with an unusual sound — The sound of a whale singing deep in the ocean, sort of like that, but much more eerie and not so beautiful. Then the tree began to lean forward and then lean a smidge to the right, and then to the left. I swear, it started to sway in the hot south wind like a very tall hula dancer obeying the call of the ukulele. Crazy tree!

I watched it sway ever wildly and yet somehow it remained upright. But then it’s heavy lower branches cracked under the strain, and it’s roots went flying up into the air, and it fell with a mighty thud. Blocking the sun and the moon and the stars, its shriveled foliage dropped creating a crisp brown blanket, which, on reflection, could be a good thing — mulching the thirsty soil. And, if nothing else, at least the worms had something to chew on. Of course that’s if there were any worms still alive.

Beginnings, a seed sent out a feeder, I can do this! said he imagining magnificence.
***************

Magnum Facere: To do something great.

Tears

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It rained today and tears fell
heavy on blood-drenched soil
The blood cried out to heaven
And heaven wailed, grieving the loss
Thunders roared and lightening cracked
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Great big tears fell heavy
And a tired little Robin flew away.

Lost In Translation

Do you remember the bible verse that says, for you cannot make even one hair of your head black or white? Well, I used to always laugh at that verse, usually when I was dying my hair, red, or blonde. It was seriously funny to me. Of course I could color my own hair! But, that was back in the day when I didn’t mind pouring and mixing all the smelly chemicals and applying them to lovely brown hair.

The fact that it was such a pain to do that whole process every four to six weeks never seemed to bother me, until recently. My hair is naturally silver (gray) now and coloring it is a real pain. Because no sooner have I colored it dark blonde with honey highlights when what seems like a few days later there’s half an inch of silver roots again!

In the last few years I’ve afforded myself the luxury of having my color done at beauty salons. I try to pick salons that are known for their amazing results. Funny thing though, the results I get are rarely that amazing. In fact I’ve often commented that I could have done better myself. Though I will admit Ive had some lovely results at salons.

The time before last I asked for my hair to be lightened slightly from the mid brown it was to more of a dark blonde. They bleached my hair white blonde! I was not a happy camper! After that fiasco I did my own color twice. Not great results, but acceptable. And then I decided last week that I’d give a new salon the chance to color my hair. I got a recommendation from a friend and thought, how could anything possibly go wrong? Dumb question. Of course things can go wrong.

I showed the stylist a photograph and clearly told her what I wanted. She responded by saying that she thought my hair had a sort of green tone to it and that it needed to be a little warmer. Right there! Right there! I should have listened to what she said and ran for the hills. But, I took the time to try to understand what she was meaning.

“Well, do you like your hair ashy?” she asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay then, what you’re going to need is a base retouch, then highlights and lowlights. But you have really beautiful silver hair, if you wanted to grow that out there’s a way to do it so that you never have those root demarcation lines. We blend the highlights and the lowlights and your gray is blended and disappears.”

I’m like, “really? I’d love to grow them out like that.”

“Okay then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll do just the highlights and the lowlights and your grays will be blended in with them.”

She mixed and painted, and folded foils, and let me sit for fifteen minutes. Then she brushed a tint onto the hair she’d left out of the foils. I sat for ten minutes. Then she pulled the foils from my head and rinsed it. And then she blow-dried my hair.

I sat there and watched the horror of my new color unfold before my eyes. Not only was the color the absolute worse dull brown I’d ever seen, it had big blocks of lighter dull-brown on the right and none on the left. But the absolute worst was that big patch of gray was still exactly as it had been before she started. I couldn’t believe it. Her reaction to my dismay was, ‘But yes, don’t you remember I told you that the gray would need to grow about two and a half inches more before you could actually see the blending technique work? I was lost for words. I paid my bill and left.

When I got home and hubby saw my new color. He wanted to march me right back to the salon to get my money back. Or he wanted her to do the job I paid for. But my thinking was she was under no stress the first time she colored my hair and look at the results. Can you imagine what the result would be under the stress of a do-over? No thanks.

Which brings us back to God and His wonderful sense of humor. I can just hear Him laughing and saying, didn’t I tell you you couldn’t make a hair black or white?   
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After all, you cannot make one hair black or white… Matthew 5:36

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