Story Time

I usually write on Fridays but, my computer was acting wonky yesterday.  It wouldn’t let me write without freezing up. That is not unusual, as my laptop is probably in its final days. Sigh.

 

So anyway……

 

I am attempting to type up my blog entry from yesterday. Slowly but surely.

 

On Lisa-Jo’s Five Minute Friday, the word was:  STORY

 

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English: Picture of an open book, that does no...

 

 

 

Everyone has a story.  I love to listen to stories…finding out about people,

 

how they got to be where they are…

 

and how they got to be who they are.

 

Chapters of interesting and not so interesting dialogue.

 

All stories pretty much start out the same way.  A baby, new to this world. Starting out fresh.

 

The pages of the story clean and crisp.

 

Then life happens. Pages sometimes get torn. Soiled by the day to day. Bent and dog-earred.

 

Highlighted and underlined. Pages memorized and other parts scribbled through.

 

Stained from chocolate fingers and stained from falling tears.

 

Happy parts and silly parts and sad parts and terrible parts.

 

The story continues on.

 

The chapters grow.

 

Until that last moment when the book is closed.

 

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Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.  Lamentations 3:22-23  NIV

 

 

 

 

 

o, now be brave, set your timer, clear your head, for five minutes of free writing without worrying about getting it right.

OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on the word:::

Story…

GO

– See more at: http://lisajobaker.com/#sthash.tkI7zV4Z.dpuf

 

 

So, now be brave, set your timer, clear your head, for five minutes of free writing without worrying about getting it right.

OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on the word:::

Story…

GO

– See more at: http://lisajobaker.com/#sthash.tkI7zV4Z.dpuf

Good Bye

This 16 mm spring-wound Bolex "H16" ...

Want to play Five Minute Friday? It’s easy peasy!

@The Gypsy Mama

1. Write for 5 minutes flat on the prompt- no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Meet & encourage someone who linked up before you.

OK, are you ready? Give us your best five minutes on:  Good Bye

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Okay, so the movie is kinda of corny….but, it is one of my favorites anyway.  I’m a sap when it comes to movies that pull the heart strings. Love ’em, that’s just how I roll.

One of my favorite quotes from the movie comes at the very end. The main character’s mother had died earlier that year…..

That’s what momma always says. She says that beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up. And it will…

True, huh? Endings usually are sad. Good byes often hurt….especially if they are good byes with no hope of a new hello.

The reason good bye hurts is because of love.

If we don’t love, than a good bye doesn’t have the same sting.

The same longing to not go.

The want for one more minute, one more day….

one more chance.

Love Never Gets Old

English: a love heart in water

Love never gets old

My son’s words echoed in my heart just as soon as they left his mouth. Wisdom from my boy-man.

At the time, we were goofing around……as we have done ever since he was born, almost 17 years ago.

Times of silliness in amongst the trials of this life.

And isn’t that true? And what we all long for?

Love. Simply, love. The need for love doesn’t get old, or dry up, or go away.

Longing to know that we are valued, important to another. It is necessary… for truly

living.

Sifting through the day to day to find what is true. Real. Intangible.

Scripture tells us,  “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13 NIV

More than just an emotion that is fickle at best. More than slick advertisements, or self gratification.

Love is sacrifice.

Always.

It is in the giving away that love becomes real. It is in the laying down of personal gain, or self promotion that allows love to flourish.

Love is at it’s greatest when we are least.

Love is…

* holding tight to newborn skin and feeling your heart living outside of your body

* holding a hand when your dear friend just received news that would rip her world wide open

* appreciating what was done for you, to allow you to be where you are right now

* wiping tears from the face of a child that is hurting and just holding him/her

* forgiving those words that were said in anger, and realizing that sin is real and we all are tainted

* starting over because we all need a second chance

* laying side by side, and feeling the warmth that two bodies create

* touching a face and memorizing the contours in your heart

* knowing another intimately, and choosing to love them anyway

* saying “I’m sorry” or “I was wrong”, even when it’s difficult. Words matter and water runs deep, and it is never necessary to drown in that pride.

* sacrificing time, for time is all we have…and it is valuable beyond measure

* setting aside the “I want”  for the “what can I do for you?”

* being the servant and not always the master

* real…when one can look past the facade to the spirit inside

* reaching out and grasping for another that is stronger

Love is all these things…and more.

“Le Prix d’ Amour, C’est Seulement Amour.”   (“The price of love is simply… love.”)

The View From My Front Porch

The view this morning.

I watched the dark being overtaken by the light.

Vivid pinks and purples…

Making way for the sun…

 Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
 They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.   Lamentations 3:22-23  NIV

All The Chapters In Between

Ballpoint pen writing. Streaks of ink are visi...

Image via Wikipedia

I love cards.

I was recently looking through the Max Lucado line of Day Spring cards. I have been a fan of Mr. Lucado’s writing for many years. I believe he writes some of the best word pictures, and I enjoy looking at the world through his eyes.  One of the cards I was browsing, had this quote from him.

There is more to your life than you ever thought. There is more to your story than what you have read.– Max Lucado

Most of us go through our days wondering about our story. When will things change? Why am I here? How in the world am I supposed to do this? Who am I, really? Where am I headed? What is my purpose?

We all pretty much know when our story began, none of us really know when our story will end, and we all long for the chapters in between to mean something.

Some days I’m stuck in a chapter in the middle of the book. It’s difficult to see where the story is going. I know the plot doesn’t always seem to make sense…at least not to me.

That’s the thing…

I have to remind myself that I am not the writer of the book.

Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be….. Psalm 139:16  NIV

God knew my story before the first sentence was written on my life…and He knows your story too. You can rest assured that you are not forgotten. Your story will never end up in the clearance bin, marked down, or given away for free.

You were bought for a high price.

Your story is part of a bigger story…written by the Creator. He is The Alpha and The Omega…The Beginning and The End…..

and all the chapters in between.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

 

 

Written In My Own Hand

Pen & Journal

Image by Bob AuBuchon via Flickr

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~ William Wordsworth

The leather bound book feels smooth in my hands. I open it to the page, after my last entry. The white emptiness awaits my pen.

I’ve kept journals my entire life. For me, there is something therapeutic  about putting feelings, thoughts, experiences down on paper. I like to express myself with words on the page. I’ve had people say to me that they could never keep a journal….because they would be afraid that someone would read their journals, or family would read them after he/she is gone.  My thought is, read them! READ THEM. I hope my family reads all my boxes of  journals. I think they will see that I was a real person, with real issues, joys and sorrows. I had dreams and I tasted grief. I was sometimes goofy and yet a deep thinker.

*In eighth grade I wrote poetry and doodled hearts in the margins of my journal. I practiced different styles of handwriting to see which one was the most beautiful. I wrote of the seasons and time.

*In college I wrote letters to my boyfriend. I’m reminded of some of the deep issues we discussed on paper. (yes, the 80’s were still pre-personal PC days)  I could hold my own in a debate.

*As a college graduate I wrote about my search for a job and my desire to teach. Once I landed my first job, I wrote about my days as a teacher, and my students that made it all worth while.

*I wrote as a newlywed, learning how to share my life with another.

*I began to write a journal to my son when I was only five months pregnant with him. I wanted him to know that he was loved from before he was even born.

*I wrote a journal of grief, for the whole year after my first husband died.

*I wrote when I was a single parent. The joys and the heartaches.

*I wrote when I started dating again. Dating in one’s mid 30’s is a lot different than dating in one’s early 20’s. Just sayin’.

*I wrote to my new husband. Of course, my witty banter won him over….along with my amazing email skills and my otherwise complete lack of knowledge of computers. (Giggle)

*I continue to write in my prayer journal. I pour out my heart to the One who knows and understands…my soul bleeding out on each page.

Each day I etch words into time. I write how I am feeling at that moment. The ups and downs of my life. The bubbled up laughter spilling out in joy. The anguish of dreams not met.

I love writing.  I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.  ~James Michener

 

 

Simply Love…

Love for Arts

Image via Wikipedia

“Le Prix d’Amour, C’est Seulement Amour.”

The price of love, is simply…love.


Family. Unconditional love. Safe and secure.

Growing up, I never doubted love.

I was seventeen.

He held my hand. We shared a kiss.

The sweet tenderness of young love.

I was a young woman dressed in white, a young man at the end of the aisle.

We faced each other and declared our love.

Until death do us part.

The nurse handed the wrinkled bundle of baby boy to me.

I, as mother, looked at my newborn and love enveloped my heart.

Love tries again. Second chances are real. I step out into love.

Love for those I surround myself with.

Agape for my fellow man.

Love and thanksgiving to God.

….And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love. (I Corinthians 13 :13)

 

Journaling About Life

Journal Delamétherie

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On Wednesday, June 1, 2005 I wrote this in my journal:

(I am sure I copied this from something but, I’m not sure where I got it from.)

It is much easier to do something than to trust in God; we mistake panic for inspiration.

God’s Spirit continually reveals what human nature is like apart from His grace.

I am a “keeper of the journal”. I always have been. I’m a writer in my heart. I’ve written my thoughts—and when inspired—the thoughts of others in my journals. I think the earliest journals I have are of the secrets of an 11 year old. I smile when I look back at the Dawn of yesteryear. In my adult years my journals have been a great source of peace for me. Many of my journal entries have turned into prayers. They have become my conversations with God. As I look back I realize that God, Himself ,has chosen to talk with me through my journals too. And yes, God does talk through the written Word. He has given us His own journal, of sorts. He tells us about Himself, His character and actions. He tells us how He interacted in this world, and what is to come.  His journal is called the Bible.

Many times in my journal entries I will write down scripture references that pertain to where I am at in my life at that time. I will copy snippets of pastor’s sermons, or something I’ve read in an inspirational book. As I look back through my journals I am acutely aware of how God has chosen to work in my life. It is laid out before me like a map of words.  Even though I will probably never be famous, and my name will never be in lights… I’ll most likely never travel to exotic ports, or invent  the newest electronic gadget, I still have had a good life. Not always an easy life…but a good one.

When reading my “life map” I realize that God was with me when, as a fresh faced, just out of college, young adult, I was searching for a job. Through a course of events, over miles, and across state lines He brought me to a tiny town in the Appalachian mountains to teach. I would have never found this place on my own. God’s hand print was all over it. I wrote in my journal…..” God, You know I want to teach. I believe You want me to teach. Doors to job opportunities, here in my home state, are closing. I’m giving my job situation over to You. I’ll go where ever you want me.”

When I found out that I was pregnant. What joy! I started journaling about it right away. Before my son even took his first breath, before he was fully formed, I took the opportunity to journal to him about how much he was loved. I thanked God and recognized that He knew my son even before I did. ” I knit you together in your mother’s womb….I know all your days before one of them even comes to be.”

Or when at the age of 32 I was forced to walk “through the valley of the shadow of death”. My late husband died just three weeks after his 34th birthday. In my journal I poured out my heart. There were days that all I could do was cry to Him. He replied with, ” I am a Father to the fatherless and a defender of widows.”  If God is my defender….well, that is saying a lot. God gave me opportunities even in widowhood. No, I have to be honest, this wasn’t the road that I had planned for myself. Still, whatever road I found myself on God was already there.  There was peace in that.

I journaled/prayed my way into my new marriage. As I wrote I asked God to please not allow any man to be in my path that was not part of His plan. I didn’t want anything to do with any man that would cause me heartache or pain.   There were nights when I was lonely. There were nights when I wanted to give in. God heard me. I wrote prayers, pouring out my heart to Him. He chose to have me in widowhood for five years before bringing Scott into my life.

Scott and I have been through a lot in our 4 years of marriage. Selling houses, building a new house, home schooling, moving out of state, making new friends, finding a new church, raising three children in a blended family, plus adult children. At times it is stressful. And frustrating.And happy. And crazy.  Sometimes I feel like I spend most of my time running around trying to get things done—-and wondering if I am making any real difference. I recently wrote in my journal: “So many times I feel like Martha. Distracted by all she had to get done. (Luke 10:38-42) Things having to get done because no one else will do it!  Lord, You told Martha that Mary chose what was better–to be with You.   Help me Lord, to get proper perspective.”

I have had people tell me that they could never journal or blog like I do. They’d be scared to “put it out there” for others to read. I know that God has given me a love of words. Sounds weird to think of that as a gift or talent, huh? I hope my journals are read by my children and grandchildren and their children one day. I hope that recording my personal walk will help them to not only understand me better, but more importantly to understand and know the Lord that I have a relationship with. I have many people that read my blog, from countries around the world. I have no idea whose life I am touching with my words…..but, if just one thing I write makes a difference than it is worth it.