Sometimes I stay up quite late just so I can let my mind run away from the real, and approach subjects that I would much rather touch, or certainly feel.
Then there are times when I lengthen the day just to wrestle free from the noise, you know, to get out from under the distractions, and that which just annoys.
So, what. So I can prove that, maybe, something good happens after midnight, and I descend to the depths of thought, just to get to the core, then I sit and write. Continue reading
I don’t need science to tell me that meditation repairs brain matter
Just bow your head and talk to Him, void of all the societal chatter
See, there are places all around you can find a spot filled in silence
Here, at least for now, my walk and talk with Jesus, is my license
Go to some quiet place, exhale, bow in reverence, and just pray
List every little thing you are thankful for if you need words to say
Ask with respect, Lord please give me direction in these areas of life
Better yet, kneel beside your bed together, praying, husband and wife
Then maybe look inside yourself, find the hidden, and set it free
Talk with Him about it, all of it, don’t open your eyes, and you’ll see
It’s okay to ask Him for help here, where else would you rather go
There’s always an answer whether we understand or not, God knows
Which came first the Power of the Almighty or the power of repentance
I know it changes hearts, much less the obvious, our countenance
Pray at length for our leaders instead of complaining about him or her
We all long for the way that it was, so bend a knee, that’s how we were
Bring your grievances to the bench of the Supreme Judge in humility
Don’t carry them another day, have faith, it’ll be better for you, and we
It’s heard across this great land less and less, God Bless the USA
Maybe we’re the problem, let’s find a place, bow our heads, let’s pray
I started this post back in October (2015) and I have posted several pictures from this trail in a slide show, but I wanted to single out some of those photos even more, so I picked this up where I left off…
Oct. 26, 2015
…In doing some research online, looking for some local trails to pursue, I came across the Kuncanowet Town Forest and Conversation Area. I am so glad that I did. This area is, in my opinion, breathtakingly beautiful. I haven’t even explored all of it yet, and I am taken by its overall setting and beauty. Thanks also to Dunbarton Hikes for the useful videos I found on YouTube. God-willing, I will be back in these woods again soon. Enjoy my attempts to capture the magnificent through the lens of my camera; it’s better in person.
Lost Lake: I sat here to pray, to reflect, and really just respect. 1inawesomewonder ©
There was more beauty around than I could capture in a dozen visits. 1inawesomewonder ©
Coming in to Lost Lake. 1inawesomewonder ©
Photo opportunities were in every direction. 1inawesomewonder ©
Welcome to the warmth of this passageway. 1inawesomewonder ©
There is something to be said for the treasure found following the straight and narrow. 1inawesomewonder ©
Ahhh, to sit here in silence, allowing time and space their effect. 1inawesomewonder ©
Walking through this country always brightens my outlook. 1inawesomewonder ©
Lest we forget.
Please remember what Memorial Day is about.
Give this a listen…pretty cool.
I came across this and had to share it. Short, sweet, to the point. Accurate.
“If your parents had to use a wooden spoon on you, then they clearly didn’t know how to parent you.”
Yep. I got that email last night after I posted my blog. I honestly had to laugh. Here was a stranger criticizing my parents. I tend to think they did a pretty good job. They raised three, well-rounded children. One is a successful HR exec, one is a journalist and the other is a doctor. Clearly they did something right.
And let’s be real for a minute, it wasn’t all about a wooden spoon. It was about manners and respect.
I went home and was talking to my husband about it. He said, “This is why we have a generation of entitled kids.”
I repeated that earlier today and someone asked in shock: “How could you say something like that?!”
Because I have seen it first-hand.
At my last job, there was a young woman who was interning with our station. She showed up to work one day wearing extremely short shorts and a halter top. To work. Our news director at the time said, “You have two options…you can run home and get changed and come back…or you can just go home.” Her response came quickly and loudly: “WHO THE F@#K ARE YOU TO TALK TO ME LIKE THAT? YOU CAN’T TELL ME TO GO HOME!!”
Ahh…and there it is. The entitlement coming out. The “I have never been told no because I want to be your friend…let me give you a trophy because you signed up to play soccer even though you never come to practice, only games…I’m not going to give you a grade on this test because I don’t want you to think you’re a failure, even though you don’t study…you’re going to sit in time-out and then we will discuss why you called your mom the B-word…I can post anything I want on social media because I have freedom of speech…I won’t be held accountable at school because my parents will come and yell at the teacher for me.”
I will say it until I am blue in the face: I am thankful I was raised the way I was raised in the era I was raised in. We used the terms ma’am and sir…we said please and thank you…we wouldn’t dare look at our parents cross-eyed…if we didn’t study, we failed…if we didn’t go to practice, we didn’t play in the game…if we didn’t win, we didn’t get a trophy…if we talked back to our parents, we got the back of my mom’s hand to our mouths…if we used a bad word, we got soap in our mouths…if we acted up in school, our parents were called to the principal’s office and we served detention…if we didn’t like our dinner, then we didn’t eat…if we were late for curfew, we were grounded…if we lied, we had our toys taken away…if we misbehaved in the neighborhood, our neighbors would discipline us…if we didn’t get hired for a job, then we weren’t who they wanted.
We weren’t handled with kid gloves. Our parents let us fall so we learned how to get back up. We were told the word “NO” and told it often. It wasn’t about our parents being “our friends.” It was tough love. Why? Because they knew how tough the world is.
I’m over the “entitlement era.”
I’m nowhere near a perfect parent. I learn something new everyday. But I do know…I want to raise my kids the way I was. Because I don’t want to send spoiled, entitled brats into the world.
There is only one thing I knew: whatever my parents did…worked.
And guess who my best friends are now? Yep. My mom and dad. The ones who were “so mean” growing up.
Pray pastor, please continue to pray, so I don’t have to raise my head or open my eyes. I wish not to wipe my eyes, nor do I care to address the shortness of breath accompanied with the quiet sobs rippling through me. For all the pain and suffering that surrounds me, I am okay here, safely seeking refuge in this old, friendly church. If this moment could just last forever, maybe I could return to my youth, playing out on the farm on a warm summer day. I could again, smell the sweet air that was found out there. Inside, my grandmother would be rolling out the materials to create those most wonderful home-made donuts, with our visit in mind. Down the old dirt road, my uncles would once again come. They were larger than life to me, so strong, so smart, so unafraid, and such Godly men who were an example to us all, maybe even more than they knew. My aunts would gather and nourishment was prepared in every shape and form. Hymns being sung could be heard waltzing through the air. Grampy would have kick started my day with the sweet aroma of bacon cooked on a wood stove, and probably shared a couple of tricks to resourceful farm living if I had been paying enough attention to him going about his day. Time would be moving just slowly enough to make sure that I would not lose these memories, nor would I forget the lessons learned among the greatest people I have ever known. Pray longer pastor, for here it’s safe and nothing hurts. Here there is love, all around me, and from above. In this row I sit with the nearest and the dearest from now and from times before me too. On all sides there is hope, there is admiration, and there is selflessness. I am praying with you pastor. Can we just pray a little more? I need prayer, we all do, and I sit here, head bowed, eyes closed, in reverence I pray too. Amen.
Posted in Family, Inspiration, Poetry, Religious, Sunday Series
Tagged 1inawesomewonder, bow your head, God, Godly men, pastor, Prayer, respect, reverence, Steve Beal Sr., tears
This morning is Veteran’s Day. In Canada it’s Remembrance Day. In my home we are honoring, remembering, respecting, and we are thankful for our Veteran’s, past, present, and future.
I am home with my three youngest children this morning and I want them to know what this means, and why we remember. A few minutes ago, my son came into the office and asked if I had just heard Theodore yelling. I said I had. He asked me if I knew why he was yelling so loud. I did not. He shared with me that the Star Spangled Banner had come on the TV in the family room, and that Theodore, on his own, sang “…of the brave” as loud as he could to end the Anthem.
A minute later Theodore pulled up a rocking chair beside me, and in the presence of his older brother, twin sister and I; he demanded silence as he attempted to sing the National Anthem on his own. It was adorable as he repeated a few lines here and there that were combined with other lines, but he gave it his best shot. He also knew that all should be quiet while he sang the song.
Then I played Madison Rising’s version of the Star Spangled Banner (which we all love). We played it a few times. Jacqueline held a little rhythm and pretended to sing the words, and we all enjoyed it, together.
But, more importantly, we recognize that among the reasons we have a morning like this to enjoy at all, is because the greatest forces of men and women in the history of mankind have defended our freedoms and beliefs. They were the best, they are the best, they will be the best. Most of us truly don’t have a clue as to what these brave men and women have endured, braved, and walked towards even when every fiber of their being would tell them to run the other way. For them, for all of them, I, we, are thankful. I wouldn’t even want to imagine it another way.
Our military, our armed forces, these fellow countrymen and women continue to do what is asked of them, day after day. Right, wrong, agreed, or disagreed, they go. They take each and every day seriously, and assume nothing. They go. They train. They are there. There are here, now. They are the best, and they still walk in harm’s way everyday. This day is not just about a time long ago, it’s about all times. It’s about times we haven’t yet experienced. It’s about times we are fortunate enough to not have experienced. Today is as important now as it would have been at any other time, or at any other time to come. A friend of mine who is very close to our military, recently made a comment to me after attending three military funerals in one day, to the effect of, wishing people understood how much warring is still going on. I don’t know which affected me more, the commentary itself, or the fact that this person (and so many others) deals with this kind of thing more often than a lot of us stop to even think about our men and women serving.
It’s Veteran’s Day. It’s Remembrance Day. Please take this time seriously. Mean what you say. Say what you mean. Either way, always remember. Always respect. Always be thankful. We have so much to be thankful for.
I have included below, a poem that came to me two years ago. I know it’s not the best verse ever, but it’s tied to strong emotions. I really did wake up in the middle of the night with most of the words to this little poem. Obviously, these thoughts are never far from my mind. It’s not the first time I awoke in thought on these matters, nor has it been the last.
REMEMBER
1inawesomewonder 