Tuesday, November 28, 2006
I am in one of those seasons right now, and I am *feeling* hard-hearted - darned hard-hearted! Shame on me, whom God has forgiven so much!
Please pray for me that God will grant me an abundance of grace to forgive from my heart everyone whom I need to forgive, especially those He is dealing with me about at this present time.
I realize that forgiving others is not a "one time only" thing. Some of these dear folks, I've had to make repeated acts of my will to forgive over the years, but every now and then the struggle is harder to put up against residual bitterness and resentment. This current season is an important hurdle for me to get over (by the grace of God) at this stage of my spiritual journey. I am finding it hard.
Thank you for even a brief prayer.
I am thankful that God is kind all of the time, and that His kindness is not limited by things like a poor night of sleep, migraine headaches, PMS (!!!), the weather, or any of the things that make me more prone to being unkind.
I am thankful that God loves me and you all of the time – not just if, when, or because we are doing “good” things or having a good day.
But especially, I am thankful that God does not have PMS. Because if He did, He would wipe out the entire universe in one fell swoop like I feel like doing this week. :) ::tongue in cheek::
While I have to watch out for the Eggnog Weight Gaining Devils, I did just snack on a bowl of creamy Edy's premium Vanilla Bean ice cream TOPPED WITH NUTMEG. It was delightful. :: burp::
Now off with me to Google a Nutmeg Cookie recipe or two, or to make up my own.
Monday, November 27, 2006
For those of us who've outgrown Monty Python's Flying Circus and who prefer something ... cleaner yet even funnier... I highly recommend that we check some Wodehouse books and videos out from our local libraries. *Note: Columbia House DVD Club does carry some of the DVDs of Wodehouse Playhouse. I am hoping that Santa will bring me Season Two for Christmas, as the local library doesn't have it. Then again, seeing as how I am avoiding going inside the library this flu season, I will probably be Netflixing again come New Year's Day... so, I guess I will just Netflix the series.
2006 has been the year of my going deeper, deeper, and deeper into my lifelong love of almost all things British. It has truly been a year of major Anglophilia Fever for me. I enjoy British books, movies, television, and other things so much that I fear that I would be sorely disappointed in the real thing, if you know what I mean is. I always heard when I was growing up how polite the British were. Now I hear they are incredibly rude! I don't know who to believe! I surmise that the Britain I love lives only in my imagination. Oh well. At least it lives there. And who knows but what I might be a pessimist and a cynic, and someday might be delightfully surprised that Britain is even better than I'd thought.
In any event, the Britain I love will be there in Heaven. That's one of the things I enjoy thinking about. Even when things we enjoy on this earth disappoint us while we are in our “earth suits”, the true, good, lovely, beautiful, joyful, marvelous, wonderful things that are the true essence of what we love will be fully present in Heaven. The good that we enjoy and love is only a dim reflection of God's wonder, and in Heaven it shall be fully revealed for us to enjoy for all of Eternity, with our Daddy Father.
This year, I felt Grammy's absence more than ever before. I was filled with remembrances of all the many things she did to make Thanksgiving such a special family time: sumptuous feasts, family traditions, and my favorite donuts for breakfast every morning of the weekend. Most of all – her dear smile, which she beamed on each of us no matter how weary she was nor how sore her aching feet. God rest the soul of Grammy. I still miss her.
This year, the “crud” hit me a month earlier than usual, and with a vengeance. I was not exactly possessed of an exceedingly thankful spirit this past week, being so sick and tired and achy. I made little acts of my will to thank God for His blessings on my life – and even for permitting some of the trials (I am not enough of a saint to thank Him for permitting all of the trials!), and I rest in the assurance that my sacrifice of thanksgiving might be more precious to Him than if I were all full of warm fuzzy feelings.
Let's keep this in mind, my dear friends in Christ, that when times are difficult, our feeble little prayers to our Abba – our Heavenly Daddy – are the most precious to Him and increase in worth. He sees and knows and understands our trials and struggles and pains and fears and sorrows ever so much better than we ourselves do, and like a good parent of a toddler, He cheers us on as we take each step, with indulgent affection and Fatherly pride. When we are crippled, limping, or lame, He cheers us on and rejoices in our little baby love offerings all the more, and He scoops us up in His great, strong arms and carries us.
As someone I know used to say, “He knows.”
Thank You, dear Abba, that You know.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Been cleaning up some stuff on my computer before heading to bed to read something, and have been listening to an 80's music station on Launchcast Plus (aside from the frustrations associated with Yahoo/Verizon, I find the extras worth it). Been listening to Jangle Rock, New Wave, and Power Pop - especially to The Romantics and Tommy Tutone. Time travel treat again - back to when I was in my mid teens to early twenties.
Well, time to do a virus scan and hit the hay. Happy Sunday. I hope and pray all y'all will have a blessed Lord's Day.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Next month on December 14th, it will mark my 26th "anniversary" of having CFIDS and fibromyalgia. I had just barely turned 16 when I got leveled with a monstertruck case of mononucleosis (which, for the record, I did have a lot of fun getting. Little did I know that it would rob me of having fun for many years to come!). One night I was a rambunctious, fun-loving, life-of-the-party teenager. The next morning I woke up sicker than hell, and I haven't been the same since. Some days I don't remember who I used to be B.C.F.S. (Before CFS). I feel like I *am* this awful illness. But dammit all, I am not going to let it win in the end!
The Center for Disease Control is FINALLY coming out with a large publicity campaign this fall and winter aimed at educating the public and the medical profession that CFIDS is NOT a psychiatric illness, that there are ten to twenty genetic aberrations in people with CFS/CFIDS, that we are NOT "malingerers", and also that our suffering is comparable to that of AIDS, COPD, renal failure, and a few other very not fun diseases.
I've waited nearly twenty six years to be vindicated by the medical community, and it feels GRAND. It takes a load off. And allow me to say to my fellow fibro/CFS sufferers: Hang in there, kiddies! The research is getting HOT and CURES will be coming our way before we can whip the covers off of our Celebrex bottles!
Anyway, to my praying friends, when you think of me, please offer one of those two second golden arrow prayers that I will stick to my physical therapy exercises, even though it is likely to be a two steps forward/one step back dealie. I am NOT going to let this foolish illness win! Take that! En garde! (she says as she whips her Theraband at the fibro devils!)
Now, off with me to brush my toofies. Good night, John Boy.
Tonight was the first time I made it all the way through the movie, and with the sound on as well. (I'm an aural person; it's the sound of whips and the cat of nine tails from the scourging that got to me the worst - it's even harder for me than seeing the blood).
Instead of focusing on the nice, warm-fuzzy things we Americans tend to feel and express gratitude for at Thanksgiving each year (and I'm certainly not pooh-poohing that!), may I humbly and gently suggest to anyone who's reading this that we each spend some time during/near Thanksgiving focusing on meditating on what Jesus did for each of us personally by suffering and dying for us - maybe even watch the movie. Because when it's all said and done, it's the most important, precious, wonderful gift possible. Taking time to contemplate what Jesus suffered for me and for you is a way of putting life in perspective, and also of enhancing our regular Thanksgiving practices.
Thank You, Jesus for laying your life down for me...
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Here is a Picasa web album of some basket photos I took back in August of this year. Let's see if Blogger will cooperate with the HTML. :)
Enjoy, my fellow Basketeers! :)
In just over a month, it will be four years since I acquired Kiki Thomas McFierceson, a large (neutered) male tabby cat from a friend who left for the seminary.
I love this cat. He is a dear, velvety teddy bear cuddler, and he has a very droll sense of humor. He also can always be counted on to know when I am sad, and comes running to sit by me with concerned looks at the first sounds of weeping from me. He is also an extreme Mama's Boy. I can't even go downstairs to the basement to do laundry without him following me down, looking very worried that I am leaving the house (in his mind, any door means that I am "leaving" him). He cries piteously when I go outside. This cat loves me, not only because I provide food for him, but because he thinks I give better back and tummy rubs than anyone else in the universe. Not to mention, he is smart enough to know that I will let him hog my bed at night if he's cold.
HOWEVER, recent weeks have found Kiki starting a new "behavior". Namely, if he poops in the bathroom litter box in the middle of the night, he seems to feel compelled to notify the entire household (especially ME!) of the fact that he has stunk up the joint. And Murphy's Law dictates that the more desperate I am for sleep, or especially the sweeter the dream I am dreaming and the less I want to be awakened, the more likely it is that Kiki Thomas McFierceson will yowl a smugly proud cat aria outside my door. (Imagine Pavarotti as a 23 pound tenor tomcat, singing "I have stunk up the place! And I'm darned proud of myself! Cannot you smell my stink?! It is so marvelous!!" to the tune of "Dona Immobile" (spelling), the famous aria from the opera Rigoletto.
Obviously, this cat cannot stand the smell of his own poop!
While I would rather keep the litter boxes free of... debris than I would change baby diapers, still it's a challenge sometimes! To you moms and dads out there, keep in mind that babies are only in diapers for a limited number of years. Cats, however, ALWAYS need someone to clean their litterboxes at least a couple of times daily.
And now that I'm done venting about The Cat Who Woke Me Up, I will try to go back to sleep.
At least I don't have to take a dog outside in the rain.
... let go of discouragement. I mean, actively let it go. Don't just make a feeble mental note that you will try to not give into discouragement. I mean, drop discouraging thoughts like they are hot potatoes, and back off from gloom like it is a bomb. Run. Flee! Do not take the poison of discouragement into your mind and soul and heart and spirit... and body. That's what discouragement is: POISON. It not only makes us unhappy in and of itself, it also causes us to sin by weakening our trust in God's complete and utter goodness, by tempting us to doubt that He will bring about plans for our good. Poison! Poison! Poison! Don't take it! It's literally suicide to give into discouraging thoughts.
Now is the time to...
... let go of self-imposed false guilt/wrongfully high expectations of ourselves. I mean actively let it go! Drop it! Drop it! Drop it! It's another time bomb from the enemy. Stop punishing yourself for all the things you think you're screwing up on/not measuring up to. Have you talked to God about what HE thinks of you, instead of listening to the devil's internal podcasts? Do you realize that NO ONE has anything - talents, gifts, etc. to give anyone unless God gives those talents and gifts, and do you realize that God's love doesn't depend on whether you have all those talents and gifts? Do you realize that even if you were comatose and unable to "do things", God would still love you - in fact, He would love you all the more tenderly because you were little and helpless and in need of His love? Do you realize that maybe God isn't calling you to do the gazillion and twelve things that you think you should be doing to serve Him/others and which you stress out over? Do you realize that God is not a hard taskmaster? That He delights in simplicity and childlikeness? That His love is not based on the Achievement-Meter?
I pray for all of us today that we will generously, appropriately, immediately respond to God's grace to accept His free gift of love. That we may bask in His total acceptance of us despite our sins. That we may realize and embrace more and more and MORE how much He loves us for who we are - His children. And that, as it says in the Old Testament, He holds us up to His cheek as a beloved infant.
Be gone, Satan, you hard taskmaster who lies and tells us we're never good enough for God or others. You are a liar. Get out of here.
Come, Holy Spirit of Truth, and reveal to each of us individually that You and the Father and Jesus see EVERYTHING we do - every tiny, even feeble movement towards obeying and loving You, and that Abba, like the true loving Daddy that He is - DELIGHTS in us, in our little baby steps toward holiness. That He delights in who we are. That He sees and understands and knows how hard it is sometimes to do His will, but that He recognizes that what seems like a tiny step toward holiness is really a giant step.
Abba, let us feel you holding us up to Your cheek like a beloved infant. Love on us, Lord. Help us to soak in Your love so much that there won't be a snowball's chance in Hades of our giving into discouragement.
Jesus, we know that "faith without works is about as useless as a screendoor on a submarine" (to quote Rich Mullins), but help us to remember that our works are a response to You loving us first.
(preaching to myself here, gang!)
Brother's Keeper Radio Special 1995 Copyright ?
Found at: http://kidbrothers.net/words/interviews/brothers-keeper-radio-special-oct95.html
Transcript by Mike H. Barlowe
*Please Support Dave and Robin Mullins and the Kid Brothers of St. Frank with your prayers and to see how else your support can be vital go to the website at www.kidbrothers.org
*Please support the Legacy! Also, enjoy radio with a spiritual bent and Rich Mullins exclusives at http://legacyministry.org/
I have to say that I like the Cape Light series even better than Jan Karon's Mitford series (though Ms. Karon writes with a bit more humor and wit). One of the main things I like about Cape Light is that it shows that real Christians still have real problems - none of that prosperity gospel baloney that seeps into some Christian literature falsely leading readers to believe that once the main characters pray The Sinner's Prayer, all will be suddenly be magically rosy and smooth sailing.
In the Thomas Kinkade/Katherine Spencer books, it shows the characters working through problems with God's help. Granted, it's definitely not Pulitzer Prize winning literature, but it's a good read.
Still waiting for my fellow Catholics to get off of their lazy literary behinds to start writing some decent fiction like in the days of G.K. Chesterton and J.R.R. Tolkien. There is a wealth of Catholic spirituality which could be shared with the world in a non-smarmy, non-threatening, non-boring way which would help all of us - Catholics AND non-Catholics, live better lives... and enjoy a good read while we're at it. Would that some of the writers at Catholic Exchange would dabble in a bit of fiction instead of "just" theology and politics. Can I get a witness?! LOL
If I could ever cure myself of run on sentences, I would attempt a book of my own.
Well, enough of me for tonight. Time to watch a movie. Haven't been doing much of that lately.
Isn't that the way it goes with most of us? We suffer temptations to do evil in a myriad of ways due to the suffering and testing we undergo, and then somehow, we begin to get angry at God for allowing the tests - no - we succumb to the enemy's lies that God is "out to get us" - and then we get very, very angry at Him. Which is just what the enemy wants - for us to get angry at God. And then the icing on the devil's cake is to get us to believe that God is angry at us, which only serves to make us angrier and more rebellious toward Him.
But God is not angry at me just because I have fallen into the trap of being angry at Him. He sees me as a sick and feeble little lamb who's gotten her fleece dirty and full of thorns and brambles and possibly (probably) some manure. What's more, with infinite patience, He tenderly picks the thorns and brambles out of my fleece, all the while with sweet love in His eyes, and He sings songs of deliverance over me. He loves me because He loves me. He loves me because I am His.
He is my Good Shepherd, and He comes to rescue me from the mucky pool of anger at Him. He is not angry at me. He sees things in the situation that I do not perceive or understand. Even if friends and family "judge" me for sporting an attitude against God, He knows more about the situation than all of us put together. And He has compassion. This doesn't mean that He brooks any nonsense from me - He does call me to repent - but He does so with gentleness, compassion, and mercy.
A kind word from God to encourage me that He sees and understands and knows and cares what I am going through goes a lot further toward getting me to cease sinning by my anger at Him than a multitude of people telling me to quit my bitching. It works a lot better for me than a spiritual spanking or a hard smack upside the head.
Abba, help me to remember that You love me even at my worst. Perhaps ESPECIALLY when I am at my worst. Help me to see through Satan's lies and to not entertain the thought of giving into them for even an instant.
You are great,
You are good,
You are all I need.
Listen, I've got a ton of stuff. I'm not wealthy by American standards, but in comparison to a lot of people, I have a lot of toys and clothes and knick knacks and goodies. And the stoopid thing is, I am finding myself forever trying to accumulate MORE things.
Kiddo *I say to myself* she who dies with the most toys certainly does not win. In fact, she who "lives" with the most toys is not necessarily really living.
I am making a resolution to concentrate on making God my happiness and joy, and then after that, focus on truly and deeply enjoying some of my goodies. Like my digital camera and my books and CDs.
It's no wonder this world is so ADD. I'm not saying that there isn't such a real, genuine physiological condition as ADD/ADHD, but I am thinking that most of us non-diagnosed-but-running-around-like-chickens-with-our-heads-cut-ff people would prolly feel a lot better if we simplified.
I'm probably the last person in the world to go Franciscan, but I am going to make an effort to not commit idolatry any longer by worshiping at the altar of materialism and consumerism. Please pray for me about that. I enjoy my toys and my goodies - and you know what - I think GOD enjoys that I enjoy my toys and my goodies - so long as I put HIM first and so long as I'm not attached to those things.
This will be my Advent penance - to renounce going on Retail Therapy sprees. I don't have that much money, but I do engage in Retail Therapy. Shame on me. I've got so much good stuff at home, I really don't NEED anything more. Why do I so often get greedy and think I need/want MORE STUFF?!!? More stuff means more responsibility, more having to take care of, etc. Yikes.
Okay, enough of me. I am PMSed and I need a cup of coffee, and I need to engage in some couch time with Jesus, and then to have some fun baking bread today before I get out the Christmas tree. *Makes note to greedy little self that we do NOT need any more new ornaments this year!*
For the record, I'm not preaching at any of you. I am preaching at myself. I am posting these thoughts in a protected post, knowing that I can count on my friends to pray for me even just a two second prayer that I will take seriously my (early) Advent resolution to not be greedy and covetous. Because man, in Ephesians, St. Paul lumps fornicators and coveters into the same sentence as being people who will not go to Heaven. Scary.