There’s another hole in my heart today, one that wasn’t there before.  What was there before was a space, a space filled perfectly by a dear lady that my friend and I visited in the nursing home.  We have been visiting her for a few years now, I can’t really say how many. Time has a way of passing by unnoticed until some event demands that we take notice.  Today was such an event; the death of this dear lady.  My Sunday afternoon friend, I could call her, though we visited her other times as well, but lately it had been mostly Sunday afternoons.

This sense of loss I’m feeling, has taken me by surprise.  Although, I guess we are never fully prepared to lose someone. I always think there will be one more time together.  And now, today, I know there won’t be, not here on earth anyway.  I feel the presence of the newly emptied space even as I realize I won’t be visiting her this afternoon.  Sunday afternoons will look different now.

How is it that I am so impacted by someone who didn’t know my name or what I did or anything about my life or me?  You see when we met,  just a few short years ago, this dear lady was already in the memory care unit of her facility.  We had no history together, had no shared experiences or family connections

And the same is true for me as well.  I never knew this dear lady other than as she was when I met her, in this particular season of her life.  I never knew her as the wife, mother, neighbor, co-worker, cook, gardener, pet owner and so much more that she certainly must have been before we ever met. She was unable to tell me of these things which had been her life experience and she had no need to know of the things that were mine.  We simply had relationship in the moments we were given each week.  We read from the Bible, what we discovered was her favorite Psalm, as well as other passages and watched God’s living Word do His work in her and in us. We sang hymns and learned which ones she loved to sing out with enthusiasm and joy.  We prayed with her and over her and saw the peace and comfort our prayers brought her and received her grateful thanks in return.    And so we became family of sorts in the short time given to us.

I suppose the idea was that my friend and I would be a blessing to this dear lady.  But somehow I was the one who felt blessed by God after each visit.  I was the one who tended to look forward to the visits,  she had no expectation that we were coming or not.  When did this turn from duty to privilege without my awareness?  Probably during the same time that the space in my heart had been created by and filled with this dear lady’s presence.

Her face would light up with recognition when she would first see us, she would greet us warmly and always thanked us for coming.  My friend always said this dear lady had a twinkle in her eyes, unless she wasn’t feeling well.  We saw her through a hospitalization, (from which she recovered)  and a move to a new facility most recently.  She always seemed to bounce back.

This dear lady was fulfilling God’s purposes for her still, in this season of her life. When we are a part of God’s story, our lives always have meaning and purpose even if we don’t see it or it’s not apparent to others. She could still tell her daughter that she loved her. She was teaching me compassion for and awareness of people who could easily be forgotten in this final season of their once vibrant and productive lives.  She was showing me that everyone has infinite worth in God’s eyes. Yes, God was still using her to accomplish His good purposes in any lives that came into contact with hers. I will miss her.

Today I’m feeling the emptiness in the space in my heart that was hers alone to occupy.   It will remain empty now, another hole in my heart; well worth the price of allowing another person a place in my life and heart.  The person whose life is well lived will have a heart that resembles swiss cheese as a testimony to all those who have been loved by him or her.  That is the price, unfilled holes in the heart.

Today I thank God for this dear lady, knowing how important she is to her Creator.  A sparrow fell today, was caught in the arms of Jesus and taken to the place He had been preparing for her all along.   I can rejoice!  I can mourn and I can rejoice at the same time.  Only with God is this possible.   thank you, Lord.

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father.  . . .  So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”    (Matthew 10:29-31)

sincerely,                         Grace Day

There are many things that qualify as the BANE of my existence but I’ll just share a few in the hope that you can relate and I’m sure you have some of your own that you’d like to add to the list.

First of all PASSWORDS (they are needed for anything and everything it seems and using the same password for everything seems to defeat the purpose of protecting me from whatever it is I need protecting from, which would be hackers, I presume?)

ROUNDABOUTS  (no explanation needed I assume?)

CHILD PROOF CAPS on medicine containers, (or on anything else for that matter),  litter boxes; (this one is self explanatory),  commercials during sporting events or any favorite TV program, (the commercial’s whole purpose is to interrupt my viewing at the precise moment when the action or dialogue is at its peak and my interest as a viewer is at its’ highest so that I will “stay tuned” of course),

ONE WAY STREETS,  when I urgently need to go the opposite way and my desired destination is even in sight but I can’t get there and must journey away from it rather than toward it.

AUTOMATED PHONE SYSTEMS,  where you cannot get a real, live person, even by pressing zero,  but are consigned to an infinite labyrinth of choices within the confines of the system, none of which will ever lead you to a real, live person should your reason for calling not fit into any category allowed (or maybe you just crave human conversation and the personal touch?  you want to know you’ve been heard)  warning: this particular “bane” may leave you frustrated, exhausted, screaming into your phone and regretting the time you’ve spent without a result to show for it.

STUDENTS WITH EARBUDS in both ears during class,  students on their phones during class, students impersonating other students

TAILGATERS (not the sports kind,  the kind in a car in traffic)

There are also many things in life that don’t BODE well and we would do well to take notice of them and spare ourselves, if that is possible, from their results.  Examples of these things abound, surrounding us at every turn, calling out to us, serving as a warning to the more discerning among us while blithely ignored or tragically unnoticed by those of us less aware.  Consider some of the most obvious;

the words RECALCULATING, RECALCULATING

the “road construction ahead, delays are possible”  sign  (meaning get off now, before its too late)

any statement prefaced with “now don’t take this the wrong way but . . . ”

flight delay due to mechanical difficulties

the words  “let me put you on hold for just a second”

sign  “not responsible for lost or stolen items”

the words, “don’t call us, we’ll call you”  or “the check’s in the mail” or “some restrictions may apply”  or “no returns, refunds or exchanges”  (buyer beware)

new, never before heard noises coming from your refrigerator, your furnace, your car, your washing machine, your hair dryer (basically any unnatural noises from any machine you depend on to fulfill a necessary function in your daily life)

and then there’s the BEAUTIFUL,  surrounding us at every turn, if only we had the time and the inclination to notice.  Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but there’s plenty of it to go around for everyone to see.  “He (God) has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)  The beauty of God’s creation surrounds us despite anything man has done to mar that perfect beauty which existed at creation.  With every sunrise and sunset we behold a glimpse of the beauty God has in store for us.

“How BEAUTIFUL on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!'”  (Isaiah 52:7)    Yes, God’s gospel, (good news) of salvation is beautiful to each and every one of us who receives it,  so beautiful in fact, that the very feet of those God uses to proclaim His message are beautiful to those who hear His life giving message.

“We can search the world over for the beautiful, but unless we carry it within us we will find it not.”  This is one of my favorite quotes.   And we do carry the beautiful within us when we have “Christ in us, our hope of glory”.  Our Creator has surrounded us with beauty so out of character amidst the brokenness we have brought into this world that we can’t help but behold it and have our breath taken away.  From the majesty of the mountains to a sky filled with stars, we can experience beauty simply by opening our eyes and our hearts to its presence.

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands.  Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.”  (Psalm 19:2)

sincerely,        Grace Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think I am a person who craves consistency, which is to say I am not comfortable with change.  Why this is so, I can’t really say.  Now change is not necessarily negative, in fact change is usually proclaimed as positive and given the name of progress. Change is an inevitable part of life. The seasons change, taking us along with them, neither asking nor needing our consent.  Besides death and taxes, change is the only certainty, the remaining constant.

Recently this was brought home to me yet again.  I went to eat at one of my favorite little eating places in a strip mall only to discover a sign on the door saying they were no longer in business.  (not moved, just gone)  I don’t eat there very often (obviously or I would have known it was gone or going much sooner) but just knowing it was there if I wanted to meet a friend for lunch or whatever was comforting.  Now I felt let down, abandoned in a sense, something I counted on was no longer there for me.  ( I know, I know, there’s plenty more eating places to choose from, but I had found one I liked)

And having to part with my car of fourteen years when it officially gave out on me, was definitely an unchosen change.  I was content with my car, I was comfortable with it.  And they don’t make that exact car anymore so I couldn’t just replace it with a newer version.  (besides I didn’t want a newer version)  Let’s just say I still haven’t bonded well with my beloved vehicle’s successor.

Then they rearranged/remodeled my Meijer store without even so much as soliciting my opinion on the matter as their valued customer.  (or maybe I overestimate my value to them as a loyal customer?)  Anyway, I could get in and out of there in record time because I knew where everything that I typically bought was located.  I was comfortable there. That was before. Now I wander around looking for the most routine of items, trying to guess at the logic behind the relocation process of everything from shampoo to bakery goods.  Mostly, I am unsuccessful and leave frustrated without finding everything on my list.  I’m sure there was some very sound marketing strategy reason why they needed to play upset the apple cart with all of our shopping lives and limited time.

Did I mention the pumpkin patch I frequented for many years is now a field full of firewood for sale?  Or that my favorite community theater, where my children and I saw many a play is no more, but has relocated and has a new identity to match its’ new venue.  And where have all the goldfish that we used to feed in my favorite fountain pond gone?  When did they start assigning seats in movie theaters?  I have not moved in many years (does this surprise you?) but I have watched my beloved neighbors move in and move out, so the changes come through no choice of my own.  And I learn to love my new neighbors even as I miss those who have moved away.  Co-workers leave and new ones come to fill their spots. My children had the audacity to grow up, become productive citizens and leave an empty house in their wake.

My long time bible study group is disbanding as we are each being called in new and different directions at this time.  There was comfort in the consistency of these precious relationships, but constant change is the only constant.  Our presidents change, the weather changes, fashion changes faster than we can shop to keep up with what’s in for the moment and technology changes even faster than  fashion does!  Todays’ health food is tomorrows’ health risk.  My car wash even went from one lane to three lanes, not to improve service I’m sure, but just to torture me with having to decide each time which lane is my best bet to get through quickly.

I like the comfort of the consistent, the feeling of the familiar.  Some people might label the absence of change as monotonous or as boring.  But I am not one of those people.  My bank recently changed hands again, my church changed some things on their web site (after I finally figured out how to work what was already there) and my employer outsourced me and others to a new and different employer.  All changes I did not choose.  When I visit my hometown after a long absence, finding places and people unchanged is reassuring and reaffirming, as if all is right with the world because things are as I remembered them.  Something I can count on.

But it seems to me each day brings more unchosen changes into my life, causing me to question what or who I can count on to be there when I need the comfort the continuity of their presence provides.   I’ve had more than one favorite food place just disappear without warning leaving me wondering what happened.  And people are so mobile these days, we seem to come into and out of each others’ lives in a constantly changing pattern whose defining characteristic is constant change.

I’m so thankful I have chosen the One who never changes.  “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.”  (Hebrews 13:8)

“I the Lord do not change.  So you, O descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed.”  (Malachi 3:6)

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, Who does not change like shifting shadows.”  (James 1:17)

” ‘I am the Alpha and the Omega,’ says the Lord God, ‘who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.'”  (Revelation 1:8)

“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)

This is what my heart craves, the comfort of consistency that I can count on in a world where change is the constant, even when I don’t seek it or choose it.  My Heavenly Father tells me He will never leave me nor forsake me and He never slumbers nor sleeps.  I can count on Him,  He is faithful.  “if we are faithless, He will remain faithful, for He cannot disown Himself.”  (2Timothy 2:13)    My life will continue to be filled with unchosen changes every day, but I have chosen the One who never changes, giving me the comfort and peace of His constant Presence in this ever changing world.

sincerely,         Grace Day

 

 

 

 

 

Lord, make me a bridge; bridges get walked on, that’s their sole purpose.  Let people walk on me, walk across me, to get to You.   And Lord, forgive me for those times when I’m a barrier instead of a bridge, for those times when I keep people from You and block their view of You, instead of providing a connection over whatever chasms separate people from Your love for them.   What joy to be a bridge used for Your good purposes.  I could want nothing more than this highest of callings, to lay down rather than to stand up tall and unmovable.  Yes, please Lord, let me be a bridge again today.  Let me be Your bridge, a bridge for You, a bridge to You.  in Jesus’s name, Amen.

sincerely,   Grace Day

Old is in!  (and has been trending that way for awhile, if you weren’t paying attention.) But how is this even possible in a youth obsessed culture such as ours?  How long has this been going on?

Consider what we shop for.  We buy “distressed” furniture, which is new furniture made to look old.  And we pay more to have our “new” furniture look “old”.  Vintage is in vogue and we value the look.  And jeans?  You’ve seen them, dear readers. They are everywhere.  The more holes, the more tears, the more faded or bleached they are, the more they cost.  This is true for other items of clothing as well, the more “distressed” the look, the higher the price.  We want our new clothes to look well worn.  And we’ll pay what it takes.  Apparently old has value (or at least the appearance of being old does).

So, I’ve decided I like this trend.  I want to go with the flow of popular opinion and see where it takes me.  Vintage is in vogue, right?  Vintage cars are supposed to be cool (as well as expensive).   So our wrinkles should be revered, not removed.  Our wrinkles proclaim our ever increasing worth to all who behold them.  We are becoming more valuable with each passing day.  And gray hair, well Proverbs 16:31 says it best; “Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained by living a godly life.”

So, put some dents in your furniture,  cut some holes in your clothes,  throw out the wrinkle cream and get rid of the hair color.  Old (rebranded as vintage) is in, so enjoy it!  And if you’re feeling or looking a little distressed, not to worry.  People are paying big bucks for distressed (as well as a pretty penny to de-stress, but that’s another blog post).  So enjoy every dent and hole you carry with you, dear readers.  They are your badges of honor. They are your reminders of what didn’t do you in, because you’re still standing.  They are your reminders of God’s goodness and mercy and deliverance.

“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”   2 Cor. 4:17

sincerely,       Grace Day

 

 

 

 

I’m missing mom again today, although as I mentioned in a recent post, its been five years that I’ve had to get along without her.  I ate at one of her favorite places yesterday and that brought back a lifetime of memories, which explains my current reflective state of mind.  My dear friend’s mom went on to heaven as well in the last few years.  I was at the celebration of this special woman’s life and knew then, although we had not met, that she and my mom would have been fast friends had they not lived in different cities but had the opportunity to know each other as my friend and I do.

They shared the same values of faith, family and friends first, self last.  They lived their lives based on these values leaving a legacy of love in their wake for us to follow.  And I am grateful for that legacy as I find myself living in a “me first” world that would deceive me into agreeing that this is the path to fulfillment, but for their example to remind me otherwise.  I refer to them as “Sunday School ladies” when my friend and I reminisce about our moms. But I don’t mean it in the way SNL  portrays someone they give that label to.

No, these were real women who lived their lives with courage and quiet strength every day.  They lived out their lives in the context of community, a community they created in their church and in their neighborhood by their steadfast commitment to serving not only their families and friends but those in need and those outside the confines of their immediate circle.  In Sunday School they studied God’s word together, learning lessons they would need to enable them to live the extraordinary lives they led.  In the context of worship and prayer they formed the friendships that would sustain them through the inescapable challenges that come to each of us, friendships that would last a lifetime.

Perhaps because neither of our moms moved around during their lives, but lived in one place for the entirety of their lives, their roots were able to grow down deep, resulting in deep friendships and a deeper, more lasting impact on the communities where they lived and served.  I love that my mom was still doing “Meals on Wheels”,  ( a service she had been instrumental in bringing to her community) at a time when she herself could have benefited from the service.

Which reminds me of another shared characteristic, these women didn’t give up.  They were not quitters. They were steadfast, in it for the long haul no matter how hard things got.  Unlike today, where at the first sign of trouble or difficulty, so many of us bail out. They did not disengage, they kept on showing up.  That’s called being faithful and it comes from having faith.  Yes, the “Sunday School ladies” I knew were tough, contrary to popular opinion.  And they were accepting and inclusive, not judgmental as the stereotype would have us believe.  They were the ones bringing meals, visiting the sick, collecting clothes for those who needed them; reaching out to others in all kinds of tangible ways that truly made a difference in the lives of those fortunate enough to know them.

Our moms persevered through life’s losses, heartaches, disappointments, difficult days and turbulent times providing stability for our families in an often chaotic and ever changing world.  They met hate with love and intolerance with acceptance. Without using words,  our moms taught us how to live.  Words weren’t necessary when they were here with us, their actions spoke clearly and eloquently and the “fruit” of their lives continues to reveal itself to me as I reflect on Mom’s legacy to me.  It’s a legacy of courage and compassion, of persistence and patience, of service, sacrifice and selflessness, and finally of family and of faith.

In these days of division and demeaning discourse, which the media keeps ever before us, lest we actually be left alone to experience our own reality and lead our own lives, I take hope from the stories of our moms and the lives they led.  One was a beautiful black woman, the other a winsome white woman.  Both left us, their fortunate daughters, a legacy of love that lasts beyond their years and will last beyond our years as well.  With God’s grace, my friend and I will persevere and pass their legacies on to our own daughters and so our moms’ legacies of love will live on in them.

“She is clothed with strength and dignity; . . .  Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: ‘Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.’  Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.  Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.”  (Proverbs 31:25-31)

miss you mom,        sincerely,      Grace Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No this is not some kind of political statement, this is a personal reality in my home. Yes, I deal with NRAS on a daily basis.  Not familiar with this malady?  Neither was I for most of my life.  You see, we had always been a one cat family.  Both my childhood family and my family as an adult counted only one cat among our members.  And all was well.  Then my youngest daughter decided our current cat, who was getting older, needed a companion and playmate to keep her company.  (why didn’t I suggest fish or even a bird to fill this role?)  Because I had no idea, that’s why.

And so it happened that we acquired a kitten to go with our cat.  A cat, by the way, who had expressed no such desire and who had not been consulted on this matter of adding an additional family member.  So we brought our new little calico home from the shelter and all was well.  For about three years.  Then, without warning, one ordinary day, amidst ordinary events, it happened.  NRAS entered our home and remains to this day.  And things have never been the same since.  Total peace has never been restored and I fear will never return here.  Oh, there are temporary truces, so deceptive in their appearing.  They get my hopes up that all will be well from this point on, only to be dashed as skirmishes resume when my guard is down.

Now the ordinary event that was the beginning of this now ongoing saga, was a routine trip to the vet for annual shots by one of the aforementioned felines.  Imagine my surprise when upon returning from the vet, these two former friends began behaving like mortal enemies, ready to battle to the death if not for being separated by myself, now thrown into the role of referee.  I was unprepared for this strange turn of events and called my vet for advice.  That’s when NRAS was explained to me.  This malady is “non-recognition aggression syndrome” in cats and my cats had it bad!

Now I always thought cats had pretty good eyesight, could even see well in the dark.  So what could be the problem?  They could see each other, couldn’t they.  Why didn’t they recognize each other?  We hadn’t been THAT long at the vet.  Were their memories THAT short?  Is it only elephants that never forget?  Did they have no memory of all the good times they’d shared up to this point?  (Bird watching out the windows, chasing and playing hide and seek with each other, eating out of each other’s food bowls)  I pondered these questions as I watched in disbelief as their growling and hissing toward each other continued to escalate, reaching truly alarming proportions.  Memory for them seemed to have been erased, the slate wiped clean.  We were starting over and this time they hated one another.

I was told it was smell they were reacting to, the one that had been gone smelled different so the other no longer recognized her.  Again, I wanted to reason with them.  “Use your eyes, I wanted to shout, you can clearly see each other, who cares what you smell like?”  Apparently, our calico cared and our snowshoe concurred and reacted. “You don’t remember me?  well I don’t remember you either”  With cats, smell must trump vision every time, I concluded.  “You’re the intruder, no you’re the intruder”  was my interpretation of their loud discourse.  The peace in our home had been replaced with this ongoing battle and with my constant vigilance to keep them separate and safe from each other.

This really was a full time job in and of itself, but I don’t know who you delegate this job of delicate, full time diplomacy to?  And what would be the job title?  “Feline Negotiator needed now, must speak fluent feline.” And so life continued with the waxing and the waning of the feline feud, presenting innumerable challenges and keeping us on our guard at all times.   An initial cooling off period was achieved by moving one cat to her own “apartment”, a separate room behind a closed door.  (let them growl away with the door between them)  Next came supervised visits with each other, gradually lengthening over time.  Tensions would ease and some semblance of peace would be restored.  Hope hung in the air at such times, heralding the end of the Cat Wars.  But then it would be time for one of them to visit the vet for their required annual shots.

Back to square one and the process would start all over again.  Why wouldn’t I just let them fight it out?  you might ask.  Although this occurred to me as a possible solution, I didn’t want to run the risk of harm to one or both of them.  Because ironically, that would result in more visits to the vet, which is the root cause of the NRAS for my cats in the first place.  Cat Wars are wearisome because they are never ending and because they result in litter box wars, which results in never ending cleaning problems and work for me.  Another reason I desire peace on the feline home front.

Why is this on my mind currently when its been going on for quite a few years now? Well, the older cat, the snow shoe,  is sick and going to the vet more often now than just the once a year check up.  Medicine and tests are taking place with diagnosis to come soon.  So the Cat Wars are on for sure and she doesn’t feel well.  I am battle weary but have not found a Feline Negotiator at this time.  Again, wish I could reason with the Calico and tell her to drop the “tude” for awhile, cut her feline friend some slack so she doesn’t have to be looking over her shoulder 24/7.  What price peace?

Will she miss her snowshoe sister when she’s gone?   Will she remember?  (apparently not, or this syndrome wouldn’t be happening)  Do I do this with people?  Do I react to anything that “smells different” from what I’m used to or doesn’t agree with me and fail to recognize all the good and potential that resides within them?  Fail to recognize all the unexplored connections that I have with others?  Do I fail to recognize because I fail to see, or more truly, I fail to look beneath the surface.  I don’t take the time, I don’t make the effort?

If I want peace, I need to seek it and pursue it and practice it in my personal life every day.  It is a choice.  It will require some effort, but anything worthwhile does come with a price.  The Cat Wars have not consumed me, but to me they seem so inexplicable.  I want to shout to my cats, “you can clearly see each other, you are both cats, you have the same needs and I can meet all your needs plus more without giving less to the other.  There is no reason for you to fight when you could enjoy peace.”

Is that how God sees all of us?   We are all human, we have the same needs for food, water, shelter, health, meaningful work, meaningful relationships, safety and peace for ourselves and our children, etc.   Is that what God would shout to all of us, that He wants to supply all our needs, that we are more alike than different because we are all created in His image, that we need to open our eyes and truly recognize our kinship with those around us.  We have mistaken them for foes when we were created to be friends.

“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.  Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath . . .”  (Romans 12:18-19)

“And my God will meet all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”  (Philippians 4:19)

“After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. . . ”   (Revelation 7:9)

“Turn from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it.”  (Psalm 34:14)

sincerely,     Grace Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was an ordinary day, like any other Saturday, I promise you.  Well, except for the fact that it was 60 something degrees on a Saturday in the month of January, but other than that minor detail, in every other respect, just an ordinary Saturday.  At least that’s how it started out.  I decided to go for a walk before tackling my “to do” list because I wanted to take advantage of this gift of such unexpectedly warm weather at this time of the year.

Now walking is one of my favorite things to do. Its free, it relaxes me, helps to prepare and energize me for the day ahead or allows me to unwind and think about whatever it is that needs contemplating at day’s end.  So I often walk around my neighborhood on the sidewalks or on the paths on the golf course not in use at the moment.  Today was no different,  I took one of my usual routes which took me onto the golf course and a little bit closer to nature as there are woods and water with bridges connecting one side to the other.  Plenty of ducks and geese frequent these ponds as well as the occasional heron, bullfrogs, and the elusive muskrat, so there is plenty to watch as I walk, if I am not too deep in thought to notice.

I was walking at a pretty good pace as I stepped onto the wooden bridge from the concrete path.  The wood was wet from the recent rain and without warning I slipped, throwing my arms out as I reacted in order to keep my balance.  As I did so, my house key flew from my hand into the water before I even knew it was happening.  My cell phone was also clutched in that same hand, I had been holding them together as I walked.  So this could have been a repeat of an earlier incident in my life, “cell phone two, lost again to water”.  But that was not the case.

However,  I still had a very real and immediate problem, how to get into my house without my key or how to find my now submerged key.  Either was going to be a challenge.  What to do?  All the if onlys flooded my thoughts first.  If only I had a key pad entry on my garage, I could just press in the numbers and I’d be able to get in.  But I don’t.  If only I’d left a spare key with one of my neighbors, but I hadn’t.  If only my keys (and phone) had been in my pocket instead of my hand, but they weren’t.  If only I’d been wearing gloves, but I didn’t think I needed them today.  If only I kept a spare key on my front porch or around my house somewhere, but I don’t.  If only I’d taken to the sidewalk as I had considered doing as I exited one part of the golf course, because I thought the next section might have parts of the path under water, but I didn’t.  I had decided to chance it and see if I could get through.

So the reality of my situation slowly began to sink in. ( much more slowly I might add than the split second it took my key to sink and vanish from sight)  Now questions ran rampant through my mind.  Triple A can break into my car for me, could they break into my house for me as well?  Who do you call to break into your house for you? (criminals R us?)  Were any of my neighbors home at the moment?  And even if they were, what could they possibly do?  Did I want to break a window?  (that would be an expensive replacement)  I decided I would get my very tall rain boots and return to the scene of my mishap to wade in and search for my key. (after all it wasn’t that cold) This seemed like a satisfactory plan, inconveniencing no one, until I realized I would need my lost key to get into my house in order to get my rain boots.  So back to square one.

My ordinary, well planned day had just taken an unexpected turn.  I take such pains to protect myself from so many things, and yet here I was.  I hadn’t planned for this, nor planned how to prevent it.  I didn’t see it coming.  I was reminded once again that the things I worry about often never happen and things I don’t worry about do.  Only a week ago I had spent two days worrying about a predicted ice storm that was going to be in full force when I needed to be at the airport picking up my daughter and son in law.  I watched the weather expectantly, making all kinds of contingency plans in my head, but as midnight approached not a drop was falling.  There was no weather issue at all.

But today I had an issue and it needed a solution.  I knocked on my neighbor’s door. (fortunately I had walked mid-morning and not at my usual quite early hour, or I would have had the additional problem of it being too early to bother anyone)  These particular  neighbors are good friends as well as kind and compassionate people, so I hoped my embarrassment in my current predicament would be minimized at least. (imagine having to explain this to strangers)  I asked to borrow boots, explaining my situation.  What I received in addition to the boots was a huge chunk of metal, which was a magnate fastened by duck tape to a long cord.  (duck tape is always involved in problem solving in some capacity)  My hopes soared, this would surely do the trick.  I hiked back over to the bridge and set to work.  I could “fish” from the bridge so I didn’t even need the boots.

I was pretty sure I knew where the key had entered the water, well kind of sure, it happened so fast.  My solitary key was attached via key ring to a small circular piece of leather I had had since college, with a rose design now faded and worn but still visible. This circle of leather actually has a lot of sentimental value to me; it is special but it’s the key that is necessary. This brown leather circle would blend in perfectly with the wet brown leaves that blanketed the bottom of the pond where it was shallow enough to see the bottom, that is.  I looked first and saw nothing and so began to fish for my hidden house key.  At first I lowered the large magnate carefully from the bridge until it touched bottom, let it rest there a moment, then pulled it carefully up.  I didn’t want to muddy up the water or to push my key further into the mud and leaves at the bottom.

Each time I hauled the magnate from the water I firmly believed my key would be attached.  My eyes were glued to the magnate each time it came up out of the water. I held my breath in expectation, already filled with gratitude and relief.  And each time it came up empty, my anticipation turned to disappointment. I would second guess where indeed my key had entered the water, recalculate and try again.  Feeling frustrated after some time had passed with many failed attempts, I broadened my search area.  I cast the magnate a bit further from the bridge and began to drag it along the bottom as well. This made the water really murky but I had to try something different.  I brought up a few nails, a bolt and lots of leaves each time, but no key.

I was getting discouraged but I knew my key was down there somewhere.  I had watched it and heard it as it entered the water.  I needed it back!  I even tried the other side of the bridge,  thinking of Jesus’s advice to Peter to put the fishing nets on the other side of the boat.  But there was no current and I didn’t think the key would have moved much.  So I started over, working the area again where I thought my key should be.  By now I was just going through the motions.  Lowering, dragging, retrieving, removing leaves and lowering again.

My disappointment was turning to despair with each failed attempt.  I wasn’t really looking as the magnate broke the surface of the water each time now, because I was no longer expecting the key to be attached.  Still, I persisted in fishing for my key while considering, what next?  I had tried deeper, going as far as the middle of the bridge and further out from the bridge, though I believed my key was both closer to the bridge and to the bank.  So I decided to put on the boots and go wading so that I could search with my hands.

As I pulled the magnate up yet again, I reached out to catch it and remove the leaves, while looking at the bank, planning my point of entry.  When I actually looked at the magnate, it took me more than a moment it seemed to realize that I was looking at my key and leather circle!  I had quit expecting to see them how many throws into the water ago?  I couldn’t say exactly when my many disappointments had turned my certain expectation into something else., into  resignation?  into hopelessness?  Was it on the 15th try? the 50th? or the 150th?  I couldn’t tell you.

But I can tell you that even though I was feeling resigned and hopeless, I continued to “fish” for my key, I did not stop.  Now feeling relief, joy and gratitude I hurried back to my neighbors to return their things and share with them my good news.  What was lost is now found.  That’s the miracle. or is it?

Or is the real miracle God’s reminder to me that He never gives up on me or on anyone?  Therefore I should never give up on myself and neither should you, dear reader, ever give up on yourself.  God doesn’t.  God reminded me while I was “fishing” that I need to persist even when my feelings tell me otherwise.  We all need to be encouraged to “keep on keeping on”.   I’m glad I did.  I’m glad I didn’t stop untill I found my key.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”  (Galatians 6:9)

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him”  (1Cor. 2:9)

“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him.”  (James 1:12)

sincerely,               Grace Day

 

 

 

 

 

when I am on the mountain top, let me remember my journey through the valley,         lest I neglect to show compassion to those in the valley,                                                       for I will be in the valley again.

In times of abundance may I remember my times of want,  lest I forget to be generous to those in need,  for I will be in want again.

when I am enjoying the sun, may I remember the rain, lest I forget to be grateful and give thanks,  for I will see the rain again.

when I know joy, may I not forget my pain, lest I forget to show sympathy to those who are hurting,  for I will know pain again.

when kind words encourage me, let me not forget the wounds of cutting words, lest I fail to speak encouragement to those who need it,  for I will need encouragement again.

in healing, let me not forget what it was to be ill, lest I forget to care for the infirm,  I will need healing again.

when I am rested, let me not forget what it was to be weary,  lest I neglect to provide a respite for those who are tired,  I will be weary again.

when my heart is whole, let me not forget how it felt to live broken hearted, lest I forget to show kindness to those whose hearts are broken,  for my heart will be broken again.

when my burden is light, let me not forget what it was to carry the heavy load of my cares and my sin, lest I neglect to bear another’s burden, for I will be heavy laden again.

when I am walking in Your light, Lord;  let me not forget what it was to walk in the darkness, lest I neglect to share Your light with someone else, for I will walk through dark times again.

when all is calm, let me not forget the storm, lest I forget to sing Your praises, God, in both; for I will be in the storm again.

in my laughter, let me not forget my tears, lest I fail to lighten others’ hearts; for I will need laughter when my tears fall again.

when I am filled with hope, let me not forget my times of despair, lest I have no empathy for those who are struggling,  for I will see times of despair again.

when I am surrounded by those dear to me, may I not forget my times alone, lest I fail to reach out to those who are lonely;  I will walk alone again.

when I am filled with faith, let me not forget what it was to doubt, so that I can reassure those who doubt;  for I may yet doubt again.

when I am home, let me not forget what it was to wander, lest I fail to welcome every returning prodigal home;  for I was once a prodigal in need of welcome;  I could yet be a prodigal again.

Let me remember always, Heavenly Father, Your all sustaining, ever present comfort, that I might share it freely with all;  remembering and rejoicing, in being both the comforted and the comforter.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”  (1Cor. 1:3-4)

“I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember Your miracles of long ago.  I will meditate on all Your works and consider all Your mighty deeds.”  (Psalm 77:11-12)

sincerely,                     Grace Day

 

I’ve always had trouble with New Year’s; the concept, the resolutions, things dropping etc.  Now this may seem odd coming from someone who loves beginnings of any kind (see very first post) but I don’t see New Year’s day as a beginning.  I mean it’s the middle of winter, the middle of the school year, the middle of the fiscal year for many, and middles are a whole different thing than beginnings.  We don’t celebrate middles nor commemorate them.   We acknowledge and celebrate and commemorate beginnings and endings in every aspect of our lives.  Births, deaths, weddings, divorces, new jobs, retirements, starting school, graduations, making the team, winning the championship, etc.   Not so with middles.

Middles are messy.  The middle of anything can be monotonous, made up mostly of the mundane day to day details that drive our days. Middles are murky and meandering,  we can easily lose momentum, we can easily lose our way.  The middle may be mellow, devoid of the highs and lows that accompany most beginnings and endings, but still full of feeling, of longing or anticipation, of dread or despair.  When we are in the middle of anything it is often slow going and we are left to muddle through, making the most of every moment.  Making sure we don’t lose our way.

Now, lest middles get a bad rep here, let me just say that the middle of an Oreo is the sweet spot of the cookie.  The middle of a sandwhich is where the meat is.  And it’s precisely in the middle where the real work of living our life is done.  It is in the middle that life is lived, friendships formed, skills acquired, services rendered, dreams pursued.  We live our lives in the uncelebrated, unheralded middle; punctuated by numerous beginnings and endings marking this or that;  but by and large we live out our moments in the middle.  In the middle of school, in the middle of a marriage, in the middle of a career, in the middle of raising children, in the middle of an illness, in the middle of training for the marathon, in the middle of being on our way to whatever it is. We live our lives in the middle.

We are living in middle times.  Jesus has come and lived and died and risen and returned to heaven.  He has told us that He is coming again.  “‘Men of Galilee’, they said, ‘why do you stand here looking into the sky?  This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen Him go into heaven.'” (Acts 1:11)  “At that time men will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory.”  (Mark 13:26)

“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them.  They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.’ He who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!'”  (Revelation 21:3-5)

Now that’s what I call a NEW YEAR!  A true beginning, the old is gone, the new has come.  Not more of the same with a different spin or twist or a different name.  Truly something new and different.  Until then,  we are living in the middle, between Jesus’ incarnation and His return to earth.  We are waiting for His return, for that new beginning to began.

But we do get a preview of what is to come.  Each day is a new beginning/clean slate in and of itself.  “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)

And there’s more good news.  When God said He was making everything new, that includes me!  I don’t have to rely on myself, on making New Year’s resolutions that I ultimately can’t and won’t keep anyway.  I don’t have to try “twenty minutes a day to a better me”  or “five things that will ensure my career success in the New Year” or “the secret super foods that will change my life” or “three ways to find lasting love in the New Year”.

My Creator is at work in me, creating something new.  “Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”  (2Cor. 5:17)  Now that’s what I’m talking about!  Who needs New Year’s resolutions when we have the very power of our Creator available to us for the humbling and the asking?  And He is faithful.

“being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”  (Philippians 1:6)  No matter how many times I fail, God never gives up on me.  Even if I give up on myself, He is faithful.

God has given me a new heart and a new life and His mercies to me are new every morning.  There may be nothing “new” about New Year’s (except the date on the calendar) but there’s everything new about the life God offers each of us through His Son, Jesus.

Now we see through a glass darkly, as we muddle through this middle, but then we shall see face to face.   So I think, dear readers, the more truthful salutation that I will offer you on this New Year’s day is,  a Merry Middle to you!    May your Mountains become Molehills (instead of vice-versa), may you both receive and grant Mercy unconditionally and may your Mustard seed of faith enable you to recognize and rejoice over the Miracles God grants you each day.

sincerely,                            Grace Day