Christmas is barreling down upon us like a runaway freight train. The lights on the Christmas tree are as bright as the light on the train’s engine. Each year I think this is the year I’m going to get to enjoy the season, spending time with friends and just enjoying the fact the Christmas only comes once a year.
But alas that is not so. For the next week and a half I have something scheduled every day. Granted they may be small things, but still to have something on each and every day and sometimes two on one day; doesn’t bode well for my already tired brain.
Why do I do it? I know the word “no” why can’t I use it? Because this is a special time of the year and I want everybody to have and be able to do everything they want, even if that means driving an hour to watch a Christmas concert or driving thirty minutes to pick up just the right gift.
But don’t we all do it? I don’t ask what people NEED for Christmas, I ask what they WANT. Christmas it not the time to give needs, it’s a time to grant wishes. It’s a time to remember that because of a baby boy life is worth living.
Raised as I was, I don’t necessarily believe that Jesus was born on Christmas, but if it gets the rest of the world to recognize and talk about him, so be it. But he was born a baby. He made a decision to be born a baby and come to live as a human man, to suffer all the indignities that that entails, to love and be loved, to be scorned and then to be killed in the most heinous way that time had to offer.
As the days hurl by and Christmas comes closer, I hope to dwell on that baby boy whose ultimate death give my life meaning. I would like to crowd out the have tos and the running from one thing to anther and the barrage of Christmas songs over store loud speakers and dwell for a moment in the glory of that baby boy. And nights when I go in and shut my door and crawl on my bed for a nap, I hope to remember that that baby boy withdrew and had quiet time alone to recharge his batteries and that it’s okay.
But mostly I want to revel in love: love for family and friends, and the love that I have from God and my savior. I want to savor this time of year and the way it makes me feel and pack it away in tissue so I can pull it out and drink it in when things turn sour. I want to hold it close but also let it go so that is spreads to others and I see the light in their eyes. That baby boy makes it possible.
So here’s to eggnog, cakes, tinsel and tree, stockings and bows and kids full of glee. To those who are here and those who are far, Christmas was found by seeing a star.
To all of you, Merry Christmas.
Stevie
copywrite ©2010 Stevie Stevens Fort Worth, TX. For information please contact Faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
It's That Time!
H – Holiday from work
A – Abundant table
P – Pleasant conversation
P – Platters piled high
Y – Yams with nuts or marshmallows
T – Time with family and friends
H – Hours available to cook and clean
A – All welcome
N – Nice special occasion dishes
K – Kitchen
S – Stove that is electric
G – God’s good gifts
I – Inviting smells from the kitchen
V – Various football games
I – Ingrained traditions
N – Nodding off after lunch
G – Grace
A – Abundant table
P – Pleasant conversation
P – Platters piled high
Y – Yams with nuts or marshmallows
T – Time with family and friends
H – Hours available to cook and clean
A – All welcome
N – Nice special occasion dishes
K – Kitchen
S – Stove that is electric
G – God’s good gifts
I – Inviting smells from the kitchen
V – Various football games
I – Ingrained traditions
N – Nodding off after lunch
G – Grace
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Worry
Do Not Worry
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life[b]?
"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:25-34 (NIV)
Somebody did a study on what the average person worries about. They found that 40% of what people worry about never happens, 30% has already happened and they can’t do anything about it, 12% is what others say about you that is, most of the time, untrue; and finally 10% deals with health, and worrying will only make that worse. That leaves 8% for the things that are considered to be real problems, and worry doesn’t help with those either.
Worry is like a rocking chair, “it will give you something to do, but gets you nowhere.” It is also like a disease “it infects everyone yet no one seeks a cure.” Worry is a sin dangerous enough to ruin my physical and spiritual vitality and drain my life of hope and joy; and generates the kind of peace-robbing emotional spirit that weakens and tires me. Yet, knowing that, I still worry. . . a lot! Here are five ways to win the war over worry:
Trust in the Lord
Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”
I trust God in the big decisions, where should I live or work, my children, my mate, but do I trust God in the small stuff? What shall I wear or eat today? He loves me and wants to be involved in my life, just as I am involved in my children’s or friends’ lives. I need to Trust in him with ALL my heart.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” Philippians 4:6. Do not be anxious or worried or fret about anything. That’s a command. Do not be doesn’t leave a question in my mind. I am not to worry, fret or be anxious about one thing. How many times, when there’s an important appointment in the morning, do I set the alarm, but can’t sleep because I’m afraid it won’t go off? And how about arriving 3 hours early for a plane? That’s not going to make that plane take off one minute earlier.
“But in everything,” again, that leaves nothing out, “by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” When I’ve lost something, I should start out by thanking God for what I have left. Do I have loved ones? Do I have clothes and shelter, or food for the next meal? Do I still have all the important parts of my body?
Dr. Alexander Kidd, was a great clergyman who lived in Aberdeen. He was well known to theologians and pastors. One day, he got very angry and upset and said the wrong words as he left a gathering of his closest Christian colleagues. Dr. Kidd was feeling very guilty and said “Tell me why can I handle the big trials, but it’s the little ones, the petty annoyances that irate me and I say things that would embarrass my Lord, Jesus Christ? Why can I handle the big things and not the little ones?”
One of his colleagues answered, “Good brother, Dr. Kidd, I know the answer. You take the big ones to God, completely, and you trust Him. But with the little ones, you don’t bother him. You think you can handle them yourself.”
Dr. Kidd said, “Aye, aye, the true cause, I do believe. I have to learn to take the little things, as well as the big ones, to God.”
Don’t worry because I have taken everything to God in prayer and trust that he will take care of it.
Do Good
One of the signs that I’m not trusting God is that I drop out of my usual activities. Then I get down. I say, “I lost my job!” Well, what am I doing about it? “Well, I’m just sitting around the house!” Well, quit it! Get out there and do something trusting God to provide! Ephesians 2:10 “For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Besides, helping others takes my mind off my troubles.
Delight Myself in the Lord
What a wonderful word, delight. It means a high degree of pleasure or enjoyment, joy, rapture, something that gives great pleasure, satisfaction, please highly, to have great pleasure or take pleasure. The Psalms state that God delights in me. Psalm 147:11 “The Lord DELIGHTS in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love.” Psalm 37:23 “If the Lord DELIGHTS in a man’s way, he makes his steps firm.” Psalm 22:8 “He trusts in the Lord; let the Lord rescue him. Let him deliver him, since he delights in him.”
He enjoys me, he waits patiently for me to acknowledge him, and include him. I picture him in the same state as a child who is sitting on the top step waiting to be called to the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. His eyes are bright, there’s a smile on his face and he’s waiting in eager anticipation for me to call out to him. I should have the same feeling towards him, and when I am full of delight and joy, there is no room for worry.
Commit My Way to the Lord
Commit means literally “to roll”. It means to roll my burden on the Lord. Whatever that burden is, I am to give it to God. His shoulders are broad enough. Matthew 11:30 “For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” As I have gone through tough times, divorce, losing my job, not feeling well, Satan tries his tricks on me. He sends discouragement, disappointment, worry, maybe even anger. As I’ve matured I’ve learned to see that it is Satan warring against my spirit. I consciously make a choice not to listen to him, because if I do, he wins. I learned a long time ago that Satan is like a very ardent suitor. He tells me what I want to hear, does things with me I like to do, asking only that I follow him. But, as soon as I do, he’s gone. He’s won my hand, so he drops me like a hot potato, leaving me to fend for myself.
As soon as little sniggles of worry come into my mind, I turn them immediately over to God. Every morning, I give myself and my day to God, knowing that he wants only what’s best for me and that together he and I can face anything. He tells me he loves me and, having struggled with feelings of unloveability, I cling to that and know that he’s really there for me, so I must be there for him. There’s an old hymn that says “I can’t even walk without holding your hand”, and that’s the way I feel. If I’m not holding on to his precious, loving hand, I’m laying face down in the dirt.
Rest in the Lord
Such a lovely picture. Jesus, sitting with his arms open wide beckoning me to crawl up in his lap and lay my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me and says, “shhhhh.” There is no business, no interruptions, only soul to soul communication from me to my brother, my savior. Psalm 23 says he restores my soul. Matthew 11:28 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Proverbs 19:23 “The fear of the LORD leads to life: Then one rests content, untouched by trouble.” Then one rests content, untouched by trouble. Content, untouched by trouble. Can’t we all use some of that kind of rest?
The more I trust, the less I worry. Rather than worry all night, wouldn’t it be smarter to pray half the night and then sleep comfortably till morning? God’s going to be up anyway.
Replacing worry with trust gives me the ability to enjoy and appreciate my life.
Replacing worry with trust permits me to work hard and leave the results to God.
Replacing worry with trust helps me relax and truly value my friends and family.
Replacing worry with trust strengthens my faith in the God who always loves me.
Worrying does not empty tomorrow of its trouble, it empties today of its strength.
Trust in the Lord, do good, delight in the Lord, commit my way to the Lord, and rest in the Lord. A little bit of prayer sure beats a lot of worry.
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life[b]?
"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:25-34 (NIV)
Somebody did a study on what the average person worries about. They found that 40% of what people worry about never happens, 30% has already happened and they can’t do anything about it, 12% is what others say about you that is, most of the time, untrue; and finally 10% deals with health, and worrying will only make that worse. That leaves 8% for the things that are considered to be real problems, and worry doesn’t help with those either.
Worry is like a rocking chair, “it will give you something to do, but gets you nowhere.” It is also like a disease “it infects everyone yet no one seeks a cure.” Worry is a sin dangerous enough to ruin my physical and spiritual vitality and drain my life of hope and joy; and generates the kind of peace-robbing emotional spirit that weakens and tires me. Yet, knowing that, I still worry. . . a lot! Here are five ways to win the war over worry:
Trust in the Lord
Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”
I trust God in the big decisions, where should I live or work, my children, my mate, but do I trust God in the small stuff? What shall I wear or eat today? He loves me and wants to be involved in my life, just as I am involved in my children’s or friends’ lives. I need to Trust in him with ALL my heart.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” Philippians 4:6. Do not be anxious or worried or fret about anything. That’s a command. Do not be doesn’t leave a question in my mind. I am not to worry, fret or be anxious about one thing. How many times, when there’s an important appointment in the morning, do I set the alarm, but can’t sleep because I’m afraid it won’t go off? And how about arriving 3 hours early for a plane? That’s not going to make that plane take off one minute earlier.
“But in everything,” again, that leaves nothing out, “by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” When I’ve lost something, I should start out by thanking God for what I have left. Do I have loved ones? Do I have clothes and shelter, or food for the next meal? Do I still have all the important parts of my body?
Dr. Alexander Kidd, was a great clergyman who lived in Aberdeen. He was well known to theologians and pastors. One day, he got very angry and upset and said the wrong words as he left a gathering of his closest Christian colleagues. Dr. Kidd was feeling very guilty and said “Tell me why can I handle the big trials, but it’s the little ones, the petty annoyances that irate me and I say things that would embarrass my Lord, Jesus Christ? Why can I handle the big things and not the little ones?”
One of his colleagues answered, “Good brother, Dr. Kidd, I know the answer. You take the big ones to God, completely, and you trust Him. But with the little ones, you don’t bother him. You think you can handle them yourself.”
Dr. Kidd said, “Aye, aye, the true cause, I do believe. I have to learn to take the little things, as well as the big ones, to God.”
Don’t worry because I have taken everything to God in prayer and trust that he will take care of it.
Do Good
One of the signs that I’m not trusting God is that I drop out of my usual activities. Then I get down. I say, “I lost my job!” Well, what am I doing about it? “Well, I’m just sitting around the house!” Well, quit it! Get out there and do something trusting God to provide! Ephesians 2:10 “For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Besides, helping others takes my mind off my troubles.
Delight Myself in the Lord
What a wonderful word, delight. It means a high degree of pleasure or enjoyment, joy, rapture, something that gives great pleasure, satisfaction, please highly, to have great pleasure or take pleasure. The Psalms state that God delights in me. Psalm 147:11 “The Lord DELIGHTS in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love.” Psalm 37:23 “If the Lord DELIGHTS in a man’s way, he makes his steps firm.” Psalm 22:8 “He trusts in the Lord; let the Lord rescue him. Let him deliver him, since he delights in him.”
He enjoys me, he waits patiently for me to acknowledge him, and include him. I picture him in the same state as a child who is sitting on the top step waiting to be called to the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. His eyes are bright, there’s a smile on his face and he’s waiting in eager anticipation for me to call out to him. I should have the same feeling towards him, and when I am full of delight and joy, there is no room for worry.
Commit My Way to the Lord
Commit means literally “to roll”. It means to roll my burden on the Lord. Whatever that burden is, I am to give it to God. His shoulders are broad enough. Matthew 11:30 “For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” As I have gone through tough times, divorce, losing my job, not feeling well, Satan tries his tricks on me. He sends discouragement, disappointment, worry, maybe even anger. As I’ve matured I’ve learned to see that it is Satan warring against my spirit. I consciously make a choice not to listen to him, because if I do, he wins. I learned a long time ago that Satan is like a very ardent suitor. He tells me what I want to hear, does things with me I like to do, asking only that I follow him. But, as soon as I do, he’s gone. He’s won my hand, so he drops me like a hot potato, leaving me to fend for myself.
As soon as little sniggles of worry come into my mind, I turn them immediately over to God. Every morning, I give myself and my day to God, knowing that he wants only what’s best for me and that together he and I can face anything. He tells me he loves me and, having struggled with feelings of unloveability, I cling to that and know that he’s really there for me, so I must be there for him. There’s an old hymn that says “I can’t even walk without holding your hand”, and that’s the way I feel. If I’m not holding on to his precious, loving hand, I’m laying face down in the dirt.
Rest in the Lord
Such a lovely picture. Jesus, sitting with his arms open wide beckoning me to crawl up in his lap and lay my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me and says, “shhhhh.” There is no business, no interruptions, only soul to soul communication from me to my brother, my savior. Psalm 23 says he restores my soul. Matthew 11:28 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Proverbs 19:23 “The fear of the LORD leads to life: Then one rests content, untouched by trouble.” Then one rests content, untouched by trouble. Content, untouched by trouble. Can’t we all use some of that kind of rest?
The more I trust, the less I worry. Rather than worry all night, wouldn’t it be smarter to pray half the night and then sleep comfortably till morning? God’s going to be up anyway.
Replacing worry with trust gives me the ability to enjoy and appreciate my life.
Replacing worry with trust permits me to work hard and leave the results to God.
Replacing worry with trust helps me relax and truly value my friends and family.
Replacing worry with trust strengthens my faith in the God who always loves me.
Worrying does not empty tomorrow of its trouble, it empties today of its strength.
Trust in the Lord, do good, delight in the Lord, commit my way to the Lord, and rest in the Lord. A little bit of prayer sure beats a lot of worry.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Too Stupid?
Have you ever had a day come upon you that convinces you that you are just too stupid to live? I had one of those this week. It was Tuesday to be exact. It all started innocently enough . . .
On my way to work I decided I needed gas, to I drove to my neighborhood QT along with every one else in the world to fill up. As luck would have it, I actually found an empty pump so I pulled in. I put the gas nozzle in my tank and turned it on, then I went inside to buy a coke. Stood in line, so it took a few minutes. Came back out and the pump was off so I shut it off took my receipt, got in the car, reset the mileage and off I went, secure in the fact that I now had a full tank of gas.
On my way home, my little fuel pump light comes on and dings at me, indicating that I am low on gas. What? I just filled up. Of course my brain went into hyper drive and I determined that I must have a leak in my fuel line somewhere and that I’m going to blow up any minute even though I didn’t smell gas, and should I get some gas before I have it checked just to watch it run out, but will I run out of gas before I can get somewhere to get it checked. Then I heard “STOP!” I took a breath and reached in my purse for the receipt. That would tell me exactly how much gas had leaked out. I pulled it out and looked. It was for 0.90. 90 cents! I only got 90 cents worth of gas? Then I started laughing. The pump must have shut off almost as I got into the store, but I didn’t check. I should have because my Jeep is really bad about shutting the pump off right after it starts, but I wasn’t standing there.
Sheepishly I drive back to QT and filled it up, standing there the whole time to make sure I actually got gas. I guess the 90 cents filled it up enough that the warning light went off. So there’s my Stupid is as Stupid Does story. And they gave me a license to drive!
The good news is I didn’t have a fuel leak and have to spend hundreds of dollars, the people at QT had changed shifts so they didn’t know I was back for the second time, and even if I was who says I didn’t drive it all out. Which technically I did. I drove the 90 cents worth out going to work, so all’s well that ends well.
Still laughing,
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
On my way to work I decided I needed gas, to I drove to my neighborhood QT along with every one else in the world to fill up. As luck would have it, I actually found an empty pump so I pulled in. I put the gas nozzle in my tank and turned it on, then I went inside to buy a coke. Stood in line, so it took a few minutes. Came back out and the pump was off so I shut it off took my receipt, got in the car, reset the mileage and off I went, secure in the fact that I now had a full tank of gas.
On my way home, my little fuel pump light comes on and dings at me, indicating that I am low on gas. What? I just filled up. Of course my brain went into hyper drive and I determined that I must have a leak in my fuel line somewhere and that I’m going to blow up any minute even though I didn’t smell gas, and should I get some gas before I have it checked just to watch it run out, but will I run out of gas before I can get somewhere to get it checked. Then I heard “STOP!” I took a breath and reached in my purse for the receipt. That would tell me exactly how much gas had leaked out. I pulled it out and looked. It was for 0.90. 90 cents! I only got 90 cents worth of gas? Then I started laughing. The pump must have shut off almost as I got into the store, but I didn’t check. I should have because my Jeep is really bad about shutting the pump off right after it starts, but I wasn’t standing there.
Sheepishly I drive back to QT and filled it up, standing there the whole time to make sure I actually got gas. I guess the 90 cents filled it up enough that the warning light went off. So there’s my Stupid is as Stupid Does story. And they gave me a license to drive!
The good news is I didn’t have a fuel leak and have to spend hundreds of dollars, the people at QT had changed shifts so they didn’t know I was back for the second time, and even if I was who says I didn’t drive it all out. Which technically I did. I drove the 90 cents worth out going to work, so all’s well that ends well.
Still laughing,
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Baby Steps
The last two weeks have been a chaotic jumble. If I were to add a soundtrack to it, it would be bass and kettle drums pounding out a beat with discordant piano notes in randomness floating throughout and throwing in the sounds of trumpets ever so often just to grab some attention. My plate was already full and overflowing with good works and then I got to throw in an unexpected last minute business trip. Add in a little work on my house and well, you can see why I have been absent from the blog world.
I have had a kaleidoscope of workers around my house for the last month, and while they are necessary and the improvements they have brought about are appreciated, I’m ready to stop having outsiders around. I was on four planes touching three states and ended the two weeks with two performances of a play I was involved with at church. The chaos ended with my great nephew K’s 1st birthday party. Well attended by loving grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, he celebrated in style with lots of icing on his face. He was the center of attention and while he wasn’t really sure why, he still loved it.
He’s got the wobbly legs of a first walker and plants himself face first on many occasions, but he is getting better. How much we encourage those first few steps, how terrifying to be the one who has to let go, even for something better. Uh oh, that’s sounding a little too close to home.
How many times have I felt God and Jesus encouraging me to let go so they can give me something better. And I don’t because it’s safe. Or it’s how it’s always been. Or I can’t possibly do that, I don’t have the skills, and on and on and on until he leaves and finds someone who will let go.
Come to me, and Peter did. Walking on rocky seas, eyes planted firmly on his savior until he glanced away, then he sank. I wonder what caught his eye that made him take his eyes off Jesus. A big fish? A giant wave? The devil? He’ll do anything to get our focus off Jesus, even for just a moment.
Yes, K is mobile and what a great big world is opened up for him. Places he can’t even imagine await his curiosity. What about me? What places await me? How safe is safe? To the point of growing roots because I’ve stood too long? Fear of failure? Well, that boat has sailed several times and I managed to live through them all. Next time I’m with K I’m going to watch him let go and walk with complete abandon, sure in the knowledge that if he falls, someone is there to kiss away the hurts, set him back on his feet and point him in the right direction. Who knows, maybe I’ll be right behind him.
Philosophically yours,
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Fort Worth, TX Stevie Stevens. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
I have had a kaleidoscope of workers around my house for the last month, and while they are necessary and the improvements they have brought about are appreciated, I’m ready to stop having outsiders around. I was on four planes touching three states and ended the two weeks with two performances of a play I was involved with at church. The chaos ended with my great nephew K’s 1st birthday party. Well attended by loving grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, he celebrated in style with lots of icing on his face. He was the center of attention and while he wasn’t really sure why, he still loved it.
He’s got the wobbly legs of a first walker and plants himself face first on many occasions, but he is getting better. How much we encourage those first few steps, how terrifying to be the one who has to let go, even for something better. Uh oh, that’s sounding a little too close to home.
How many times have I felt God and Jesus encouraging me to let go so they can give me something better. And I don’t because it’s safe. Or it’s how it’s always been. Or I can’t possibly do that, I don’t have the skills, and on and on and on until he leaves and finds someone who will let go.
Come to me, and Peter did. Walking on rocky seas, eyes planted firmly on his savior until he glanced away, then he sank. I wonder what caught his eye that made him take his eyes off Jesus. A big fish? A giant wave? The devil? He’ll do anything to get our focus off Jesus, even for just a moment.
Yes, K is mobile and what a great big world is opened up for him. Places he can’t even imagine await his curiosity. What about me? What places await me? How safe is safe? To the point of growing roots because I’ve stood too long? Fear of failure? Well, that boat has sailed several times and I managed to live through them all. Next time I’m with K I’m going to watch him let go and walk with complete abandon, sure in the knowledge that if he falls, someone is there to kiss away the hurts, set him back on his feet and point him in the right direction. Who knows, maybe I’ll be right behind him.
Philosophically yours,
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Fort Worth, TX Stevie Stevens. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Monday
This poor day has gotten a bad reputation over the years. The week-end is over, and we have to go back to work or school. Diets always start on Mondays. People on the way to work on Monday morning are already counting the hours till Friday and the week end. I’m here to say that this is the wrong mindset.
If the weekend ended on Monday, Tuesday would be the bad day, so it’s not anything personal about Mondays, but neither should I spend my life wishing for future events. I miss out on a whole lot of living doing that. Besides I’m presuming that I have a tomorrow, and I just might not. I personally get tired of hearing people complain and whine and moan because the week end is over. Well it happens 52 times a year, and that’s a LOT of complaining.
I have determined that I am going to have a different attitude about Mondays. I’m going to greet the day and the beginning of the week with a grateful prayer that I am indeed given this day to honor God. I am going to face the week with curious anticipation, eager to see what He may bring my way, how we will handle the challenges together, and then, hopefully, I will be pleasantly surprised when I wake up and discover that it is indeed Friday.
I know not every week is a good week, and not every Monday is an grand day, but to spend precious hours and minutes wishing time away in my already way too short life just seems a little silly to me. God does not want me to presume on tomorrow, or worry about tomorrow, so why would He want me to worry about a day that is 5 days away? Wishing and hoping and counting will not make it come any faster, and will, in truth, make it seem like it’s taking longer.
Will I succeed in this? Probably not a hundred percent, but if I can improve my attitude on say 30 or 40 weeks out of 52 how much happier one year of life will be. Besides I don’t have to face Mondays alone. He’s walking beside me.
That’s it for today, Monday. Here’s to a better attitude and wonderful week.
TTFN*
Stevie
Copywright © 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
*Ta ta for now
If the weekend ended on Monday, Tuesday would be the bad day, so it’s not anything personal about Mondays, but neither should I spend my life wishing for future events. I miss out on a whole lot of living doing that. Besides I’m presuming that I have a tomorrow, and I just might not. I personally get tired of hearing people complain and whine and moan because the week end is over. Well it happens 52 times a year, and that’s a LOT of complaining.
I have determined that I am going to have a different attitude about Mondays. I’m going to greet the day and the beginning of the week with a grateful prayer that I am indeed given this day to honor God. I am going to face the week with curious anticipation, eager to see what He may bring my way, how we will handle the challenges together, and then, hopefully, I will be pleasantly surprised when I wake up and discover that it is indeed Friday.
I know not every week is a good week, and not every Monday is an grand day, but to spend precious hours and minutes wishing time away in my already way too short life just seems a little silly to me. God does not want me to presume on tomorrow, or worry about tomorrow, so why would He want me to worry about a day that is 5 days away? Wishing and hoping and counting will not make it come any faster, and will, in truth, make it seem like it’s taking longer.
Will I succeed in this? Probably not a hundred percent, but if I can improve my attitude on say 30 or 40 weeks out of 52 how much happier one year of life will be. Besides I don’t have to face Mondays alone. He’s walking beside me.
That’s it for today, Monday. Here’s to a better attitude and wonderful week.
TTFN*
Stevie
Copywright © 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
*Ta ta for now
Monday, August 9, 2010
I Threw A Fit
I went to the neighborhood discount store last night about 7:45 p.m. BIG MISTAKE! It was family night at the local store. Some people were there to shop (me) and some people were just meandering along the aisles (everybody else). I should have known I was in trouble when I got one of the last 6 baskets in the basket area. At that point heading for the exit would have been the best course of action, but since I had no food and no toothpaste at home, it was a trip born of necessity.
First off, I hadn’t had a very restful weekend, second it was hot, and third I had been swimming most of the afternoon so I was hot from the sun. I had a few things I really needed and that’s all I was going to get. But people kept wandering into my path. Or they were stopped cold in the aisles as they marked stuff off lists or gazed glassy eyed trying to find something on a list.
Because it is so hot, nothing in the store sounded good to me as far as food goes, so I bought what I usually buy, again. They didn’t have half of what I was looking for and that always hacks me off, anyway. The shelves were empty, but the aisles were full of pallets of things I assume they re-stocked last night, but it did make negotiating their already over stuffed aisles dangerous. Mom, and Dad and their thirteen children didn’t help either. So by now my pressure cooker is simmering. I bought some apple slices and then went to look for bananas. They had ONE. ONE GREEN BANANA. I guess King Kong must have been in town and wiped them out.
I get to the check out stand and the lady at the front is having to put parts of her bill on several cards. That’s always so pleasant. Finally she pays cash, but wait, she has more stuff on the conveyer so she has to pay for that separate. By now, any semblance of patience I had is gone. Plus I am by the self check out and I constantly hear please place item in the bagging area. Thank you for shopping at (insert store name here) please place item in the bagging area.
Finally it’s my turn and I check out. I ask the guy if that animated talking ever drives him crazy and he did admit it got a little annoying. I’d be attacking those speakers with an axe if I had to work beside it. I pay and gather my bags and head for the door.
I get behind a meanderer so I slow down. He looks as if he’s going straight so I turn to try to go around him and suddenly he turns to go out. He turned around and looked at me, so I looked back at him. Followed him through the exit door then I took off right while he went straight. Got to my car and low and behold he was parked right beside me. I was unloading my groceries and his kid is standing there staring at me. I load a couple more bags, more staring, so I finally stopped and stared back. She turned and went behind her dad. Put up my basket and sat there waiting for them to back out, trying to show him that I really was a patient person. Finally they did. By now, my pressure cooker is whistling to beat the band.
Drove home and pulled my bags out of the car and noticed milk on the floor. Great. Get in the house, the bag has milk in the bottom, so I empty what little I still have in my old carton into a pitcher and put the new milk in the old carton. That did it. The lid came off the too small trashcan and slid across the floor. I threw the milk carton in the trash and that sent the dogs to parts unknown and brought my housemate in from her room. The fit lasted long enough for me to get everything out and then I was fine. It was more of a hissy fit, not big enough for a conniption fit, but too small for just a fit. I made her promise that if I ever said I was going to (insert store name here) at 8:00 on a Sunday night she was going out and lay down in front of my car and not let me pass. I think at that point she would have promised anything.
So I’m calmed down, and eating my apple slices I bought yesterday, and happened to notice that they are best if eaten by TODAY. I think that may be the last straw. I will not go to that store again, unless it’s a dire emergency, for at least this week.
Fitfully yours,
Stevie
Copywrite © Stevie Stevens Fort Worth, TX 2010. For Information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
First off, I hadn’t had a very restful weekend, second it was hot, and third I had been swimming most of the afternoon so I was hot from the sun. I had a few things I really needed and that’s all I was going to get. But people kept wandering into my path. Or they were stopped cold in the aisles as they marked stuff off lists or gazed glassy eyed trying to find something on a list.
Because it is so hot, nothing in the store sounded good to me as far as food goes, so I bought what I usually buy, again. They didn’t have half of what I was looking for and that always hacks me off, anyway. The shelves were empty, but the aisles were full of pallets of things I assume they re-stocked last night, but it did make negotiating their already over stuffed aisles dangerous. Mom, and Dad and their thirteen children didn’t help either. So by now my pressure cooker is simmering. I bought some apple slices and then went to look for bananas. They had ONE. ONE GREEN BANANA. I guess King Kong must have been in town and wiped them out.
I get to the check out stand and the lady at the front is having to put parts of her bill on several cards. That’s always so pleasant. Finally she pays cash, but wait, she has more stuff on the conveyer so she has to pay for that separate. By now, any semblance of patience I had is gone. Plus I am by the self check out and I constantly hear please place item in the bagging area. Thank you for shopping at (insert store name here) please place item in the bagging area.
Finally it’s my turn and I check out. I ask the guy if that animated talking ever drives him crazy and he did admit it got a little annoying. I’d be attacking those speakers with an axe if I had to work beside it. I pay and gather my bags and head for the door.
I get behind a meanderer so I slow down. He looks as if he’s going straight so I turn to try to go around him and suddenly he turns to go out. He turned around and looked at me, so I looked back at him. Followed him through the exit door then I took off right while he went straight. Got to my car and low and behold he was parked right beside me. I was unloading my groceries and his kid is standing there staring at me. I load a couple more bags, more staring, so I finally stopped and stared back. She turned and went behind her dad. Put up my basket and sat there waiting for them to back out, trying to show him that I really was a patient person. Finally they did. By now, my pressure cooker is whistling to beat the band.
Drove home and pulled my bags out of the car and noticed milk on the floor. Great. Get in the house, the bag has milk in the bottom, so I empty what little I still have in my old carton into a pitcher and put the new milk in the old carton. That did it. The lid came off the too small trashcan and slid across the floor. I threw the milk carton in the trash and that sent the dogs to parts unknown and brought my housemate in from her room. The fit lasted long enough for me to get everything out and then I was fine. It was more of a hissy fit, not big enough for a conniption fit, but too small for just a fit. I made her promise that if I ever said I was going to (insert store name here) at 8:00 on a Sunday night she was going out and lay down in front of my car and not let me pass. I think at that point she would have promised anything.
So I’m calmed down, and eating my apple slices I bought yesterday, and happened to notice that they are best if eaten by TODAY. I think that may be the last straw. I will not go to that store again, unless it’s a dire emergency, for at least this week.
Fitfully yours,
Stevie
Copywrite © Stevie Stevens Fort Worth, TX 2010. For Information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Friday, July 30, 2010
A D D . . . OLD AGE . . .OR BRAIN LEAKAGE?
Grabbed my bag, grabbed my purse and headed out the door this morning, my breakfast and water in one hand, my keys in the other, typical day like any other. My housemate had left before me, so I was on door locking duty. My habit is to grab the newspaper off the porch, put it in my bag and I read it at work.
So, locked the door, and glanced across the street and the guy’s car is still there in the driveway. It seemed odd because we usually leave about the same time and I was running late. Things are not well across the street, because his wife, daughter, two sons, daughter in law and grandson have all moved out of the house, so it’s just him and their three to five dogs. Not sure on the count.
Why this is important is that the dogs have been getting out lately, so we’ve taken to watching to try to put them back in the fence when we see them. By “we” I mean my housemate Penny. So my glance included whether or not any of his dogs were loose. They weren’t. And this paragraph is a monument to the first three letters of my title, A D D, because I certainly am chasing rabbits right now. FOCUS!
I locked the door and turned to grab the paper and my attention was drawn to the fact that the neighbor was still there, so I thought, good for him, he’s taken the day off today. Then I got to wondering if he was feeling a little abandoned by his family, since he is the only one there now, except for the dogs, and started feeling a little sorry for him. I shut the screen and unlocked my car and climbed in. Got to work and realized I’d forgotten to grab the newspaper. Sigh. Threw my whole routine off.
Since I forgot the hard copy at home, I went on line to scan the news, and clicked on a story I wanted to read and the link took me to another story. Okay. Had no interest in that story so I clicked my link again. The same thing. Now you would think twice would convince me that the link is faulty, oh no, I clicked it twice more just to make sure, then called the thing stupid. Yeah, IT’S stupid.
I think I choose to blame this one on A D D. My focus got shifted off the newspaper and it got left behind. Old age is when I walk into a room and can’t remember what I went in there for, or I open the cabinet and there sits the milk, or open the refrigerator and find the mail.
Brain Leakage? That’s my favorite.
That’s when all the useless information I have stored in my brain finally gets a chance to come out. Usually at the most inopportune times, and the most random statements get made. What’s funny is the person on the receiving end doesn’t know I’ve already had a whole conversation in my head and they are just hearing the end result. You ought to try it sometime. It’s a hoot. I actually believe my eyes twinkle when that happens. It’s a candid camera moment.
Till next time, thanks for playing!
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Fort Worth, TX - Stevie Stevens. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
So, locked the door, and glanced across the street and the guy’s car is still there in the driveway. It seemed odd because we usually leave about the same time and I was running late. Things are not well across the street, because his wife, daughter, two sons, daughter in law and grandson have all moved out of the house, so it’s just him and their three to five dogs. Not sure on the count.
Why this is important is that the dogs have been getting out lately, so we’ve taken to watching to try to put them back in the fence when we see them. By “we” I mean my housemate Penny. So my glance included whether or not any of his dogs were loose. They weren’t. And this paragraph is a monument to the first three letters of my title, A D D, because I certainly am chasing rabbits right now. FOCUS!
I locked the door and turned to grab the paper and my attention was drawn to the fact that the neighbor was still there, so I thought, good for him, he’s taken the day off today. Then I got to wondering if he was feeling a little abandoned by his family, since he is the only one there now, except for the dogs, and started feeling a little sorry for him. I shut the screen and unlocked my car and climbed in. Got to work and realized I’d forgotten to grab the newspaper. Sigh. Threw my whole routine off.
Since I forgot the hard copy at home, I went on line to scan the news, and clicked on a story I wanted to read and the link took me to another story. Okay. Had no interest in that story so I clicked my link again. The same thing. Now you would think twice would convince me that the link is faulty, oh no, I clicked it twice more just to make sure, then called the thing stupid. Yeah, IT’S stupid.
I think I choose to blame this one on A D D. My focus got shifted off the newspaper and it got left behind. Old age is when I walk into a room and can’t remember what I went in there for, or I open the cabinet and there sits the milk, or open the refrigerator and find the mail.
Brain Leakage? That’s my favorite.
That’s when all the useless information I have stored in my brain finally gets a chance to come out. Usually at the most inopportune times, and the most random statements get made. What’s funny is the person on the receiving end doesn’t know I’ve already had a whole conversation in my head and they are just hearing the end result. You ought to try it sometime. It’s a hoot. I actually believe my eyes twinkle when that happens. It’s a candid camera moment.
Till next time, thanks for playing!
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Fort Worth, TX - Stevie Stevens. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Monday, July 26, 2010
My Heroes
I’m putting pen to paper as I’m propped up in bed. It’s nearly midnight and I have to be up to go to work in just a few hours, but the words won’t let me sleep—not till I get them out of my head and on to paper.
I wrote an e-mail earlier today about Queen Liliuokalani and mentioned she was a hero of mine and that got me to thinking about heroes in general. Don’t know if heroes is the correct word, but is it the best description for now.
So indulge me as I share some of mine. When you get your own blog, you can share yours.
Deborah. The only female judge mentioned in the Bible. The original woman in a combat zone.
Queen Esther. For such a time as this. Life or death decisions from a man she married, but hardly knew. She saved her people.
Mary, the mother of Jesus. An unwed, pregnant girl, chosen to be the mother of the savior of the world. How at odds she must have felt with the traditions of her world and promises of the new world her son brought.
Mary, the sister of Lazarus. Shocked a room full of men by using a bottle of perfume as a foot bath. The reasons were lost on all but Jesus.
Maratha, the sister of Lazarus. I refuse to call her the “other” sister, or also the sister, as she is just as important as Mary. She tried so hard. I’d like to think that she mended her ways and became a little more “Mary like”.
Clara Barton and Florence Nightingale. Both of these women sacrificed much to bring relief and treatment to injured and dying soldiers. Standing firm in the face of opposition, they saved lives in time of war. Ms. Barton went on to found the Red Cross and ended up forced out of her own organization and losing her health.
Amelia Earhart. She had an adventurous dream and it cost her her life.
Queen Liliuokalani of Hawai’i. She only wanted what was best for her people. She was jailed and eventually lost her kingdom. She was dignified and respectful through the whole affair.
My grandmother, Esther Stevens. She was a divorced single mom who raised three children at a time when it was socially unacceptable. She gave them her strength and her strong faith in God.
My Aunt Gladys Pierce. She took a lot of good natured ribbing from the family. She spent most of her teaching career with mentally challenged students. She never married, but fiercely loved her nieces and nephews. I’ve been told I’m a lot like her. She gave all children her love and respect.
Friends that God has put in my path: Grandma O, Grandma Jackie, Mary, Charlotte, Sher, Beverly, Penny and Tina, Joyce, Kathy and Cathy . I’ve learned so much just by association. They each give the best parts of themselves.
My niece, Heather. She had her life turned upside down and shaken and has landed on her feet. She gives love to her son and compassion to those she meets through work. Her faith, determination and sense of humor has brought her through much, and will continue to serve her well. I love you, H.
My mother. She gave me life. She showed patience, as I was a strong willed, manipulative child, and she always gave me just enough rope to let me hang myself on several occasions, yet she never let go of the other end. I love you, Mom.
Thank you God for heroes.
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Fort Worth, Texas, Stevie Stevens. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
I wrote an e-mail earlier today about Queen Liliuokalani and mentioned she was a hero of mine and that got me to thinking about heroes in general. Don’t know if heroes is the correct word, but is it the best description for now.
So indulge me as I share some of mine. When you get your own blog, you can share yours.
Deborah. The only female judge mentioned in the Bible. The original woman in a combat zone.
Queen Esther. For such a time as this. Life or death decisions from a man she married, but hardly knew. She saved her people.
Mary, the mother of Jesus. An unwed, pregnant girl, chosen to be the mother of the savior of the world. How at odds she must have felt with the traditions of her world and promises of the new world her son brought.
Mary, the sister of Lazarus. Shocked a room full of men by using a bottle of perfume as a foot bath. The reasons were lost on all but Jesus.
Maratha, the sister of Lazarus. I refuse to call her the “other” sister, or also the sister, as she is just as important as Mary. She tried so hard. I’d like to think that she mended her ways and became a little more “Mary like”.
Clara Barton and Florence Nightingale. Both of these women sacrificed much to bring relief and treatment to injured and dying soldiers. Standing firm in the face of opposition, they saved lives in time of war. Ms. Barton went on to found the Red Cross and ended up forced out of her own organization and losing her health.
Amelia Earhart. She had an adventurous dream and it cost her her life.
Queen Liliuokalani of Hawai’i. She only wanted what was best for her people. She was jailed and eventually lost her kingdom. She was dignified and respectful through the whole affair.
My grandmother, Esther Stevens. She was a divorced single mom who raised three children at a time when it was socially unacceptable. She gave them her strength and her strong faith in God.
My Aunt Gladys Pierce. She took a lot of good natured ribbing from the family. She spent most of her teaching career with mentally challenged students. She never married, but fiercely loved her nieces and nephews. I’ve been told I’m a lot like her. She gave all children her love and respect.
Friends that God has put in my path: Grandma O, Grandma Jackie, Mary, Charlotte, Sher, Beverly, Penny and Tina, Joyce, Kathy and Cathy . I’ve learned so much just by association. They each give the best parts of themselves.
My niece, Heather. She had her life turned upside down and shaken and has landed on her feet. She gives love to her son and compassion to those she meets through work. Her faith, determination and sense of humor has brought her through much, and will continue to serve her well. I love you, H.
My mother. She gave me life. She showed patience, as I was a strong willed, manipulative child, and she always gave me just enough rope to let me hang myself on several occasions, yet she never let go of the other end. I love you, Mom.
Thank you God for heroes.
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Fort Worth, Texas, Stevie Stevens. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
Friday, July 9, 2010
I DON'T WANNA WEEK
This was an IDON’TWANNA WEEK. Started with a holiday and then I didn’t want to come back to work, I didn’t want to go to small group, I didn’t want to go to Weight Watchers . . . you name it!
In the midst of the IDON’TWANNA WEEK, I reached a milestone in that I set and reached my Weight Watchers goal. This has been an on-going journey since March of 2008. I didn’t see myself as “whale woman” but knew I needed to lose a few pounds, so off I started, one step at a time, one ounce at a time -- which is really how every journey starts.
I just put my foot out there and off I went. I snacked and munched my way through vacations, holidays and weekends at my parent’s snack laden house. I walked mile after mile burning off calories and sweating. I lost 20 pounds then 30 until I reached yesterday when I had lost a grand total of 47.6 pounds. That is a 2 year old child. That is 190.4 pounds of pressure off my knees when I walk.
Yes, I’m pleased with my success, and the surprised looks I get from people I haven’t seen in a while are great, but that’s not what this is about. This is about that I didn’t want to go to WW yesterday. I knew I had gained, I knew it would be futile, I knew negatives to infinity and beyond, yet I went. Actually I kind of dragged myself there, and look at the good thing that happened! Goal and six weeks to Lifetime membership.
Part of it was that I have been struggling some the past few weeks with the sameness of ordinary life. That nothing major is planned. God and I have been visiting about it, and I got to spend time with my favorite 14 year old and my favorite 10 month old on Sunday. I got to spend Monday with my favorite 10 month old as well. Then I reached a goal yesterday. Been a long time since I set and reached a goal--feels good. Didn’t run out and eat a big Mexican food dinner either. Mostly because I can’t eat big any more, but that is not the reward I want for all this. I posted a before and after picture on Facebook and the comments have been great, but that’s not why I did it either.
Why did I do it? I don’t really know. The doctor suggested I lose a few pounds, but didn’t insist, I just did it because I was nudged by the owner of the temple. I had let my body go and wasn’t honoring God because I was out of shape, so he nudged me. He took the spoon out of my mouth, he helped me walk away from the animal cookies, gravy, birthday cake and large Sonic cokes I kept shoving in my mouth. He walks with me by the river in the 100 degree heat and he smiles down at me at every .2 weight loss. The owner of the temple is pleased with my progress.
And He sees my struggles. That .2 I lost yesterday put me at goal. Sometimes the bigness is in the small things, .2 weight loss, time with special people. And sometimes I just need to climb up in the lap of the one who made me and let him hold me a while, to soothe the hurt feelings, kiss away the tears and let me know he is pleased with me. Remind me that he delights in me. Just as I am, Then he nudges and I become better. He nudges and I WANT to become better.
Not bad for an IDON’TWANNA WEEK.
Here’s to nudges.
Stevie
copywrite © Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX July 2010. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
In the midst of the IDON’TWANNA WEEK, I reached a milestone in that I set and reached my Weight Watchers goal. This has been an on-going journey since March of 2008. I didn’t see myself as “whale woman” but knew I needed to lose a few pounds, so off I started, one step at a time, one ounce at a time -- which is really how every journey starts.
I just put my foot out there and off I went. I snacked and munched my way through vacations, holidays and weekends at my parent’s snack laden house. I walked mile after mile burning off calories and sweating. I lost 20 pounds then 30 until I reached yesterday when I had lost a grand total of 47.6 pounds. That is a 2 year old child. That is 190.4 pounds of pressure off my knees when I walk.
Yes, I’m pleased with my success, and the surprised looks I get from people I haven’t seen in a while are great, but that’s not what this is about. This is about that I didn’t want to go to WW yesterday. I knew I had gained, I knew it would be futile, I knew negatives to infinity and beyond, yet I went. Actually I kind of dragged myself there, and look at the good thing that happened! Goal and six weeks to Lifetime membership.
Part of it was that I have been struggling some the past few weeks with the sameness of ordinary life. That nothing major is planned. God and I have been visiting about it, and I got to spend time with my favorite 14 year old and my favorite 10 month old on Sunday. I got to spend Monday with my favorite 10 month old as well. Then I reached a goal yesterday. Been a long time since I set and reached a goal--feels good. Didn’t run out and eat a big Mexican food dinner either. Mostly because I can’t eat big any more, but that is not the reward I want for all this. I posted a before and after picture on Facebook and the comments have been great, but that’s not why I did it either.
Why did I do it? I don’t really know. The doctor suggested I lose a few pounds, but didn’t insist, I just did it because I was nudged by the owner of the temple. I had let my body go and wasn’t honoring God because I was out of shape, so he nudged me. He took the spoon out of my mouth, he helped me walk away from the animal cookies, gravy, birthday cake and large Sonic cokes I kept shoving in my mouth. He walks with me by the river in the 100 degree heat and he smiles down at me at every .2 weight loss. The owner of the temple is pleased with my progress.
And He sees my struggles. That .2 I lost yesterday put me at goal. Sometimes the bigness is in the small things, .2 weight loss, time with special people. And sometimes I just need to climb up in the lap of the one who made me and let him hold me a while, to soothe the hurt feelings, kiss away the tears and let me know he is pleased with me. Remind me that he delights in me. Just as I am, Then he nudges and I become better. He nudges and I WANT to become better.
Not bad for an IDON’TWANNA WEEK.
Here’s to nudges.
Stevie
copywrite © Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX July 2010. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Friday, July 2, 2010
Fourth of July
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic, for which it stands, one nation, UNDER GOD, indivisible with
liberty and justice for all.
My country was founded by valiant men and women who came over seeking a new start, free from religious oppression. They stepped ashore at Plymouth Rock. They endured indescribable hardships as they sewed the seeds for a new nation.
As the colonies grew, so did the taxation from England, until they were in dire circumstances and most of the money in the new world went back to England.
Finally having enough revolution broke out and my country was born. Courageous men signed their names to the Declaration of Independence not caring what the consequences might be. That’s the holiday we celebrate this week-end, the beginning of our nation. Thirteen colonies united to become one country UNDER GOD. To these great men, less government was better. How different from our government today where more is more.
I am proud to be an American. I get goosebumps when the Star Spangled Banner is played and tears come to my eyes when I see row after row of white cross headstones. People fought and died for this country, and it seems our leaders of today are spitting on their sacrifice.
So in the midsts of our bar-b-ques, and fireworks and family time, let’s pause a moment to remember all those who have fought and are fighting to keep the free in freedom.
Patriotically yours,
Stevie
copywrite 2010, Fort Worth, TX by Stevie Stevens. For information contact Faithleap@sbcgloba.net
liberty and justice for all.
My country was founded by valiant men and women who came over seeking a new start, free from religious oppression. They stepped ashore at Plymouth Rock. They endured indescribable hardships as they sewed the seeds for a new nation.
As the colonies grew, so did the taxation from England, until they were in dire circumstances and most of the money in the new world went back to England.
Finally having enough revolution broke out and my country was born. Courageous men signed their names to the Declaration of Independence not caring what the consequences might be. That’s the holiday we celebrate this week-end, the beginning of our nation. Thirteen colonies united to become one country UNDER GOD. To these great men, less government was better. How different from our government today where more is more.
I am proud to be an American. I get goosebumps when the Star Spangled Banner is played and tears come to my eyes when I see row after row of white cross headstones. People fought and died for this country, and it seems our leaders of today are spitting on their sacrifice.
So in the midsts of our bar-b-ques, and fireworks and family time, let’s pause a moment to remember all those who have fought and are fighting to keep the free in freedom.
Patriotically yours,
Stevie
copywrite 2010, Fort Worth, TX by Stevie Stevens. For information contact Faithleap@sbcgloba.net
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Waiting
I was reading a blog today and this lady cracked me up. She had written the whole blog standing up wrapped in a robe waiting for her spray on tan to dry. That got me to thinking about the number of things that I, as a woman, will wait for and the other million things, that I, as a woman, will NOT wait for, so here are a few:
I will spend hours shopping for the perfect dress, or shoes or purse, but five minutes for a lawnmower or weedeater.
I spend over an hour at the nail salon getting my nails done, but when I paint a wall I want it dry in 30 seconds so I can move the furniture back.
I can wait for my great nephew to wake up from his nap, but if a red light goes longer than a minute, I’m irritable. (My housemate would say I’m in a continual state of irritability due to red lights, and the good news is I may be getting my first ever red light camera ticket here in the next few days. I’m psyched.)
I wait for two minutes to brush my teeth, but filling my car with gas is a waste of 10 minutes.
I wait to scan the newspaper till I get to work, but if my e-mail, Facebook or Twitter doesn’t load instantaneously, I’m ticked.
I’ll wait in line to ride a roller coaster, but not to find a parking place.
I’ll sit for hours painting a t-shirt, but if I can’t get a screw to go in the wall on the first three turns, I’m done.
I’ll walk my great nephew around and around, but don’t get in front of me in the fast lane and drive slow.
I won’t wait on anything mechanical that ceases to function as it should: Lawnmowers, vacuum cleaners, weed whackers, sewing machines, cars, phones, computers, crowded freezers, etc. The object of my wrath, will usually be flung across the room, out the front door, or to the curb.
I am as much a victim of the MTV age as the younger ones are. My attention span has gotten shorter and I am unable to wait, patiently or otherwise. I think my ADD is kicking in, because this blog is causing me to act like an internet search and go from one thing to another, but I will try to reign it in and reach some kind of conclusion.
I miss a lot by not being able to wait. It’s a lost art. “Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him” Psalm 37:7. (NIV) “Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the LORD is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him.” Isaiah 30:18. (NIV)
Until next time. I’m waiting . . .
Stevie
I will spend hours shopping for the perfect dress, or shoes or purse, but five minutes for a lawnmower or weedeater.
I spend over an hour at the nail salon getting my nails done, but when I paint a wall I want it dry in 30 seconds so I can move the furniture back.
I can wait for my great nephew to wake up from his nap, but if a red light goes longer than a minute, I’m irritable. (My housemate would say I’m in a continual state of irritability due to red lights, and the good news is I may be getting my first ever red light camera ticket here in the next few days. I’m psyched.)
I wait for two minutes to brush my teeth, but filling my car with gas is a waste of 10 minutes.
I wait to scan the newspaper till I get to work, but if my e-mail, Facebook or Twitter doesn’t load instantaneously, I’m ticked.
I’ll wait in line to ride a roller coaster, but not to find a parking place.
I’ll sit for hours painting a t-shirt, but if I can’t get a screw to go in the wall on the first three turns, I’m done.
I’ll walk my great nephew around and around, but don’t get in front of me in the fast lane and drive slow.
I won’t wait on anything mechanical that ceases to function as it should: Lawnmowers, vacuum cleaners, weed whackers, sewing machines, cars, phones, computers, crowded freezers, etc. The object of my wrath, will usually be flung across the room, out the front door, or to the curb.
I am as much a victim of the MTV age as the younger ones are. My attention span has gotten shorter and I am unable to wait, patiently or otherwise. I think my ADD is kicking in, because this blog is causing me to act like an internet search and go from one thing to another, but I will try to reign it in and reach some kind of conclusion.
I miss a lot by not being able to wait. It’s a lost art. “Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him” Psalm 37:7. (NIV) “Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the LORD is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him.” Isaiah 30:18. (NIV)
Until next time. I’m waiting . . .
Stevie
Monday, June 7, 2010
Soapbox Day – Commercials
Can we talk - - COMMERCIALS? I know we all have our favorites and ones we absolutely mute every time they come on, but I have started my List of the Stupidest Commercials. The sad part is, I can’t even tell you what they sell!
I’m talking about the commercials that when they are over you look around and say wow, that’s a minute of my life I’ll never get back or just how stupid do they think we are?
Obviously on the top of the list are the infomercials where they are talking with four ladies supposedly looking like the ones on The View and they are all serious and hawking their book or tapes or Lord’s Prayer written on a grain of sand. I’ve timed them, that’s what I do for kicks, time commercials to see how long they can go. Four minutes. How they really make their money is getting the public to fork over 29.99 for the book, but wait, if you order in the next 2 seconds they will double the offer and you can have two useless items for the price of one, PLUS the polishing cloth and velvet lined storage box. Great Easter/Christmas/Mother’s Day/ Father’s Day/St. Swiven’s Day gifts. And you can order as many as you want and only pay $49.95 in shipping fees. Let the dialing begin!
But let’s leave Cable for the moment and go to the mainstream tv commercials. I know they are a necessary evil. I know PR and Advertising firms have to make a buck as well, but really, two chimps with an etch a sketch could come up with some of these campaigns. Oh wait, maybe they did!
I do love the candy bar commercials with Betty White, Abe Vigoda, Liza Minelli and the other singer where they are whining or divas and they eat the candy bar and turn back into other people. And the band that hawks credit reports, who is being retired by the way. The talking babies and lizard are always good for a chuckle and the lady with the big hair selling insurance.
However, the following need to be retired TODAY. The tube sock who shocks the old man on the tongue after walking on the carpet. The car that has the production number around it, parachutes dropping in, marching band, helicopter, that’s a little excessive. The food that slaps people in the face as they try to take a bite. That’s just scary. The new commercial where people are filming their progress eating yogurt. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to know in great detail how the yogurt is helping them. Some things should remain private or at least be a new Jerry Springer show, People who eat yogurt and the yogurt that helps them. Any lawyer ad, be it mesothelioma or birth control or whatever drug was taken or whatever bad thing a doctor did to you or for you.
And the drug ads. Fibromyalgia, depression, incontinence, erectile dysfunction, alzheimers, osteoporosis, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, peripheral artery disease, or birth control. By the time you listen to the commercial you are convinced you have it until they list the side effects: may cause shortness of breath, hives, swelling of the tongue and mouth, ears to fall off, hair to fall out, one leg to get shorter than the other, numbness or tingling in your fingernails, eyes cross and teeth turn black. Oh, and it may lead to more severe side effects like death. If you suffer any of these please check with your physician. Okay, I’m DEAD just exactly HOW do I check with my physician? Oh right, see the lawyer ads and make my family wealthy. I get it now. And why, oh why, do all the erectile dysfunction people end up sitting in separate clawfoot bathtubs out in the middle of nowhere? That’s kind of like all those perfume commercials that I never understand.
Then we have the celebrity endorsements for reverse mortgages, mattresses, osteoporosis, sunglasses, life insurance, yogurt, and my favorite, hearing aids. Where is Robert Conrad with his battery when we need him? Although I do like some of the travel commercials with Captain Kirk, but we all knew he didn’t have any pride before he started. And the guy that sells insurance has such a calming voice over as the cars crash into each other. All I can say is I hope they are well compensated.
But the number one stupidest commercial EVER is the talking fish in the purse and the lady is walking along with a pleasant look on her face, like she doesn’t realize she has this talking Billy Bass in her bag and it’s carrying on a conversation with the other seafood at the market. I truly am dumber after that commercial than I was before I started. And these are just the ones I remember. I know there are others.
So those are my picks, as always the opinions expressed in the blog are mine and if you don’t like them, you don’t have to read them. As you can see I didn’t name any product and will not because as I said earlier I don’t know what they are selling because their commercials hack me off so much I mute them. And another thing, stop making the commercials so LOUD. I have a volume button, if you are selling something I want, I will turn it up to hear otherwise I just hit mute to shut you up.
From my soap box today, I am
Stevie
Copywrite 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
I’m talking about the commercials that when they are over you look around and say wow, that’s a minute of my life I’ll never get back or just how stupid do they think we are?
Obviously on the top of the list are the infomercials where they are talking with four ladies supposedly looking like the ones on The View and they are all serious and hawking their book or tapes or Lord’s Prayer written on a grain of sand. I’ve timed them, that’s what I do for kicks, time commercials to see how long they can go. Four minutes. How they really make their money is getting the public to fork over 29.99 for the book, but wait, if you order in the next 2 seconds they will double the offer and you can have two useless items for the price of one, PLUS the polishing cloth and velvet lined storage box. Great Easter/Christmas/Mother’s Day/ Father’s Day/St. Swiven’s Day gifts. And you can order as many as you want and only pay $49.95 in shipping fees. Let the dialing begin!
But let’s leave Cable for the moment and go to the mainstream tv commercials. I know they are a necessary evil. I know PR and Advertising firms have to make a buck as well, but really, two chimps with an etch a sketch could come up with some of these campaigns. Oh wait, maybe they did!
I do love the candy bar commercials with Betty White, Abe Vigoda, Liza Minelli and the other singer where they are whining or divas and they eat the candy bar and turn back into other people. And the band that hawks credit reports, who is being retired by the way. The talking babies and lizard are always good for a chuckle and the lady with the big hair selling insurance.
However, the following need to be retired TODAY. The tube sock who shocks the old man on the tongue after walking on the carpet. The car that has the production number around it, parachutes dropping in, marching band, helicopter, that’s a little excessive. The food that slaps people in the face as they try to take a bite. That’s just scary. The new commercial where people are filming their progress eating yogurt. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to know in great detail how the yogurt is helping them. Some things should remain private or at least be a new Jerry Springer show, People who eat yogurt and the yogurt that helps them. Any lawyer ad, be it mesothelioma or birth control or whatever drug was taken or whatever bad thing a doctor did to you or for you.
And the drug ads. Fibromyalgia, depression, incontinence, erectile dysfunction, alzheimers, osteoporosis, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, peripheral artery disease, or birth control. By the time you listen to the commercial you are convinced you have it until they list the side effects: may cause shortness of breath, hives, swelling of the tongue and mouth, ears to fall off, hair to fall out, one leg to get shorter than the other, numbness or tingling in your fingernails, eyes cross and teeth turn black. Oh, and it may lead to more severe side effects like death. If you suffer any of these please check with your physician. Okay, I’m DEAD just exactly HOW do I check with my physician? Oh right, see the lawyer ads and make my family wealthy. I get it now. And why, oh why, do all the erectile dysfunction people end up sitting in separate clawfoot bathtubs out in the middle of nowhere? That’s kind of like all those perfume commercials that I never understand.
Then we have the celebrity endorsements for reverse mortgages, mattresses, osteoporosis, sunglasses, life insurance, yogurt, and my favorite, hearing aids. Where is Robert Conrad with his battery when we need him? Although I do like some of the travel commercials with Captain Kirk, but we all knew he didn’t have any pride before he started. And the guy that sells insurance has such a calming voice over as the cars crash into each other. All I can say is I hope they are well compensated.
But the number one stupidest commercial EVER is the talking fish in the purse and the lady is walking along with a pleasant look on her face, like she doesn’t realize she has this talking Billy Bass in her bag and it’s carrying on a conversation with the other seafood at the market. I truly am dumber after that commercial than I was before I started. And these are just the ones I remember. I know there are others.
So those are my picks, as always the opinions expressed in the blog are mine and if you don’t like them, you don’t have to read them. As you can see I didn’t name any product and will not because as I said earlier I don’t know what they are selling because their commercials hack me off so much I mute them. And another thing, stop making the commercials so LOUD. I have a volume button, if you are selling something I want, I will turn it up to hear otherwise I just hit mute to shut you up.
From my soap box today, I am
Stevie
Copywrite 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Summer – The Way it was Meant to be Enjoyed
While not officially the “summer” season, it might as well be. Glassy eyed people report to the office, tired, sleepy because it’s summer and that means late nights with out-of-school kids, late running baseball games, and boating on the lake till dark thirty. None of those apply to me, however. I’m just tired and sleepy because it’s summer and I shouldn’t have to get up in the morning.
Lazy, hazy crazy days of summer says one song, living is easy says another. Summer conjures up tall glasses of cold lemonade with beads of sweat running down the side of the glass, making a puddle on Mom’s coffee table. Ice cold watermelon cut in circles that just fit the inside of the plate and shooting watermelon seeds at baby brother till Dad comes in then he joins in the fun till Mom appears. Whoops. Then we all are picking watermelon seeds up out of the corners of the dining room.
Walking barefoot through cool St. Augustine grass and laying under a big shade tree, with just a hint of a hot breeze lifting the tendrils of hair off hot sweaty necks. Not having to get up at 6:30 every morning and go to school. Dangling feet in a creek/lake/swimming pool until my toes are all pruney. Standard church of Christ Vacation Bible School, from 9 to 11 the first full week school is out. Two weeks of church camp at Cleburne State Park wearing jeans in hot humid weather; swimming in the lake and starlight devotionals. Cabins cooled by evaporative coolers, so everything feels damp. And mission trips to exotic places like Idaho Springs, Colorado.
There was the Summer Youth Series where once a week we drove into Fort Worth and went to a youth rally, then ate at Pancho’s or some other equally fine cuisine. There was no rushing or having to be somewhere. I was a kid and the grown ups worried about that stuff, I didn’t. The heat didn’t seem to bother me as my brother and I caught what we thought were crawdads at the creek. Summer, just the word brings back such vivid memories, sprinting across hot sidewalks so feet don’t burn, rolling car windows all the way down to get a breeze going. The carefree, unfettered summer days of youth.
Growing up stinks! Oh well, just for today, let’s pretend it’s the last day of school, eat our homemade cupcakes, scoop up our notebooks and head for the door.
Last one in the pool is a rotten egg!
Smiles,
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Stevie Stevens Fort Worth, TX. For information please contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Lazy, hazy crazy days of summer says one song, living is easy says another. Summer conjures up tall glasses of cold lemonade with beads of sweat running down the side of the glass, making a puddle on Mom’s coffee table. Ice cold watermelon cut in circles that just fit the inside of the plate and shooting watermelon seeds at baby brother till Dad comes in then he joins in the fun till Mom appears. Whoops. Then we all are picking watermelon seeds up out of the corners of the dining room.
Walking barefoot through cool St. Augustine grass and laying under a big shade tree, with just a hint of a hot breeze lifting the tendrils of hair off hot sweaty necks. Not having to get up at 6:30 every morning and go to school. Dangling feet in a creek/lake/swimming pool until my toes are all pruney. Standard church of Christ Vacation Bible School, from 9 to 11 the first full week school is out. Two weeks of church camp at Cleburne State Park wearing jeans in hot humid weather; swimming in the lake and starlight devotionals. Cabins cooled by evaporative coolers, so everything feels damp. And mission trips to exotic places like Idaho Springs, Colorado.
There was the Summer Youth Series where once a week we drove into Fort Worth and went to a youth rally, then ate at Pancho’s or some other equally fine cuisine. There was no rushing or having to be somewhere. I was a kid and the grown ups worried about that stuff, I didn’t. The heat didn’t seem to bother me as my brother and I caught what we thought were crawdads at the creek. Summer, just the word brings back such vivid memories, sprinting across hot sidewalks so feet don’t burn, rolling car windows all the way down to get a breeze going. The carefree, unfettered summer days of youth.
Growing up stinks! Oh well, just for today, let’s pretend it’s the last day of school, eat our homemade cupcakes, scoop up our notebooks and head for the door.
Last one in the pool is a rotten egg!
Smiles,
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Stevie Stevens Fort Worth, TX. For information please contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Sudden Change of Perspective
Was composing an e-mail to a friend detailing my complaints of the day, headache, didn’t sleep well, etc. and then I was stopped mid sentence. By voicing those complaints, I was giving them power. I was allowing them to become the focus of my thoughts and deeds and they were negative. I didn’t delete them, but I changed my tune.
Every good and perfect gift comes from my Father in heaven and today is a gift. And I was raining all over His precious gift to me with my negative complaints. Facebook contained several posts yesterday of Monday bashing. No, Monday is not my favorite day, but at least I was alive and kicking to live through it, lots of people weren’t. And I know God is up there shaking his head about how I complain over the little stuff and that’s because I give the big stuff to him, but I try to handle the little stuff myself.
Have you ever given someone a gift and were all excited because you spent lots of time and picked out something super special and they were kind of eh? That’s what I did to God this morning. He gave me this glorious Texas spring day gift wrapped, full of possibilities and I went eh. I’m sorry.
As I’ve said before, I do not bound out of bed in the morning, it takes the equivalent of TNT to blast me out, so I do not jump up ready to face the day, and God made me and I think he understands that, but I usually try to thank him for the night’s sleep, (as my Dad says “the rest of the night” which always confused me. We were sitting at the breakfast table and he was thanking him for the rest of the night when night was over. It took me years before I realized he was thanking him for the REST of the night.) And usually I will invite Him into my day, and I failed to do that this morning.
Every good and perfect gift comes from him and I rained all over this one. So from this second on I am taking him up on his offer to spend the day with me. I will invite him into every little thing I do today and see what surprises He has in store for me.
“Father, forgive me for ignoring you this morning and raining all over your gift to me. I look forward to spending the day with you, seeing things through your eyes. Thank you for your grace which covers my selfishness in ways I can’t even comprehend. I love you. Please take my hand and let’s discover this day together.”
Shalom,
Stevie
Copywrite © Stevie Stevens 2010 Fort Worth Texas for information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Every good and perfect gift comes from my Father in heaven and today is a gift. And I was raining all over His precious gift to me with my negative complaints. Facebook contained several posts yesterday of Monday bashing. No, Monday is not my favorite day, but at least I was alive and kicking to live through it, lots of people weren’t. And I know God is up there shaking his head about how I complain over the little stuff and that’s because I give the big stuff to him, but I try to handle the little stuff myself.
Have you ever given someone a gift and were all excited because you spent lots of time and picked out something super special and they were kind of eh? That’s what I did to God this morning. He gave me this glorious Texas spring day gift wrapped, full of possibilities and I went eh. I’m sorry.
As I’ve said before, I do not bound out of bed in the morning, it takes the equivalent of TNT to blast me out, so I do not jump up ready to face the day, and God made me and I think he understands that, but I usually try to thank him for the night’s sleep, (as my Dad says “the rest of the night” which always confused me. We were sitting at the breakfast table and he was thanking him for the rest of the night when night was over. It took me years before I realized he was thanking him for the REST of the night.) And usually I will invite Him into my day, and I failed to do that this morning.
Every good and perfect gift comes from him and I rained all over this one. So from this second on I am taking him up on his offer to spend the day with me. I will invite him into every little thing I do today and see what surprises He has in store for me.
“Father, forgive me for ignoring you this morning and raining all over your gift to me. I look forward to spending the day with you, seeing things through your eyes. Thank you for your grace which covers my selfishness in ways I can’t even comprehend. I love you. Please take my hand and let’s discover this day together.”
Shalom,
Stevie
Copywrite © Stevie Stevens 2010 Fort Worth Texas for information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Do Gooders versus Christ Doers
I saw a play back when I was in high school called Texas Meg. It was about an upper crust aunt and uncle who HAD to take in their niece, Meg, who was a country girl, because it was their CHRISTIAN DUTY. That phrase has resounded with me on more than one occasion. DUTY. Something that MUST be done, and not lovingly.
It was brought to mind the other day when I was e-mailing a friend talking about someone who coordinated a project in one of the neighborhoods here in town and that somebody needed to be in charge otherwise all the do gooders would be running into each other and duplicating efforts. But that’s not what I meant to say.
In my mind, I equate do gooders with the Pharisees of Jesus’ time. They do good to be seen of men. They think of the act and not the recipient. Need shoes, here, I don’t wear these anymore, you can have them. Not thinking about how that person feels getting second hand shoes. That’s not to say if I was barefoot and it was 20 degrees outside that I wouldn’t wear hand me down shoes, I’ve not been in that situation. Doing their Christian Duty, marking it off of their “to do” list and feeling rather sanctimonious that they gave up X number of hours on a Saturday or X number of dollars to help those poor people. Christian duty. Pharisees. Do Gooders.
I corrected myself and said that Christ doers also need to be coordinated to keep from duplicating efforts, but in my mind’s eye I see a completely different mind set. I see helping others while leaving them with their dignity in tact. New shoes still in the box or bag from the store, making sure they are the right size and fit. Not just, here, get rid of those ratty old things on your feet so I can feel good about helping, but let me help you try these on, if they don’t fit we’ll find some others. Things that Christ would do, in the manner that he would do it. And I think that is what sets do gooders and Christ doers apart.
Having been in and around churches most of my life, I’ve seen plenty of both. Working in Royal Family Kids’ Camps for the past 10 years, I saw the do gooders get weeded out pretty quickly because being a Christ doer is a bigger investment. Part of you gets left with the ones you help, and part of them comes away with you. That’s not to say I haven’t ever been a do gooder, I’m wired to fix things, so I will try to fix something even if it’s not best for that person, without a thought to manner in which I may be doing it. I shudder to think how many people have been “helped” by me in a fashion that dented their dignity, and that was the furthest thing from my mind. My intention was good but my execution wasn’t. Jesus is working on that with me and slowly I’m seeing the person first, and the needs second.
Do gooders also practice “checkbook charity”. The old, I’ll write a check but I don’t really want to get dirty premise. And yes, I’ve done my share of that as well, although most of the time my checkbook hasn’t been flush enough, so I’ve had no choice but to get my hands dirty. But that’s what Christ doers do. They are right there in the dirt and cold ministering to those who need. Jesus Christ didn’t sit in the temple and dole out miracles from afar, he was right there on the dusty roads, standing on the seashore, surrounded by the poorest of the poor, giving them what they needed most, a loving look, a helping hand, an acknowledgement that they existed in a society that ignored them.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve averted my eyes from the homeless begging for money on the street corners, refusing to look at them because I might see a person. Someone that society ignores. Something Christ would never do.
I understand that being a Christ doer is a lot more involved, more intimate than being a do gooder. I have to get closer than arm’s length, I have to get my hands dirty and maybe even my heart broken, but in the end, it’s easier, because I have a helper, an example, a savior to show me how. And after all is said and done, the reward is eternal.
Shalom
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Stevie Stevens Fort Worth, TX. Contact information: faithleap@sbcglobal.net
It was brought to mind the other day when I was e-mailing a friend talking about someone who coordinated a project in one of the neighborhoods here in town and that somebody needed to be in charge otherwise all the do gooders would be running into each other and duplicating efforts. But that’s not what I meant to say.
In my mind, I equate do gooders with the Pharisees of Jesus’ time. They do good to be seen of men. They think of the act and not the recipient. Need shoes, here, I don’t wear these anymore, you can have them. Not thinking about how that person feels getting second hand shoes. That’s not to say if I was barefoot and it was 20 degrees outside that I wouldn’t wear hand me down shoes, I’ve not been in that situation. Doing their Christian Duty, marking it off of their “to do” list and feeling rather sanctimonious that they gave up X number of hours on a Saturday or X number of dollars to help those poor people. Christian duty. Pharisees. Do Gooders.
I corrected myself and said that Christ doers also need to be coordinated to keep from duplicating efforts, but in my mind’s eye I see a completely different mind set. I see helping others while leaving them with their dignity in tact. New shoes still in the box or bag from the store, making sure they are the right size and fit. Not just, here, get rid of those ratty old things on your feet so I can feel good about helping, but let me help you try these on, if they don’t fit we’ll find some others. Things that Christ would do, in the manner that he would do it. And I think that is what sets do gooders and Christ doers apart.
Having been in and around churches most of my life, I’ve seen plenty of both. Working in Royal Family Kids’ Camps for the past 10 years, I saw the do gooders get weeded out pretty quickly because being a Christ doer is a bigger investment. Part of you gets left with the ones you help, and part of them comes away with you. That’s not to say I haven’t ever been a do gooder, I’m wired to fix things, so I will try to fix something even if it’s not best for that person, without a thought to manner in which I may be doing it. I shudder to think how many people have been “helped” by me in a fashion that dented their dignity, and that was the furthest thing from my mind. My intention was good but my execution wasn’t. Jesus is working on that with me and slowly I’m seeing the person first, and the needs second.
Do gooders also practice “checkbook charity”. The old, I’ll write a check but I don’t really want to get dirty premise. And yes, I’ve done my share of that as well, although most of the time my checkbook hasn’t been flush enough, so I’ve had no choice but to get my hands dirty. But that’s what Christ doers do. They are right there in the dirt and cold ministering to those who need. Jesus Christ didn’t sit in the temple and dole out miracles from afar, he was right there on the dusty roads, standing on the seashore, surrounded by the poorest of the poor, giving them what they needed most, a loving look, a helping hand, an acknowledgement that they existed in a society that ignored them.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve averted my eyes from the homeless begging for money on the street corners, refusing to look at them because I might see a person. Someone that society ignores. Something Christ would never do.
I understand that being a Christ doer is a lot more involved, more intimate than being a do gooder. I have to get closer than arm’s length, I have to get my hands dirty and maybe even my heart broken, but in the end, it’s easier, because I have a helper, an example, a savior to show me how. And after all is said and done, the reward is eternal.
Shalom
Stevie
Copywrite © 2010 Stevie Stevens Fort Worth, TX. Contact information: faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Monday, May 10, 2010
Sub-Moronic Imbeciles
This was going to be a ranting blog, but I have calmed down considerably since the event actually happened.
I ran into, almost literally, a sub-moronic imbecile on my way home the other night. Granted I was extremely tired, but that’s beside the point. The street I live on becomes a parking lot after about 7:00 p.m. Every house on my street has at least three cars and room to park two in the driveway, so needless to say it is almost like a pinball machine to drive down it, bouncing from side to side to avoid a collision.
It was a little before 9, so it was good and dark and I’m driving towards my house. A car is coming towards me so I slide into a hole between two parked cars. I pull out and keep going and there, silhouetted in the headlights of another oncoming car, I see a figure of a man standing beside a Cadillac pickup truck. To dodge another car, I pull in and wait, then it’s my turn, as I ease on up the street, it becomes clear to me that in the dark on a crowded street, this sub-moronic imbecile is WASHING HIS CAR. Not only is he washing his car, but because it is wet, he doesn’t hug it as I pass by, but stays about a foot and a half away from it. Well, he jumped on my last nerve. I got in the house and unloaded on my housemate about where was his keeper, and did he not have the sense God gave a turnip to get out of the street. Well, I’m sure she was ready to call my keeper at that point.
We’ve all been involved with SMI’s before. You know the ones you wonder how they got that far, did they escape from the home, did they chew through their foot to escape, is their keeper following behind with a butterfly net? Now, I know it’s wrong to jump to snap judgments about people. Okay, it’s wrong to judge people, but some people just ask for it.
I’ve decided I’m going to be a committee of one to rid the public of these SMI’s. I will have a stock of dunce caps which I will dole out on a case by case basis. My blog will be suspended while I do this. I leave for Washington DC in the morning . . .
Politically incorrect,
Stevie
I ran into, almost literally, a sub-moronic imbecile on my way home the other night. Granted I was extremely tired, but that’s beside the point. The street I live on becomes a parking lot after about 7:00 p.m. Every house on my street has at least three cars and room to park two in the driveway, so needless to say it is almost like a pinball machine to drive down it, bouncing from side to side to avoid a collision.
It was a little before 9, so it was good and dark and I’m driving towards my house. A car is coming towards me so I slide into a hole between two parked cars. I pull out and keep going and there, silhouetted in the headlights of another oncoming car, I see a figure of a man standing beside a Cadillac pickup truck. To dodge another car, I pull in and wait, then it’s my turn, as I ease on up the street, it becomes clear to me that in the dark on a crowded street, this sub-moronic imbecile is WASHING HIS CAR. Not only is he washing his car, but because it is wet, he doesn’t hug it as I pass by, but stays about a foot and a half away from it. Well, he jumped on my last nerve. I got in the house and unloaded on my housemate about where was his keeper, and did he not have the sense God gave a turnip to get out of the street. Well, I’m sure she was ready to call my keeper at that point.
We’ve all been involved with SMI’s before. You know the ones you wonder how they got that far, did they escape from the home, did they chew through their foot to escape, is their keeper following behind with a butterfly net? Now, I know it’s wrong to jump to snap judgments about people. Okay, it’s wrong to judge people, but some people just ask for it.
I’ve decided I’m going to be a committee of one to rid the public of these SMI’s. I will have a stock of dunce caps which I will dole out on a case by case basis. My blog will be suspended while I do this. I leave for Washington DC in the morning . . .
Politically incorrect,
Stevie
Monday, April 26, 2010
Ramblings of a Tired Mind
Good Monday to each of you! This is a Monday after one of those week-ends that is choreographed like a dance in a musical, where if I’m delayed or miss one step the whole thing will collapse like a house of cards.
So to say that I bounded out of bed this morning, okay, so I never bound out of bed. I would do good to have a system of ropes and pulleys above my bed to lift me to a sitting position, then shove me into a standing position until I am fully vertical. As it is I kind of roll myself out of bed and face the morning through squinted eyes. As you may guess, I am NOT a morning person. But once again, I digress, even though I’m not exactly sure what this blog is about.
First it was Friday with K. Got to spend the afternoon with my great nephew and some of the afternoon with my oldest nephew. They are both amazing in their own right. K is crawling, so had to spend time in baby jail as he goes after the dog like a heat seeking missile. I did let him down and Romeo looked at me with glazed over eyes and jumped up on the couch. K does have a temper and it’s evident when you stop playing the I-dropped-it-on-the-floor-you-say-ah-oh-and-pick-it-up-and-hand-it-back-to-me-so-I-can-drop-it-on-the-floor-again game. I explained he got three times and then it was gone. When it was gone, he was not a happy camper. Trying to get him to sleep I sang Barney’s theme song until I thought I would morph into Baby Bop, then to keep sane I sang this old man he played two, he played knick knack on my shoe (which if you hum it is the same tune) then I went into Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which lead into Jesus Loves Me, You Are My Sunshine, Zipadedodah which segues nicely into a Spoonful of Sugar, then ended on Feed the Birds. I started singing My Grandfather’s Clock, tick tock tick tock, but it ends with the guy dying, so decided that wasn’t a wholesome naptime song.
I did learn the words to If all of the Raindrops song, so I don’t have to make them up anymore, which pleases everyone. Hey as long as they rhyme, I’m good to go. But that’s not a naptime song, that’s a eating song. So he finally laid down and slept a good solid hour. Then it was up for more fun and fussiness, but I guess it’s boring being in baby jail with all the toys you own piled in on top of you. He wants to be free to roam the far reaches of the dining room and chase the dog.
Saturday I spent in a simulcast with Beth Moore. I would move to Houston if I could go to work for that woman. If anybody has an “in” with her, I’m a dynamite administrative assistant. She is amazing. Her subject was Insecurity, and I firmly believe, after sitting through the simulcast and reading her book, So Long Insecurity, that 98% of the women in America could benefit by her teachings on this subject. There are 2% of women that I think are secure enough that they probably would waste their time reading it. She is so in tune to women and what we need. It’s so different from ages past when men would stand up and proclaim to an all woman audience what their problems were and how to fix them. I’m so glad we’ve evolved in that respect. Not that I believe in evolution, but I can’t digress twice in one blog. It’s against the blogdom rules. ANYWAY. She is incredibly talented and blessed in her work. And those of us who attended the session were blessed in many ways.
Then nephew C had a baseball game and we celebrated his 14th birthday and his father’s (my brother) 50th birthday. Had a fun time of family and laughter and picture taking, which if I could figure out how to attach photos, you might could see them, but then I do like to protect the privacy of the young ones.
Yesterday was church and went home with the intention of changing clothes and working in the yard, and read the paper and fell asleep instead. For about 3 hours. It was wonderful. Woke up groggy and didn’t want to do anything, so went to my favorite drink place and came home with a medium coke and vegged out in front of the tv watching Pretty Woman. Once again a rom-com with a fairy tale ending. Where are those rose colored glasses of mine?
So that was my week-end. It was fun, it was tiring and I’ve got to find the strength to walk most every night this week and I am enduring, um, participating in my first 5k run, um walk, this weekend. Then going to bowl in the Goat Bowl, which is to raise money for Bread for A Hungry World. If you would like to participate as a sponsor, we are raising money to provide families in third world countries chickens, goats or calves to help them pull themselves out of poverty. You can go to www.givebread.org. Click on Give Now, and my team is Honduras. You can give a flock of chickens for as little as $20. If you are so inclined we would appreciate it.
Well, that’s it for now. Hope I made you smile, as I’m sure I didn’t impart much wisdom, but maybe next time.
Shalom!
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
So to say that I bounded out of bed this morning, okay, so I never bound out of bed. I would do good to have a system of ropes and pulleys above my bed to lift me to a sitting position, then shove me into a standing position until I am fully vertical. As it is I kind of roll myself out of bed and face the morning through squinted eyes. As you may guess, I am NOT a morning person. But once again, I digress, even though I’m not exactly sure what this blog is about.
First it was Friday with K. Got to spend the afternoon with my great nephew and some of the afternoon with my oldest nephew. They are both amazing in their own right. K is crawling, so had to spend time in baby jail as he goes after the dog like a heat seeking missile. I did let him down and Romeo looked at me with glazed over eyes and jumped up on the couch. K does have a temper and it’s evident when you stop playing the I-dropped-it-on-the-floor-you-say-ah-oh-and-pick-it-up-and-hand-it-back-to-me-so-I-can-drop-it-on-the-floor-again game. I explained he got three times and then it was gone. When it was gone, he was not a happy camper. Trying to get him to sleep I sang Barney’s theme song until I thought I would morph into Baby Bop, then to keep sane I sang this old man he played two, he played knick knack on my shoe (which if you hum it is the same tune) then I went into Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which lead into Jesus Loves Me, You Are My Sunshine, Zipadedodah which segues nicely into a Spoonful of Sugar, then ended on Feed the Birds. I started singing My Grandfather’s Clock, tick tock tick tock, but it ends with the guy dying, so decided that wasn’t a wholesome naptime song.
I did learn the words to If all of the Raindrops song, so I don’t have to make them up anymore, which pleases everyone. Hey as long as they rhyme, I’m good to go. But that’s not a naptime song, that’s a eating song. So he finally laid down and slept a good solid hour. Then it was up for more fun and fussiness, but I guess it’s boring being in baby jail with all the toys you own piled in on top of you. He wants to be free to roam the far reaches of the dining room and chase the dog.
Saturday I spent in a simulcast with Beth Moore. I would move to Houston if I could go to work for that woman. If anybody has an “in” with her, I’m a dynamite administrative assistant. She is amazing. Her subject was Insecurity, and I firmly believe, after sitting through the simulcast and reading her book, So Long Insecurity, that 98% of the women in America could benefit by her teachings on this subject. There are 2% of women that I think are secure enough that they probably would waste their time reading it. She is so in tune to women and what we need. It’s so different from ages past when men would stand up and proclaim to an all woman audience what their problems were and how to fix them. I’m so glad we’ve evolved in that respect. Not that I believe in evolution, but I can’t digress twice in one blog. It’s against the blogdom rules. ANYWAY. She is incredibly talented and blessed in her work. And those of us who attended the session were blessed in many ways.
Then nephew C had a baseball game and we celebrated his 14th birthday and his father’s (my brother) 50th birthday. Had a fun time of family and laughter and picture taking, which if I could figure out how to attach photos, you might could see them, but then I do like to protect the privacy of the young ones.
Yesterday was church and went home with the intention of changing clothes and working in the yard, and read the paper and fell asleep instead. For about 3 hours. It was wonderful. Woke up groggy and didn’t want to do anything, so went to my favorite drink place and came home with a medium coke and vegged out in front of the tv watching Pretty Woman. Once again a rom-com with a fairy tale ending. Where are those rose colored glasses of mine?
So that was my week-end. It was fun, it was tiring and I’ve got to find the strength to walk most every night this week and I am enduring, um, participating in my first 5k run, um walk, this weekend. Then going to bowl in the Goat Bowl, which is to raise money for Bread for A Hungry World. If you would like to participate as a sponsor, we are raising money to provide families in third world countries chickens, goats or calves to help them pull themselves out of poverty. You can go to www.givebread.org. Click on Give Now, and my team is Honduras. You can give a flock of chickens for as little as $20. If you are so inclined we would appreciate it.
Well, that’s it for now. Hope I made you smile, as I’m sure I didn’t impart much wisdom, but maybe next time.
Shalom!
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Friday, April 16, 2010
Play Ball!
Spring is in the air and a young man’s fancy turns to baseball! Major league, minor league and everything in between ball. As parents of a little leaguer, you know the thrill you get when your child hits the ball, whether it’s a home run, a pop fly, a line drive, or a foul ball. Every at bat you pray that they’ll just get a piece of it. You run right along with them as they cover the bases, and when they get put out, you feel their pain and celebrate when they make a homer.
For the last several years, parents of special needs children have been able to experience the same thrills. Miracle League came to Randol Mill Park in Arlington, Texas. When I first learned my nephew was going to be playing, I wondered how could some of these children participate who are profoundly impacted by their physical and mental abilities?
I didn’t need to worry. How do those children react? The same way other children react. They are happy when they hit the ball, when their teammate hits the ball and when the other team hits the ball. They congratulate the runners on base, even if they play for the other team. One player on my nephew’s team, every time she hits the ball, it’s going to be a home run because she wants it to be. She passes up her other team members to run all the way home. And that’s okay. The games always end in a tie, but the reality is everybody wins.
Miracle League is open to any special needs child. One of my nephew’s teammates was legally blind, several have been in wheelchairs and a couple used walkers. The field is rubberized, so if they fall they won’t get hurt. Every player has a buddy to run the bases with, and they can hit the ball the coach pitches or hit off a tee. All the players hit, run and score. One player ran all the way around the bases, then ran around them again. He was headed for a third round, when the coach grabbed him and put him in the dugout. They do play by their own set of rules and the first one is Everybody has a great time!
I don’t know much about how Miracle League came to be, I believe it started in Florida, but the purpose of this is not a history lesson, but a His Story lesson.
My nephew loves Miracle League. He has been on Coach Jerry’s team for the last 7 or 8 years. He has friends on the team that have remained the same, while others have rotated out. He has friends from school that play on other teams, and he encourages them just as much as they encourage him. He has trophies from each season which he will proudly show you along with his pictures in his baseball uniform. He gets to bat twice a game, and has turned into a real slugger! Hasn’t quite hit one over the fence yet, but he’s been close.
I get a lump in my throat as I watch these children play baseball who have never had the opportunity before. How their eyes light up as they head for home amid the cheers of the crowd. Hugs are freely given as are smiles. Oh, the smiles. Every face involved has a smile, the children, the parents, the buddies, and the aunts and uncles. Is it little league baseball? No, but I think that the little and major leagues could learn a lot by watching these games. These kids have overcome great obstacles in some cases to play, and they are grateful for the opportunity. These children play ball for the sheer enjoyment of doing something “normal’ for an hour or so. There are no egos on any of these teams, just warm fuzzy moments of pure joy.
If you want to see a miracle in action, get to Randol Mill Park in Arlington any Saturday during the month of May (Except May 1, that’s Special Olympics Day) and spend a couple of hours watching these children. It truly is an amazing sight, one you will not soon forget. And if you smile just right, you might get a hug.
Hugs,
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth Texas. For information please contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
For the last several years, parents of special needs children have been able to experience the same thrills. Miracle League came to Randol Mill Park in Arlington, Texas. When I first learned my nephew was going to be playing, I wondered how could some of these children participate who are profoundly impacted by their physical and mental abilities?
I didn’t need to worry. How do those children react? The same way other children react. They are happy when they hit the ball, when their teammate hits the ball and when the other team hits the ball. They congratulate the runners on base, even if they play for the other team. One player on my nephew’s team, every time she hits the ball, it’s going to be a home run because she wants it to be. She passes up her other team members to run all the way home. And that’s okay. The games always end in a tie, but the reality is everybody wins.
Miracle League is open to any special needs child. One of my nephew’s teammates was legally blind, several have been in wheelchairs and a couple used walkers. The field is rubberized, so if they fall they won’t get hurt. Every player has a buddy to run the bases with, and they can hit the ball the coach pitches or hit off a tee. All the players hit, run and score. One player ran all the way around the bases, then ran around them again. He was headed for a third round, when the coach grabbed him and put him in the dugout. They do play by their own set of rules and the first one is Everybody has a great time!
I don’t know much about how Miracle League came to be, I believe it started in Florida, but the purpose of this is not a history lesson, but a His Story lesson.
My nephew loves Miracle League. He has been on Coach Jerry’s team for the last 7 or 8 years. He has friends on the team that have remained the same, while others have rotated out. He has friends from school that play on other teams, and he encourages them just as much as they encourage him. He has trophies from each season which he will proudly show you along with his pictures in his baseball uniform. He gets to bat twice a game, and has turned into a real slugger! Hasn’t quite hit one over the fence yet, but he’s been close.
I get a lump in my throat as I watch these children play baseball who have never had the opportunity before. How their eyes light up as they head for home amid the cheers of the crowd. Hugs are freely given as are smiles. Oh, the smiles. Every face involved has a smile, the children, the parents, the buddies, and the aunts and uncles. Is it little league baseball? No, but I think that the little and major leagues could learn a lot by watching these games. These kids have overcome great obstacles in some cases to play, and they are grateful for the opportunity. These children play ball for the sheer enjoyment of doing something “normal’ for an hour or so. There are no egos on any of these teams, just warm fuzzy moments of pure joy.
If you want to see a miracle in action, get to Randol Mill Park in Arlington any Saturday during the month of May (Except May 1, that’s Special Olympics Day) and spend a couple of hours watching these children. It truly is an amazing sight, one you will not soon forget. And if you smile just right, you might get a hug.
Hugs,
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth Texas. For information please contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Monday, March 8, 2010
The Mother of All Marthas
Hi, my name is Stevie and I’m a recovering Martha. You know, the lady in the Bible that wanted Jesus to yell at her sister because she wouldn’t help her serve the meal? The one who was so intent on what NEEDED to be done that she didn’t hear the Savior speaking to her, so he had to call her at least twice? The Bible just says, Martha, Martha, but I think it was more like Martha. MARTHA! She was so busy picking up and cooking and serving that she completely ignored the Savior of the world in her house.
If you have ever said “if I don’t do it, it won’t get done” or “I’m the only one who knows how”, or “if I don’t show up they’ll be disappointed”, trying to “fix” everything or the biggie “trying to be all things to all people”, then you are a card carrying, miniscule chore doing Martha and you need to put the broom down, or set the timer on the oven, or put dinner in the crock pot, or plug in a DVD for the kids to watch, so you can just sit down.
I am the Martha of Marthas. I come from a long line of Marthas, and I learned the traits well at the feet of the Mother of all Marthas! (Who by the way denies vehemently that she is, in fact, a Martha, but I know better.) I have heard her utter the fateful “if I don’t do it, it won’t get done” and I said AND. “None of the other wives will, so I have to” AND. My mother now hates that word, AND. In her defense, she is a consummate preacher’s wife. If I had to be a preacher’s wife, I would want her to write the book on how it’s done. I will give her credit, she has learned to say the dreaded “N” word, you know, NO, from time to time.
I was doing well at not being a Martha. I was saying no, and taking care of myself, but then last year happened, and I seemed to go from one crisis to another and my inner Martha started growing and taking hold until here I am, a year later, and I’m exhausted from all the effort. And what have I accomplished? Nothing that can be measured. I’ve spent time with my family and I don’t begrudge any Martha-time they need. The other crises have been handled, but the Martha snowball is rolling, so lately I’ve had to take a big stick and beat Martha back into submission.
I’ve had to start practicing the AND theory on myself, you know. If I don’t do it, it won’t get done, AND what will happen? Will the house fall down, will I lose my job? No. If I don’t show up they’ll be disappointed, AND will they never get over the disappointment? I think not. I will be forgiven and can go the next time. They won’t like me if I’m not all things to all people. AND I got news for me, some people don’t like me anyway. AND theory is sometimes a bitter pill to swallow, but sometimes being a Martha is a pill as well.
I’m not talking about being considerate, like if I go to someone’s house and wash the dishes, that’s being considerate. Being a Martha is washing the dishes, drying them, putting them away, sweeping the floor, cleaning the sink and washing the dog. Martha is considerate on steroids. And let’s face it, she’s high maintenance. She brings along her friends: guilt, exhaustion, and occasionally maybe a little depression.
And the worst part is, she doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get that she has the Savior of the world IN HER HOUSE and she’s too busy to listen to him, or to play that game of hide and seek or take the dog for a walk or just be still and know that God is God. Martha for all her good traits is a time thief. Time away from prayer, Bible Reading, and fellowship with other Christians because she had to do just one more thing.
There is another type of Martha as well, the one that is so plugged into a church that she has no family time. The one who is there every time the doors open, for Bible Study, small group, woman’s ministry, ladies’ Bible Class, ad infinitem. Someone who cooks food for and attends every funeral, who tries to visit all the sick and the shut ins every week. Who volunteers at the children’s school, because they “need” help.
While most Marthas aspire to be a Mary, enthralled at Jesus’ feet, the truth is there needs to be a balance, a Mary Martha, if you will, someone who knows when it’s time to listen and when it’s time for chores. When it’s time to play and when it’s time to study. Yes, I think I shall become a Mary Martha, or MM for short.
Hi, I’m Stevie and I’m now an MM, at least as soon as I get all these e-mails answered, and the files organized and the dog washed. Oh, well. Baby steps.
Till next time.
Stevie, MM
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
If you have ever said “if I don’t do it, it won’t get done” or “I’m the only one who knows how”, or “if I don’t show up they’ll be disappointed”, trying to “fix” everything or the biggie “trying to be all things to all people”, then you are a card carrying, miniscule chore doing Martha and you need to put the broom down, or set the timer on the oven, or put dinner in the crock pot, or plug in a DVD for the kids to watch, so you can just sit down.
I am the Martha of Marthas. I come from a long line of Marthas, and I learned the traits well at the feet of the Mother of all Marthas! (Who by the way denies vehemently that she is, in fact, a Martha, but I know better.) I have heard her utter the fateful “if I don’t do it, it won’t get done” and I said AND. “None of the other wives will, so I have to” AND. My mother now hates that word, AND. In her defense, she is a consummate preacher’s wife. If I had to be a preacher’s wife, I would want her to write the book on how it’s done. I will give her credit, she has learned to say the dreaded “N” word, you know, NO, from time to time.
I was doing well at not being a Martha. I was saying no, and taking care of myself, but then last year happened, and I seemed to go from one crisis to another and my inner Martha started growing and taking hold until here I am, a year later, and I’m exhausted from all the effort. And what have I accomplished? Nothing that can be measured. I’ve spent time with my family and I don’t begrudge any Martha-time they need. The other crises have been handled, but the Martha snowball is rolling, so lately I’ve had to take a big stick and beat Martha back into submission.
I’ve had to start practicing the AND theory on myself, you know. If I don’t do it, it won’t get done, AND what will happen? Will the house fall down, will I lose my job? No. If I don’t show up they’ll be disappointed, AND will they never get over the disappointment? I think not. I will be forgiven and can go the next time. They won’t like me if I’m not all things to all people. AND I got news for me, some people don’t like me anyway. AND theory is sometimes a bitter pill to swallow, but sometimes being a Martha is a pill as well.
I’m not talking about being considerate, like if I go to someone’s house and wash the dishes, that’s being considerate. Being a Martha is washing the dishes, drying them, putting them away, sweeping the floor, cleaning the sink and washing the dog. Martha is considerate on steroids. And let’s face it, she’s high maintenance. She brings along her friends: guilt, exhaustion, and occasionally maybe a little depression.
And the worst part is, she doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get that she has the Savior of the world IN HER HOUSE and she’s too busy to listen to him, or to play that game of hide and seek or take the dog for a walk or just be still and know that God is God. Martha for all her good traits is a time thief. Time away from prayer, Bible Reading, and fellowship with other Christians because she had to do just one more thing.
There is another type of Martha as well, the one that is so plugged into a church that she has no family time. The one who is there every time the doors open, for Bible Study, small group, woman’s ministry, ladies’ Bible Class, ad infinitem. Someone who cooks food for and attends every funeral, who tries to visit all the sick and the shut ins every week. Who volunteers at the children’s school, because they “need” help.
While most Marthas aspire to be a Mary, enthralled at Jesus’ feet, the truth is there needs to be a balance, a Mary Martha, if you will, someone who knows when it’s time to listen and when it’s time for chores. When it’s time to play and when it’s time to study. Yes, I think I shall become a Mary Martha, or MM for short.
Hi, I’m Stevie and I’m now an MM, at least as soon as I get all these e-mails answered, and the files organized and the dog washed. Oh, well. Baby steps.
Till next time.
Stevie, MM
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Early Voting
I early voted today, so the primary is over for me. All the annoying name calling, dirt slinging, ugly ads can stop now. I hate them.
I’ve driven the Texas highways for years and I have yet to stumble upon one of the million dollar rest stops which all his cronies apparently went to work for him to build so they have somewhere to meet secretly while they plan the Trans Texas Railroad or whatever it is.
The other candidate has apparently thrown out all loyalty to Texas in the wake of the current President’s election and has supported everything he spouts out. Personally I don’t think she’s doing a good job representing us if she’s not in Washington and she can’t be in Washington because she’s running for governor. I know it’s all legal for her to hold one job while running for another, but is it RIGHT?
Now, lest you think I think I am advocating one candidate over the other, let me just say I didn’t vote for either one. I will not disclose who I did vote for, but the important thing is I VOTED. I had my say.
And now the ads can stop. All of them. The ads have done nothing but confuse the issues and get everyone very dirty. Since I reached voting age, I have not missed many elections. I even stood in line for hours to vote in the horse racing ballot several years ago, only to find out my then husband and I canceled each other out! Boy was he mad!
See lots of wives vote the way their husbands advises them to. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t, and usually didn’t tell him if I was voting the opposite. The standard answer was “why should I go vote if we’re just going to cancel each other out?” The reason is because if we don’t vote, it just might be taken from us some day.
Besides it’s a secret ballot for a reason.
I voted today. It doesn’t mean any less because I didn’t wait for Election Day. I still get excited, and while I may not be the most informed voter, I do make the effort to vote.
Tuesday, March 2, 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. VOTE. Exercise the freedom while you still have it.
Patriotically yours,
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
I’ve driven the Texas highways for years and I have yet to stumble upon one of the million dollar rest stops which all his cronies apparently went to work for him to build so they have somewhere to meet secretly while they plan the Trans Texas Railroad or whatever it is.
The other candidate has apparently thrown out all loyalty to Texas in the wake of the current President’s election and has supported everything he spouts out. Personally I don’t think she’s doing a good job representing us if she’s not in Washington and she can’t be in Washington because she’s running for governor. I know it’s all legal for her to hold one job while running for another, but is it RIGHT?
Now, lest you think I think I am advocating one candidate over the other, let me just say I didn’t vote for either one. I will not disclose who I did vote for, but the important thing is I VOTED. I had my say.
And now the ads can stop. All of them. The ads have done nothing but confuse the issues and get everyone very dirty. Since I reached voting age, I have not missed many elections. I even stood in line for hours to vote in the horse racing ballot several years ago, only to find out my then husband and I canceled each other out! Boy was he mad!
See lots of wives vote the way their husbands advises them to. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t, and usually didn’t tell him if I was voting the opposite. The standard answer was “why should I go vote if we’re just going to cancel each other out?” The reason is because if we don’t vote, it just might be taken from us some day.
Besides it’s a secret ballot for a reason.
I voted today. It doesn’t mean any less because I didn’t wait for Election Day. I still get excited, and while I may not be the most informed voter, I do make the effort to vote.
Tuesday, March 2, 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. VOTE. Exercise the freedom while you still have it.
Patriotically yours,
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Monday, February 15, 2010
Power Outage
A snowstorm blanketed the north central portion of Texas where I live last Thursday with up to 10 inches of snow. That is more snow in one day than we have had in the last 10 years. This is the third snowfall since Thanksgiving. Yet they talk about Global Warming??
Thursday was great, the snow was falling, quietly, steadily all day. Little flakes, then big flakes, some as fine as raindrops. Falling, falling, grinding this part of the world to a halt. Snowtires, chains, sand, salt, these are not in a Texans’ winter vocabulary, so we are never prepared.
I got sent home from work early, and as giddy as a schoolchild freed for the summer, I made large plans for the evening. I went out and built a snowman, complete with baseball cap and sunglasses, then back in the house. There would be no venturing out as the roads were slick, so I was going to hunker down in the warmth with my dog and veg in front of the tv. Maybe indulge in a chicken pot pie, which is NOT Weight Watchers® friendly. WRONG. Got home and flipped on the tv, “searching for satellite signal”, and search it did, and never found one. So I flipped over and watched the shows I had taped, Adam 12, Dragnet, Jag, Big Bang Theory, but it wasn’t the same. I wasn’t connected to the outside world, no running banner of school closings and weather bulletins.
It finally hit me that the snow might be a problem, so I retrieved a ladder from the big little shed and climbed up with a broom to de-snow my satellite dish with a broom. It was partially successful, but not enough, so in desperation I unplugged the converter box from the small tv and attached it to the living room tv. At least I got to watch The Mentalist, and the school closings and the weather bulletins. Not quite the evening I planned, but I did read a novel I had started, so all was good. And still it snowed. Quietly, steadily coming down. Something I didn’t realize, Snow is HEAVY! Carports buckled, trees cracked and power lines snapped.
Got in bed and slept soundly until the alarm went off. Tried to turn on the radio to hear how bad it was and nothing. No whirring, no humming, no clicking, no warmth. At some point the power had gone out. I stayed under the covers until I realized I needed to get up and get dressed or it would be too cold. So I pulled on a thermal shirt, a long sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt and a hat, then a pair of long underwear, knee socks, sweat pants, fuzzy slipper socks and slipper boots.
I sat down to survey my options and there weren’t many. No power meant no cooking, meant anything I ate would be cold and I was cold already. I settled into my chair with three blankets and my dog and read, then took a short nap, then read some more. By then I had gloves on my hands and my dog around my neck. Ran to the store and got a hot sandwich while I was out to stave off starvation.
Finally decided it would be better to leave than freeze, so went to the show and saw The Tooth Fairy. It was cute. I got warmed up and left the theater convinced that the power would be on when I got home. Eternal optimist that I am, it wasn’t. Sat and read some more, shoveled a little snow, read till I finished the book. Prayed. Decided we would go to my parents’ home where there was heat and warmth and food, so ran around packing up clothes for myself and treats, food and toys for three dogs. By the time my housemate pulled in the driveway, I was sitting on the ottoman rocking back and forth, trying to keep it all together in the absolute stillness that surrounded me, that had surrounded me all day. At that point there wasn’t much difference in temperature in the outside and the inside of the house, and dark was coming.
She grabbed a couple of things and off we went to spend the week-end “in the country.”
I thank God that there are people who know how to fix electricity. I thank God for the people that drove to work on Friday morning so I could get a warm sandwich and sit in a warm theater. It pointed out to me how dependant I am on electricity, not just for heat and food, but my internet didn’t work, and my cell phone started going down fast. I felt like I was alone, deserted in the cold stillness that was my house with no contact to the outside world.
It got me to wondering is that how people who are separated from God feel? Knowing help, and warmth and love are so close, if they will but make the decision to reach for it? Yes, we could have toughed it out at the house, it would have been a long, cold night, and we would have suffered needlessly, when warmth, love and food were so close.
It did make me realize that all those lovely thoughts I ever had about living in Colorado were bogus, as about two weeks of non-stop snow/slush/snow would drive me back down to Texas. While I admire the snow from afar, and on occasional visits, sloshing through it with any sort of regularity is a completely different reality.
I think my power goes out every once in a while to remind me that I don’t want to suffer a POWER failure. Thank you God, for keeping me plugged in to you.
I’m sure it’s all Punsutawaney Phil’s fault, seeing his stupid shadow!
Stay warm.
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Thursday was great, the snow was falling, quietly, steadily all day. Little flakes, then big flakes, some as fine as raindrops. Falling, falling, grinding this part of the world to a halt. Snowtires, chains, sand, salt, these are not in a Texans’ winter vocabulary, so we are never prepared.
I got sent home from work early, and as giddy as a schoolchild freed for the summer, I made large plans for the evening. I went out and built a snowman, complete with baseball cap and sunglasses, then back in the house. There would be no venturing out as the roads were slick, so I was going to hunker down in the warmth with my dog and veg in front of the tv. Maybe indulge in a chicken pot pie, which is NOT Weight Watchers® friendly. WRONG. Got home and flipped on the tv, “searching for satellite signal”, and search it did, and never found one. So I flipped over and watched the shows I had taped, Adam 12, Dragnet, Jag, Big Bang Theory, but it wasn’t the same. I wasn’t connected to the outside world, no running banner of school closings and weather bulletins.
It finally hit me that the snow might be a problem, so I retrieved a ladder from the big little shed and climbed up with a broom to de-snow my satellite dish with a broom. It was partially successful, but not enough, so in desperation I unplugged the converter box from the small tv and attached it to the living room tv. At least I got to watch The Mentalist, and the school closings and the weather bulletins. Not quite the evening I planned, but I did read a novel I had started, so all was good. And still it snowed. Quietly, steadily coming down. Something I didn’t realize, Snow is HEAVY! Carports buckled, trees cracked and power lines snapped.
Got in bed and slept soundly until the alarm went off. Tried to turn on the radio to hear how bad it was and nothing. No whirring, no humming, no clicking, no warmth. At some point the power had gone out. I stayed under the covers until I realized I needed to get up and get dressed or it would be too cold. So I pulled on a thermal shirt, a long sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt and a hat, then a pair of long underwear, knee socks, sweat pants, fuzzy slipper socks and slipper boots.
I sat down to survey my options and there weren’t many. No power meant no cooking, meant anything I ate would be cold and I was cold already. I settled into my chair with three blankets and my dog and read, then took a short nap, then read some more. By then I had gloves on my hands and my dog around my neck. Ran to the store and got a hot sandwich while I was out to stave off starvation.
Finally decided it would be better to leave than freeze, so went to the show and saw The Tooth Fairy. It was cute. I got warmed up and left the theater convinced that the power would be on when I got home. Eternal optimist that I am, it wasn’t. Sat and read some more, shoveled a little snow, read till I finished the book. Prayed. Decided we would go to my parents’ home where there was heat and warmth and food, so ran around packing up clothes for myself and treats, food and toys for three dogs. By the time my housemate pulled in the driveway, I was sitting on the ottoman rocking back and forth, trying to keep it all together in the absolute stillness that surrounded me, that had surrounded me all day. At that point there wasn’t much difference in temperature in the outside and the inside of the house, and dark was coming.
She grabbed a couple of things and off we went to spend the week-end “in the country.”
I thank God that there are people who know how to fix electricity. I thank God for the people that drove to work on Friday morning so I could get a warm sandwich and sit in a warm theater. It pointed out to me how dependant I am on electricity, not just for heat and food, but my internet didn’t work, and my cell phone started going down fast. I felt like I was alone, deserted in the cold stillness that was my house with no contact to the outside world.
It got me to wondering is that how people who are separated from God feel? Knowing help, and warmth and love are so close, if they will but make the decision to reach for it? Yes, we could have toughed it out at the house, it would have been a long, cold night, and we would have suffered needlessly, when warmth, love and food were so close.
It did make me realize that all those lovely thoughts I ever had about living in Colorado were bogus, as about two weeks of non-stop snow/slush/snow would drive me back down to Texas. While I admire the snow from afar, and on occasional visits, sloshing through it with any sort of regularity is a completely different reality.
I think my power goes out every once in a while to remind me that I don’t want to suffer a POWER failure. Thank you God, for keeping me plugged in to you.
I’m sure it’s all Punsutawaney Phil’s fault, seeing his stupid shadow!
Stay warm.
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Valentine's Day - Again!
Oh great cupid day is fast approaching, when young mens’ fancy turns to cards and flowers and young girls’ fancy turns to gold and diamonds. The stores are decked out in pink, white and red hearts and everything edible is chocolate covered. I like chocolate, but do NOT want to be tempted, so give me a heart shaped Peeps® and I’ll be fine. If a little chocolate happens to melt on it . . .
This particular holiday always reminds me that I am a die hard romantic. I still believe the fairy tale that “they will live happily ever after” with hearts and flowers and beautiful music, even though I know better, and have lived through the unhappy ending. With wide-eyed anticipation I wait for the white knight in shining armor to show up at my house laden with diamond studded heart shaped baubles all for me. He has dozens of my favorite flowers (daffodils and tulips) in his hand and he showers me with kisses and hugs and love. Stars and rainbows hang above our heads as we stare into each other's eyes and sigh happily. About here is where I usually wake up, wipe the smudges from my rose colored glasses and get back to life, which is nothing like a Hallmark movie.
Therein lies the problem. I like romantic comedy movies, the kind that boy loves girl, boy acts stupid and loses girl, girl forgives him and they live happily every after, or some variation on that theme. Everything is all nice and neatly wrapped up in a two hour package of struggle, conflict and resolution. One of my favorites, Sleepless In Seattle has one of the best lines. Annie (Meg Ryan) and Becky (Rosie O’Donnell) are watching An Affair to Remember and Annie is bemoaning the fact that people don’t fall in love like the characters in the movie anymore. And Becky looks at her and says “You don’t want to be in love, you want to be in love like in a movie.” Movie love is not real love. It’s not messy and even when hearts get broken; they pick up the pieces and go on. No fuss, no muss.
Now that tv and radio ads are all Valentines all the time, let me, as this love filled day approaches, make a couple of suggestions. If you are romantically unattached as I am, and feel the need to heart somebody, I’m sure you have friends, so treat the single ones to a little treat: A cute card, a flower, even just an e-mail. I might especially say treat those who are newly single or single moms. And second, treat yourself. Enjoy a piece of Godiva® chocolate or buy some flowers and put them on your desk. Let people wonder, that’s half the fun.
For us hopeless romantics this is a day that holds a lot of promise. Anything could happen. The possibilities are endless. Mr. White Knight could show up and sweep me off into a whirlwind romance that ends in a wedding on a beach in Hawaii and we really could live happily ever after, on Maui. Oh, excuse me, my rose colored glasses are smudged again.
In any case, Happy Valentine’s Day. Enjoy it, revel in it or hide in your closet till it’s over. It’s only 24 hours then another day will start. Wait, are those hoofbeats I hear? For me?
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX for information faithleap@sbcglobal.net
This particular holiday always reminds me that I am a die hard romantic. I still believe the fairy tale that “they will live happily ever after” with hearts and flowers and beautiful music, even though I know better, and have lived through the unhappy ending. With wide-eyed anticipation I wait for the white knight in shining armor to show up at my house laden with diamond studded heart shaped baubles all for me. He has dozens of my favorite flowers (daffodils and tulips) in his hand and he showers me with kisses and hugs and love. Stars and rainbows hang above our heads as we stare into each other's eyes and sigh happily. About here is where I usually wake up, wipe the smudges from my rose colored glasses and get back to life, which is nothing like a Hallmark movie.
Therein lies the problem. I like romantic comedy movies, the kind that boy loves girl, boy acts stupid and loses girl, girl forgives him and they live happily every after, or some variation on that theme. Everything is all nice and neatly wrapped up in a two hour package of struggle, conflict and resolution. One of my favorites, Sleepless In Seattle has one of the best lines. Annie (Meg Ryan) and Becky (Rosie O’Donnell) are watching An Affair to Remember and Annie is bemoaning the fact that people don’t fall in love like the characters in the movie anymore. And Becky looks at her and says “You don’t want to be in love, you want to be in love like in a movie.” Movie love is not real love. It’s not messy and even when hearts get broken; they pick up the pieces and go on. No fuss, no muss.
Now that tv and radio ads are all Valentines all the time, let me, as this love filled day approaches, make a couple of suggestions. If you are romantically unattached as I am, and feel the need to heart somebody, I’m sure you have friends, so treat the single ones to a little treat: A cute card, a flower, even just an e-mail. I might especially say treat those who are newly single or single moms. And second, treat yourself. Enjoy a piece of Godiva® chocolate or buy some flowers and put them on your desk. Let people wonder, that’s half the fun.
For us hopeless romantics this is a day that holds a lot of promise. Anything could happen. The possibilities are endless. Mr. White Knight could show up and sweep me off into a whirlwind romance that ends in a wedding on a beach in Hawaii and we really could live happily ever after, on Maui. Oh, excuse me, my rose colored glasses are smudged again.
In any case, Happy Valentine’s Day. Enjoy it, revel in it or hide in your closet till it’s over. It’s only 24 hours then another day will start. Wait, are those hoofbeats I hear? For me?
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX for information faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Monday, February 1, 2010
Reunion
I went to a reunion the other night. I’d like to say I got all gussied up, but I didn’t. Wore a sweater and jeans, combed my hair, put on lipstick and glued a smile to my face. I have managed to avoid all of my high school reunions because I still keep in contact with the people with whom I hung around, so I figure why bother.
However, this reunion was not high school. It was Central Texas Youth Camp, the church camp I went to in some version for 8 years, both as camper and counselor. As with most gatherings of this nature, I was on the fringes, talking pictures, making small talk. Hi, how are you? Fine, great, good, busy, working, you know the superficial platitudes that come so easy at these things. I watched my Dad working the crowd, and my mom running around in her apron. My brother was the official MC so he kept the slide show running and things on track.
My great nephew made the rounds as everybody wanted to see him. He was among the youngest to attend, and my parents were probably among the oldest. I land somewhere in the middle. Hoping I didn’t look as old as some of the people. Yes, it was great to see them. I sat waiting for my friends to show. There were about 8 of us that were almost inseparable. I knew of two others that were coming. Almost bolted until I looked up and there was one of my BFFs from that time coming in the door. I made a bee line for him and we spent the rest of the evening catching up on stuff. Talking through the starlight devo, like we used to do. In church we would pass notes back and forth till one day his mom came and sat between us. We thought that was hysterical.
Some of the friends couldn’t make it because of distance, from down near Conroe, TX up to the Wisconsin border, and they were missed. Some couldn’t make it because they left this earth way too early. We talked about them, and remembered, which I guess is the main purpose behind a reunion. To remember the good times and bad, the laughter and tears, what we meant to each other and how special those times were. How close we all were, and how far apart we are now.
Makes me think of another reunion. The BIG reunion. The one where I will be ushered into heaven and everyone that’s gone before me will crowd around to say hello. I think of my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my baby brother that I never got to know and friends. I don’t think I’ll be hanging around on the fringes on that day. I don’t think the talk will be superficial, and the tears will be of joy at seeing them again. At some point the crowd will part and my big brother will show up. And we’ll get to spend some time together, just he and I. And we’ll laugh and dance and sing. Yes, dance. I think in heaven even church of Christers will be allowed to dance! What a day that will be. Umm, but not just yet, okay?
Enjoy the day.
Stevie
copyright 2010, Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information faithleap@sbcglobal.net
However, this reunion was not high school. It was Central Texas Youth Camp, the church camp I went to in some version for 8 years, both as camper and counselor. As with most gatherings of this nature, I was on the fringes, talking pictures, making small talk. Hi, how are you? Fine, great, good, busy, working, you know the superficial platitudes that come so easy at these things. I watched my Dad working the crowd, and my mom running around in her apron. My brother was the official MC so he kept the slide show running and things on track.
My great nephew made the rounds as everybody wanted to see him. He was among the youngest to attend, and my parents were probably among the oldest. I land somewhere in the middle. Hoping I didn’t look as old as some of the people. Yes, it was great to see them. I sat waiting for my friends to show. There were about 8 of us that were almost inseparable. I knew of two others that were coming. Almost bolted until I looked up and there was one of my BFFs from that time coming in the door. I made a bee line for him and we spent the rest of the evening catching up on stuff. Talking through the starlight devo, like we used to do. In church we would pass notes back and forth till one day his mom came and sat between us. We thought that was hysterical.
Some of the friends couldn’t make it because of distance, from down near Conroe, TX up to the Wisconsin border, and they were missed. Some couldn’t make it because they left this earth way too early. We talked about them, and remembered, which I guess is the main purpose behind a reunion. To remember the good times and bad, the laughter and tears, what we meant to each other and how special those times were. How close we all were, and how far apart we are now.
Makes me think of another reunion. The BIG reunion. The one where I will be ushered into heaven and everyone that’s gone before me will crowd around to say hello. I think of my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my baby brother that I never got to know and friends. I don’t think I’ll be hanging around on the fringes on that day. I don’t think the talk will be superficial, and the tears will be of joy at seeing them again. At some point the crowd will part and my big brother will show up. And we’ll get to spend some time together, just he and I. And we’ll laugh and dance and sing. Yes, dance. I think in heaven even church of Christers will be allowed to dance! What a day that will be. Umm, but not just yet, okay?
Enjoy the day.
Stevie
copyright 2010, Stevie Stevens, Fort Worth, TX. For information faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Thursday, January 14, 2010
To Jerusalem
Rick Atchley was preaching out of Luke on Sunday, where it records that “We are going up to Jerusalem . . .”; “Now on his way to Jerusalem. . .”
Almost nonchalantly it says he [Jesus] is on his way to Jerusalem. In reality, he’s on his way to fulfill his destiny, to do what he was meant to do, die a terrible, horrible, painful, humiliating death. In fact, those words do not describe the kind of death he was to endure.
All through the sermon, it kept resonating with me that he knew what was going to happen, but he was going anyway. It set me to thinking, which is sometimes not a good thing. “Self, I said, if I knew that my trip was going to end in my death, would I take it? Would I walk out the front door, get in my car and head for Jerusalem, knowing I wouldn’t be coming back? Knowing the pain and suffering I was in for?” Self said “Uh, no. I would get in my car and head the other direction. Or stay in my house and lock all the doors and not go anywhere for days, or weeks or years, till I thought it was safe. But drive towards my known death? No way!”
Maybe I would try to find out why they wanted me to die and negotiate a settlement whereby I get to live. Any number of scenarios ran through my head, none of which ended with me dying. But Jesus headed to Jerusalem.
He and his trusty ragtag band of followers and any other lost souls they could pick up along the way walked to Jerusalem to fulfill his destiny. Forget walking to Jerusalem. He walked out of heaven, came to earth for the express purpose of saving lowly, sinful, undeserving humans. That meant he had to die to do that, so we wouldn’t. And he was willing.
I wonder if those last few miles he was dragging his feet, seeing how long he could take to get there, or if he sped up just wanting to get it over with. Was the dread of what was about to happen to him overshadowed by his love for his father and for us. Did his chest tighten and his stomach churn with every step? Did he want to scream as his disciples engaged in the selfish me first attitude they always seemed to have? Was it on the tip of his tongue to say, “okay surely you’ve got it by now. I’ve been saying the same things to you every day for the last three years?”
On his way he was preaching and teaching, healing and loving on people, the very people who would soon shout crucify him, the very people he came to save. Did anyone see the sorrow in his eyes? No, he cried alone in the garden while his loved ones slept, completely unaware of what was going to transpire.
I’m thinking it was a long, emotional journey to Jerusalem. The urgency of so much left to do and time running out, coupled with the knowledge of what awaited him on that Friday. Thank you Jesus for making that walk.
Peace and Joy,
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens All rights reserved. Contact Faithleap@sbcglobal.net for information
Almost nonchalantly it says he [Jesus] is on his way to Jerusalem. In reality, he’s on his way to fulfill his destiny, to do what he was meant to do, die a terrible, horrible, painful, humiliating death. In fact, those words do not describe the kind of death he was to endure.
All through the sermon, it kept resonating with me that he knew what was going to happen, but he was going anyway. It set me to thinking, which is sometimes not a good thing. “Self, I said, if I knew that my trip was going to end in my death, would I take it? Would I walk out the front door, get in my car and head for Jerusalem, knowing I wouldn’t be coming back? Knowing the pain and suffering I was in for?” Self said “Uh, no. I would get in my car and head the other direction. Or stay in my house and lock all the doors and not go anywhere for days, or weeks or years, till I thought it was safe. But drive towards my known death? No way!”
Maybe I would try to find out why they wanted me to die and negotiate a settlement whereby I get to live. Any number of scenarios ran through my head, none of which ended with me dying. But Jesus headed to Jerusalem.
He and his trusty ragtag band of followers and any other lost souls they could pick up along the way walked to Jerusalem to fulfill his destiny. Forget walking to Jerusalem. He walked out of heaven, came to earth for the express purpose of saving lowly, sinful, undeserving humans. That meant he had to die to do that, so we wouldn’t. And he was willing.
I wonder if those last few miles he was dragging his feet, seeing how long he could take to get there, or if he sped up just wanting to get it over with. Was the dread of what was about to happen to him overshadowed by his love for his father and for us. Did his chest tighten and his stomach churn with every step? Did he want to scream as his disciples engaged in the selfish me first attitude they always seemed to have? Was it on the tip of his tongue to say, “okay surely you’ve got it by now. I’ve been saying the same things to you every day for the last three years?”
On his way he was preaching and teaching, healing and loving on people, the very people who would soon shout crucify him, the very people he came to save. Did anyone see the sorrow in his eyes? No, he cried alone in the garden while his loved ones slept, completely unaware of what was going to transpire.
I’m thinking it was a long, emotional journey to Jerusalem. The urgency of so much left to do and time running out, coupled with the knowledge of what awaited him on that Friday. Thank you Jesus for making that walk.
Peace and Joy,
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens All rights reserved. Contact Faithleap@sbcglobal.net for information
Thursday, January 7, 2010
How Cold is Cold?
It’s cold here. No, that doesn’t describe it. It’s COLD here. Colder than a well digger’s tata. Somebody left the door open to the Arctic and it blew down here to north Texas. Don’t get me wrong, it gets cold here. When it hits the 50’s we bring out jackets. Down into the 40’s we pull out the sweaters. When it hits the 30’s, we have mufflers and gloves and heavy coats on. But this week it is supposed to get down into the teens. We become paralyzed. We don’t have the clothes for low temperatures, so to compensate for that, we put on everything in our closets until we look like a bunch of marshmallows walking around with our arms sticking straight out.
We go to grocery stores and buy all the milk, batteries, firewood and food we can carry because we might be frozen in for an hour or so. Sweaters come out for our pets and we drink hot chocolate by the gallons in front of roaring fires. I do not have a fireplace, so I pull my dog under the blanket with me for added warmth.
Today we’ve got the cold, with a terrible windchill, and then a mix of rain, sleet or snow fell last night. These are the days transplanted Northerners wait for. They love to sit back and watch us try to drive on the slick. There’s dumb ole bubba over there in his dually pickup screaming down the highway at 50 until he hits an ice patch. Oops, makes contact with the guardrail and ties up traffic for an hour. Then you got Grandma Gertie who’s scared to go over 5, hits an ice patch and stops cold. The five cars behind her slide into each other and they tie up traffic for an hour and a half. The rest of us just try to navigate the freeways without running into either one of them and the northerners just wish we’d all stay home so they could get where they are going with no trouble.
The schoolchildren all listened eagerly to the radio this morning to see if they get a complete snow day (yeah) or just a delayed opening (boo). Who doesn’t like an unexpected day off? Not so with the company I work for. Oh, I don’t have to come, but I have to burn PTO, which I don’t have, so here I sit. People are gradually starting to arrive.
My dad tells a story of several years ago, he and my mom were coming home from the Lectureship at ACU. It was a freak ice storm that was moving east to west and everyone east of Abilene was trying to get home. Conditions were pretty scary and he and my mom and anther couple were making the best time they could. They came to Ranger Hill which by Texas standards is a pretty steep grade and cars had slid off on both sides of the road. Blocking their lane of traffic was a car stopped dead. My dad got out of the car and ran up to see if he could help and found a woman, gripping the steering wheel frozen with fear. If I remember right, she may have a child or two with her, but was definitely not going anywhere on her own. Nothing was wrong with the car, so my dad had her scoot over and took her wheel, while someone else drove my mom down the hill. Once they hit the bottom, she was fine, but needed an extra hand. How many of us would let some strange man get in the car with us these days? I know I wouldn’t.
Sometimes cold weather brings out the good Samaritans in us, but most of the time it brings out the idiots.
All I can say is take care, stay warm and drive smartly because there are those who won’t.
Peace and joy,
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, All Rights Reserved. For information please contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
We go to grocery stores and buy all the milk, batteries, firewood and food we can carry because we might be frozen in for an hour or so. Sweaters come out for our pets and we drink hot chocolate by the gallons in front of roaring fires. I do not have a fireplace, so I pull my dog under the blanket with me for added warmth.
Today we’ve got the cold, with a terrible windchill, and then a mix of rain, sleet or snow fell last night. These are the days transplanted Northerners wait for. They love to sit back and watch us try to drive on the slick. There’s dumb ole bubba over there in his dually pickup screaming down the highway at 50 until he hits an ice patch. Oops, makes contact with the guardrail and ties up traffic for an hour. Then you got Grandma Gertie who’s scared to go over 5, hits an ice patch and stops cold. The five cars behind her slide into each other and they tie up traffic for an hour and a half. The rest of us just try to navigate the freeways without running into either one of them and the northerners just wish we’d all stay home so they could get where they are going with no trouble.
The schoolchildren all listened eagerly to the radio this morning to see if they get a complete snow day (yeah) or just a delayed opening (boo). Who doesn’t like an unexpected day off? Not so with the company I work for. Oh, I don’t have to come, but I have to burn PTO, which I don’t have, so here I sit. People are gradually starting to arrive.
My dad tells a story of several years ago, he and my mom were coming home from the Lectureship at ACU. It was a freak ice storm that was moving east to west and everyone east of Abilene was trying to get home. Conditions were pretty scary and he and my mom and anther couple were making the best time they could. They came to Ranger Hill which by Texas standards is a pretty steep grade and cars had slid off on both sides of the road. Blocking their lane of traffic was a car stopped dead. My dad got out of the car and ran up to see if he could help and found a woman, gripping the steering wheel frozen with fear. If I remember right, she may have a child or two with her, but was definitely not going anywhere on her own. Nothing was wrong with the car, so my dad had her scoot over and took her wheel, while someone else drove my mom down the hill. Once they hit the bottom, she was fine, but needed an extra hand. How many of us would let some strange man get in the car with us these days? I know I wouldn’t.
Sometimes cold weather brings out the good Samaritans in us, but most of the time it brings out the idiots.
All I can say is take care, stay warm and drive smartly because there are those who won’t.
Peace and joy,
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens, All Rights Reserved. For information please contact faithleap@sbcglobal.net
Monday, January 4, 2010
New Year
It’s the third day of a new year. Before I go any further let me just say that I have ALWAYS hated New Year’s. Never really got what all the fuss was about. Okay, changing from 1999 to 2000 was a big deal, but the rest of it? Beyond me. I start liking the new year around April. It’s comfortable, I kind of know what to expect, it feels familiar. This year, while I still don’t like New Year’s, I was glad to see 2009 go. It contained some trials for my family, some never to be repeated joys, and some heartbreaking sorrows. One faced a life-threatening illness, but praise God it was caught it in time. I lost a wonderful friend who shared his love of singing with me. Thank you, Glyn.
Like most others, I weathered the recession/downturn/slight depression/whatever you want to call it in fairly decent shape. I got to visit the city of my dreams, London, and got a brand new great nephew. Love you, K! My youngest nephew turned 13, Love YOU C! My niece endured trials I hoped no one my family would ever had to endure, and is stronger as she continues her journey. She also got the job of Mother and is doing great! I love you, H! My oldest nephew spent most of the year employed, except for a short worker’s comp exile and other short economic exiles. You’re the best and I love you, J! My brother and sister-in-law have been rocks with everything that has been thrown at them this year. Love you guys, as well.
2009 was another year with my mom and dad who celebrated 57 years together. I marvel at their relationship. They have been together since they were 18 years old. When they married, Mom had just turned 19 and Dad was still 18, so his mom had to sign for him. They have weathered many storms, some devastating, and many hilltop experiences, like my birth for example. (It's my blog. When my brother gets his blog, he can be the hilltop experience.) Here, 57 years later, they are a shining example to their family and friends. They are both still going strong at 76 and 75. I love you both dearly, Mom and Dad.
So as I stand here, my toes barely wet by this new year, I pause to contemplate what unseen and glorious things may come to pass; what trials and triumphs await me as I journey forth. I know that I don’t have to walk it alone. I have the guidance of my loving and gracious God to travel with me and to carry me when the times get tough.
Bring it on 2010, I’m ready.
Shalom and Happy New Year.
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens. All rights reserved. Contact: faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
Like most others, I weathered the recession/downturn/slight depression/whatever you want to call it in fairly decent shape. I got to visit the city of my dreams, London, and got a brand new great nephew. Love you, K! My youngest nephew turned 13, Love YOU C! My niece endured trials I hoped no one my family would ever had to endure, and is stronger as she continues her journey. She also got the job of Mother and is doing great! I love you, H! My oldest nephew spent most of the year employed, except for a short worker’s comp exile and other short economic exiles. You’re the best and I love you, J! My brother and sister-in-law have been rocks with everything that has been thrown at them this year. Love you guys, as well.
2009 was another year with my mom and dad who celebrated 57 years together. I marvel at their relationship. They have been together since they were 18 years old. When they married, Mom had just turned 19 and Dad was still 18, so his mom had to sign for him. They have weathered many storms, some devastating, and many hilltop experiences, like my birth for example. (It's my blog. When my brother gets his blog, he can be the hilltop experience.) Here, 57 years later, they are a shining example to their family and friends. They are both still going strong at 76 and 75. I love you both dearly, Mom and Dad.
So as I stand here, my toes barely wet by this new year, I pause to contemplate what unseen and glorious things may come to pass; what trials and triumphs await me as I journey forth. I know that I don’t have to walk it alone. I have the guidance of my loving and gracious God to travel with me and to carry me when the times get tough.
Bring it on 2010, I’m ready.
Shalom and Happy New Year.
Stevie
Copyright 2010 Stevie Stevens. All rights reserved. Contact: faithleap@sbcglobal.net.
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