tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65528973265164375342024-03-05T02:43:06.503-08:00Things My Mother Told MeStrange and odd ramblings of a lady who has lived a long time. I'm trying to do better. See what you think and let me know how I can improve it.
I have another blog that is rather more strange than this one. See what you think--http://doesthebiblerellysaythat.blogspot.com/Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger257125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6552897326516437534.post-8607392782456182232017-07-05T08:31:00.001-07:002017-07-05T08:31:42.546-07:00Getting better<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Getting better is a lie I tell myself. I have sciatica, and I hope everyday that it will resolve and disappear. I can remember a time when I did not wake up or stand to the deep, gripping pain, but that memory is fading. More and more, every planned action is accompanied by the anticipation of the drawing deep in the muscle of my left leg. Sometimes it is attended by the back pain just below my waist, but this pain is a different sensation. It is apart from the sciatic nerve. It is plain old backache. It may be the result of the other pain or the result of the compensation I make to move; either way, I hurt. Some days, the deep ache is constant, while other times, it seems to sit waiting for a movement or a stress to signal its explosion into my awareness.<br />
<br />
The doctor prescribed pain medicine. The pills do reduce the acute ache and give me some relief, but just reducing the pain is not the answer I am seeking. Even with the best result, the pills only block the intensity of the pain. I am always aware that the pain is sitting on the curb waiting for a chance to billow forth in full force.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
I do have confidence this can resolve and completely abate. I have had it before, and it did go away. I can't remember how it happened. I just know that for 25 or 30 years I was free of it. Then, one day, I knew it was back. I didn't need a doctor to confirm it. My body recognized it on first glance. My body </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
wants to be rid of this pain. I have prayed and repented and given thanks. What's next? </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
was not </div>
</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Most of the time, I think of Church as an adult activity. It requires concentration, observance of certain conventions, understanding of rituals, and a great deal of metaphoric interpretation.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">On the other hand, many families attend together with even the youngest members in attendance. One philosophy maintains children should be introduced as infants and should be guided to practice the rituals and observances early and receive adequate instruction to make it understood.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">To gain better attendance from adults, most people believe in the early introduction philosophy. We love to see them all dressed up for Church with their joyous, smiling faces, and their sweet voices. Sometime their is a down side to all the commotion that attends children in Church. Adults may not be interested in the energetic activity especially when they are meditating or praying or concentrating on a difficult Biblical passage or theological concept.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Indeed, many older adults may view the cacophony as disruptive to the service and disrespectful to God and the purpose of the gathering. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Of course I find myself in that group that comes from an older and more restrained practice. I imagine that those who value order and </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">discipline view running children as unacceptable in Church. Most of the conversations I hear, settle the argument in favor of tolerance of the status quo, but they may be losing potential members who aren't so broad minded on the subject.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<h2 style="text-align: left;">
Celebrate the New Year!</h2>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's New Year's Eve and I'm home alone. Does this mean I'm lonely? No, certainly not! It just means I'm able to do as I please. I can write in the blog, or read, catch up on the news, study my Sunday school lesson, or make paper butterflies for Jennifer. Which would you choose?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've been 80 for almost a month now and I'm getting used to it. It's not really so different from 79. I am learning to enjoy sleeping late and I'm also getting used to realizing that it's never going to be 1986 again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't make New Year's Resolutions anymore. I just try to focus on a few things I want to do before we do this again. I'm old, so I've already done most of the things that matter. But in 2017 I would like to write in my blogs with better style and purpose. I would like to feel like I are doing a better job of it this year. I do write a lot of blogs, so it could be very difficult to get to all of them ever week with new and </span><span style="font-size: large;">compelling topics. I may be I'll have to do more research, have some new experiences, and accomplish some new tasks. Check in now and them to see how I'm doing. See you next year!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I really enjoyed my Birthday. O.K. so I'm 80. Now what do I do? I can still write, even if nobody reads it. I can still read, even if it's not the newest thing on the New York Times list. I can still love people, even if they don't live close or come to visit. I do still go to Church, even if sometimes it kinda bland.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Being 80 is a new chance at making my mark on the world. O.K. so It's not a big important mark. But if I haven't made a big mark yet, the time's not up.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I am encouraged by George Valliant. There are still stages in life I have not explored and heights I haven't scaled. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm 80 and all indications are that I might live longer yet. Have a good time and cheer up. It ain't over til it over. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanksgiving is over. Christmas is on the horizon. It's time to send cards, make lists, review recipes and get ready for the Big Day. In my experience Thanksgiving includes the weekend and culminates on Sunday. When my kids were small we celebrated for four days. Sunday was nearly as big a day and Thursday. We cooked, visited, ate and celebrated to the end. We had a lot to be thankful for.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Giving thanks is a good foundation for Christmas. Maybe I should say a good introduction. Laying a groundwork of thanks is appropriate. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We are thankful for the appearance of the Savior. The message of the angels promises rich connection to God and His Son. We are blessed to share in this celebration of his birth. We do need to be careful about the level of our celebration. Drunken foolishness is often viewed as celebration, but when we are dealing with issues and realities created in heavenly places, it behooves us to be more circumspect and critical of common practice. Are the things we see in our society really the behaviors we want to present before God as worthy of the gift and grace He bestowed on us?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I realize Christmas has taken on a life of it's own. It has new traditions and myths not associated with the Lord's birth. Many of them are centered in generosity, mercy, hope, and joy, which doesn't do violence to the Biblical ideal. There is a lot of emphasis on gifts and what and how to buy for friends and family. One big risk to the meaning of Christmas comes from the distraction of gift giving and receiving. How much you spend is not necessarily a good gauge of how important the person is to you or the nature of your relationship. Trying to spend the same amount for all your children is a path to hopeless frustration.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I think I'll probably revisit this subject before the big day. You can address it in your blog, too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last year about this time I remembered that I know how to crochet. It inspired me to Make some hot pads for a few people for Christmas. O.K. here I am at Christmas again, facing the same dilemma: What can I do for those people I would like to give something for Christmas? It would be bad to give the same thing again. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then I visited a friend's home today and saw a whole wall of beautiful, embroidered, framed art that inspired me. I don't think I could finish anything in time for Christmas, but I could make some nice things for next year. First, I want to make some for myself. I don't have much on my walls, and this is what I would like to do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I can imagine things I would like to make that would remind me of people and events that mark rites of passage. I would spend some time creating special settings for them. Sometimes the things I want to dwell on in an art form are poems I love, or dates that are important. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">One thing that troubles me is my lack of expertise in embroidery. It would be a learning experience. Maybe that's good. It would mean I have to master a new skill. It would fill my time and prevent the boredom I find in much of the TV I watch. I think I'll look into it more and see what comes of it.</span></div>
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My Mother died when she was 38 and I was ten, so I didn't get much information from her about old age or the frustrations of it. Now I am forming my own opinions about old age. I still think I'm getting better as I get older. My body is in a state of decline, but my mind and senses are strong. My children aren't so sure. Mostly they just tolerate me.<br />
<br />
Now I am getting better at being alone. I don't feel lonely. Sometimes I hear a sound in the other room and am reminded that there is no one there. I keep the TV volume low so I don't disturb anyone. I'm the only one here, so I must be successful. Sometimes I forget where I am. I often doze when watching TV, then I come to my senses and don't know which way the bedroom is. I recall the house I used to live it and imagine that I am there. It makes for some very exciting journeys to other places.<br />
<br />
The noise in the other room could be one of my children or my husband. Suddenly I know it's a day dream. I really am alone, but I don't feel alone most of the time. I'm not quite sure whether to say it's a dream or an hallucination, or maybe just a memory.<br />
<br />
I try to create patterns and routines to structure my day. There are no constraints on me now to observe other peoples's needs. I get to make a day have more or less hours to suit my mood. I can sleep late or rise early without being a bother to anyone else. I like getting old. There are many advantages and many options I haven't mentioned yet. If you are getting old, claim the joys and make the most of the benefits. It's a blast! </div>
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On Monday morning when I got<br />
life was waiting at the door,<br />
standing there, demanding there<br />
that I come out that day.<br />
But the games of life are hard to play.<br />
It was plain to see the pain would be<br />
too much for me to bear.<br />
And so I thought I'd run away.<br />
Life would follow me,swallow me<br />
I had to find a place to hide.<br />
Just be real still and stay right here, but<br />
then I chanced to see that Life was here with me<br />
inside of me.<br />
I could not get away.<br />
<br /></div>
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I'm old and I'm getting older every day. I don't think I'd actually test as having Alzheimer's Disease, but I'm exhibiting symptoms that approximate the early stages, and I resent it very much. Sometimes I can't think of the right word. I recognize the word as soon as I hear it, but it just didn't come to mind immediately. Then, I have trouble with planning and decision making. I hear that these are primary symptoms of the disease too. Just last week I read that recurring depression is a symptom I had not associated with the disease. I am convinced that severe depression may actually sound like Alzheimer's and feel like it to the victim.<br />
<br />
Depression sometimes presents with forgetfulness and memory loss. Lethargy is also associated with Alzheimer's Disease. Of course all these are also associated with aging. There are several brain syndromes that mimic Alzheimer's Disease. Parkinson's Disease has some similarities to Alzheimer's Disease, but it affects movements, walking, hand-coordination, and sometimes speech, more often. Other conditions like Senility are confused with Alzheimer's and may be as debilitating. The difference may lie in the symptoms and potential remedies.<br />
<br />
Both Parkinson's and Alzheimer's Diseases have support organizations that offer aid to victims and family members and support research into the causes and cures. For more information about <a href="http://www.alzfdn.org/?gclid=CPjtm9ye5MwCFVFsfgodjygFiw" target="_blank">Alzheimer's Disease</a> click this link. To learn more about Parkinson's Disease click link <a href="http://www.pdf.org/en/index" target="_blank">Parkinson's Disease</a> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I got all excited about Direct Response Advertising a couple weeks ago. I've heard about it for years, but I never thought I wanted to write junk mail. Well, I looked into a little more and found out I was right: I don't want to engage in Direct Response Advertising.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">There are several factors involved in this venture that don't appear on the first level of interest. I watched a video or two and read some reports to get a better understanding of it. The claims are wonderful! You can make a six figure income with two or three hours of work one or two days a week. Sounds good doesn't it? If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You can make that kind of money if you have built up a client list of companies that need your services and keep you writing a lot. You will have to learn the tricks of the trade which includes some almost shady promises and guarantees of the product you are pushing. I say <i>almost</i> because none of this is intended to be illegal. It is mostly hype and hope. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Forget the short, easy work week. Think in terms of classes and conferences to strengthen your writing skills and shaping your words to fit a company's product line or service. This is all done by contracts with various companies. You have no job security, insurance, or benefits. The first thing I learned was the Direct Response Marketing is a victim of it's own product. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It has to sell you on the idea that you can do this; then it has to sell you on the idea that watching a video they charge you for will make it easy and quick; then they assure you that companies are lining up at the door to hire you; but first you will have to write some high pressure sales pitch and spend endless hours in research learning business principles and technical terms you never thought you needed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Some people have made a career in this field. But I have looked into it, and I don't think it's for me. Let's be fair. I am presenting this in a very negative light. My warning focuses on the fact that they do one thing and they do to promote their own view. Be warned: It ain't as easy as it sounds!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Writing letters is becoming a lost art. The computer age has replaced letters with e-mail, just as informative, but less personal, and texting has lost all sense of grammar and spelling. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Writing a letter means you have a tangible item that will find its way to a friend or loved one far away. The letter you send will carry your message of love or hope or condolence to some one you may not have seen in person for a while. I have a collection of letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother beginning in 1888 and ending with their marriage in 1893. It is sentimental and revealing and filled with hints and facts and suspicions most of which I will never prove. But each letter is precious. I like to picture her when she receive</span><span style="font-size: large;">d it and him as he struggled to convey the depth of his feeling. It connects me to them in ways I never could have imagined. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I write a few letters now, but somehow, I don't feel the magic I used to about letters. Maybe the internet has taken the thrill out of it. My E-mail box fills up everyday and I delete most of them without even a second glance. Getting a letter in the mail is still pretty special. Of course sometimes we call, but a letter is different. It required thought and preparation, and I can share it with others. It can last for many years and reveal the special message somebody sent me. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe it is still the best way to receive a message from a loved one who is far away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When is it too late to start over? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have had an inspiration to do something new. Well, it's just new to me. I've read about it for years, and it is writing, but I thought it wasn't the kind of writing I wanted to do. I'm not very successful doing the kind of writing I want to do, at least I'll never make any money at it; this is something I've never tried before, but I have seen the ads. Somebody is doing very well at it. Why not me?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's writing Junk Mail. You know, those promotional letters we all get in the mail box every day. It sounds almost shameful because it really is junk, but the companies that send it to you, seem to find it profitable, and apparently they pay their writers very. I want to join their ranks. It won't cost me anything to try and it may provide me an amusing adventure.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'll let you know how it turns out. Wish me luck!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My mother was a good housekeeper. I did not inherit this trait, but I'm still working on it. I excused myself when I had kids making messes as fast as I cleaned them up, but now I have no one to blame for the mess on my desk but me. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's funny how most of the house can look tidy, but one corner be in total disarray. The worst part is that it looks O. K. to me, until I start looking for something, then I see the pile of papers, the book, the bills, the letters and realize it is truly a mess.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The mess is not trash, it's just disorganized. I need to put things where they belong. I'm really not good at that. As long as I know what it is, I don't register that it's out of place. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I wonder if my brain is as disorganized as my desk? Is this why I can't remember appointments? Is this why bills are overdue? Maybe if I put the physical things in order, the mental tasks will follow suit.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's a trend worth pursuing. At least I'll get the desk cleaned up.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:AlamoMemorial-5478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="English: Memorial (cenotaph) at The Alamo in S..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted zemanta-img-configured" height="233" src="//upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/eb/AlamoMemorial-5478.jpg/350px-AlamoMemorial-5478.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="350" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 350px;">English: Memorial (cenotaph) at The Alamo in San Antonio, Texas, designed by Pompeo Coppini. It was installed between 1936 to 1940. (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:AlamoMemorial-5478.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">The Siege of the Alamo lasted about thirteen days from the arrival of Santa Ana's troops in late February to March 6 when the walls were breached and the final defenders were put down. The women and children who survived were released and carried the story of valor and death to the new generation of Texans.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Texas carries their names proudly in schools, courthouses and public facilities. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I have no ancestors who died there, but they were waiting on the border to cross into their new homeland when the shooting was over. My ancestor William Humphries had been in Texas when he was about 12, but his father died and his mother returned to family in Kentucky and Tennessee. William was really coming home in 1836, but Santa Ana prevented new settlers from entering the territory. He did enter and establish his land grant in Red River County and lived there to the end of his life about 1908. I carry a proud heritage.</span><br />
<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:I-remember-mama-1948_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="I Remember Mama" border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted zemanta-img-configured" height="300" src="//upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/4/49/I-remember-mama-1948_poster.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 200px;">I Remember Mama (Photo credit: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:I-remember-mama-1948_poster.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">My mother did not teach me how to be old, or even get old. She didn't live long enough. She died when she was 38. I had my last child when I was 38. Mama taught me how to be alive and not sacrifice the joy when things were tough. After she began to feel the effects of diseasecancer, she made herself a long robe from a very flowing fabric, I guess it was jersey, and she called it her lounging robe for entertaining friends in the afternoon. It was a soft fuchsia, and I considered it very romantic and sophisticated. Funny I don't remember her wearing it much after she went to the trouble to make it, of course she didn't entertain friends much then either.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I remember her sister Gertrude came to visit and she made her put on makeup and talk about bridge. She thought talking about the illness was depressing everybody. Mama said the makeup was for everybody else, but she did love bridge. She didn't feel well enough to play bridge anymore, so she would deal the cards for four hands and then play them all. I never learned the game much, but I thought it was the most elegant way to waste an afternoon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I played solitaire, and she did too sometimes. It made me feel very grown up to play with her. I still play, on the computer. It's not as much fun as it was when I held the cards in my hand and felt their cool sophistication, but it will waste an afternoon. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I thought my mother was very wise and knowledgeable. I wish I'd listened better or she had lived longer. There are many things I'd still like to ask her about how to be an adult and make things work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">During those days He went out to the mountain to pray and spent all night in prayer to God. (Luke 6:12)<i>The Apologetics Bible</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I take this to mean that Jesus saw the significance of the baptism by John and the announcement that he was the Son of God. His ministry had begun. Maybe like, the reference in Mark to the driven nature of the wilderness experience, this all night prayer vigil was prompted by the Holy Spirit. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He had </span><span style="font-size: large;">some heavy stuff going on. He had begun to preach and heal and great crowds followed him. Then he had a confrontation with scribes and Pharisees</span><span style="font-size: large;"> over a healing he performed on the Sabbath. Somehow that doesn't seem like an event that would prompt the all night vigil.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He had begun to select his disciples, and after this he called them to him and began to teach them in an event that is known as the Sermon in the Plain. Perhaps it was the training of the Disciples he prayed about all night. Perhaps he was looking toward the crucifixion. There are many possibilities. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes the Holy Spirit drives me to prayer. Sometimes I don't have a specific need. The purpose of prayer when there is no danger or urgent need is gratitude, thanks for God's providence and eternal blessing. Maybe Jesus felt that same gratitude. Maybe it was just worship.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lent begins on February 10 this year. That seems early. It is early, but not quite as early as it could be. Easter is the first Sunday after the the first full moon after the vernal Equinox, and Ash Wednesday is 40 days before that. Lent is traditionally a time to reflect on the passion and death of Jesus and his resurrection on Easter Sunday. In the past I have used devotional collections to help focus my attention and prayer life during this season. For two or three years I help create a collection our church members wrote. Sometimes the writers were kids and youth, but other times it was a wider sample of the congregation. This year instead of reading a devotional pamphlet I'm going to write my own. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I think it will be a very demanding task. I'll use the Bible text of Jesus in the Wilderness and strive to answer questions he wrestled with and find sources he found for encouragement and strength. There is the possibility I'll fail in the test. Jesus was triumphant. We'll see what happens when I do it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Martyr actually means "witness." I guess the meaning has become darker with time and circumstance. Now we think of a Martyr as being someone who dies because of his or her belief. Lately I've been reading and writing about people who were martyrs and some did die for or because of their beliefs and their faith. Mostly my focus is not to venerate those who suffer because of their faith or seek praise and fanfare, but to bring my own faith and witness to a higher standard, to challenge myself to be inspired by those who gave the last full measure of devotion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Watchman Nee, Richard Wurmbrand, Corrie ten Boom, and Viktor Frankl did that. They did not set out to draw attacks for publicity. I hear of people, once in a while, who do things like that. Seeking public notoriety is not the way to please God or to witness to His glory. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now I'm reading Foxes book of Martyrs. To complain about the noise from a neighbor's car seems trivial and less than noteworthy on the scale of torture. I'm ashamed of the things I gripe about that cause me irritation, not even discomfort. People who really suffer for their faith in God the Father and Jesus deserve a better rating than the one I sometimes offer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Proclaim God's goodness and Jesus' righteousness even though it may mean you'll be ignored or criticized. It may also mean you'll be blessed by God and extolled as a hero. Like the say goes: Just do it!</span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Richardwurmbrand2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="Richard Wurmbrand" border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted zemanta-img-configured" height="266" src="//upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/a/ae/Richardwurmbrand2.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="164" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 164px;">Richard Wurmbrand (Photo credit: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Richardwurmbrand2.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Richard Wurmbrand was a Romanian of Jewish descent who became a Christian. He was imprisoned on several occasions and his wife was also put in jail and tortured. When he was in solitary confinement, he composed a sermon every day and delivered it at night to maintain his sanity and keep in touch with reality. He did not yield to political pressure or torture and eventually Romanian Christians and others paid a ransom for his release. He finally came to the United States and was convinced to work for freedom for people who were suffering persecution through the Voice of the Martyrs organization. He testified to Congress about the difficulties of those who live with torture and threats to help make the problem a priority. He died on February 17, 2001. </span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Ten_Boom_museum_Haarlem.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="English: Picture of Ten Boom Museum on the Bar..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted zemanta-img-configured" height="525" src="//upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a6/Ten_Boom_museum_Haarlem.JPG/350px-Ten_Boom_museum_Haarlem.JPG" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="350" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 350px;">English: Picture of Ten Boom Museum on the Barteljoristraat in Haarlem, the Netherlands. The house is a watch shop and museum dedicated to the memory of Corrie ten Boom and her family, who harbored war refugees during World War II. (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Ten_Boom_museum_Haarlem.JPG" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Corrie ten Boom was born </span><span style="font-size: large;">in Amsterdam and grew up in Haarlem, the Netherlands the youngest of four children born to Casper and Cornelia ten Boom. I was inspired by the life story of Corrie and her families support of Jews during World War II. Corrie and Betsie suffered the rigors of Ravenbruck Prison Camp where Betsie died. Corrie was released due to a clerical error in December 1944.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">After the war, Corrie continued many charitable activities and spoke in many countries witnessing to the power of God's love and forgiveness. She wrote several books and traveled widely. <u>The Hiding Place </u> told the story of her family and the years of their service to refugees and their subsequent experiences in Ravenbruck Prison. <u>Tramp for the Lord </u> chronicles some of Corrie's experiences as she spoke and traveled to share the truths she learned. It was her wish to "die in the traces." But it was not to be. She died after strokes took her ability to speak and she spent five silent years in her home in California.</span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div class="zemanta-img">
<a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Viktor_Frankl2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="Deutsch: Viktor Frankl" border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted zemanta-img-configured" height="385" src="//upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/fe/Viktor_Frankl2.jpg/350px-Viktor_Frankl2.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="350" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 350px;">Deutsch: Viktor Frankl (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Viktor_Frankl2.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Viktor Frankl, b. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">26 March 1905 – d. 2 September 1997</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">,</span><span style="font-size: large;"> the second child of Gabriel and Elsa Frankl of Vienna, Austria. He told his parents when he was a small child that he would become a doctor. He was a brilliant student and when he was still a medical student between 1928 and 1930, he organized a program to provide counselling to high school students at the time they received their report cards. </span><span style="font-size: large;">No students committed suicide that year. He received some acclaim for the success of the program. Between 1933 and 1937 he completed his residency in neurology and psychiatry at the Steinhof Psychiatric Hospital in Vienna where he was responsible for the Suicide Pavilion and he treated 30,000 women with suicidal tendencies. In 1938 he established a private practice.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In 1941 he was married to Tilly Grosser. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> In 1942 H</span><span style="font-size: large;">e and his family were sent to Theresientsadt G</span><span style="font-size: large;">hettos where he practiced medicine for a while. Later they were all sent to prison camps. Viktor went to Auschwitz</span><span style="font-size: large;"> prison camps where he treated other prisoners for a while. Tilly was killed in Bergen Belsen. His father died before they left Theresienstadt. His mother Elsa and his brother Walter died in Auschwitz. His sister Stella emigrated to Australia from Austria. He was sent to one camp associated with Dachau where he was part of a slave labor group. <span style="font-family: inherit;">In 1945 he was sent to a so-called rest camp called </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T%C3%BCrkheim" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; line-height: 22.4px; text-decoration: none;" title="Türkheim">Türkheim</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.4px;">, affiliated with Dachau. He was liberated there by American soldiers on the 27 of April 1945. Through these events he formulated the framework of Logotherapy in which he learned to find meaning in the horrors he had faced and spent the rest of his life teaching others to do to. He married </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.4px;">Eleonore Katharina Schwindt in 1947 and they had one daughter who became a child psychologist. He wrote several books and lectured and practiced widely until his death in 1997.</span></span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Watchman_Nee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="English: Photo of Watchman Nee 中文: 倪柝聲的照片" border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted zemanta-img-configured" height="320" src="//upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b0/Watchman_Nee.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 230px;">English: Photo of Watchman Nee 中文: 倪柝聲的照片 (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Watchman_Nee.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Watchman Nee
(</span><span style="background: white; color: #252525; line-height: 107%;">November 4, 1903 – May 30, 1972</span>)<span style="line-height: 107%;"> Chinese Christian who became a
leader in the Church in China by beginning the use of homes for meeting. He
started the home meetings in the 1920s when he was only 17. He was the ninth
child of a second generation Christian family in Foochow China. He had been
dedicated to the Lord by his mother before his birth. He was exceptionally intelligent
and excelled in school graduating from Anglican Trinity College but he did not
attend theology school gaining his extensive knowledge by reading widely while
practicing dedicated spiritual exercises. In the early years he divided his
money into three classes: one third he spent on his own needs, one third he
gave to help others and one third he used for the purchase of books. He
accumulated three thousand volumes over his lifetime. He had an unusual ability
to glean facts and retain information from reading. He also exhibited
determination in learning to apply spiritual truths. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">When he was
a teenager he fell in love with Charity Chang,</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">the daughter of an old
family friend. She was not a Christian </span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">at </span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">the time and ridiculed Jesus in Watchman’s
presence. He struggled </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">with it but decided to end their relationship. Ten years
later after </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">she had completed college she attended meeting in Shanghai. She </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">had
become a Christian and during one of his conferences, they </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">were married. He
suffered greatly with chronic illnesses through </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">which she attended him.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">His ministry
began in personal study to understand and practice the</span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"> consecrated life, and
his vision was for home churches to become </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">a </span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">true unity of spirits. He rejected
the denominational boundaries he </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">felt were detrimental to spiritual unity. He </span><span style="line-height: 25.68px;">traveled</span><span style="line-height: 107%;"> to the United </span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">States and England, but his mission was directed toward
China. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">After his marriage Charity nursed and support him during his frequent </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">illnesses. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">He suffered for about ten years with Tuberculosis and </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">later with a
severe stomach disorder and very painful angina </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">pectoris.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In 1942 he
left his ministry to help his brother’s failing </span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">business. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">By 1948 he turned the
business over to the church and resumed his </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">ministry again. In 1949 the
Communist Party gained control in </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">China and the Christian Church came under
severe persecution. He </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">was arrested in 1956 and accused of many false crimes
including </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">tax evasion, bribery, and cheating on government contracts. He </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">spent
the last twenty years of his life in prison. Only Charity was</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">allowed to visit
him. Charity died in 1971 and he followed her in </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">May of 1972.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">His writings
continue to inspire Christians all over the world. His </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">grandniece was given
access to a note left under his pillow which </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">she memorized and reported. She said it was written in a large unsteady hand. It
said: </span><b><span style="background: white; color: #252525; line-height: 107%;">Christ is the Son of God who </span></b></span><b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background: white; color: #252525; line-height: 107%;">died for the redemption of sinners and resurrected after three </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background: white; color: #252525; line-height: 107%;">days. This is
the greatest truth in the universe. I die because of </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background: white; color: #252525; line-height: 107%;">my belief in Christ.
Watchman Nee."</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background: white; color: #252525; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #252525; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 25.68px;">This information was gleaned from Wikipedia.</span></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> When my mother once fell down the steps at the front of the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Methodism" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Methodism">Methodist Church</a> she had attended all her life, she swore, piteously from her reclining posture on the couch, she would never go again, but she lied. When I was about nine I made a profession of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faith" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Faith">faith</a> and joined the Church on <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palm_Sunday" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Palm Sunday">Palm Sunday</a> morning, and when I looked behind me she was there being supportive, though tearful.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_4b_qVFAyKV42bplRMZ068XaDVi1h9kmbjR1NhWnydAeV0GWtKnDmHiLGI0xD5GRlcrccpILSCtVc-IbyKlk6NnIpnbwbAgiaA38tZ-WlC_OI90ddjJ1uJbWLotVml16BOS-qOyWyq4/s1600/10991113_10152521489921504_8556660374098949419_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_4b_qVFAyKV42bplRMZ068XaDVi1h9kmbjR1NhWnydAeV0GWtKnDmHiLGI0xD5GRlcrccpILSCtVc-IbyKlk6NnIpnbwbAgiaA38tZ-WlC_OI90ddjJ1uJbWLotVml16BOS-qOyWyq4/s320/10991113_10152521489921504_8556660374098949419_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">(This is the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.umc.org/" rel="homepage" target="_blank" title="United Methodist Church">United Methodist Church</a> in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=33.4702777778,-95.2141666667&spn=0.1,0.1&q=33.4702777778,-95.2141666667%20(Bogata%2C%20Texas)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Bogata, Texas">Bogata, Texas</a>. The ramp on the left side has been added since I grew up.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I won't say I never had a crisis of faith, but I never rebelled in any significant way. I just always assumed that God was real and I was a Christian from that time on. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Since then I have born 6 children, loved and lost a husband, earned a degree, and worked in the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.tdcj.state.tx.us/" rel="homepage" target="_blank" title="Texas Department of Criminal Justice">Texas Prison System</a> as a psychologist, and now I can say without reservation, I believe in God as my Father and the source my life, and <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jesus" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Jesus">Jesus</a> as my Lord, my Savior, my Rock, and my Redeemer. During this process I have had many challenges to my faith, but I never lost my deep respect and reverence for God.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Over the years and challenges to my faith, I have explored the questions about <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Existence_of_God" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Existence of God">God's existence</a> and found nothing in them to replace my faith and the peace it brings me. I have read <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C._S._Lewis" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="C. S. Lewis">C. S. Lewis's</a> books and writings for many years. I have examined some of his works in regard to belief in God. One thing that impressed me about Lewis is that he was a highly educated man who was an atheist who became a Christian after 30 years of age. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Then I read about Albert Einstein who, even though he was a world renowned theoretical physicist, was still a believer in God. These two brilliant scholars both found reason to believe in an invisible God in the face of much argument not to. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> One thing seemed obvious to me: Believing in God has little to do with reason or argument. Building a beautiful argument to believe is a sterile and lifeless discipline if you are doing it as just a parlor trick. Believing in God extends beyond the limits of physical and astronomical bounds. It is born in the depths of the soul and draws on more than we have the capacity to understand, so it may be useless to appeal to the mortal mind. But that is a place to begin. Read the Bible, listen to the sermons, watch life unfold in people around, view joys and disasters, and see for yourself where God is and what He is doing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I love to write. I love the power and challenge of transforming my ideas and knowledge and experience to a form that can be shared with others. Sometimes I think I'm arrogant to think that anyone wants to read my stuff, but then I remember that maybe it's a thought they had not considered before. Maybe I'm obligated to share my thoughts with the universe. There goes that arrogance again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's fun to engage in struggle to say things the way you want to. And sometimes it's very hard. I really like the short, succinct, and sometimes memorable quotes, but they are usually reserved for Winston Churchill or Emily Dickinson. But still I try. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The hardest part of writing is finding a subject and an approach that I can feel confident about. First I have to have an opinion about the subject or something to say. If the subject is something that is talked about a lot or is a controversial subject in society, maybe it's easier. In this case the opinion may form quickly without great effort, but there may be many views of the controversy and I may have to examine my own bias before I can form an</span><span style="font-size: large;"> opinion. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have found that many things that are legal and common in our society are, by my conscience, highly objectionable. To protest practices and ideas that are already accepted by society may be the best way to instant oblivion for a writer. On the other hand, if the writer can be persuasive, it may be the avenue of change. "The Muckrakers" brought about change by exposing deplorable conditions and practices even though they suffered some personal threats and challenges to their careers. In the long run, it made some of them famous. Maybe I just need to dig a little deeper.</span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">One year,
before Thanksgiving, I learned the meaning of giving thanks in everything. The
verse doesn't say "Give thanks for everything." It only says to
"give thanks <u>in</u> everything." Give thanks in whatever
situation you find yourself. Give thanks when the light turns green, but give
thanks when it turns red, too. In favorable situations we should give thanks to
God and in tragic situations we are still required to give thanks. Bad things
happen. I don't feel thankful for them. I had learned that I wasn't giving
thanks for the situation, but God's intent for me was that I should give
thanks. Everywhere in whatever season and whatever weather. God required me to
give thanks to him. My feelings are not the focus of my thankfulness, but God's
sovereignty is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
I<span style="font-size: large;">'m thankful when I realize this is not my problem and God has a better plan
that I have. My girls were old enough to memorize and I required them to learn
this verse. I called it "the rule." When something happened that
overwhelmed me, and I couldn't express thankfulness to God, I would say,
"Somebody say the rule." One of them would repeat the verse out loud.
Hearing it in real time in the midst of the event would refocus my faith, and
suddenly the horrible was just inconvenient. I had another child after this had
become my practice. As soon as she was old enough to know her name, she
was indoctrinated, and she also became a prod to my conscience and faith.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
After some years, I don't remember how many, I read the passage and continued
to verse 19. I was astonished that the letters vibrated on the page. It said,
"Quench not the Spirit." Boy sometimes the Word really speaks to you.
I re-read the passage beginning at verse 16 Rejoice evermore. 17 Pray without
ceasing. 18 In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ
concerning you. 19 Quench not the Spirit. I read it again. Quench means to pour
water on the fire. Don't act in ways that prevent God's Spirit from being
active and alive in your situation, especially when it is a bad one. When we
accept the facts as they really present themselves and recognize God's power
and majesty, our faith is released for God to take action. When we whine
and complain, we restrict God's freedom to act on our behalf. "Quench not
the Spirit" became a corollary to The Rule, 1 Thessalonians 5:18. I
find it very faith-building to read this whole section often. You may find
other points and phrases that spur you on to obedience and faith in your
journey with Christ. Underline them or keep a journal. Memorize them. They will
sustain you in hard times. Sometimes they may be a bridge to a testimony.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
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