Smile. Did you know that when someone smiles as you, it instantly lifts your spirit and makes you think there is hope.
Be patient. A crowded checkout line is difficult on the checker, too. While you are waiting in line at the drive-thru ATM, get your card out, sign your checks and prepare your deposit. It will keep you busy, and help those behind you others get through the line faster.
Be a good listener. Let people tell their stories, their troubles, and share their joys without interruption. Ask God to help you hear, and respond with a word in due season.
Be patient. You did not get to where you are overnight, and no one else does either.
Don't think you have solved the puzzles of life and have the "right" answers. If you did, you would be with Jesus.
Love always. Love is not the kissy, feeling stuff. It is the sustaining attitude that you will be the pillar in the lives of those you know. You will accept their shortcomings, and treat them like Jesus treats you.
Pray and talk to God. When your boss yells at you, when you are facing a challenge at work or school, when you are stumped on a problem, talk to God. He does care about you.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Life is Hard but God is Good
Sometimes I'm just world‑weary,
Daily living brings me down.
To pay the bills and just survive.......
There seems no easy ground.
I take a quiet pause in life,
Reflect upon the stars.
Those tiny lamps glow joyously
And somehow give me cause
To contemplate God's promises,
His words of love and hope,
That overshine the weary days
And gently help me cope.
...And flowers, blooming artfully,
Reveal the wealth of God.
They do not work or gather goods,
Yet so arrayed are they,
That all the money in the world
Could scarce clothe me that way.
And these, a season's beauty, pass.
How much more God will do
For me to bloom as beautifully,
If I will trust Him to.
Daily living brings me down.
To pay the bills and just survive.......
There seems no easy ground.
I take a quiet pause in life,
Reflect upon the stars.
Those tiny lamps glow joyously
And somehow give me cause
To contemplate God's promises,
His words of love and hope,
That overshine the weary days
And gently help me cope.
...And flowers, blooming artfully,
Reveal the wealth of God.
They do not work or gather goods,
Yet so arrayed are they,
That all the money in the world
Could scarce clothe me that way.
And these, a season's beauty, pass.
How much more God will do
For me to bloom as beautifully,
If I will trust Him to.
Post Traumatic Sixites-Reality TV Begins
In 2010, reality tv has taken over the networks. But in the sixties, reality tv begins--and it was reality. Watching the news made you duck. It started with the replays of President Kennedy's assassination, then we watched Lee Harvey Oswald get shot. Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King were gunned down, and we watched.
There were riots, church bombings, and civil rights workers killed. The Vietnam war was broadcast regularly, until they had to stop because someone saw their son dead on a stretcher before they were even notified. And into the seventies, there were students killed at Kent State, and the clocktower massacre.
Before this, television was non-threatening entertainment. Women and children never got killed. Actually, I saw the first lady die in an episode of Bonanza. Anyway.
So trying to sell reality television to me is a hard-sell. I have seen the real stuff. And it left the youth of the sixties with a plateful of hard truth.
There were riots, church bombings, and civil rights workers killed. The Vietnam war was broadcast regularly, until they had to stop because someone saw their son dead on a stretcher before they were even notified. And into the seventies, there were students killed at Kent State, and the clocktower massacre.
Before this, television was non-threatening entertainment. Women and children never got killed. Actually, I saw the first lady die in an episode of Bonanza. Anyway.
So trying to sell reality television to me is a hard-sell. I have seen the real stuff. And it left the youth of the sixties with a plateful of hard truth.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
New Year
Wedge the wind beneath me
Challenge my heart with hope
Within my walls of walking
Life lifts,
Tracking trials
Molding memories
Choosing
Past or present
Which
Can break barriers
Or construct concrete.
Smiles surpass
Clearly commence
The present prevails
I begin again.
Challenge my heart with hope
Within my walls of walking
Life lifts,
Tracking trials
Molding memories
Choosing
Past or present
Which
Can break barriers
Or construct concrete.
Smiles surpass
Clearly commence
The present prevails
I begin again.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Surely Joy Comes In The Morning
HIDE AND SEEK
Quiet morning rising,
Still darkness in my heart.
I reach out for a light
To cross the room.
Sleepy eyes, blurred in shadows.
Dull thoughts, searching through the gloom
For what has come before.
I draw back the curtains
To let the soft light
Filter through the room,
Seeking out reminders
Of what the Lord has done.
The shadows fail.
The soft, pale light of promise
Fills the room.
I turn to face this dawn:
Fresh hope and joy.
Quiet morning rising,
Still darkness in my heart.
I reach out for a light
To cross the room.
Sleepy eyes, blurred in shadows.
Dull thoughts, searching through the gloom
For what has come before.
I draw back the curtains
To let the soft light
Filter through the room,
Seeking out reminders
Of what the Lord has done.
The shadows fail.
The soft, pale light of promise
Fills the room.
I turn to face this dawn:
Fresh hope and joy.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Christian Living
You are my life and breath,
My fiber, and the basis of my being.
You are the strength in my soul,
The keeper of the courage in my heart.
In the devastation of broken dreams,
Among the ruins of unrecognized hope,
You are the foundation for rebuilding
and rebirth,
The keeper of the courage in my heart.
Your Word is like a strong arm,
Your will a wall of safety.
You are faith itself, and never ending hope.
Though earthquakes rock my life
And split my dreams like paper
I cling to You, my constant source of strength,
Oh Lord, my hope and my eternal love.
You own my heart, and all that I have
Belongs to You.
What can I do that does not come from You?
What thought, or dream conceived,
Does not spring from Your creation?
I am, I am because You are,
Oh Lord.I am because You are.
My fiber, and the basis of my being.
You are the strength in my soul,
The keeper of the courage in my heart.
In the devastation of broken dreams,
Among the ruins of unrecognized hope,
You are the foundation for rebuilding
and rebirth,
The keeper of the courage in my heart.
Your Word is like a strong arm,
Your will a wall of safety.
You are faith itself, and never ending hope.
Though earthquakes rock my life
And split my dreams like paper
I cling to You, my constant source of strength,
Oh Lord, my hope and my eternal love.
You own my heart, and all that I have
Belongs to You.
What can I do that does not come from You?
What thought, or dream conceived,
Does not spring from Your creation?
I am, I am because You are,
Oh Lord.I am because You are.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Post Traumatic Stress in the Sixties
We know today that posttraumatic stress disorder is plaguing veterans. It took a long time for to admit that those who live with the constant threat of death are never the same. I remember when my husband returned from Vietnam. He was confused, angry, and finally, dangerous for me and my child to be around. I tried to get help from the Army and from the Veterans hospital, but no one knew then what we do now.
And I think also about growing up during the sixties, with the Cold war, the "duck and tuck" drills, the bomb shelters, and TV tests. I wonder sometimes if we all don't have just a shred of PTSD. That sense of fight or flight that leaves us jumpy, that lead us on the rebellious path that is the legacy of the sixties.
If we can dive into ourselves, and remember, we can help with the universal acceptance that man, in terms of both male and female, have difficulty taking lives in the exploding environment that is war, and then not expect these veterans to return to normality with the descent from the plane.
Acclamation into normality needs some time.
And, in the US today, what is normal? Don't we all share in the towers, in the fear? Of course, we live each day, we laugh, we go on, because that is the nature of man, to survive. But we can acknowledge, and have mercy.
I have lived with this sense of an impending threat since I was small, since I watched the TV, listened to adults talk about the bomb, about nuclear threats, and did the drills in school.
When I was 10, I wrote this poem:
I'd hate to be in a war
Even if I didn't get hurt.
To have some strange man come and say " I won you,"
I didn't know I was a prize.
Surprise!
And I think also about growing up during the sixties, with the Cold war, the "duck and tuck" drills, the bomb shelters, and TV tests. I wonder sometimes if we all don't have just a shred of PTSD. That sense of fight or flight that leaves us jumpy, that lead us on the rebellious path that is the legacy of the sixties.
If we can dive into ourselves, and remember, we can help with the universal acceptance that man, in terms of both male and female, have difficulty taking lives in the exploding environment that is war, and then not expect these veterans to return to normality with the descent from the plane.
Acclamation into normality needs some time.
And, in the US today, what is normal? Don't we all share in the towers, in the fear? Of course, we live each day, we laugh, we go on, because that is the nature of man, to survive. But we can acknowledge, and have mercy.
I have lived with this sense of an impending threat since I was small, since I watched the TV, listened to adults talk about the bomb, about nuclear threats, and did the drills in school.
When I was 10, I wrote this poem:
I'd hate to be in a war
Even if I didn't get hurt.
To have some strange man come and say " I won you,"
I didn't know I was a prize.
Surprise!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Discovered
I saw my dreams today in your eyes.
That glance surprised me.
The dreams danced lightly,
Snapshots from the future
I keep, and no one knows.
But your eyes knew.
Jewels, my feelings,
Displayed within my heart,
Diamond fire on dark velvet:
Merchant's wares.
And I, so startled, thought,
"I have a fortress so secure",
Bright chambers for my dreams
And stalwart sentries
Guarding all my treasure.
Miser, I am,
Holding all of this, but safe.
Until I saw what frightened me:
That someone knew my soft and secret child.
And yet, I would not trade
Or lay these jewels aside.
The feelings they reflect
Glide across my heart, so silken,
And, within their folds,
I clamor through this fortress,
Opening my dreams to see
How you have come by them,
And how they nested in your eyes.
copyright penstruck
That glance surprised me.
The dreams danced lightly,
Snapshots from the future
I keep, and no one knows.
But your eyes knew.
Jewels, my feelings,
Displayed within my heart,
Diamond fire on dark velvet:
Merchant's wares.
And I, so startled, thought,
"I have a fortress so secure",
Bright chambers for my dreams
And stalwart sentries
Guarding all my treasure.
Miser, I am,
Holding all of this, but safe.
Until I saw what frightened me:
That someone knew my soft and secret child.
And yet, I would not trade
Or lay these jewels aside.
The feelings they reflect
Glide across my heart, so silken,
And, within their folds,
I clamor through this fortress,
Opening my dreams to see
How you have come by them,
And how they nested in your eyes.
copyright penstruck
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Faith
A door beyond vision
or
A place beyond touch.
What cannot be known, is.
Transparent substance
That sustains through trials
And leads, like a light,
Down the shadowed corridors
Of an unknown day.
Things beyond knowledge
Are known through the heart:
Planted by a word from God
That grows, perceptive in the Spirit,
Discerning what is
And has not been,
Yet.
copyright penstruck
or
A place beyond touch.
What cannot be known, is.
Transparent substance
That sustains through trials
And leads, like a light,
Down the shadowed corridors
Of an unknown day.
Things beyond knowledge
Are known through the heart:
Planted by a word from God
That grows, perceptive in the Spirit,
Discerning what is
And has not been,
Yet.
copyright penstruck
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Sacred Things
Sacred things.
Keeping secrets,
Listening when you’re busy
Holding memories tight
And opening your heart.
Loving the unlovely
Smiling when you’re worn
Patiently tying a child’s shoe
And opening your heart.
For all the sacred thoughts and dreams
For holy smiles and words
For sunshine on a winter’s day
We hold our sacred things
Gently, like young children,
And sacredly open our hearts.
Copyright penstruck
Friday, November 5, 2010
What is Mercy
This is mercy.
The sense of dread is gone.
My shoulders lightened,
And smiling goes deeper than my lips,
Into my thoughts, into my eyes.
The everyday is restored with greeting.
I am looking forward to the usual,
Dusting, sweeping, paying bills.
Grateful thanks I awoke this morning.
No one was dead, no one was screaming.
No person was demanding my time, my decision, my thoughts
Today is mine. And I am happy.
Just a simple prayer. “Jesus, help.”
He did, and has, restored my life:
Because life isn’t always dreams fulfilled or desires obtained,
It is the everyday:
The joy of coffee, raindrops on the windows
And the sun rising,
The anticipation of joy.
copyright penstruck
The sense of dread is gone.
My shoulders lightened,
And smiling goes deeper than my lips,
Into my thoughts, into my eyes.
The everyday is restored with greeting.
I am looking forward to the usual,
Dusting, sweeping, paying bills.
Grateful thanks I awoke this morning.
No one was dead, no one was screaming.
No person was demanding my time, my decision, my thoughts
Today is mine. And I am happy.
Just a simple prayer. “Jesus, help.”
He did, and has, restored my life:
Because life isn’t always dreams fulfilled or desires obtained,
It is the everyday:
The joy of coffee, raindrops on the windows
And the sun rising,
The anticipation of joy.
copyright penstruck
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Moonie the Witch
Moonie the witch is an age-old fable
Told oft at night 'round the dinner table
She could fly like a cloud
She was fearless and bold
She was kindness and light
She was always polite
If you had dinner with Moonie
You would dine on the moon
Table set with star dishes and plenty of spoons
You could sit at the table, put the spoon to the floor
Scope up mounds of cheese
And then dig down more
There were sandwiches filled with Jupiter jam
And fine fish from Neptune, and heavenly ham.
Mercury cakes filled with smooth Saturn rings
And plenty of Marzipan icing the thing.
Volumes of Venus beans, Mars sauce on the side
A table so spread, you are almost cockeyed.
Then dirt cakes from Earth, served in sunny jugs,
And Sweet Pluto pudding filled Uranusing mugs.
You would eat all your able,
At the table with spoons
While the stars changed from dishes
To lights for the room.
And Moonie would smile, and offer you more
So that when you were full, you would lay on the floor.
Then Moonie would move all the tables away
Throw you a pillow
So you could comfortably lay.
While she started the music
Comet Tail Hop and Sway
You would stand up and dance,
Little footsteps sashay
The twirling and rocking were magic, pure fun
And everyone laughed, yes, everyone
When the sun began yawning, and rising for day
She would fill sacks with cakes
You could all take away
Then you would climb on the length of her broom
She would fly you to home and your own soft bedroom
Where you lay down your head
And smile with delight
From the dinner and dancing with Moonie that night
Copyright Penstruck
Told oft at night 'round the dinner table
She could fly like a cloud
She was fearless and bold
She was kindness and light
She was always polite
If you had dinner with Moonie
You would dine on the moon
Table set with star dishes and plenty of spoons
You could sit at the table, put the spoon to the floor
Scope up mounds of cheese
And then dig down more
There were sandwiches filled with Jupiter jam
And fine fish from Neptune, and heavenly ham.
Mercury cakes filled with smooth Saturn rings
And plenty of Marzipan icing the thing.
Volumes of Venus beans, Mars sauce on the side
A table so spread, you are almost cockeyed.
Then dirt cakes from Earth, served in sunny jugs,
And Sweet Pluto pudding filled Uranusing mugs.
You would eat all your able,
At the table with spoons
While the stars changed from dishes
To lights for the room.
And Moonie would smile, and offer you more
So that when you were full, you would lay on the floor.
Then Moonie would move all the tables away
Throw you a pillow
So you could comfortably lay.
While she started the music
Comet Tail Hop and Sway
You would stand up and dance,
Little footsteps sashay
The twirling and rocking were magic, pure fun
And everyone laughed, yes, everyone
When the sun began yawning, and rising for day
She would fill sacks with cakes
You could all take away
Then you would climb on the length of her broom
She would fly you to home and your own soft bedroom
Where you lay down your head
And smile with delight
From the dinner and dancing with Moonie that night
Copyright Penstruck
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Dancing on the Path
Is this why I danced?
With daisies in my hair
Wore skirts so short
My cheeks were constant blush
And mothered children:
To slip so quietly into assisted living and oatmeal
The past is paved within me
Roads and rooms so filled with what has been
Built upon the gentle stones of schoolyards and promise
Cemented with ambition and dreams
Sorrows and despair.
There are worlds within me,
My vision shines with them
Alive and touching all that I am
Sinew in my soul, whittled wisdoms in my thoughts.
Such eyes as these should not close
With nothing to remember that the future glides
On my footsteps.
Copyright Penstruck
With daisies in my hair
Wore skirts so short
My cheeks were constant blush
And mothered children:
To slip so quietly into assisted living and oatmeal
The past is paved within me
Roads and rooms so filled with what has been
Built upon the gentle stones of schoolyards and promise
Cemented with ambition and dreams
Sorrows and despair.
There are worlds within me,
My vision shines with them
Alive and touching all that I am
Sinew in my soul, whittled wisdoms in my thoughts.
Such eyes as these should not close
With nothing to remember that the future glides
On my footsteps.
Copyright Penstruck
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