Mary's Heartbeats

The crowds wouldn't stop, they continually were drawn to the teaching and healing of this man. They pressed around him and seemed to find him wherever he went. Since Jesus was by a lake and saw the boats of the fisherman, it seemed a good idea to teach from the boat and maintain the audience on the shore. After he was done teaching, he said to Simon (one of the owners of the boat), "Let's push out to deep water to fish." Simon's response to Jesus was reluctant at best, "We've worked real hard all night and caught nothing, but because you ask, I'll try again." Off they went into the deep and there they put those same old nets down just like they had done so many times before. All at once, it was as if all the fish in the sea were captured because the nets began to break! They had to signal other boats to come and help! They filled two boats of fish, almost to the point of sinking! Who knew that such a thing could happen? It's the last...

No matter how much you plan for Christmas, it always arrives too quickly and leaves too fast. Before you know it, all your talk is just of the memories. Perhaps that is the silver lining in the process, because you do take time to pause, reflect, and focus on those moments. It's those moments that thread your conversations for you to share. I was reminded of that this year, as I sat around with family. Although, some were missing from our circle, it was as if their presence still was there. We remembered all they did to make our Christmases just right, we could hear their laughs, feel their love, even hear their long distance phone calls, and savor their delicious holiday treats. I hope that now I make those memories for my family to recall. I hope I'm mindful of each moment I have to give. I want to be the one who laughed out loud, and loved each one to death. I hope I'll be the one that listened to their hearts, and encouraged them in a righteous path to go. "S...

“But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19) Dear Family and Friends, Ever wonder and ponder the Christmas story of old? It really seems to make no sense . . . It starts out with young Mary, a Jewish unmarried maiden, raised in a God fearing home. Joseph, her fiancé is older and known to be quite a virtuous man. His family too provided a godly heritage and lineage for him. With their credentials, all seemed to be going quite well, But into their wedding plans comes this surprise baby, A Supernatural Miracle. Confirmation comes by way of angelic messengers, And an older relative of Mary’s. Yet for nine months there must have been thoughts of: What next? Why us? What does this really mean? How will this ever work out for the best? Can we honestly raise a King? The final straw must have been that trip to Bethlehem. Now they would be away from family and friends, Who would help them with the birth? Any plans they may have had for help were nixed . . ...

Merry Christmas world! I love quiet Christmas mornings when no one else is awake. It's just me and the dog, quietly enjoying the morning sky awakening. There's a chill in the air until the heat kicks in. I savor my coffee as I reflect upon this day. . . Actually, I have had my best Christmas celebration yesterday on the eve of this very special day. For several years now, I have had a group of older ladies that I have coined "My Faithful Women." I think I started this especially in honor of my Mom who was so faithful to her husband and family, but especially to her Lord. Mom was one who in spite of all odds believed and hoped in One greater than any other. She remained faithful despite her own physical handicaps of hearing loss and chronic pain from osteoporosis fractures. She never questioned or at least didn't seem to ever ask, "why me?" But instead, she loved you always, and you knew it beyond any doubt; and she prayed for you const...

Many days have passed since I have written. Some of those were days of fatigue and darkness, but little by little, meaning and purpose has been returning to my life. I am not always sure why we have to travel such roads. I had stayed late again at work to finish up the endless call backs and numerous forms to write. I like to leave my desk empty at night instead of facing the inevitable the next morning. But now I was ready to leave, even though the puffy gray clouds threatened from my office windows. It has been a week of strange weather---raging heat at 100 degrees plus---and now intermittent afternoon thunderstorms. I breathed deeply the fresh smell of rain as I went to my car. The days are getting shorter, as I realized even at 6 pm the sun was beginning to set. Pulling into our driveway, I knew I had a one more chore to do; put out the trash cans for the collectors tomorrow. Getting out of my car and looking east, I saw it . . . Right there before my eyes was...

It had to have been the most rundown house in the neighborhood. Neglect had left it faded, without windows and screens in the upstairs. A rusty garage door hung unevenly and the wooden fence that circled the house hardly stood by itself as it feebly attempted to conceal the backyard junkyard. It seemed to have been a host for various people, for there were always several cars parked out in front, although individuals were not often seen. But something now has changed. They started by tearing down the old fence and filling dumpsters with endless stuff. A crew of people worked all day, digging, trimming, throwing out, from the inside of the house all the way to the outside yard. They scrubbed and painted quite quickly, and even within one week, change was evident. It now looks livable with borders trimly etched. The rose bushes in the front have shown off their blossoms that were hidden so long by debris. New windows and frames, fresh paint for the stucco, a real back ya...

It's not going well. The golf drive is lost, it seems to find trees instead of the narrow fairways. The putting is definitely off; if it is there, it is there only inconsistently. Bogeys and double bogeys are his friends that surface on the lonely courses. The focus and Tiger vision that once was so invincible now is blurred and blinded. What was to be one of the greatest years in golf history for him, now seems to be a distant and far away dream. I wonder what Tiger thinks these days, I wonder if he thinks all that he got away with in his former life was worth losing his game, his wife, his kids, and now his no. 1 spot. Was it worth it? In some ways, I give him credit that he is at least out there trying to make a comeback. However, there's another part of me that would just like to see him give it a break. It's like witnessing a lame horse trying to still run in the race. Sometimes the most respectable thing to do is to withdraw and reconsider. Maybe, just...

I had just had a conversation earlier that day with my husband. I had talked about how we don't seem to live in the age of the dramatic, visible signs of God that you read about in the Bible. I have never had a sea parted before me, or had a pillar of fire follow me, or had fire come down from heaven and entirely lick up a saturated sacrifice. I have never seen Jesus walk on water or feed gigantic crowds with just one serving of fish and bread or heal countless individuals. I would like to think that it would have been so much easier to believe if I had been living during those times, especially with such spectacular signs and wonders before me. But my husband reminded me, I wouldn't have gotten it either, I would be no different than the people back then who actually were witnesses to those events. His parting words stuck with me as he said, "Maybe, you don't recognize the signs that are in your life" . . . hm mm . . . I had taken the sheets of...

They seemed to have left in a hurry. They did have access to food, in fact plenty of leftover fish and bread had been picked up from feeding 4000 people. But as soon as they arrived to their destination, their Teacher was once again greeted with the arguing and questioning religious leaders of the day. "Show us a sign from heaven that you are really who you say you are!" they demanded. Sighing deeply, and denying their request, Jesus and his followers abruptly left . . . Don't they get it, that the sign they seek from heaven is actually standing and breathing right in front of them? Now trying to have a teachable moment with his disciples, Jesus begins to give them insight into the traditions and rules of the Pharisees and Herodians, i.e. insight into the danger of being spiritually dead and hardhearted by man made religion. But the disciples were hungry and could only complain to one another that they had brought one measly loaf of bread with them. So once aga...

I am laying back in the warm bubbles of the jacuzzi with my head resting on the edge between the pool. My relaxation is only interrupted by my dog's furry steps around my head and his quick lick of love on my face. It's a wonderful summer twilight. . . I watch the hummingbirds chase and dodge one another around the feeder, each wanting to get the prime seat of sweetness. It's amazing that a creature so tiny and fragile appearing has such dogged determination. Even when they rest in the nearby tree branches, their feet steadfastly cling to the branch that bobbles wildly in the breeze. It's as if they are surfers on the mighty waves! Yet, nothing deters their birds eye view of things, and quickly they come again to feed before nighttime falls. . . I still am enjoying my upward view and now catch the yellow bellied wild parrots passing overhead. I usually hear their squawking conversation with their mates, but tonight they seem content to just fly side by side ea...

It had been another exhausting day, from morning until evening. Extra time was involved in feeding hungry people who had stayed and listened, watching the Teacher for any great work that may be done before them. The 12 disciples who followed had grown tired and hungry as well, they were willing to send the people away, but no, that wasn't His way, the Jesus way. He fed them fish and bread, and used their very hands to serve it up. The meal had started with just enough for one, but they had gathered even leftovers after the 5000+ crowd was full. He was obviously tired, and sending his disciples on in their boat, he stole away up the mountain for rest and rejuvenation for his soul. But, sleep would once again evade Him . . . He saw their struggle with the waves and wind. No matter how hard they rowed, their attempts were futile, as water began to gush over the sides of the boat. So He left his quiet sanctuary and entered into the storm upon the sea. Walking toward them, ...

She was trembling as I came into the room. I spoke to her softly as her eyes welled up with tears. Separated for years from her husband, only living under the same roof, but still trying to care for him with all his physical ailments and needs. Until today, the time had come to say enough. She was tired of managing it all, fixing it all, controlling it all. She was just a wife of convenience, just one to pick up after him, and be at his beckoned call. Until today . . . I hear this story often. I know there is something within women to care and nurture, even if it isn't always reciprocal. Women have enduring patience and long suffering that can put up with excruciating pain. Women can bear the physical pain of childbirth, and yet after the birth seemingly forget the agony as they revel in the joy of their newborn babe. Marriage shouldn't be reduced to convenience. Beneath the stamina of a wife in caring for her family, is her need of being nurtured and cared for...

Back again to blogging, yea! It's been several weeks and my dry days seem to be passing. I have been searching for meaningfulness to my work. I have had more questions and wonder often about any possible good I may do, and yet peace and contentment still allude me. However, I have come to realize that rest, "time outs," and solitary activities are measures that mend my weary heart . . . It is only the beginning of a short, but focused ministry. The pressing crowds are drawn to Him magnetically, they mainly follow for their own concerns and healing. He speaks with compassion yet with authority in a way that they have never heard before. But it's mostly His acts that they seek, His amazing miracles. No one seems to notice that he often doesn't have a chance to eat without an intrusion. He catches up on sleep in the stern of a boat tossed about by afternoon gusts and gales of wind. He constantly is explaining himself, to his followers, to the religio...

I am still finding myself in a slump, fighting daily fatigue. I think I am embracing the thing they call burn out. It can happen to anyone, and it's happened before at different stages in my life. It sneaks in when the good that you attempt to do gets squashed and trampled by endless, mindless paperwork and bureaucracy. For those of us who want to help people, (as nurses, we are the caring profession), it is the worse experience to have your work evaluated by how many forms you complete each day. I remind myself over and over that this is not what I chose to become or do, but yet I find myself so stuck. . . Until today, I heard encouragement to look again and find that thing within me that can make my world a better place. Look again and find the passion of my heart. Look again and open myself to receive my Savior's love and grace. The message was so compassionate and heartfelt that all I wanted to do was gulp it down. It was like hearing my preacher Dad, but...

He ran with all his strength to the southern most part of the land, into Judean territory, and deep into the wilderness. They were all after him or maybe it was just the evil Queen Jezebel; even so, he was still outnumbered, thousands to one. Finally, stealing rest and finding sleep, he's nourished with hot bread and fresh water. Now, Elijah climbs the mountain of God to find refuge. There in the darkness of a cave, he pours out his heart to God, "I am all alone in this world, despite all that I have tried to do; the people kill your prophets, tear down your altars, and forsake your ways . . . I am the only one left." Covering his face with his mantle, Elijah steps to the front of the cave after a ferocious wind, an earthquake and fire storm have passed him by. Fearfully, he repeats the same words again, he is all alone in this desperate, frightening world. God's response is quiet as a reassuring breeze. There is still work to be done, kings to be anointed, a...

I couldn't move, my legs and arms felt like loaded sandbags. My mind and eyes were heavy, I would sit or stretch out on my bed and find sleep invading my daytime hours. I had no energy to fight it off, so I succumbed and became inert. Why are there days when I can have so much strength and then these days of sluggishness that completely wipe out any short-lived gains? Wrapped within my physical exhaustion is a restless mind, not content to settle, but looking for control and peace. Spiritually I am spent, I long for a miracle before my eyes . . . I am reading this familiar story, and I know where it will eventually go. Elijah was a prophet who alone seemed to hear the occasional voice of God. First to announce a severe famine, then to challenge 850 prophets and a King who didn't believe in Yahweh. It was an impressive showdown on the mountain top when God answered his humble prayer by bringing fire down from heaven to burn up and consume the offering that he h...

Where does the time go? It's June already, and I have not even been able to do the one thing I had decided the beginning of this year. That was to blog daily. It seems such a simple thing to do, just sit down, take a few moments and write my thoughts on each day. But my days end up gone before I accomplish what I want to or perhaps I give up too easily, and allow other things to fill my days. Maybe that is why I feel so stuck, so in the middle. Being in the middle is unpleasant, because you are the one who is always squeezed. It can happen at home and in family relationships, especially if you try to be the negotiator. It happens at work when you're the one who buffers management and client. It happens especially now at my midlife age of 50 and beyond. I feel stuck in what I have done and accomplished. I feel like I have hit a ceiling in what I do, and I stand in the middle of "keep doing what I've always done and trying something new." My idleness...

I woke up to such a beautiful day, the sun was already brightly shining through the bamboo shades. It was a glorious day for a walk and run with Goldyn. He was just as eager as I was as we started out. The views were clear and invigorating, and I felt like I could run forever. . . The warm sunshine was a long-awaited welcome for summer days ahead. I savored everything I did in the sun, watering my flowers, planting the freshly sprouted cucumbers, and pulling out the cushion for my favorite lounge chair so I could completely stretch out. The best part came toward the end of the day, when a gentle breeze swooped in and slowly dimmed the sun. I love the twilight air, I sat down with Goldyn by my side and then let all the memories pass before my very eyes . . . A couple of days before, the 27th of the month was my Mom's birthday. It has been eight years since she has passed, and it seems so long, but then not really. I still see her wonderful grin and the brightness of ...

Today was the day for my bike ride, but a hasty wet rain had made me postpone my trip. Now the sun was out again, the gray clouds pushed aside, and so I started down the street that glistened like gold from the sun rays that beamed in front of me. The air was fresh and brisk, all the plants, flowers, and trees had perked up with their morning shower of rain. Even the birds seemed to be singing cheerier now, as if they had just cleared their throats. Once again before me lay my lonely stretch of road that I discovered actually dead ended into a horse ranch. It was surrounded by beautiful thick brushy foothills or high places. I wondered as I pedaled up, what is it about high places that we seek them out so much? Two kings emerged. One was the rightful king, the heir of the former king, but he seems to exhibit way too much testosterone in establishing his throne. Not to be outdone by his father, he unwisely rejects the advice of the elders, and listens to his own ruthless cro...

I love sitting at my kitchen table eating hot oatmeal pancakes with fresh maple syrup. I'm gazing at my tall proudly pink hollyhocks growing in my yard. I plant flowers in my garden that hold memories for me, and hollyhocks are pictures of summers spent with my Granny in Peoria, Illinois. They grew in the ally that fenced her backyard and also in between her driveway and her neighbor's. They were multi-colored and festive, and my Dad showed me how to take a bud and place it on an upside down bloom to create the perfect hollyhock doll. I would make a collection, and have them all swirl around as if dancing at a ball. But the best thing about hollyhocks that I have noticed is their resilience. They grow with little care, they don't need much water to grow stately, they withstand the winds, and even bloom when all they have are just a few strands of stem. That's like my Granny who lived to the wonderful age of 107 years. She too was strong even in imperfect c...

All is not well in the midst of much. It was only a few chapters previously when we were told of King Solomon's love for God. Yet, years later after making and building a magnificent kingdom and residence, his heart seems dull in doing wise and just actions. Instead, his desire is caught up in getting more gold, in loving more women, and seeking other things, other gods and idols. Now, Solomon receives his final visitation from God and is told that all that he has gained will be ripped from him and his descendants. Out of the 12 tribes that made up his kingdom, only one will survive. It's survival is only because of God's decision and grace, not because of Solomon. It's a sad ending for what started out with so much promise, hope, and prosperity. The wisest man who always had the wisest wit apparently falls silent when he hears this final word. There is no record of his thoughts or words of response. Wise words alone are no match for unwise actions. . . I w...

The gold just poured into the kingdom like a relentless waterfall. It came as gifts from foreign kings, as well as regular shipments that were set up for trade. There was so much gold that the weapons and shields could be made of the precious metal, even everyday dishes and drinking cups. There was so much gold that it out-valued silver. But note that the silver shining in the kingdom was so plentiful it was like ordinary stones tossed about. And the bling didn't stop there, there were luxurious garments, fabrics, weapons, spices, horses, mules, ivory, apes, and peacocks! Wow, it must have been heaven to live in King Solomon's house! But the shiny bling blinds the wisest king, as he forgets the God who gave him life, wisdom, and his throne. His heart becomes complacent and even less devoted. It happened then, it happens now. There is something so enticing about having riches and glittering stuff, that men will kill and die for it. It seems to promise power and cont...

I always am somewhat envious of those who have such wise things to say, especially in circumstances of "speak now on your feet." I have realized over the years that I am much better to hear what is being said, and then have time to think and answer after I have pondered what was being said. Then I am able to respond with sense and clarity, and perhaps a bit of wisdom. But words are not what really matter. . . really. In the end, it's what we do, it's action that really evaluates any wisdom we would hold. The case in point for which this truth is seen is the life of King Solomon. He was the wisest of the wise, and so famous, he must have been one the greatest celebrities of his time. The Queen of Sheba decides to pay him a visit, because she has been quite impressed with all that she has heard. Why not sit at the feet of the wisest person known to man and get all of your "whys" and "how comes" answered? Just coming into his magnificent ...

It's a haul . . . an uphill grade, one in which I pedal standing up on my bike. I relish the strength I've found in my legs, though I am sweating a river and panting for breath. My mind ignores any exhaustion and repeats only verses or songs to mix with my vision of being at the end of the street. I've climbed a bit farther this year, more than I've ever done in the past. I'm at the top, at least so I think, yet having reached that destination I find a bit more of a bend in the road to explore. But for now, I'm ecstatic for the progress I've made. The whole valley is spread out below me like green bumpy carpet surrounded with walls of blue sky and low puffy clouds. I sit and begin to coast down, down, down . . . That's when it hits me, the coolest breeze whips right up against me. It's brisk and refreshing, and I can't get enough. I just want to breathe it in like a smooth summer drink. . .

It just started out as a way to talk with my Mom. I'm not sure how she became so deaf, it was as if she had been exposed to jet engine noise, in that she was unable to completely hear out of one ear and the other was so minimal that in all practicality, she was unable to hear out of that one too. It seemed rather sudden in her early seventy's that this occurred, but down the years it progressed significantly. She lived away from me, and yet I wanted to talk with her so often. I would call on the weekends, but she was unable to hear me on the phone. She would greet me, but would have to rely on my Dad to catch her up on our news. So I decided to write, because I knew she not only would read my letters, but she would save them up. I'm not sure how it happened, but somewhere along that time, I would find myself writing to her in poems and stories, attempting to show her a complete picture of my heart. And she loved my writing, she would often tell me, and she saved th...

I have always wished that I had been born a pioneer woman. Thinking of myself as being hearty and earthy, I'm sure I could have handled living off the land. I love the outdoors and creation's majestic beauty. I have seen the power of rain, storms, and floods to respect all that nature has to offer. Growing up with access to the Rocky Mountains gave me opportunity for hiking and exploring. Memories of eating wild gooseberries, sneaking up on a deer, wading through crystal clear cold creeks, and fishing for rainbow trout are some of my best. Maybe it came from reading the "Little House on the Prairie" series that fed my imagination and yearning to have lived a different time. But that wasn't the plan, for I am here. . . All of us are gifted with life. As if that is not enough in and of itself, we are individually given talents, strengths, and abilities. We know that King Solomon was given wisdom at his request from God. He was put in the time of histo...

Having realized that bloodshed was necessary in establishing his father's kingdom, King Solomon found himself dreaming one night in a place called Gibeon. In that dream he had an open conversation with God. He acknowledged his inadequacy in being ruler of the great nation of Israel and compared his immaturity as a leader to that of an ignorant child. His request was simple, just "give me an understanding heart, (literally a hearing heart), to judge Your people, and to discern between good and evil." It was a genuine honest request that pleased the Lord. So Solomon was granted "wisdom, and very great discernment and breadth of mind, like the sand that is on the seashore." (I Kings 4:29) Along with the gift of wisdom, God chose to give him riches and honor like no other king and if Solomon chose to walk righteously, God would prolong his days. Then he woke up. Wow, talk about a mind-blowing experience, I wonder if upon awakening, Solomon suddenly had all...

I relaxed on the couch with a cup of steamy hot chocolate. Putting my feet up, my buddy Goldyn joined me after I granted him permission. He took full advantage of my offer by sprawling across my lap and legs. He was so furry and warm, which I welcomed on this unseasonal cool Spring night. His freshly washed coat was cuddly soft and he smelt so good, that I enjoyed just burying my head in his neck . . . Oh, how I love great big dogs! But he didn't get that way by himself, because earlier that day he had to have his bath. Now, Goldyn loves the water, in fact he readily gets in the pool, even up to his chest during cold winter days. But just like a kid who tries to avoid soap and water, Goldyn instinctively seemed to know what was coming when the green big tub arrived on the patio. It was going to be a challenge for me and for him as this was the first time I wouldn't have my son to assist. I carefully planned my strategy, figuring a way to keep him leashed until...

Mmm . . . I caught the faint sweet smell of the freshly picked lilacs as I walked through my family room. Lilacs have gotta be the fragrance of Spring! As I sat down and started to read, their aroma quickly drifted off. Instead, I found myself knee deep in blood and gore. In bold print was how King Solomon initially established his kingdom and power. He had a hit man, Benaiah, who carried out his plans, and killed off the threats to his political power. This included Solomon's older brother, Adonijah, who had failed at capturing the kingdom for himself. It was also, Joab, his father's former army commander, who himself had been involved with killing those he felt were in his way. Finally, it was Shimei, who had been a tormentor of his father King David. So King Solomon had settled the score, both for him and for his father; now, he could rule. I think I know why people don't like to read the stories found in the Old Testament. I think they find them muc...

I pulled in the driveway easing my way into the garage as the door rolled up. Whew! I had done it! I had just completed a three hour yoga session. I was a bit sore, but realized once again how much stronger I have become over this past year and how much my mind has calmed in response to stress. Walking into my empty house, I called for "Goldy-Locks," he was already relaxed in his spot by my bed. His tail wagged as I approached, and together we walked out to the backyard, so he could take care of his "final business"for the night. I guess I've grown accustomed to my quiet nights at home . . . The ringing of the phone caught me by surprise, hmm . . . who would be calling now, so late? "Hello," I said and then just smiled as the voice on the other end was my husband checking in on me. "How did it go? Are you in for the night now?" he said. I reassured him that all was well and that I am safe and sound. "OK, I'm just ma...

"The emotional place where a marriage begins is not nearly as important as the emotional place where a marriage finds itself after many years of partnership." ( Elizabeth Gilbert) My collard greens had grown up once again and had burst in yellow blooms. The Swiss chard was not to be outdone with its bright red stems and purplish green gigantic leaves. Even the onions had flowery balls coming out its stems. I completely enjoy this task of cutting down my harvest and filling up my basket. I have been able to do it several times since planting. There is just something about being able to eat vegetables that you plant and tend to. It's the best of two worlds, pleasing to the eye and tasty to eat! I was especially proud of my green onions--so many in a bunch! I was already looking forward to future pickings as I saw how fast my raspberry bush had sprung up from its winter nap. So with great pride, I walked into the room with my freshly washed, fragrant onions ...

King David lies dying. He's done what he must do, he rightfully bestowed the kingship on his son Solomon. But the kingdom has been divided with political and personal foes. One of his other sons, Adonijah, thought that he could steal the throne by rallying a few alliances and throwing a victory celebration to make his own royal proclamation. The party ended when the uproar of the crowd announcing King Solomon's reign disturbed them. They all ran for cover and now loose ends are left in making this kingdom finally united . . . With each generation of life comes loose ends. There is always unfinished work to be done, and what might have been started with our parents, our grandparents, our great-grandparents, eventually winds up with us. We have ample opportunity to complete what they didn't accomplish or what they had hoped and dreamed for. It's up to us in how we live our time. Just like David desired Solomon's name to be better than his and his throne gre...

Well, I found myself caught up again in watching golf. This time it was the famous green jacketed Masters Tournament. It proved to be four days of great shots, amazing saves, and perfect putts. I was pleased that my buddy Phil Mickelson came out the winner. His game especially over the past two days was dazzling, and even seemed to catch him by surprise. But I must admit, my eyes welled with tears as he embraced his wife and kids after his victory. It was wonderful to see his wife there at his side, as she has been very ill with breast cancer. Of all the golfers chasing this win, it seemed most fitting that Phil should come out the victor. . . And Tiger seemed like Tiger, still able to make such unbelievable shots. I would easily find myself caught up in his game and cheering him on, but then my mind would recall all that has been revealed about this number one golf player over these past five months. True, when I think of how he lived his life, I am completely repulsed. ...

King David was very old now, so old that he couldn't even keep his body warm. A beautiful maiden had to be found in the kingdom who would come to be his nurse and warmth. Abishag was her name and she attended to his needs, as he was much too feeble. In this state of weakness and lost virility, David still had not announced who would be his king replacement; and in his family now, chaos reigned because of his indecisiveness. It took the prodding of his wife Bathsheba and the prophet Nathan to finally get David to proclaim the kingly plan. King David, known throughout the ages as the "man after God's own heart," a valiant warrior, the composer of hymns and psalms, the former shepherd boy who defeated the mighty giant Goliath, and the one who gave in to the temptation of stealing his captain's wife and murdering him to cover up the wrong. Yet, most notably, you can't ignore how David played the passive father part in bringing up his children. . . ...

I'm back to my early morning bike rides. Although the sun isn't fully awake, the sky is light and the birds have started their songs of praise. I am enjoying the crisp air biting at my ears, my hands, and knees. I have just reached my highest destination for the morning and have started the downward trail. As I am rounding the corner for the bike path, about forty feet in front me comes a skittish coyote. He's lanky, with short tan fur, and gallops with his hind legs lopping to the side. He's got a steady pace, although it looks uneven. He's not too sure about what to make of me, especially as I seem to be in hot pursuit of him. I decide to have some fun, after all I'm the one on the bike, so I speed up attempting to close the gain he has on me. But he keeps an eye out for me by peering over his right shoulder to make sure I am still in the distance. Up ahead he finds relief. There's a bridge to the other side of the trail and he quickly darts ac...

I know that I am a person of the Book and a person of faith in God. But there is just something about once again reading the account of the resurrected Jesus and how he responded to his closest followers that remind me that the God I believe in is personal and relational. He's not a stone cold, carved image or just a fleeting wispy spirit, nor is he Mother Earth and only visible in his creation. His followers did not believe it true that a crucified rabbi could rise again. They found an empty tomb and then oddly went away, back home; shut the doors, hoping they wouldn't be found by those who may try and kill them too for following that teacher. Mary Magdalene found the empty tomb, and in fact, she was the one to inform the others. But after they all left, she stayed behind and cried, it seemed that all continued to go so terribly wrong. First, the One that she believed in, who had indeed saved her from her sins, was horribly killed before her eyes, and now his bo...

The end of the book has come. All of the visions and interpretations have ceased. Daniel is left with so much information about the near and distant future, all so difficult to even comprehend. But the final message to him is simple, just "go your way." It's repeated twice as if for emphasis, it reminds me that each of us is to "go our way," life is not to be played out on the sidelines. There is something so inquisitive about our human nature that we are always wanting to figure out the future, perhaps we feel it would make our life easier in that we wouldn't have to work so hard to figure out what to do . . . Yet, I think God in his mercy has given us just enough. He graciously hasn't laid out our future in minute details, for he knows that with our finite minds and bodies, we would be totally succumbed, just as Daniel often experienced throughout his vivid dreams and visions. . . No, his message is simple, "go your way." Go your...

An old familiar story came to me the other day. It is about the child who sat in the dirt with a small shovel, bucket of water, and made small mud pies. Yet in the shadow behind him was a magnificent playground where there were many more children, all laughing and playing, running and scampering about. When the child was invited to join the others, he declined as he was unsure of what a playground really was and would rather just keep making mud pies. No amount of coaxing or persuasion changed his mind. Making mud pies was all he knew . . . Perhaps, one of my greatest fears when I become older and more frail is that I will want to stay playing in the mud. Change is always difficult, but mainly when we fight against it. We spend so much more energy in mustering defenses, and reasons to be against it, that we totally exhaust ourselves in being reasonable about situations. That will be the danger that I could face unless I practice the ability to listen, to accept my limitatio...

I had the privilege of hearing again the pioneer of the Nurse Practitioner movement, Loretta Ford. As always, she spoke with inspiration, wisdom, and wit. She reminded me that power, control, and money rule the world; that is the arena in which the world has always played. It's similar to the arena described by Daniel, a prophet of old. He records the big three as militarism, materialism, and religion, which are actually disguised today as power, money, and control. Those three issues often keep us from doing what is right. . . Too often I see that people do not want to give up power; we can talk of diversity, but when it comes to being truly sensitive and respectful of differences, we can do so to a point, as long as we don't lose our seat or place at the table. Of course, if we have money and all the stuff that it can buy (including friends) to back up our power, that always gives us a greater advantage, especially to threaten those who would dare take our place...

I couldn't seem to find any flowers that would express my regret. Even the orchids appeared a bit too old and the spring bouquets lacked freshness, so I guess my sympathy card would have to do. It would probably be alright, it did express what I wanted most to convey, my care and the comfort of a loving God. I walked into the dry cleaners, just like I do every Wednesday afternoon. She usually meets me at the door, but today she was back behind the rows of clothes. All I said was that I was so sorry and hugged her in my arms, and then we both just cried. I listened to her painful story of a son gone much too soon. Tears became our bond . . . I find that for some reason, I tend to cry much easier and more often now. The tears seem to be much closer to the surface of my life. They can flow with joy and happy times, as well as pensive and thoughtful days; they emerge with sentimental readings and movies, and they are there at times of sorrow. I've discovered that i...

It is interesting that health care reform is viewed as an impingement of our individual right and freedom. It seems to be such an infringement that certain states are suing the government and encouraging their political leaders to repeal this law. And yet I wonder, if people truly understand what they have already given up by the lifestyle they have chosen to pursue. . . According to the UC Berkeley Wellness Letter, April 2010, "Weight-wise, Americans are divided evenly: one-third are obese, one-third merely overweight, and one-third normal weight or underweight. If the trends from 1990-2005 continue, nearly half (45%) of us will be obese by 2020. . . 43% of US adults will be obese by 2018. Health care costs related to obesity would quadruple to $344 billion and account for 20% of total health-care spending." Also noted is that at least one third of American children are overweight or obese. Why aren't we up in arms about this silent, growing trend that brings...

"Health care is not a moral right for us, it is a privilege," he argued from the phone. Hmm, I wonder, if that is a worldview according to the One who shaped and formed us or is that the selfish will of man? Yesterday, was a day that perhaps will finally signal change, that may in fact bring care to those who have been without, and yet I hear such anger from those who may have to help. We didn't arrive to these complicated problems overnight, and truth be told, we are facing these issues because of our glut and greed. We are the nation of over-consumption, we evidence it in our gigantic homes, our great big cars, our hefty paychecks, and pork-size bellies. All of that has made us indifferent to the needs around us, and made us thirst for so much more; for us, of course. The great American way seems to be just look out for yourself . . . greed has such an insatiable appetite. . . But my world view is different. I read of God who lovingly created this world, cared ...