Mary's Heartbeats

"I'm going fishing!" announced Peter to his comrades.  They all joined him in hearty agreement and set out that evening on the Galilean sea with the hope of overflowing nets.  But by early sunrise, they only had empty nets.  Nothing had bit, they only had the great catch of nothingness.   Of course, they were exhausted, having been up all night, rowing all over the lake, constantly throwing out the nets, and heaving them back in.  Fishing was not a task for light weights.   No, they all were ready to come home and go to bed.    But in the early misty fog as the sun was breaking through, someone stood on the beach, some stranger unknown to them.  Someone asking that annoying question that has been asked to anyone who has fished before, "Have you caught any fish?"  They all answer him a resounding, "No!"  But he doesn't let their answer dissuade him from offering them advice.  A stranger on the beach is going to tell those fi...

Pitch blackness greets me this early morning.  The daylight hours tell me that Fall has begun, but the Summer heat appears to have not received that message.  September seems to be even hotter than the traditional "dog days of summer." Yesterday afternoon, I caught a bushy tailed squirrel seeking relief from the edge of our pool, lapping up the water as if it were his last chance to ever quench his thirst again.  Even Goldyn prefers our indoor air conditioning to his outdoor spots of shade.  I made my way up the road, feeling the sun's intensity piercing through my back, but it was balanced out with a gentle, easy blowing breeze. I pondered the past days as I pedaled at a steady pace. I was weary from the week of work, the never endless electronic medical records in which you are constrained to instantly reply or then at home must continue to complete. Gardening tasks remain undone, as once again the weeds are winning in the front flower beds. Why do they thriv...

I'm not sure why there are still such times of sweating.  I can literally be sitting calmly without any exertion or excitement, and within minutes be drenched with rivers of moisture from my neck, right down to the back of my hands and top of my feet. Glistening from the inward inferno within my core, I tell myself I am least 10 years past menopause.  I should be beyond these "hot flushes."  Perhaps it is the weather, even global warming, as our "typical California weather," has been replaced with the high humidity of the Midwest.  Or maybe it is just the reality that once you hit menopause, your body temperature never is the same.  It's like your thermostat is always "a bit off."   And that's when I recall my Mom, even in her 80's, all of a sudden, having to fan herself because of the heat that no one else felt.  It's like we are in our own climate zone, apart from the rest of the atmosphere.  I tend to chuckle when this happens,...

It doesn't make sense.  Finally, the Messiah has come, the ministry is growing, miracles have abounded, and all He seems to focus on is leaving.  In fact, He tells us where He is going we cannot go.  Yet, we really don't need to worry because He's preparing a place for us.  He is leaving to get it ready for us and will then come to take us there.  Where's there?  And why does He have to leave at a time like this? What in the world is going on?  This is not what we signed up for.  Have we just fallen into a rabbit hole?  Perplexed and silent, His disciples pondered . . . Sometimes, I just need plain facts.  Or rather, I think all I need are the facts.  Sometimes the facts are right in  front of me, and I ignore them or misconstrue them or try to change them or even deny them. Sometimes, I am blinded and cannot see nor grasp them.  But all of that has no bearing on the facts, they are just plain facts . . . Having br...

Glenny, Jerry, and Bobby were the brothers of my Mother Verna.  I'm not sure why she seemed to always attach a "y ending" to their names, but it stuck with her and even them, regardless of their grown up years.  She also did it with my brothers, Johnny and Petey.  Maybe it was just a term of loving endearment in her big sister and motherly role.  No doubt it has happened once again this past week, as she welcomed her baby brother Bobby into his heavenly home. . .   Uncle Bob was probably the one brother I knew best from Mom's family.  Growing up, it seemed that we didn't always have a chance to spend a lot of time with her side of the family.  Grandma had died in her mid 50's of breast cancer, and although I was told that I was named after her, I arrived too late to ever have known her.  I only see her in the picture hanging on my wall.  Times spent with Grandpa and Uncle Jerry were limited due to lack of accommodations in their home....

The aroma sweetly filled my nostrils.  Ah . . .sweet rain has arrived!  I pedaled on my way enjoying each gigantic splat of rain on my face and back.  Big drops won't last long I assured myself, and I will be able to get my regular ride in this morning.  When you haven't seen rain for months, even a smattering of drops become a blessing.  Yes, it was healing rain that was falling upon me, drops of grace from God Himself . . . Rereading my journal of about 4 years ago, I recognized my inner changes.   Past days of disappointment, depression, anger, and resentment have been replaced.  Days of challenge now find me open and accepting, ready to be surprised by how the outcome may end up.   The shift in perspective is a process, one in which I'm still engaged.  But it was good to realize healing in my brokenness had enlarged my heart to give and love in better ways.  Rain had come to my  parched wilderness . . . She's a youn...

"All I know is that once I was blind, but now I can see."  How many times am I going to have to tell this story?  The formerly blinded-from-birth beggar who had lived at the mercy of others was now walking and seeing for himself.  Certainly not used to all of the attention surrounding his new visionary status, but why the repeated unbelief from his neighbors, the town folks, and even the religious leaders?  He watched as his parents were interrogated by the synagogue officials, questioning if he was really their son and if he had truly been blinded at birth.  The fact remained, the man had been given his eyes to see that day by a God fearing man who demonstrated His power through him.  His story stuck, all he knew was "the man who is called Jesus made clay, and anointed my eyes, and said to me, 'Go to Siloam, and wash'; so I went away, and washed, and I received sight." (John 9:11) All I know isn't much, at least I often feel that the older I get, th...