Mary's Heartbeats

I have never done so much walking.  I have walked briskly along a paved pathway in the July heat, and traipsed up rocky, dirt paths winding round the foothills.  I have had my steps counted with ranges of at least 10,000 to 14,000 and at times have reached heights up to  90 floors.  And yet I am sure despite the sweat, and heavy breathing that comes with those steps, they are nothing compared to the steps of those who lived so long ago. It's hard to imagine what it must have been to live up to 800-900 years, when daily you faced the fact of surviving.  Enlisting your ever growing family to build a life with you, quickly you realized, man never was designed to go it alone. From the very beginning, companions were needed to complement us, to fill in the gaps, for those inherent shortcomings we no doubt have within ourselves.  And everyday required you to walk. . .  So I have pondered for awhile, Enoch, a name just mentioned in a genealogy.  He w...

Jasmine and I have a morning ritual.  Jazzy girl is my faithful consistent German Shepherd who greets me every morning around 5:30 or 5:45 AM at the latest, with mild yelps of "time to get up and take me for my walk!"  At times I try to subdue her with constant hand strokes of love upon her face, but if they appease, it only is for a few minutes.  More likely, I ease out of bed, begin to brew the coffee and take a bit more time to wake up on my couch, with a blackberry candle lit and my journal in hand.  Jasmine paces and pauses at my feet, eagerly awaiting the time for her leash to flip on and the back door to open for our morning walk. After arriving back to our yard, Jazzy stretches out on the patio deck and I join her with my legs embracing her.  She responds by nuzzling her bear like head and neck into my chest, as I pet her with nice long strokes along her back.  The more I do that, the more she leans in, and I tell her again, that she is the mo...

" For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and springs, flowing forth in valleys and hills." (Deuteronomy 8:7) Spring is alive and well right before my eyes.  The birth of new baby birds is played out each day, as I watch from my kitchen window.  The family started out with at least 3 babies, but unfortunately 2 found our pool before they found their wings.  But the last one has figured it out, navigating the steps and the crevices as it hops and chirps across the pool deck.  Just in time the mother bird is there to interject feedings to the delight of her prodigy.  She is right on time, at least every 2 hours and reminds her eager offspring of the danger of getting to close to the edge of the steps by being a barrier to its reckless hops.  Life outside of the nest is seemingly harsh, certainly not an instant perfect flight.  It comes with ups and downs, trying out wings not fully developed ...

Standing on the edge of a long awaited Promised Land, the words of Moses rang out, "Hear, O Israel. . . "  A new generation of people born from former slaves had only known life in a wilderness, living on manna and witnessing the presence of God with a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.  Life had not been easy those 40 years, it was truly a test of survival.  Yet even their clothing had not worn out, nor did they evidence any marks of near starvation.  Miraculously, they lived and though tiny in number, their reputation of their God made surrounding nations fear them.  But like us, they too often grumbled and complained about their life situations, and tried to take matters into their own hands and ways, thinking God had forgotten them or rather that they knew better.  For times like that, Moses stood in the gap between them and God, and intervened on their behalf, reminding God of His great love and compassion for this very people . . . and God ...

We are being invaded by frequent flights of dainty Monarch-like butterflies, brushing briskly throughout our streets and yards.  Last night during chatter before my yoga class, I discovered they are known as "Painted Ladies," and yes, our area is part of their migratory pattern.  I have enjoyed being surrounded by their crooked and jerky paths, as I try to capture their picture while they take a break on my flowers.  I am reminded of the butterfly feeling I had when I was pregnant.  It was that first flutter of life within in my abdomen, when you weren't exactly sure what it was you were feeling.  It was there, definitely there, but unlike anything you ever had within you before.  It bounced from one side to the other, just like a butterfly bumping in a jar.  I am having a similar sensation now as I prepare myself to return to work in a week.  There is a definite newness within me, but only like a flicker of flame.  I wonder if it will be f...

Unhurried Serenity A quiet crisp December dawn With sleepy clouds, Arousing the morning sun. Interrupted only by the  Chatter of squawky wild parrots Perched atop  A crimson yellow tree. A rugged rocky journey With pregnant virgin, Finished only by the  Humble birth of Christ In a manger stall. Unhurried serenity? I wonder. . . Jesus, Prince of Peace Has come into the midst  Of life situations, crises and unknowns. Ushering in goodness,  Hope and joy. Gifting us with  Everlasting Unhurried Serenity. "The Lord your God is in your midst . . .  He will exult over you with joy,  He will be quiet in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy." (Zephaniah 3:17)

Here I am day #89 cancer survivor and I am all in.  I have walked these days with much soul searching and solitude.  I never could have predicted the particular paths that I have wandered down.  So much of the journey has been in unknown territory.  I have often heard how the cancer I had "was so different, very rare, not typical, and perhaps at best a very early cancer."  I have had multiple scans, both inside and outside of my body, and a total of 3 surgeries.  All of which have brought me back full circle to the fact that I did have a Left Fallopian tube cancer, but that has been surgically removed with my total hysterectomy.  I have been all in with the various plans that have been proposed to me, but today, there were more choices for me to personally make, with the options presented.  But to choose means that I will have to be all in. . . and so I wonder, am I really all in? The very word of cancer brings with it shock, fear, anxiety and...