Mary's Heartbeats

  It has been breathtaking to hike the foothills and mountains this Spring.  The trails are lined with such a variety of flowers and growth. I am amazed that even with the small amount of rain we got this year, the plants have burst forth in the most brilliant color and array.  They seem to grow so effortlessly, as they are visible among rocks and crevices.  I try to provide the best conditions for flowers in my garden, and they don't seem to thrive as well as the ones in the harsher conditions.  I wonder why that is? The colors are always what draws me to the plants.  It seems as if the yellow blossoms are the first to bloom, and then comes the pinks, the blues, the oranges, and then my favorite ones, the purples.   Some also have a subtle sweet fragrance that overwhelms you as you walk through paths that are lined with them.  I always have felt that aroma from flowers is an extra gift from God.  Not only are you amazed by the beauty of the ...

Today is Mom's birthday.  If she were here,  we would be celebrating her 109th day of life.  I can't believe that it has already been 20 years since she said goodbye to earthly living.   I was much too young back then, at the age of 45, to lose my Mom.  You always long for at least one more conversation to ask the questions you didn't get a chance to do.  You often wished you would have had more talks, especially as you find yourself on a different side of life, other wise known as the senior years. As parents we always desire to keep our family ties together and close, but it doesn't always work out that way.  When our  parents were still living, and as they grew more elderly, they of course were the bond that brought my brothers and myself together.  As adult children, we each had a unique relationship to them, but I am realizing now, that we didn't necessarily have a tie with one another.  We were children of the nuclear family, ...

  I have just finished the autobiography of Eugene Peterson, "A Burning in My Bones." It has been hard to put the book down, as a new picture of Eugene, the author of "The Message," and so many other books, has emerged for me.  Most impressed upon me is his deep, deep love for people and His Lord and Savior.  He was captivated with silence and contemplation to the point of being too silent, especially with his lifetime mate, Jan.  Yet, I was so affirmed in having my own thoughts and questions, somewhat answered by one, who was not the perfect saint nor the one who went along with the "Christian majority," but thoughtfully aimed for a life of congruence, humility, great joy and gratitude.  He also discovered God's goodness in the beauty of each day, as well as the very ordinary.  I chuckled how he numbered all the creatures he saw on his hikes or walks, even taking notice to count horseflies and earthworms!  I realize more and more, that I do not need t...

It's rather comical, to think that the one who would be the very first King of a nation, would be out chasing donkeys! But here he was, Saul, the son of Kish, out on a mission to find his father's missing donkeys.  The journey takes him on and on throughout all the territory he has known, and leaves him pondering that if he goes any further his father will certainly be more concerned about his whereabouts instead of those rebellious run away beasts.  Where on earth could they be? So Saul, gets advice from his servant, that a man of God is in this very city where they are near and that everything he says comes true.  Sounds like a good idea to Saul, but they have eaten all the bread, what can be brought as a present to this man?  Fortunately, his servant had a quarter of a shekel and that would suffice for a gift.  You certainly wouldn't want to go empty handed.  So off they go toward the city, and walking up the hill to the city they get another tip from th...

I don't think we realize that the stuff we think we own isn't really ours.  From the time of being born into this world and cosmos, all that we have has been given to us.  We didn't even arrive  with the ability to provide ourselves with food or clothing.  We were dependent from the start. All  has been given, even our ability to take that very first breath of life outside of the comfort of our mother's womb.  All is really God's stuff. Watching my winter garden thrive, as broccoli and brussel sprouts are developing, I am mindful that although I have been the one to water the garden, to shoo away pesty insects, the actual growth and ultimate vegetable to eat is beyond me.  It's a transformation process I see outwardly, but a mystery as to how each day it is changed.  I see that this early morning, as the eastern sky has painted a magnificent spray of color before me.  Each day, each morning there has never been a sunrise like that one before....

  I did an unusual thing yesterday.  I typically have limited my music to a particular genre.  I don't think I have ever made a point to listen to an entire symphony.  But yesterday, I was encouraged to listen to Beethoven's 4th symphony.  There are actually several options to do so on Spotify, so I picked one and began to listen.  I began to marvel at the music, especially when I realized he didn't really start writing symphonies until he had become more deaf.  I wondered, how can one who is growing deaf make music so incredibly beautiful, especially when you are unable to fully hear the notes?  It's almost ironic, that one who cannot hear leaves this world with a soundtrack that still stands as some of the all time greatest music. Music makes mood, it quiets and stirs the heart, it brings joy and lightness.  Music is fun and makes you want to move, and yet it can also bring you to tears.  These could be tears of joy or sadness, as well...

  Too often we gloss over minor characters when we read a story.  Our tendency is to identify with the main character or more precisely the hero or heroine.  We bring that prejudice into our reading of Bible stories too.  I have just started reading the history books of the Old Testament, starting with 1 Samuel.  I had forgotten that it started out with the story of Hannah and her issue of infertility.  Usually, the focus of the story is on Hannah, her desperate prayer, her vow to God, and ultimately her answer to prayer by the birth of her son, Samuel.  Even her prayer of thanksgiving is utilized in Mary's prayer of thanks when her pregnancy of Jesus is confirmed with her cousin Elizabeth.  But this time, I noticed Peninnah.  She is wife #2 of Elkanah.  Reading the account, of only a few verses, I couldn't help but be reminded of two other sisters who shared a husband, Leah and Rachel.  There was infertility in that family as well,...