Jehovah's Blessings Abound

Yes, once again the Eastbrook Choir is delving into the unknown and singing in a foreign language - Mandarin Chinese.
We have sung this song before, but my over disciplined American English mouth is fighting the nuances of the Chinese. I try and try and try but it seems I can't get over SH being a slushy S sound...or nearly silent G's on the end of words, or all those stupid HIGH notes. It appears that in China they are more relaxed about their worship and their vocal chords can vibrate to make the upper register sound glorious and smooth.
Well, on the up side, the Soprano's can carry the really high notes. I can just shut down and mouth the words.
It will be better than being shrill.

But, thinking back, last time I faced the same dilemma and somehow, once I started to sing in worship and not in the learning mode, the notes, the language, the spirit...just came to me. I was able to sing with confidence because in the worship setting, it wasn't for me, or Georgine, or the rest of the choir...it was for HIM.

I'll bet the rest of my life would be equally focused and worry free, if I did everything I do for HIM.

That would be a good goal...but I am still not vacationing in China...ever!

still hurts after a month

A few weeks before Christmas my father was discussing one of his step-daughters who was being ordained a minister…after a few weeks study and a correspondence course. She did her lessons at home and was flying to California for the mass ordination ceremony. He said he couldn’t believe she thought that because she paid someone a bunch of money and was taking part in a ceremony she could be a minister. “It’s just one of those cult churches…like yours.”


I felt that I had been slapped in the face. It wasn’t so much that he said that, but that he was so clueless about my newfound faith. I told him that I had never been closer to God than I am now – that I am happier in worship than when I was a member of the catholic church and that our church was a bible based, Christian church…to which he replied that “any church can say that…it’s doesn’t mean anything.”

I left the room.

I know I should have handled it better, but I was not only hurt, but stunned. I couldn’t believe that my father was still so bitter that my worship was not in his church…and it’s not even his church. It is God’s church; one of a million churches based on the life and death of Jesus Christ. I know that my father believes in God, in the resurrection and salvation guaranteed to us by our faith. I didn’t know he didn’t believe in me.

After a few other family members asked my father what he was thinking to have said what he said, he started to regret it. I had asked him to join me for our Christmas Eve service and he did, telling my oldest sister that he “owed me.”

I think that Christmas Eve opened his eyes to what I was doing with my faith. He got to see that we worshipped and prayed and loved each other. I think for the first time, he realized that I actually am in a congregation – not a group of people who show up, pray and leave.

Will he ever say he is sorry? No, he won’t. He is 88 years old. He has already forgotten the hurt he caused.

Will I have better answers the next time he asks? Gosh! I hope so.

What to do?

I feel like I am starting to reach my "golden" years, but I am feeling so middle aged right now. I am too old to expect to find a job that uses my skills because jobs I can do are being doled out to the young, energetic people. I am also too young to do what I have been doing for too much longer. Maybe I should have moved to a different job back before I turned fifty. Maybe I should have gone back to school when I was young and be a nurse...or a teacher...or an astronaut.

AM I NUTS?! Why do I second guess my abilities and choices? I should just be happy to be in a rewarding job that challenges me every day. I should see the opportunites to accomplish things as a road to feeling self satisfied. I should start seeing that no one, and I mean no one, could do what I do on a daily basis as well as I do it.

So maybe this year will open a door for a new opportunity - or maybe I will just take the joy of life and apply it to my old job. Perhaps I need to see that my coworkers, however immature they are, are just like me - trying to make it in a job where reward is not balanced by amount of work; appreciation is not doled out like soup at a mission; peace of mind is not a daily occurence.

Maybe I can even use my faith to strengthen myself as I work and positively influence the rest. Who knows? I may be able to show someone else how to make things better too. If I start it, maybe a few guys will pick up the ball and run with it.

Maybe instead of asking what to do I should just do it...imagine the world if every time someone wanted to better the world, they followed up on it and just made it better.

I think I can do that.

2011

If you followed me, you know that I did not achieve my goal of a blog a week. BUT that is why we have restarts every January 1 - to try again.
I had a great year last year. I mean, I decided to throw myself into things that I would normally not do and be a better person than I was in 2009. The problem is that through it all, I had to deal with being human - the crankiness of menopause, the insecurity of being overweight and feeling my aches and pains, the moments where being critical and angry were easier than being sensitive and kind.
I was hoping that I would get it in order this year. Maybe if I change the outside, I can rid the inside of all the negativity and doubt.
So, this year, I will blog my weight loss program. I think I will start today by not dieting and exercising, but by getting a plan in order. I will follow my progress and not just hope for the best. I will skip cookies for apples, bread for rice cakes and ice cream for...well, let's not do it all at once. How about, ice cream for less ice cream? (yes, I think I will find joy in a single scoop for a while.)

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!!!

God is good...

For the last 6-8 weeks, I have been suffering from back pain. I wrote it off to catching a draft on my kidney area, or maybe having a kidney stone, or an infection or just being too old and too fat. Two weeks ago, I started preparing for Christmas and moved two rooms of furniture after which I was immobile for two days. That passed and became just a pain again by the next Friday. So... I cleaned my garage. I moved tables, 6 ses of golf clubs, toted a carload to Goodwill, put stuff on the racks over the garage area, some stuff in the basement and living room and just lifted, moved and stored for a few hours. By Saturday, I was on the heating pad, unable to move again, with spasms of pain in my lower back. I couldn't sleep as any movement forced me to wake up and reposition, trying to find a place of comfort. I refused to call a doctor since I was not eager to get treatment or face the reality that I could have been in real trouble. I sufferered through the pain and discomfort and then on Monday night, about 11:30 I rolled wrong and had pain like I had never felt before. I spent the next hour wondering how I could get out of bed to go to the emergency room without waking my family. And then I did something I haven't done in a long long time...I prayed for myself. I prayed for the end of pain, for the comfort of good health, for sleep. I prayed that God send His healing to me and me alone...yes, I acknowledged that there were people who were worse off than I was, but I selfishly prayed for ME! When the alarm went off at four I wondered how I would get out of the bed to turn it off, and I simply rolled over and reached out and ... no pain! I can't explain it. And because I can't explain it, I can say that by remembering where my healing would come from I was able to be healed. Now, I am still a little sore, but on Tuesday I put my socks on without falling over, got dressed without using Duke's "grabber" and was able to sit comfortably all day at work. A doctor might say that the bad roll restored my back to the proper position. A psychologist may say I had just been in the midst of a bout of hypochondria and self-absorbtion that ran its course in my fatigue. An atheist wouldn't say anything because they surely wouldn't have me for a friend after I spent the night in prayer.

But I say...GOD IS GREAT! Don't we know that all we ask for in His name will be given to us? So, till I write again, pray for each other, and please. pray for yourselves. Your needs will be met when your faith is expressed.

Merry Christmas

There! I said it! And guess what? If you answer, and Happy Hanukkah! or Joyous Kwanzaa! I will be respectful of your holiday, too.
Because I know you celebrate Hanukkah, I may wish you a Happy Hanukkah! I will not though automatically become Jewish, nor will I suddenly be an African American by acknowledging your celebration of Kwanzaa.
I just know that each of us celebrates our holidays in different ways and I want to recognize you as a person who respects his or her own beliefs, heritage and existance.
So if I do not say "Happy Holidays" it's because I would not feel right insulting you. Please do not insult me either.

Thanksgiving Prayer

I wish my house had a little more room, and the kitchen a few extra shelves.

But I know there are those who live in gloom, with cardboard to protect themselves…so I’m thankful.

Some days work's unrewarding and co-workers suck, and my salary’s less than I’m worth,

But I know of many, down on their luck, who’d take any job just to get work. …so I’m thankful.

I wish my old car was sporty and cool, leather inside would be nice,

But there are many who walk to work or to school, or bus when the sidewalk’s iced…so I’m thankful.

Last night I didn’t have time to cook so picked up chicken at KFC,

But some can hardly afford to look and end up at the Food Pantry…so I’m thankful.

I know all that I have is more than enough. I have God, church and family and friends.

I know my complaints of the things that are tough, will be meaningless when my life ends. …so I’m thankful.

Every November we gather with cheer, and say thanks for the life we are living.

I need more time than that, maybe all year, to repeat all the blessings I’m given. …so I’m thankful.
 
Happy Thanksgiving my friends. Margaret