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Hmmm… Slow Boil

In the age of automatic coffee makers and K-cup brews, I am enjoying a vintage Pyrex glass percolator for my weekend pleasure. The flavor of my favorite grind tastes more intense making it so pleasing to the palate. 
Also pleasing, is watching the slow boil of water as it prepares to push itself through the center stem, splash against the lid then follow gravity through the grounds to a desired strength of brew. It is the adjustment of the burner that keeps the near boil under control in a peaceful flow producing a calm to the soul. Thinking on this process makes me realize a similar action occurs in people I know, even myself, but the result is not an appetizing one. 
Our emotions simmer below the surface and when unchecked explode negativity with sudden volatility over ourselves and anyone in close proximity. Yes, I know how difficult it is to respond verses react to situations. I, too, regret the times I allowed my reactions to splatter their unpleasant taste about. Yet, over time I’ve learned the more I reflect on who my God is and what I read in His word, the easier it is to be a responder. Maybe in time I can learn to give God all control to keep by emotions at a slow boil instead of a raging outburst.

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Hmmm… I Am a Woman

Today we hear much reporting about the women’s march on Washington. At the risk of showing my ignorance, I do not understand the agenda. According to their web site,

The Women’s March on Washington will send a bold message to our new government on their first day in office, and to the world that women’s rights are human rights.

Hmmm… I am a woman. I am a member of the human race and my rights as an American are covered by The Declaration of Independence, Constitution, and Bill of Rights.

Hmmm… Is fear the motivation behind this “movement”; fear Planned Parenthood will face defunding and Roe v Wade could be reversed.

Hmmm… I wonder if the 2017 March for Life event scheduled  next week press will receive as much press coverage as that of the protests over the last few weeks/months. Oh wait, so silly of me. I forgot. Life is considered disposable not valuable. Right? (Psalm 139:1-18)

An after-hmmm… The organization’s title, planned parenthood, is an oxymoron.

Hmmm… Weathered Skin, A Violin and Joy

Tucked away somewhere in our family home is a black and white sketch that frequents my subconscious. An elderly disheveled looking man with weathered face and hands contentedly draws the bow across the violin strings. My thoughts are not taken to where he might be standing or for whom he is playing, but the look of joy on his face as the voices of cords and wood filter into the air. That expression brings to mind a quote by Sarah Young from her devotional book, Jesus Calling,

When you let others’ expectations drive you, you scatter your energy to the winds.

This aged gentleman is not concerned about others’ enjoyment of his performance, but the pure pleasure of producing a joyful sound.

I must find this sketch for my office wall as a reminder that joy is found within oneself not from outside circumstances.

Hmmm… Moment of Clarity

Despite the ugliness of Alzheimer’s with its thievery, the soul of the person remains. Thankfully, God does not forget and knows we need those brief reminders, those moments of clarity that give us a snippet of respite from an otherwise devastating thief. (Isaiah 42:16, Isaiah 43:1-3)

And, the Trump-et Blows

We all know how sharing our political views in this forum, and similar, can produce explosive conversation, which is why I do not make it a habit of sharing mine. However, I do want to thank one of My Monkeys for sharing this article through email.

As I read this very interesting piece, I was reminded of my own comments during a recent conversation with family. I cannot understand the Trump-et’s want to be a presidential candidate. He is arrogant, bombastic, and does not possess the typical decorum we are accustomed. He is not afraid to speak his mind, does not care if people disagree with his opinions, and makes no apologies for them.

Do I think he will receive the nomination for his party? Time will answer that question. Yet, I believe his purpose is to bring forward the truth of each candidate, no matter his or her party affiliation.

My Monkey, I too, will keep listening as long as he continues to sound off along this line.

Hmmm… The Essence of Family

Iridescent glass, sparkling china and knickknacks, a drawer full of bread ties, kerosene lanterns, stove-pipe covers on display. The soft glow of converted gas lamps, clocks with silent faces staring back at you, a welcoming field stone fireplace, the creak of a staircase where each child learned to “alleybump”.  A gallery of family photos lining the walls waiting to tell the family history, the “circle” each child traveled on the first floor; all represent the unmistakable smell of stability, familiarity, and unselfish love. That is what envelopes me as I sit in the quietness of home; the house where our parents raised us and where our own children learned the essence of what it means to be family. (1 Corinthians 13:4-7, 1 Timothy 5:8, Proverbs 22:6)

Hmmm… Catching Up: Red Ferns

More thoughts written February 19th as our family sat at our Mother’s side while in hospital.

These days my thoughts often gravitate to the book, Where the Red Fern Grows, written by Wilson Rawls in 1961. This coming of age story first adapted to film in 1974 follows the adventures of a young boy and his two-coonhound pups who are inseparable and learn lessons of true friendship, loyalty, heroics, and integrity. In the book, we learn of an old Cherokee legend that tells of a sacred red fern that grows between their two graves that only an angel can plant. I can’t help but compare Mom and Dad to the two pups. After 66 years together, they follow the same journey to heaven in quick succession. Dad completed his journey last week, while Mom continues with hers today. Will a red fern grow between their two graves? Not sure if I believe the legend but the symbolism it holds is very powerful. We humans need something tangible when dealing with life’s tragedies. For the young boy grieving the loss of his beloved dogs, the red fern tells him he is not alone. We too are not alone as we face losing another pillar of our family. But, are we losing them or sending them forward to help prepare a better place for the rest of us? (John 14:1-3)