The Book of Job Can Be Read in Every Life

     Many times in life we encounter things that we do not understand.  Experiences that try our mental and emotional well-being are the most dramatic in our lives.  No one doubts God's plan when everything is wonderful--it is when we are slapped in the face with the dark reality of life that we may falter in our faith.  When we lose a loved one, or see someone close to us struggling against insurmountable and painful odds we tend to cry out in despair to God. We demand to know God's plan, or his reasons why we suffer.  Why do good people find themselves in bad situations, when so much evil is allowed to prosper in our world?
      The book of Job describes intimately the depth of suffering that could befall on a good and up righteous servant of God for no apparent reason.  Job is blameless, and good in God's eyes, but his friends do not understand the reason for God's neglect of Job.  Why does Job suffer, if not because he is wicked and sinful?  All they can do is console Job poorly by claiming that God only punishes the wicked and rewards the righteous.  "Think now, who that was innocent ever perished?  Or where were the upright cut off?" (Job 4:7)  I can think of many times, Eliphaz.  Recently our nation suffered through several occasions of heavy violence--the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary being one.  What wicked thing could those innocent children be blamed with?  The answer is that they were blameless, and yet they suffered, as well as their family.  Most of the time we tend to blame sinful events on the "bad" people.  However, we all sin--even with the example of Jesus to follow we tend to stray from the path of righteousness.  We are not blameless or as dedicated as Job in his faith.
     Yet, even though Job felt the walk he shared with God was good, and he had not erred in God's  commandments, his friends argued against his claims of blamelessness.  Sometimes our friends can also be an obstacle in our walk with God.  When we find ourselves in a difficult situation that we do not understand, our friends might try reasoning the circumstances.  "Have you been going to church enough?  You must not be praying enough.  If you REALLY believed in God's absolute power, he would heal you completely."
     I heard that last one when my kidneys failed, and it bothered me.  I know it was said by someone who was indeed faithful and most assuredly up right in the Lord, but it was still a sucker punch.  At the age of 36 my kidneys had failed me, and everyone wanted to know why it had happened.  What did I do to bring this trial on myself?  I must have done something terribly wrong in order for me to go into renal failure.  If I TRULY believed in the power of God I could be healed.  I don't agree with such simplistic logic.  God did heal me--He gave me something more valuable than a perfectly restored physical body.  He healed my fractured soul, and took away the bitterness that had been taking refuge in my heart.  Instead of looking at all that had been lost, I was given the gift of sight.  True love found me and extended to include my family.  I lost a son, but gained a beautiful, intelligent, and artistic miracle of a daughter.  My father passed away, and our loss was great.  But his gain was infinite--he was going to attain the wisdom that escapes us in our physical presence; the knowledge he sought his entire life.  My father also left with me some valuable traits--the love of history, especially that of our family, and a stubborn spirit to challenge whatever comes my way.  Sometimes being stubborn can be negative, but when applied in the positive it is precious.
     Job was stubborn--even his "wise" friends could not convince him that he was wicked, and therefore aptly punished.  "Of a truth, God will not do wickedly, and the Almighty will not pervert justice.(Job 34:12)  It is not until God answers Job with a series of questions that humbles Job as well as satisfies him as to the depth of God's omniscience and power.  "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?  Tell me, if you have understanding." (Job 38:4)  In the face of all that God has done and the responsibility of all living things and the environment Job realizes that he has no right to question the plans of God.
     Who am I then, to question the power and plan of God?  The terrible tragedies that we see in our lives, as well as the everyday struggles that we face cannot be made sense of.  How can anyone set the perimeters of God's intercession in all things?  God is in everything--the good and hopeful in our lives as well as the terrible and heart-breaking.  We must accept that God's plan for us is all-encompassing and interwoven with each other.  The choices that we make in our faith are the center of our relationship with God.  Choose to be bitter about the struggles in your life and you choose to step away from a loving relationship with God.  If we cling to God through both good and bad times in our lives, we are given the realization of a true and deep love that holds us up through all of the difficult times.
     God gave me such a gift when my kidneys failed my body.  He has shown me that with his strength and love I can fight the good fight.  I can thank him for the joys that bring me internal peace--the love of my family and friends, the fellowship of my family in faith, and the stress-relieving ability to push my physical body to become stronger every day I am given.  Every breath I take each day is a blessing and a chance to gain a more personal relationship with my Savior each day.  The knowledge of the depth of God's love is incomprehensible, but what part I can understand will carry me through all the days of my life.

I pray that according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be
strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ
may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.
I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the
breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpassesknowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:16-20)

Fumes of Freedom: Part Two

     Dan shifted uncomfortably, holding his fingers to the eye Jenny had directed her hit towards.  "It's your fault.  I wouldn't have done it if you had fixed a decent supper."  His voice took on a belligerent tone.
     Jenny silently walked to the garage and gently laid little Lucky inside of her dad's old car.  She drove off, ignoring Dan's angry shout.  The veterinarian's office wasn't far away, yet she sped through the few stop signs that obstructed her momentum.  Luckily for her, Airedale police hardly ever patrolled the back roads.
      When she arrived, the vet was just about to leave.  She hailed him quickly and showed him Lucky's knife wound, and the knife laying on the plastic car mat where she had placed it.
      "It's a good thing you caught me when you did, Jen.  I was just about to go home."  He smiled kindly and gathered Lucky in his arms.  "Let's take care of the little pup."
     The waiting room was empty and the vet offered her a seat.  He had known Jenny ever since she had gotten Lucky as a puppy, and he knew a little about her home life.
     "This is going to take a while."  He shook his head sadly.  "Was it that louse, Dan?"
     "Yes," Jenny replied woodenly.  "He was drunk and he got mad about me not fixing him a decent supper."
     "I'll get to Lucky now.  After we patch him up, you and me will call the police."
     Jenny nodded quietly and collapsed into a chair.  All she could think about was the hatred she felt for Dan.  Too long had she stood under his oppression.  Finally she had the courage and the strength to do something about it.  It was finally time.  She walked to the bathroom and opened the window.  After flushing the toilet, she squeezed out of it and ran to the car.
     Once there she realized that the distance between the clinic and her house wasn't that far.  She could quickly run that distance easily.  The cold air bit her nose and tears ran down her face as the air stung her eyes.  By keeping a steady pace and running through pastures, she arrived at her house in all of ten minutes.
     When she entered the garage she noticed Dan's diesel truck was still there.  She smiled as a plan began to form in her mind.  The garage didn't have any windows and was completely void of junk because there was no room with three vehicles that were usually parked inside.  A perfect chamber for her plan.
      Jenny pulled on her brown leather gloves and crawled into her truck.  Dan had been foolish enough to leave his keys in the ignition.  She turned the key, bringing the engine to life.  After she carefully slipped out, she locked both doors and slammed them shut.  There was no way he was getting into the truck.
     Dan weaved into the doorway that joined the garage to the house.   "Wh-what the heck are you doing?" He mumbled in a disjointed effort to get his words out.
     "I told you to leave when you had the chance.  Now you're gonna be mighty sorry you didn't take my advice."  Jenny smiled wickedly as she eyed Dan's inebriated condition.  He was going to make it so easy for her.  So very easy.
     Dan stumbled down the steps, barely keeping himself upright.  "What are you going to do, Stupid? You can't do anything to me!"
     Jenny put both hands on his chest and shoved him as hard as she could.  He flew backwards into the truck and slid to the floor.  He smiled and muttered, "Yeah, you are stupid," before he passed out.  She smiled and looked down at his unconscious form.  "I'm not exactly the stupid girl you thought I was."  She locked the adjoining door to the house from the inside of the garage as she left.  Already poisonous carbon monoxide filled the garage in a choking cloud.
     "Happy Birthday, Dan," she laughed with an evil grin stretched from ear to ear.
     She took off back to the veterinarian clinic using her short cut and crawled back into the bathroom window.  Blowing her nose, she rubbed her eyes until they were red and swollen.
     Leaving the bathroom, she picked up a magazine and plopped down into a chair.  The vet smiled as he entered the waiting room.
     "Your little dog is going to be all right.  He'll have to stay overnight for observation; nevertheless, he's doing great."
     Jenny gave a relieved smile and hugged the magazine close to her, picturing her little friend safe and sound.   "Thank you!  I really appreciate you taking care of him even after closing time."
     "Jenny, I've known you since you were five.  Don't worry about it.  If you want, you can wait until Lucky comes out of the anesthesia, and then we'll contact the police."
     Jenny jumped up and hugged him, and ran into the small operating room.  Lucky lay still, a bare shaved spot with ugly black stitches marking his wound.  Her heart leaped in fear when he showed no sign of movement.  But then a small stub tail began to wiggle, and Jenny kissed the small black nose.   "Don't worry, honey.  Everything is going to be fine."  She gently massaged his fuzzy muzzle, and kissed him once again.  "I have to go home now, sweetie.  I'll be back tomorrow and then we'll both go home."  Lucky whined his understanding and Jenny returned to the waiting room.
     The veterinarian made the call to the police and Jenny went to the police station to file a report. When she finally left, she had established an iron-clad alibi and couldn't stop smiling.  She couldn't wait to formally hear of Dan's passing.
     The police escorted Jenny to her house in order to question and arrest Dan.  Jenny waled into the house and led the police to the living room.  She noticed the police looking at the piles of beer cans.
     "Dan! Where are you?" She called out, keeping back the smile that wanted to appear.  She knew where Dan was.
      "Miss, maybe he left.  What kind of vehicle does he drive?"  One of the policemen inquired gently.
     "It's a brown junky Ford diesel.  But he was totally smashed and I don't know if he could handle driving."  Jenny tried to look concerned.
     "Well, let's take a look at the garage," suggested another police officer.  "Maybe he's there."
     Jenny nodded and led the way to the garage.  When the officers tried to open the door they found it was locked.  Confusion was etched on Jenny's face.  "I don't understand.  This door is never locked.  We usually keep the outside garage door locked.  Never this one."
     The officer looked at each other and nodded their heads in a silent code of agreement.  "Maybe it's best you stay here, Miss.  We don't know what we'll find in there."
     A look of fear crossed her features.  "What do you mean?  Do you think--?"
     One officer gently guided her aside.  "We're going to break down the door.  You need to stand back."
     Jenny stepped back as meekly as she could, looking horrified that the mere situation the officers were insinuating could happen.
     "Poor girl," whispered one young officer.  "I'm going to hate to break this to her if we find what I think we're going to find."
     The door flung open as the officers kicked it in.  Instantly the exhaust filled the entry way, causing the officers and Jenny to gasp for air.  One of the officers ran into the garage and broke the truck window to turn the diesel off, while the other one opened the garage door with the wall remote.  The older officer bent over Dan and shook his head wearily.
     "He's gone."
    Jenny screamed and ran into the living room where she sank to her knees and shook violently.  The young officer draped a lap quilt over her shoulders and tried to comfort her.  If only they realized, Jenny thought to herself.  She couldn't stop shaking as excitement flowed through her body.  The officer who comforted her was really handsome and she enjoyed the close proximity they shared.
     "Apparent suicide.  He was so drunk that he probably went through some alcohol-fuelled depression.  It looks as if he locked the doors of the truck and garage so it would be hard for any one to stop him."  They turned to Jenny.  "We called your Mom at her workplace.  When she gets home, tell her we need her to fill out some paper work."
     "Yes, sir," she whispered, as if in shock.
     After the policemen and coroner left, Jenny went into the kitchen and sat down.  When her mother came in the door she calmly told her the news.
     Her mother sat still for a while.  "It's about time.  What took you so long?"
      Jenny frowned. "I didn't marry the loser.  You were supposed to handle him.  He tried to kill my dog. Actually, it was perfect timing...an appropriate birthday gift."
     They grinned at each other and her mother smiled.  "For once you did something right. What are you going to do now?"
     Jenny grinned slyly.  "I figure I have some overdue shopping to work on."
     Agnes snickered quietly.  "Yeah, now you can stop being a good little girl in jumpers and I can start spending the louse's inheritance."
     "Who would have thought lazy old Dan could be worth so much money?"  They both giggled and went into the living room to watch the late movie, singing "Happy Birthday" all the way.

                                                           THE END

(By the way, I think this was a creative writing assignment and I was trying to explore the vengeance concept.  I do not approve of any kind of violence or murder.  I'm really a sweetie with a devilish imagination.)

Fumes of Freedom: Part One

     Life isn't fair.  At least that's what Jenny's mother always told her.  How far in the world you go depends on looks.  Another jewel of her mother's wisdom.  And Jenny was not beautiful, according to her stepfather.  Jenny would have to depend on intelligence to take her places, if only those places were the local McDonalds.
      Jenny Sue Prest had a thick mane of red gold hair and large brown eyes.  Her face was a heart-shaped oval, reminiscent of an old-fashioned valentine.  A generous mouth that occasionally gave in to a shy smile hid straight, shiny teeth.  Her snub nose gave her the look of a tomboy, giving a hint of the boyish fun she enjoyed.  She usually wore her long hair back in a pony tail, because that was simple and McDonalds' regulation for all of their employees.  Jenny hated the greasy smell that never seemed to leave her hair and clothes.  Nauseating customers with grimy hands and unkempt hair would leer at her and make disgusting comments.  Jenny shrugged her feelings of misery off.  She knew better days were coming--very soon.
   Fuzzy, black and white memories haunted Jenny.  Memories of a time when she had been ecstatically happy.  The time when her father had been alive.
     He had been nearly seven feet tall or so it seemed, with a booming laugh that was contagious.  At bedtime, he was the perfect narrator for "The Three Little Bears."  He had a growly voice that made her want to check under the bed to make sure those big, mean bears weren't lurking there.  Puppy dogs and little girls were among his favorite things and Jenny felt most loved when he was nearby.  She received her last gift from him on her fifth birthday.  That gift became her comfort and confidante when her father died.  The small Welsh Corgi was a lively, happy dog and knew exactly what to do to cheer Jenny up.  Wherever Jenny went, little Lucky was sure to follow and protect her from all of the world's beastly dangers.  Jenny thanked God every day for Lucky.  He was her light in this dark tunnel she called life.
     Not long after her father died, her mother remarried.  The man she married was a bitter man who enjoyed picking fights with Jenny.  He was lazy, and regularly lost jobs that took months to obtain.  Jenny and her mother were the only ones who had a steady income in their family, and could honestly claim him as a dependent.  He loved the fact that the women provided for his lifestyle.  Dan O'Kelley was his name and he did not inherit the hard-working nature of the ancestors who had left him a large monetary inheritance.  He felt he should not have to work since he would be a millionaire at the age of 40.  At the age of 39 he was growing more and more cocky...as if he had something to act cocky about.  His hair was a matted and dingy brown with a matching limp mustache.  Ignorance could be glimpsed in his dirt-colored eyes and was reinforced by the fact that he was nearly illiterate.  His lanky build gave the impression of a natural athlete; even though he was incredibly out of shape.  And his favorite hobby was telling Jenny how ignorant she was and that she didn't have a future.
     Jenny listened to all of it.  Her mother never defended her.  No, Agnes felt that she should not go against the tide.  Dan was the one person she did not want to anger and so she left Jenny to fend for herself.  Agnes also chose Jenny's entire wardrobe.  Stuffy blouses with long sleeves and frills along with little girl jumpers filled her closet.  Jenny longed to wear jeans like the other teenage girls at school, but her mother flatly refused.  No wonder Jenny was a shy introvert at school.  She never felt good about herself and worked hard at getting good grades.  In her mind the only way to achieve respect, love, and acceptance was to earn straight A's.
     She even sought a part-time job and was hired at a local McDonalds.  The pay was lousy, the customers were rude, and the managers were bossy and obnoxious.  But Jenny was happy about one thing--she had to wear slacks at the job and her mother allowed her to on the condition that Jenny would wear pants only to work.
     Jenny longed for something; something unattainable and out of reach.  She longed for recognition of herself as a person.
      Lucky knew one secret about Jenny that no one else knew.  Because she was allowed her own small income, she could afford to take lessons secretly--in kickboxing.  She enjoyed venting her frustrations on the defenseless bag.  It kept her in good shape and made her a formidable opponent if angered.  If she felt stress, all she had to do was picture Dan's face on the bags and she was unstoppable.
      *                                *                             *                                    *                      *
     "What did you today, Retard?" Dan sneered at her, crumpling his empty beer can with one hand.  "Probably spent the whole day trying to figure out the answer to 2 + 2!" He burst out in ignorant laughter.
     No, Dan, you've mistaken me for yourself again, Jenny thought.  She didn't dare let the treacherous words escape her mouth.  She didn't want to push her luck.
     She hurried into her room and changed her clothes.  Lucky wiggled and jumped with the pleasure of being with his master.  She switched on her radio and pulled out her checkbook.  Another well-kept secret.  Her hard-earned money was put into a checking account and was scarcely used.  Three years of suffering at McDonalds had brought her close to $23,000.  Jenny sighed longingly.  She would love to be able to spend a little of it on herself. Putting her checkbook back into her worn purse, she laughed as Lucky brought a small rubber ball to play fetch with.  His little stub tail twitched with delight as she picked the ball up and grabbed her jacket.  She opened her low window and squirmed out.  Lucky eagerly joined her outside in a small bound.  Jenny didn't want to have to go past Dan in his ragged armchair with a pile of empty beer cans forming a gigantic mound.  In a drunken stupor Dan felt even more feisty than usual and didn't hesitate to swing at anyone who passed by.
     The sun was setting and a cool breeze nipped her nose and cheeks, making them red as ripe cherries.  Lucky twisted and leaped as she threw the ball about in their large yard.  Jenny loved their home.  The yard was spacious with flower beds for borders.  They lived outside of Airedale, Kansas, in the country.  Airedale was a moderately-sized town and had the usual entertainment centers.  It had a movie theater that looked grimy and in need of repair in the full lighting.  The movies would skip and black out in an irritating fashion but in the end the theater employees would manage to patch the equipment up enough to make it through yet another movie.  At night the town looked even larger from her house because the thousands of lights twinkled about, giving the impression of a large city.
     The wind blew a large pile of stiff brown leaves to her feet, bringing Jenny out of her reverie.  She kicked the small pile and enjoyed the crackling sound as she destroyed the leaves.  Lucky ran about, sniffing tree trunks and leaving various territorial claims.   Jenny couldn't blame him.  Wild animals such as skunks and possums were always venturing onto their yard.
     "Come on, Lucky, we better go in before Dan finds out we've been having some fun."  Jenny walked slowly to her window and crawled through with a heavy heart.  Lucky leaped in, and promptly curled up on her bed.  His short yip told her that he didn't mind coming back if it meant the comfort of her bed.
     "Jenny!  Get in here and start fixing supper!" Dan's voice rang out in loud, slurred tones.
    Jenny shuffled into the kitchen and felt a sudden wave of resentment.  Why should he get to sit around all day and make every one else work?  Her mother wouldn't get home from work until 2 am and Jenny was the only one who could fix supper.
     Tonight Jenny was tired, and when she felt sick and tired she felt rebellious.  She pulled out lunch meat, mayonnaise, and a loaf of bread out of the refrigerator and set them on the kitchen counter.  She grabbed herself a plate and fixed herself a sandwich and a glass of milk.  Walking into the living room, she turned to Dan.
     "I'm tired.  If you want supper, go into the kitchen and fix yourself a sandwich.  There are Cheetos in the cabinet, and if you don't like that idea, order take-out."  With that she turned to go into her room, locking the door behind her.  When Dan began to bellow, she merely turned up her radio.  Lucky settled down to sharing Jenny's sandwich.
      After she finished, she traipsed into the kitchen to put up her dishes.  Lucky followed her, scavenging for scraps of food.  As she cleaned the kitchen she realized Dan was standing in the door way.  Gripped tightly in his hand was as razor-sharp butcher knife, its silver edge gleaming.
      "No one disobeys me and gets away with it."  He flung the knife into Lucky's side and with a yelp, Lucky fell to the floor.
     Instantly Jenny delivered a blow to Dan's face.  While he was reeling from her hit, Jenny scooped Lucky into her arms and walked to the door.  Turning, she looked back at Dan.
     "If you're smart, you won't be here when I get back."  Her voice was hollow and icy, and her gaze was as polar as the glaciers of Antarctica.

Healthy Eating=Stressful Living!!!

   Don't get me wrong folks, I'm big on eating in a healthy manner.  In fact, in order to help Mom with her goal of losing weight, I joined her in the weight loss battle and geared the whole household into the South Beach Diet/Food plan.  My daughter, who already loves her vegetables, has pretty much gone with the flow with very few complaints.  My mother and I are ecstatic about not feeling any desire whatsoever to snack anymore, and have cut back on our portions dramatically.  My mother and I have both lost a good deal of weight--my mom has lost twice what I have lost--and we are thrilled about living a more healthy food style since my family has heart disease, diabetes, and high blood pressure just waiting in the wings.

   So what is the issue, you ask?  The one person I didn't mention as being ecstatic would be my husband.  He first laughed at what seemed to be yet another one of my "crazy diet schemes."  Then, as the junk food and highly concentrated sugar products disappeared from the house, never reappearing, he began to worry.  I have to admit, our poor diet was definitely to be blamed on me.  I love to cook, and it's something that makes me happy.  I love to bake sweet treats, homemade breads (especially homemade rolls that melt in your mouth), and just about anything that tops the carbohydrate charts.  I used to make a mean cheesecake, the kind that takes a day and a half to complete, rich and creamy and so very sinful to ingest.

   It was with one of those cheesecakes that I lured my husband in.  He had very sweetly bought me roses and brought them to my workplace for me.  (Ahhh, so romantic! Those were the days.)  I countered with a turtle cheesecake--even though I used half the sugar and fat free cream cheese, and sugar free cookies for the crust, I knew it was not healthy. But hey, isn't the way to a man's heart through his stomach??? What soon followed as we got to know each other better were homemade meals that he looked forward to, especially our homemade biscuits and sausage gravy.  And I have now made it all go away--or at least most of it.  

   I have decided to take my love of cooking and valiantly attempt to make the healthy components of our diet into tasty treats that my family would enjoy sharing in.  Tonight I made a Chicken Barbecue Pizza.  I incorporated some wheat flour into the crust, and it was still light and fluffy and went well with the barbecued chicken.  What did my husband do? He ate the topping off the crust.  Just scraped my topping off and refused to eat any more than a small tidbit of crust.  And he was FURIOUS that I messed with the pizza crust.  Okay, maybe not furious about the crust, but more like furious about the whole food direction I have taken this family.  He even went as far as to tell me that my food tasted like $%!@!  

   And that, my friends, is where the proverbial $%!@ hit the fan.  I understand taking away sweet and salty foods can be irritating, if somewhat disheartening, but insulting the food that I put together in between taking care of my husband's requests was the last straw.  I shouldn't have, but I blasted him with both barrels of indignation and hurt. I could see that he hadn't expected his comment to enrage me as well as it did, but I couldn't pull back.  I had run 4 miles this morning, did some killer ab exercises in order to dissipate the overwhelming stress that was beginning to build, and with that one little snide comment I was back under the waves of stress.  

   I did walk away, took some calming breaths, and took the time to watch Julia Roberts blast away her crazy abusive husband in "Sleeping With the Enemy." I have to admit, my husband wasn't happy that watching the end of the movie calmed me down. For obvious reasons.  But I realized something about our relationship--we are going to have a few spats, and we do not always agree about everything (especially food and what is healthy), but we can come together and laugh it off.  I am hopeful that healthy eating doesn't have to equal heavy stress levels.  After laughing and getting back to a more proper frame of mind we really discussed his issues with some of the components of the diet and we compromised.  I sometimes have to step back and look at my place in the situation--am I trying to control too much? Shouldn't everyone have a say?  

   I watched my dad fight my mom about food and portion sizes when he was diagnosed with diabetes.  My mom gave up, because my dad wasn't willing to compromise on the required diet.  Then with congestive heart failure there is another diet, and yet another diet with kidney disease/dialysis, the cardiac and renal diets in direct conflict.  My father had the roughest time of eating appropriately for his ailments, and I guess it never came to "I don't want to do this diet!" when I myself was placed on dialysis because of renal failure.  I always wondered if Dad might have been healthier if he had followed the diet that he should have and it makes me incredibly pushy in the food arena.  So here's the dilemma--to eat healthy or not to push it on the ones I love? How do I balance healthy living with everyone that doesn't lead to STRESS? If anyone has an idea, I am definitely game.  Food should be a way of fueling our bodies, not fueling battles!

Trials and Tribulations and Just Day by Day

   Lately I have been frustrated...the everyday stuff that just blasts through our awareness accompanied with a helpless anger and frustration.  About a month ago our water pipe just blew out--the age of it just couldn't contain it any longer, and it happened to blow on the day that I had gone to treatment (dialysis) and was coming home to help Mom make cornbread for for a water meeting our United Methodist Women was serving.  I was FURIOUS, and had a breakdown of sorts, was pretty much worthless.  Later, after I calmed down, I realized that it was a blessing that the pipe hadn't broke down in the middle of the freezing winter, it happened on some beautiful weather, and Gary's brother fixed it for us.  But that's generally what happens--the car breaks down, a mower burns up, bills come in the mail that are sickening and yet we see the good in each day.  Practicing with our daughter for softball, sharing in the beauty of the outdoors, and laughing together at the humorous side of life.  I continue to look to the positive.
   Take for example what happened the last of April in my family...my husband and I had practiced throwing the softball around with our daughter, and as it was on the day of my treatment I tired easily.  I was upstairs scrolling through Facebook when Gary came upstairs looking for a gun.  Snowden had been hunting for kittens in a ramshackle shed full of boxes of jars for canning and other junk when she found a skunk.  Luckily she wasn't sprayed, but we were concerned just the same. And my husband being the man that he is, settled on the AK74 since he hadn't shot it in a while.  I continued to play on my computer and when I heard one single shot; I was impressed that the skunk had been defeated without a hail of bullets.  Moments later my daughter came running up the stairs sobbing that "Daddy shot himself!"  After my disbelief wore off, my heart thudded in fear as I raced down the stairs looking for shoes, my throat dry and my eyes unable to focus.  When I made it out to Gary he was lying on his side, with blood all over his legs and feet.  Thankfully it wasn't a lot of blood, and he hadn't hit a major artery.  But the bone was poking out of his knee, and I knew in a heart-sinking instant that this indeed was bad. Running to get a towel to wrap around his knee I was lost, and I had no idea what to do for him. I was in shock, but I couldn't help but thank God that it was his leg, that he was still breathing and much calmer than anyone else.  The safety had been on until he reached the shed, and it wasn't until he leaned forward to look for the skunk when the gun went off without warning.  The shoulder strap most likely brushed the trigger somehow, since his finger wasn't near the trigger, and he was as surprised as Mom and Snowden were.  I thank God that Gary was so calm and steady, because it helped me to talk to the 911 dispatcher in a calm and steady manner.
   Three surgeries later, and two treatments at the dialysis center in Parsons while I stay with Gary has made me realize how truly blessed I am.  I still have my husband, whom I love more than the air I breathe, and my daughter and mother is safe as well.  Our family, church, and friend family have kept us supported in prayers and I truly feel the benefit of so many beautiful souls praying for us.  We are all faced with difficulties, some irritating and frustrating, but when faced with major difficulties we can see the gifts in life that we are given.  Gary has an amazing surgeon who managed to pin everything perfectly and save the knee joint, even if the knee cap was obliterated.  And with effort and healing, Gary will be able to put weight on his leg and walk on it.  I have faced so many fears this week, and have wanted to cry at times when Gary has faced so much pain and difficulty, but I have felt the support of so many friends, family, and professionals that I can only be optimistic of the future with Gary.  God is with us, God will continue to be with us, and as long as we look to Him for answers, we will always feel His encouragement and strength.

Which way comes...witchy or wicked?

   I've been delving into my Bible for Lent and daily devotions as well, and I have found that my new Bible is a NSRV version, which makes the reading so much more enjoyable than my Holy Bible, or the standard King James Versions that I grew up with.  And I love the fact that the History channel started airing stories that I have touched upon while starting my devotionals, and they are great, except they have taken artistic flairs which kind of irritates me since it deviates from the more interesting biblical narratives.  But to get to my actual theme, I found myself questioning the whole witchcraft and magical theory and wanted to get a "biblical" take on it.

   I love watching "Celebrity Ghost Stories," "Haunted Collector," and sometimes "The Haunted."  My husband believes I have a morbid obsession with the afterlife.  I admit I am most curious about the afterlife, because I have experienced some odd things in my life, that really can't be explained.  I do believe in ghosts, and I think there are people out there that can sense and possibly comprehend such oddities that most people shrug off.  However, what does the Bible say about such things? Am I sinning by believing such things? Are people sinning against God when they go out of their way to contact the spirits of loved ones or anyone in the beyond?

   I have friends in my past who also enjoy dabbling with witchcraft.  Nothing dark or dangerous...more like earth-loving free spirited hippies, and I have to laugh at any idea that they would be dark and sinister. I loved every single Harry Potter book and movie, and although I like to entertain myself with the witchcraft stories, I don't believe in the serious practice. I know that I have caught specific verses that go against ANY kind of witchcraft in the Bible.  Leviticus 19:27 is pretty damning as it proclaims "A man or a woman who is a medium or a wizard shall be put to death; they shall be stoned to death, their blood is upon them."  Seems to be pretty stiff punishment for simply contacting the dead or attempting to celebrate the power of the earth.  Deuteronomy 18: 10-11 "No one shall be found among you who makes a son or daughter pass through fire, or who practices divination, or is a soothsayer, or an auger, or a sorcerer, or one who casts spells, or who consults ghosts or spirits, or who seeks oracles from the dead."  That pretty much makes my interest in the other world a damning one, not to mention my love of Harry Potter.  Why such a vengeful approach to something that seems to be harmless?

   In Exodus 7:  11-12, 22; 8: 7, 18-19; 9: 11, Moses and Aaron use God's power to perform all kinds of signs to prove to Pharaoh the power of God.  In the first few demonstrations, Pharaoh's magicians were able to perform the same feats.  Yet when the signs became more powerful, Pharaoh's magicians couldn't compete.  So if even Egypt's elite couldn't exhibit the same powers as God were they even a threat?

   What of visions and prophecies, such as the doomsday prophecy that the world would end in December 2012?  Or similar doomsday prophecies? Sirach 34: 4-7 claims that dreams mean nothing unless they are given by God.  "Unless they are sent by intervention from the Most High, pay no attention to them.  For dreams have deceived many, and those who put their hope in them have perished" Sirach 34: 6-7.  How am I supposed to know what visions come from God?  If the History Channel is correct, the Aztecs and the Hopis didn't worship God Almighty, but aliens from outer space.  So I guess those prophecies are out for me.

  The Bible does not say that all people who are mediums, sorcerers, or oracles are all phonies.  In fact it seems to be quite the opposite.  The various authors in the Old Testament warn explicitly against seeking counsel with such people.  Why?  Through reading throughout the scripture I can hazard a simple guess--if the counsel we seek does not come through God, our Father, then whom does it come from? Is it the dark one, the Father of Lies, Satan? Or does it come from the darkest desires of our human hearts? "From an unclean thing what can be clean? And from something false what can be true?" (Sirach 34:4) Most people want an oracle to give them worldly advice--when will I find my true love?  Will I become rich? Famous?  So many things we desire to know, and they center around the singular self, a selfish concern.  If there is one thing that God and Jesus let us know is that we are put on this earth to rejoice in and worship our God.  He gave us our life, our freedom to choose our paths, and the joy of knowing him personally.  In the New Testament I could not find anything that focused on the occult, and if Jesus had personally changed the rules.  But I did find that Jesus wanted our focus to be on our neighbors--what can we do to make life better for our fellow man?  Not what can I do to make my life reach it's fullest potential in either fame, money, or worldly possessions.  I think that God's biggest issue with the magical element people sought is that it put a wedge in between God and his people.  He wants us to go to him with our problems, to seek a close relationship with Him, and not be led down false paths that pander to our single minded selfishness.  Everyone has heard the commandment, "Thou shalt have no other gods before Me."  When we turn from God, and seek knowledge from someone or something else, we have inadvertently put something else in a higher position than God, which is unacceptable.  Does it require stoning or death? Not in any way, since as Christians, we are not to judge other people for who they are.  I firmly believe that we are expected to reject the practices that would detract from our close relationship to God, and witness our loving relationship with God to those who wish to know.  However, will I stand upon a soapbox and point an accusing finger at those who do not follow in my faith and religious beliefs? Certainly not.  God gives everyone the freedom to choose Him or another path if they so choose.  While I will not judge the person, I may judge for myself the practice and refrain from placing myself in the company of those who seek a different path. 

   And in closing with that feeling, I have to believe that though I find the idea of spirits and hauntings interesting, I will not let it in between me and God.  If a message came to me from the "great beyond" it would be thrilling, but not something that I would base my decisions on.  For the important choices in my life are to be chosen from the words of wisdom, and from within my heart and consciousness that God has given me.  Each to his own, and I choose God.

Queen Vashti Rocks!

  Today I felt like reading about major female figures in the Bible, and since the book of Esther is "jacked up" as far as numerical order in my bible, I thought I could try to read and understand it.  Some parts of the Bible bother me, and there were a few verses in Esther that definitely bothered me.

  For anyone who is familiar with the story of Esther, the story seems to weave romance, suspense, and vindication all into a beautiful story of God's people.  The Jewish people face annihilation, only to have their fate held in the faithful hands of Esther.  As a woman, Esther holds so much power, more power than is generally attributed to a woman.  But she has to be sneaky about it.

  The entire reason that Esther is even in the position of Queen to King Ahasuerus is that Queen Vashti, the original wife/queen, was deposed because of her pride.  And I can't blame her one bit...

  Imagine it--you are a beautiful and desirable woman, who happens to be a queen to a king who is powerful and rich.  Your husband loves to throw lavish parties to show off all of his riches to all of his big-shot and important friends, where they get drunk and stupid.  The trade-off is that you are rich and you can wear beautiful clothes and jewelry, and enjoy your own parties with your friends. There is just one drawback--you are also property--like the finest linen, expensive jewelry, you are simply an adornment.  And when your husband is feeling especially good and ostentatious, you have to go and parade around in front of his drooling, drunk friends.  And as property you have no rights, the King will take "no refusal."  When Queen Vashti refused to be sent for as a party favor, a base form of amusement for a bunch of inebriated idiots, I fist-pumped and hooted "You rock, Queen Vashti! Don't let a man treat you like a possession!  You are more than a beauty contestant." 

  However, I would be banished right there with Vashti.  The King and his officials were  angry with her refusal to obey the King's command, and were even afraid that she would become a model to their wives and the wives of men all over, powerful and impoverished.  If she wasn't made into an example, women all over might decide to think for themselves and refuse to obey their husbands' commands.  Women were only allowed to be objects of beauty, bear their husband his line of heirs, and obey his commands.

  Apparently in the Old Testament, that is exactly the position of a woman in biblical times.  Some of the women did take their surrounding situations into their own hands and changed the history of their people.  Judith used her beauty to enamor the commander of King Nebuchadnezzar, Holofernes, and by cutting off his head she thwarts the destruction of the Jewish people.  Delilah used her beauty and excessive nagging to learn Samson's secret and handed him over to the Philistines, contributing to his eventual destruction.  Not only are these women beautiful to behold, but the true "great" women were also submissive, wise--as in the art of supplicating to a man--and faithful.  Ruth was loyal to her mother-in-law and accompanied her to a foreign land and followed her instructions to the letter.  Instructions that had her lay at the feet of Boaz on the threshing floor, which if caught, she would be assumed as his "evening entertainment" and her value subsequently ruined. Queen Vashti might have had trouble with resigning herself to behaving as a man's plaything. Perhaps she was one of the original feminists, or maybe she was just fed up with the drunken demands of her husband.  Whatever her reasons, I found that I identified with her more than Esther.  

  Esther used her beauty, and her genteel manner to catch the attention of the king.  Not only did she catch the eye of King Ahasuerus, but she also found favor with the King's eunuch who was in charge of his harem.  She was a model example of a woman--beautiful, dainty (she fainted when she first approaches the King and he falls all over her in concern), and proper, knowing when to approach her king, and when to be quietly invisible.  She believed in God, and put her faith and love of her people ahead of her own life.  Esther, the perfect queen, used her intelligence to trick her enemy, Haman, and saved her beloved Jewish people from annhilation. She was simply perfect.

  Sometimes women aren't perfect.  Most of the time we're like Queen Vashti and want to be our own person, not someone else's property.  It's great to feel loved and valued, but more so for our inner self. Ideal beauty and the readiness to submit to a masculine culture should not be the scale in which we assess our value.  It is not wrong to want to be desirable, or clever, or faithful to those who are worthy of such loyalty.  It is wrong to hide your true potential underneath an empty facade of inequality.  I love my husband, and we share mutual respect, but I am not his property.  I am his partner, and I have my own opinion, and unfortunately for those around me, I express it readily and often.  I will not be silenced if I feel that what I must say is true or important, and I hope God feels that he can use me just as readily as he has used Ruth, Esther, and Judith , and so many important women in the bible.  I just hope he lets me do it with my own twist.  I WANT TO ROCK!