Tag: humor

Christianity: My Journey & Thoughts, Ponderings

Reflections & Thoughts: Heaven, Hell and Which Tune to March To

Peregrine Arc: An Author's Scratchwork

I’ve never been a morning person–those who wake up with the sunrise and delight in singing chirpy, Julie Andrew tunes. I shuffle like a Resident Evil extra arriving late to set, put my shirt on backwards, and make my guardian angel file their retirement paperwork (yet again) as I navigate the stairs to find my way down to the kitchen. The law of gravity–such a pesky thing to watch out for.

How does one become a disciplined person? This is a journey I’ve been (lost and wandering) on for several years now. The saint often comments I’m one of the most disciplined persons he knows; however, I believe I can improve. And I want to. To stop growing is to become rootbound, and I wish to flourish.

A large swath of American society does not appear to appreciate quiet, introspective intelligent people–I’ll go further and add women to that descriptive, although I’m sure other genders experience this, too. Gentleness and meekness are seen as weaknesses, not strengths. Reflection and stillness are seen as adversaries to worshipping capitalism. “Return to work!” the conservatives cry to those not returning to the workforce. What they mean is “You’re worthless if you don’t become a slave for our kingdom.” This is one of their many lies.

I become very fatigued from listening to this, and similar verbiage from some conservative Americans–particularly those falsely calling themselves Christians. These chaos worshippers wave their banners of hypocrisy and eagerly run to support Trump and his growing bandwagon at the pulpit of the damned. These stirrings, and those who are zealous to join, are frightening. This is not of Christ; can you guess who it is from? I often comment to my husband that the last several years of recent history is like the separating of the sheep from the goats–people’s hearts are being revealed, and the sight is ugly and it is revolting.

I often wonder what Jesus would do, if he would return right at this moment. I think he would be incredibly furious, particularly at those who have the most power and resources and who used them for evil–especially evil done in his Father’s name. The Vatican, I believe, is extremely guilty of this and continues to blindly march into Hell–a theme I sometimes circle in my writing. If the old prophets returned today, what would they say? What would their faces look like? Only a perfect God can judge perfectly–but I feel many Christians have lost any fear (or love) of God.

I once saw a video of a woman, holding her baby, crawling on her knees across a courtyard outside of a church, crying out to God for mercy. I don’t know what her situation was, or what she was asking God for; I’m not sure it matters. Her humility and her rawness were apparent–it was not an act, as I’m not even sure she was aware of being filmed or photographed. The moment was her and Yahweh–herself and her God–coming together in honesty, truth and love.

“I have done wrong,” her face seemed to say. “Forgive me. Forgive me, and do not abandon me.”

As I work on becoming more disciplined, I think about such things, like software gently humming in the background of my mind. What tune do I choose to march to? Do I surrender myself daily to God, and ask Him for discernment and guidance–or do I allow myself to march to the easier tune of Hell, as I watch so many others march to the pied piper of propaganda and deliberate lies? Of control and ultimately death?

It’s a daily check; a discipline developed over time; a humility and wisdom I want and repeatedly ask for.

“Do not swerve to the right or to the left; keep your foot from evil.”

Amen, I say. Amen–let it be so.

Stopping By...

Silly Tales & Incidentals, Dah’ling: A Tale

Peregrine Arc: An Author's Scratchwork
  1. Left a candle burning. Overnight. Lived to tell the tale.
  2. Put the kettle on the stove to boil. Promptly forgot about said kettle. Once saintly husband found it, half the water had been boiled out.
  3. Smacked face into tree limb while on riding lawnmower.
  4. Had to explain to dentist at my appointment that the “tree limb incident” was perhaps the reason why I was having a little bleeding in my mouth. (Turns out I had probably brushed too hard. What can I say–dental hygiene for the win.)
  5. Did a crazy dance of “Get away from me, you murderous villain” whilst swinging my hat around in a parking lot as a huge bug divebombed me. Looked over at the car parked next to ours–definitely was occupied with a man, whom I’m sure enjoyed my impromptu ninja dance.
  6. Perfected my ninja dance of protection on second return to said store parking lot, using my hat as a swinging pendulum device while moving in a straight line, shuffling paranoidly to our vehicle. Science for the win.
  7. Ducked the low hanging tree branches successfully at the next time mowing to avoid getting hit in the face. Lost my hat this time instead to one particularly vindictive tree branch. Promised myself I would retrieve my hat after finishing my chore. Promptly forgot any such thing, leaving it to survive a night of terror in the wild yonder–alone, abandoned and forgotten. Neighbors pointed out my hat to my husband the next evening. Got said hat back. The hat and I may be attending counseling together.
  8. Was doing a landscaping project, and my shovel hit an area where it consistently just would not go through. Rock, I hear you say? Hard clay, yet another? It got personal quickly; the shovel and I had words. I told my shovel that it wasn’t very sharp; it said I was an empty toolshed with no bolts to spare. Turns out, there was a weed blocker fabric that had grass camouflaging it; the border of the bed had originally been farther out into the yard and had been overgrown. Well played, spade. Well played.

Just eight silly (and slightly foolish) things I’ve done lately. Hope you had a good laugh, or at least a smile or two. Leave your funnies in the comments and happy writing.

Christianity: My Journey & Thoughts

Seasons of Life: Walking with Dusty Sandals

Peregrine Arc: An Author's Scratchwork

I probably rolled my eyes the first time I heard ‘seasons of life’ from a fellow Christian. It sounded chintzy to me, like something you’d find engraved on a plaque mounted next to a Thomas Kinkade print. Can you picture it: a painting of a too-perfect gazebo surrounded by a pristine English garden? Maybe it even has a little painting light mounted above it, to better sear the saccharine display into your mind. It makes me want to pick up a charcoal pencil and sketch in a kraken devouring the flowers, shooting laser beams at the sky in wild, blissful rage. The raw sweetness is sickening.

It can be maddening when you’re waiting for something in your life to happen–a change you want to occur. This can happen in seasons of rest or reflection, or during those times when Dusty Sandals* is preparing you for what comes next. It’s a “Wait here and trust me” or “Walk with me and trust me” kind of thing. I’m not an expert at this, but I think this is how it works.

I’m in such a season currently. A foundation in my life recently changed, somewhat dramatically and suddenly. Like a chess game, I am trying to figure out which piece to move next. I made a couple of foolish moves in the beginning chaos, but am stepping back to take a look at the bigger picture. Dusty Sandals is ever understanding and sympathetic–He gave me my queen back. Then He asked if He could sit down and play.

I said sure, but I would get unlimited handicaps. He agreed. There may have been a chuckle while I prepped the popcorn bowl and drinks.

Whenever we’re uncertain, those who follow Dusty Sandals can (see: need to) remember that He is always present and ultimately in control–even in the midst of evil (see: war) or otherwise very bad situations. When we suffer, He is suffering with us; when we rejoice, He rejoices and joins us at the taco bar for seconds. Sometimes during these seasons of waiting, we need to get out of His way and let Him work; other times we need to sit down with Him and break out the chessboard and talk it through together. But just be reassured–He’s there and He’s not leaving you. He promised you that long ago.

I hope everyone is well. To any readers in India, my thoughts and prayers are with you especially as your country continues to suffer so much with the pandemic. Please do your best to take care of yourselves and each other.

Until then, happy writing.

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*Dusty Sandals: I refer to Jesus sometimes in my blogs as “the guy in the dusty sandals” or “the guy with the dusty sandals”. I shortened it this time to Dusty Sandals. I don’t think He would mind.