Welcome Autumn

Unbelievable. Another season has arrived in Texas. And it is an unusual autumn for us - -  dull, brown, and dried up.

Thankfully, my world is made so small and I'm brought into reality by my blogging friends who are amazing.

          Dawn posted about devastating floods from Pennsylvania where she volunteered with the Red Cross and shared God’s love.

          Beth posted from here in our hometown about rushing to Bastrop, Texas to help victims of raging fires there. And, withOUT her permission, I quote Beth’s closing statement in her amazing post of September 13: The effects of this fire will be long-lasting and long felt. I am so sorry for the lives lost. I am so thankful that a community of people in the midst of a huge tragedy can be the hands and feet of God.

          Both the floods ‘up north’ and the fires ‘down the road’ were no respecter of persons and angrily consumed homes, some lives, and memories and refrigerators and photographs and livelihoods.

          Ohio, Missouri, New York, and Pennsylvania pray that the rain will cease, for a while.

          All of Texas prays for rain to fall to feed and bless and protect our land.

And there I was, spending most of the summer complaining—loudly at home and widely on blogs—just because I was temporarily sick.

Forgive me, Holy Father; forgive me friends and neighbors who have lost everything.

Megan at Sabbath Says reminded me, so today, I went back to my already worn out copy of Ann Voskamp’s A Thousand Gifts and began recounting my own blessings. Makes me ‘shamed to have complained.

          I left off around July 20^th with something about: My office is clean.

That was THEN.

THIS is now J

214.    Chicken thawing for a healthy and hardy supper tonight.

215.    Sleep. Any time it comes.

216.    Life in a small town and getting phone call 8 a.m. to share news of an injured biker …    “just because it’s a neighbor and you might need to know.”

217.    Laundry finished – dried, folded, put away.

218.    Dishwasher quietly cleaning and sanitizing my dishes, pots, and pans while I write.

219.    A great-niece who loves to stop by and who will spend time with Daughter while Dear Heart and I take a day off to celebrate nine years of marriage.

220.    Nine years of marriage !!! Thank you, Holy Father, for a loving man, companionship,    and  family.
221.    For fire fighters across Texas who stand at the ready for another Red Alert this weekend – high temperatures and high winds. Bless and protect them, Holy Father.

222.    For good friends who stand by and insist that I get out of the house for lunch, fellowship, and laughter.

223.     For following a nagging in my heart when I took time to dial a friend in New York. We haven’t talked in months and months and haven’t seen each other in over four years. But her laughter, our private jokes, our memories, and our concerns picked up across the miles with no interruption. Tea and whispers, Mary calls it!

224.    For the safe birth of another baby boy—a great, great nephew. Now Dear Heart and I each have  a Mason among our nephews. J

And, dear readers, as the Apostle Paul taught us in his epistles, I offer to you:

          Grace to you and peace … I thank my God always concerning you, for the grace of God which was given you in Christ Jesus.

Liz

Summer Goes On. And On.

It has been a long, dry spell.

v In Texas

v In my soul

v In my words

Other friends and places are washed away by floods and high water.

Who said, "Feast or fammine" ????

As I hand-watered  one of our hundred-plus year old oak trees, I admitted to God that we are a selfish people who want it all and who turn from Him. And I begged forgiveness.

Maybe you know about the dry times.

No medications. High winds. Daughter’s headaches. Angst about Texas friends who helplessly watched every THING go up in flames. Then back on medications. SLEEP. REST. DREAMS.

Through these long days and longer nights, I’ve needed healing words written by my writer friends, by my cyber friends, by my family. ALAS. I’ve read few words written by anyone…. just from exhaustion.

Guess what???? There IS good news. God knew what He was doing from the beginning…..

            “And by the seventh day God completed His work which He had done; and He RESTED on the seventh day from all His work which He had done. Then God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because in it He RESTED from all His work…” (Surprises you? Yeah, right! )

Sleep. Rest.

Before the sleep came, I could not concentrate on blogs, on fiction, on history. For weeks on end I could not sit at my computer. Drought was  v e r y  dry.

HOWEVER. I did read many words in Holy Scripture. Some words sink in and bless and encourage. Other words are blown away like leaves driven by that recent summer north wind in Texas that stirred up fires and dust-devils in the pastures and in my mind. But I read again. And again. God’s Word.

So, in my own drought, here is how God held onto me and blessed me—in spite of myself and the evil restless legs……

©     I actually attended Sunday School class a couple of times and Teacher Tom is teaching on Saul/Paul. Isn’t it amazing how God works? Over the days I could not think straight and skipped Sunday classes, I was drawn into a new, exciting insight into the New Testament.

©     This very OLD Christian, deeply steeped in God’s Holy Word, has greedily taken huge gulps of the first Christians building churches and holding onto their faith and teaching one another. Like I never saw it before.

©     Later I’ll write more about my New Testament journey.

©     Even though our local chamber reports on 99° EVERY DAY… here's a glance from our south (the cool side in Texas), shady, front porch on most days of July, August and so far into September. Just sayin.



Honest picture. Honest.



©     Then, I made the monumental effort (applause is humbly appreciated) to start Daughter and me back to water workouts in our local indoor pool. *yuk; up early; drive to the pool; etc. shampoo; and etc. yuk* HOWEVER the water workouts—led by Daughter’s wicked-trainer-mother—work wonders for Daughter’s balance and mental wellbeing. Also helps her mean, old mom!!

©     Family and I drove to San Antonio to celebrate the 25^th birthday of first-born’s first born.  Oh my--- I have a birth grandson who is a quarter of a century old. OLD.  Well. I’m glad God gave him to us!!!

The OLD one is John, far right, white shirt. :-)

©     Family and I joined the celebration of the marriage of Dear Heart’s baby sister. She turned 85 in May and became a second time bride in July. Don’t even TRY to tell ME about serving a God of second chances. J We witnessed, again, two, huge families blending and bonding beautifully last Saturday.

©     Family and I attended our community 9-11 memorial last Sunday. Moving. Appropriate. Good.

Fredericksburg High School Naval Jr. ROTC

©     Faithful friends bless me as they continue to care, encourage, and cheer me on through my bleak days by knowing just when to INSIST we gather for lunch. It’s like a drink from a clear, sparkling pool.

©     Today I discovered who will receive my current prayer scarf. This one is yet another red, white and blue and even my orthopedic doctor said, “It is BEAUTIFUL.” His brother was a 25-year Marine, so he might be prejudiced. Over the last month, the scarf has grown and changed into my most unique—though imperfect—knitted offering. It is important to remind Phillip’s mom that her son did not die in vain, that we care; that we remember.

©     And one last note. Today, at the very last minute of the absolute deadline, I submitted a short story to a contest. The only important thing is that I wrote and wrote and edited and read instructions and edited and pressed the SEND button.

So, dear friends. This has been a long list of thanksgivings. If you’ll hang with me, I’ll try to write more often and offer shorter epistles. Each of you is special and dear and precious to me and to our Heavenly Father who knows you better and loves you greater than I do.

As my cyber friend, Dawn, says... let us covet only the Living Water.

Genesis 2:2, 3

    Liz

Summer & Grass Burrs in Texas: A Last Word

 - - - or a few thousand words..... a picture being worth so many.... 
<> 

The drought goes on. And on.
To the point we let the grass go, even around the house.
Our prayer is that we can save some of our old trees around the house.





In the back yard, Cocoa & Ava innocently search for gopher holes





Unaware the still green "sticker patch" lurks under their noses



While just one step over is a brittle, brown, dagger just brown and ripe enough to strike.

BUT !!! Ah-ha !! The just-four-months-in-the-ground Sage blooms away !

So. When Summer gives dry, parched days with unbearable temperatures and

 GRASS BURRS . . .

. . . I just go inside, bake Apple-WholeWheat-Honey Muffins

...and continue praying for rain.

Living Well in God’s Mercy

Liz

P.S. Thank you, Sally, for your awesome proofing. Guess what.... Encarta Dictionary really guesses about those stickers we lovingly refer to as burrs. :-)

Texas Grass-Burs and God's Armor

Most things Texas are wonderful.

People. Sunsets. Bluebonnets. Garden tomatoes for supper. Bare feet in the cool of an evening.

Texans are especially known for toughness and in this record-breaking, soul-cracking drought, our toughness comes in mighty handy.

We Texas humans are also known—on occasion—to be

Ó Stubborn

Ó Obstinate

Ó Determined

And a few other descriptions that don’t fit well in this format.

But let me tell you: There is nothing good about a Texas grass sticker-bur.

In my 70+ years, I’ve learned to live with spiders, stay away from scorpions, pray against snakes, and ration water.

But I cannot deal with Texas grass burs. They live forever. They never die. They cannot be destroyed.

Our grass burs are

Imperishable M Indestructible M Perpetual M Permanent.

And  Eternal.

Those evil stickers lurk in sand, grass, and weeds. When human skin connects suddenly with a Texas grass bur, the grass bur always wins. It digs in deep and draws blood. A sticker bur is small and evil and embeds itself into said flesh.

And it continues to live in the surface of the soft threads of carpet.

Grass burs overrun Texas.

Texas grass burs can live happily without blooming in any kind of soil for up to TWENTY years. Then, after one little rain shower, wham. Old seeds pop up into wicked stickers before the rainbow come out. And without rain, the stickers are like tiny razors in the dirt.

We have an outdoor mat on our front porch that is supposed to trap most of the burs from the soles of our sneakers and it does a so-so job. Then, just inside the front door is a braided rug that pulls some of the remaining demons off our shoes. So, for a time, my life-long Texas feet walk around in sweet denial that the rest of the floors in the house are relatively safe.

HA !!!

The longer a grass bur stays in the rug, the deeper it goes into the weave. The sticker dries and becomes brittle and razor sharp. The little spikes break off and entrench themselves into the flesh of a tender, human foot. Or finger. Sometimes, the splinter is so tiny it can’t be found to be removed and sinks ever deeper into the tissue. Next, it gets infected and the doctor removes it with special instruments, applies bandages, and sends you home with expensive antibiotics. If you are lucky, you don’t have to get a tetanus shot.

Occasionally, I sit on the floor of the front porch and pick grass burs out of the rug. Today was the day to de-bur the carpet. Each time I worked a sticker free from the threads of the rug, I thought,  Ah Ha! Gotcha before you get me!

Gradually I began to realize that no, the thorn got me first, second, and third. When I pulled up a particularly vicious thorn, I held that little sticker in my hand and thought, Yeah, you are just like that little sin I tried to cover up. The one that lived a very long time. And multiplied. And got buried away from the light of day. And attacked me at any weak moment.

The longer I looked at that tiny, dried up sticker the more evil it became. Like my sin. Both the spike and my sin grew larger. The microscopic barb/sin is insidious, dangerous, subtle, menacing, ominous, threatening, intimidating, hostile, aggressive, bullying. Trying to get rid of the stickers in my carpet—and the sin in my life—was a debilitating job. Before it was finished, I dissolved into tears and my fingers dripped blood.

Finally, I remembered that blood dripped from the side of Jesus the Christ for my sin and I prayed for forgiveness.

As I said, this old Texan is often stubborn and I jumped into the sticker job before preparing properly. Had I simply donned my garden gloves and used pointed-nose pliers I could have walked away from de-burring the carpet in half the time and totally pain free.

You know the life solution already, right??? When I live prepared in my soul, I can withstand sin much easier.

God even gave us precise, exact instructions. Laid out clear as a Texas summer sky.

God’s Word. The Holy Bible. Ephesians. Chapter Six….

¹⁰ Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.

¹¹ Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.

¹² For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

¹³ Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

¹⁴ Stand firm then, with the

¨     belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the

¨     breastplate of righteousness in place, ¹⁵ and with

¨     your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.

¹⁶ In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

¹⁷ Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

 ¹⁸ And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.

¹⁹ Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, ²⁰ for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should.

Amazing!! I’ve been tired and sick and negligent lately and it took the almost invisible sticker from a Texas grass bur to remind me of God’s greatest shield against exhaustion and illness and laziness.

          Thank You, Holy Father that even and especially in our weakness you remain strong and pure and faithful.

May you be blessed by God’s Word as together we stand firm!

Liz

My World Keeps Turning

…albeit…. S  L  O  W  L  Y.

Perhaps the weather condition of my home state reflects in the condition of my blog posting—or lack thereof—over the past several months:

85% of Texas is in either extreme or exceptional drought, the two worst categories. 

My hometown of Fredericksburg is in the Exceptional Mode.

Exceptional being AWFUL - - DRY - - - parched.

In addition to drying up, our temperatures are high and higher. We are inching our way upwards from 42 days of triple digit temperatures. For those of you who, like me, are slow in math, “triple digits” is a fancy term for anything over

ONE HUNDRED DEGREES +

of hot, hotter and hottest temperatures.

*duhhh*

Today in Kerrville, Texas – a mere 20 miles from Hometown – the outside temperature registered

105⁰

No rain means dry fields, empty creeks, dry lawns, dying trees, no wildflowers, and precious few weeds. It means livestock are sold off at rock bottom prices and that wild animals—deer, raccoons, skunks, possums—are skin and bones skinny and hungry and thirsty. And dying.

Our Texas hill country has had more than our share of drought conditions off and on during the past several years.

Believe me that dry is bad even in the winter because dry burns regardless of the temperature.

But DRY in summer is frightening because summer-hot dry burns faster and hotter and in the blink of an eye.

Do you remember reading Erma Bombeck’s The Grass is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank? Wise woman, Erma. Here’s a picture of the pasture, way behind our house, that sits on top of our septic tank. J

Notice the dry, burned-up, wasted pasture all around.

At church the other day, some of our local friends complained to me about our neighbor across the road and his use of EVERYONE’s underground water to irrigate HIS hay fields. I have nothing to do with another’s use of water and while the said neighbor is within his legal rights—part of his livelihood / agricultural needs—we’ve noticed that it’s been weeks since an 18-wheeler truck has maneuvered through his narrow gate to pick up a single bale of hay. We have noticed, by the way, that in spite of our community water wetting down his hay fields, his coastal is not growing. Yes, it is green, but the weather is too hot for the grass to grow tall enough to cut and bale.

Seems to this city girl that my Sunday School teachers were onto something way back in the early 1940’s when they taught us to take turns, to share, and to love one another.

Each night, the weather people continue to say, “There is no hope for rain.”

Nevertheless, we who are called by His name continue to petition Him, our High and Holy heavenly Father, Creator of all that is or has been or ever will be, to be merciful and to heal our hearts, forgive our sin-filled ways, and to please wet our land and fill our creeks.

And, by the way—again—do you remember that dreadful day this spring??? May 22, 1011… Joplin, Missouri…. Talk about deadly.

          So, while we entreat (beg, plead) our Holy Father to  pour out water from the heavens onto our land, we must remember to continue to pray for those who lost everything. Homes. Belongings. Photographs. Grandmothers. Aunts. Livelihoods. Kitchen sinks. Roofs to cover those who survived.

          And we MUST give thanks for God’s perfect love.

Praying to serve and glorify my God and my King.

With love,

Liz