“…He will wipe away every tear…”

One day…

For those of us who live with some sort of chronic, or recurring pain, some days it is hard to smile. Especially when we try to push through without relying on medication. Stretches, or a warm and jetted tub, salves and massages, and essential oils are where many of us turn for relief. There are so many ways to deal with chronic and recurring pain. And laying the pain at the foot of the cross is a huge way to gain perspective on pain.

Not many people spend time contemplating the foot of the cross. I had a dream once, and a friend actually drew me a picture of what I had seen (which I found in a box and promised myself I will frame) as I gazed up at the feet of Christ, impaled on the Cross. In my dream, I heard swooshing and loud winds. There were large drops of rain falling and splashing all around me. I could only look up, and I could not move side-to-side, nor could I turn my head. I could only see the feet of Christ. And then I felt a warm dribbling liquid surrounding me, and I immediately felt comforted, loved, embraced, and free. I could look around me and realized I was a pebble; really just a small stone; and I was holding the Cross upright, along with a myriad of other small stones. We were a part of the dirt the Cross was embedded into. And the thought came to me: “Even the dirt surrounding the Cross was sanctified by His sacrifice.” The earth was renewed by the sacrificial Blood of Christ.

This dream has been with me since my children were small. And at the time, we only had two children. Not even teens, yet. And this dream is every bit as vivid today as it was more than 20 years ago when it happened to me. The feelings return and the sounds are especially poignant. I do believe Christ was speaking to me, helping me realize that I was part of His story. I may only be an insignificant pebble, but I am part of it. And each of us plays our part in the Story of Redemption.

Redemption through the Cross of Christ

Many years ago, I was introduced to the concept of “offer it up.” And it was applied to pretty much anything. My father-in-law used to tell his kids when they were slightly hurt, “Rub some dirt on it.” We, in turn, told our kids the same thing. Ha-Ha. And the idea of offering something up is to apply it to all we do. What are we offering it up to? The redemptive act of Christ on the Cross. There is no way I can ever repay Him for what He has done for me. But I can offer my toils and my pains to Him in a small way of reparation, and of joining to His suffering.

It is not something most protestants and other religious ideologies embrace. It is a Catholic thing; an eastern thing. We follow the steps of Christ every Lenten observance. We entwine our lives within the context of sacrifice and service. And we participate in the redemptive action of the Cross when we unite ourselves to Christ. Our actions towards our daily lives and the issues that cause our bumpy ride, as well as how we interact with others, can all be offered to Christ in reparation for His act for us. Fasting – from foods, from language, from TV, from things that do not bring us closer to Him are all acts having redemptive value. We join our meager sufferings to His. And it is a powerful process – each Lent and each Apostles’ Fast, we can join in the redemptive action of the Cross.

Chronic, aching, back…

I am so much like my paternal grandmother. And I strive to be like her in how I treat others and how I lovingly care for others. But physically, it’s more like I am her daughter. I have her hands and feet. I am a larger woman, which she struggled with her entire life, and which plagues me daily. I am even beginning to have her white hair – which I always loved and am rather pleased about. Grandma injured her back in a vehicle accident as a young woman and had back issues the rest of her life. A little more than a year ago, I lifted a 9-foot leather couch in order to vacuum under it, thinking I was 40 years old instead of 60+ years of age. I tore my right shoulder (which I had stem cell replacement for) and ruptured 5 discs in my spine, starting at C-3 and working its way down to my lumbar area. I have had injections in all the sites. The doctor told me I would get a year or more relief from the injections and we are coming up to 2 years. I think my relief is over. Or at the very least, severely waning.

I was doing so well I began water aerobics. Ouch. And then I rested and it was better. This past weekend I was climbing into my husband’s truck on the start of a camping journey and I wrenched my back. It’s been non-stop pain since. I spent most of the weekend propped under a tarp (it was raining) with pillows, a blanket, and Tylenol. Ugh.

And I am desperately working on my mindset. How I can align this constant nagging pain with the redemptive act of Christ. Every time He was whipped or beaten, that was because of my sins. Each cut or wound on His body, every bruise, every nail – all from my actions. How can I ameliorate His pain and use mine for something besides complaining?

There is a wonderful prayer I recite when I need solace:

Anima Christi Prayer

I learned a slightly different wording, but this is the prayer. My favorite part is, “Within thy wounds hide me. Never let me be separated from thee. From the wicked enemy defend me, and at the hour of death call me, that I might come to thee and with thy saints I might praise thee for ever and ever. Amen”. Okay. So that is most of the prayer. Ha-Ha. But I always imagined myself hiding within His wounds, peeking out from where the soldier stabbed Him in the side, all safe and warm. Nothing morbid or gross or bloody and fleshy. Just safely hidden in the side of Christ, protected from the wickedness and snares of the devil. (A sentence from another prayer I love). And when I imagine myself safe within Him, the pain eases somehow. I feel warm, and protected, and loved. And when you have all those things, back aches are not as onerous and life-impacting. I can accomplish all the duties of my station in life, aching as I go, but smiling from within the Wounds of Christ. Does that sound weird? Yeah, it does a little bit. But being a visual person who conjures scenes using words, it works for me. And as I sit here, the pain is less, just talking about it. Yes, my knees are propped up on my recliner and I am sitting in a position to ease the cramping pain, but my heart is at rest as well.

My peace I give to you…

“The sky is falling…the sky is falling…”

Chicken Little

Well, I agree, to a point. It all depends on what is above you when you look up. Perhaps you are in an area where things are falling out of the sky, so to speak. I feel like it most days. I cringe when I think of the money flying out of our account for various things. It’s mind-blowing. Our senators meeting overnight to enact/approve Red Flag Laws for weapons. The insanity of that is bad guys don’t jump through government hoops to get licensed firearms. They get them off the streets. Illegally. Us regular people go through rigorous background checks already. And it’s not the combat vets you need to worry about – it’s these young men hopped up on psychotropic meds who are marginalized and seeing a shrink, who are mostly responsible for these shootings. So many rabbit holes about that entire subject! And the news media pumping out more fear mongering for everyone to chew on. It’s become comical when you watch those montages of programmed news spew the exact same words on stations across the country. Verbatim. It’s an eye-opener…

Verbatim News

I’ve become increasingly tense about everything. Will we have this life, this country, in the next 20 years? Where will the USA be? What will the USA become? Do we have the luxury of the next 20 years, or is it much shorter? 5-10 years? That long? Around and around I go. At night, it is the worst. Going to bed stresses me out because I KNOW I will toss and turn and take forever to get to sleep. I have tried it all – meditating, praying, no Kindle or TV an hour before bed (right?!?), taking melatonin. I’ve tried Benadryl and Tylenol. I now drink Golden Milk every night and it does seem to help. (I know it is helping my blood sugar, for sure). And I feel like this big thing is pressing down on me, and worrying me, all day long, intensifying at night. The dark makes everything worse. Up here, darkness takes so long to happen and it doesn’t stay long.

Today’s Light Hours

I try to just let it all go by the wayside. I focus on getting my sheets clean that my lovely puppy peed on this weekend while we camped. I try to come up with nice meal plans for my husband. I focus on my grandson’s baseball tournament coming up, or my middle son’s recent job interview and our youngest son getting enough work hours. There are things up close and personal I can focus my time on. I can let the rest of the country sort of fade from constant thought. I can opt to trust in God’s plan for everything and all of us and trust in my faith to carry me through. I can’t worry about the details. I can’t worry that the sky might be falling on my country, and that this world could be on the cusp of massive change. I can listen for my washer to ping to let me know the bedding is completed; figure out why the dogs are barking; try to keep the house below 80 inside without A/C (Alaskan homes don’t have air conditioning). On and on I could go. But why do I continually come back to the falling skies???

Anxiety – give it to God

Over and over, I have to remind myself I do not walk alone. God and His promises walk beside me. My husband walks next to me and I know beyond any doubt, he was God’s plan for my life. I absolutely love the life we have together and each moment of these empty nest days warms my heart. I cannot imagine my life without him in it. And I am blessed with amazing children, daughters-in-law, and grandchildren, and some amazing friends. I know I am blessed. My heart soars when I think of everyone in my life, and when I look outside and see the land where I live. Totally blessed. The big “but” is next…lol. But I worry. Daily. Obsessively I think. And I am desperately trying to rein it in – again.

Do Not Fear

Once again I choose to cast my worries onto God. He spent 3 agonizing hours suffering on the cross for me – for my sins – for my doubts – for my worries. He paid the price – for me. I can do nothing to repay Him except to believe in Him and to love Him above all else. God makes no demands on us. He requires nothing from us. Just full acceptance. And in this age and in this chaos, the peace He offers is undeniable.

My peace I leave with you..

The sky may fall. Our culture may collapse. The world as we know may cease to be structured as we know it. We may loose our land, our homes, our families. We may lose our own lives. But we will never lose God, because He loved us first.

Believe

“..harmonious combination of words”

I am reeling from the chaos around me. I am stressed out. My heart rate is 99 – my resting is usually 63. I have this lovely residual from Covid – I get this tingling all over and it starts making me feel so agitated and restless and then my heart rate goes wonky. And to top that off, I am disturbed by comments around me, that I heartily disagree with. And the sound was loud and it was obviously meant to rankle me and it did what it intended.

Cacophony – a harsh discordant of sounds.

Euphony – the quality of being pleasing to the ears, especially through a harmonious combination of words.

Lexico – Powered by Oxford

I am finding that more and more, there are people around me who I believed thought like I do. I am learning, however, they do not. Oftentimes they do not offer a solution, just a comment meant disdainfully to bother me. And it becomes like noise. Absolute noise. Cacophony.

As this world spins (well, that’s a discussion for another day) out of control – as the euphamistic saying goes – I am continually looking for something to hang on to. LOL. My beliefs are challenged almost daily. Things I took for granted are being discovered to be all lies and made up to convince the unsuspecting populace to survive as just fat, dumb, and happy. They are waking to alarms and going off to jobs, working their brains to numbness, and going back home again, only to do it all the next day.

I listened to a posted tik-tok video the other day. The gentleman put forth the idea that we are all being farmed. Just like in the matrix, but it is for our time, treasure, and talents. We are raised with indoctrinated education, which steers us to a pre-set series of career choices, and then we are led to a specific job, meet the prerequisite spouse, and we procreate. Then we dump our kids into the system. It’s a never-ending cycle. We constantly supply fresh meat to our overlords.

Our time is stolen from us. We live where we live to make it easier to get to WORK. Not because we particularly like the area or housing choices – it’s that commute we mostly choose our living situation upon. We rent the apartment that is closest to the office so we are not on the road as much. We buy the house as close to town as we can get so those freeways are not too large a portion of our days. Lucky is the man who can work from home and have his home wherever he chooses – that is the exception and not the rule. Our time is stolen from us – do you think we are more efficient now we have computers for everything? I could disagree ad nauseam about that. We then are taxed on our wages – so many ways. Income tax, sales tax, inheritance tax, use tax…on and on it goes. Why do you think tax codes are so complicated it takes tax specialists to maneuver through it?? Look at how large the IRS has become. And it was supposed to be temporary!!! And then we get evenings and weekends. We cram hours of TV time in the evenings, enjoying program-ing! We listen and soak in all the media feeds us. On weekends we spend our days prepping for the coming week with laundry and groceries. We might try to clean the house. We may attend a little league game or dance recital for the kids. We crash on Sundays, perhaps squeezing in some time with God, and psych-up to start the treadmill of life again on Monday mornings. What is all this for?

Today was interesting because I just stopped. I mean, in my tracks. I chose to leave it alone, grabbed some Skinny Pop popcorn, and took a seat. Because I realized the cacophony of sound around me was not bringing me peace. None. And I longed for a euphony of sound…something melodic and pretty. Something to soothe the soul. I chose to (a) unload on my blog, and (b) open windows and revel in the sunshine and breezes. I watched my brother-in-law stack firewood he graciously split for us. I watched as my hubby reconnoitered a new drip system for our veggies; choosing how it dripped, calculating gallons per minute, as well as placement. And I began to gather that peace. It is that simple. You walk away from the chaos. You choose not to get involved by engaging. You let the others yell on social media, and you disengage.

Even though it’s program-ing, I am obsessed with this TV show. I know it is not a good choice for many reasons, but nonetheless I am still obsessed. It is Yellowstone and it is on the Peacock Network – free streaming. Kevin Costner stars as the patriarch of this ranching family, whose land sits just outside the gates of Yellowstone in Montana. The vistas are incredible. The characters suck you in. There is violence – lots of that. There is intrigue. Some sexual content, yes. Like I said, regardless of the reasons why I should NOT watch this show, I watch 1-2 episodes every night. There are 4 seasons and season 5 is now filming. I am on season 2. In season 2, there is a character named Monica. She is a Native American who is married to Costner’s son (in the story). She is a college professor, although most in the community think less of her because she is native. She is teaching a course to college students and asks them to meet her outside for their class. She arrives and they are all sitting around, no one talking to the other one, out in the beautiful landscape of Montana, on their phones. She chastises them about not even talking to each other. And she goes on to say something to the effect of: I can’t believe you think it is more important for you to like a photo of someone who you do not even know; and that it’s important they like your posts. You have no idea what is going on in the real world, and more than that, you don’t even realize it, and you don’t even care. I don’t know why I waste my time with you.” Sadly, she walks away and the kids return to their phones, like she never said a thing.

That scene keeps replaying in my mind. Why has our social media presence become so very important to us? What is with phones??? On Peacock, it is free, so you have commercials. I don’t normally watch Peacock (brother-in-law downloaded it for us) and am not used to commercials any more. Loe and behold! Commercial after commercial from different providers, all offering amazing deals if you just get the newest phone version. Why is that?? Why do they want us continually updating our phones? Why the built in obsolescence? I’m nursing my 8+ and my husband is nursing his 8 so we don’t get the new ones. We also blocked all the updates. There are so many monitoring systems on our phones, that I just don’t wanna play. I met a man last week, who was a guest speaker at our food sustainability group, who actually got rid of his cell phone. And he is a cervical chiropractor by trade. It’s only been 3 weeks but he was happy he had done it. My next step may be a flip phone – True Talk has some that look pretty cool. It would force my hand. My brother-in-law doesn’t have any apps on his phone. He can talk, text, and share photos. That is it. He does everything else on his laptop and he says it helps monitor his time on social media. I desperately want to do that, but I don’t know if I could. How sad is that?

Walking away

Many of our friends thought that when we relocated up to Alaska, that we were walking away. In some profound ways, we were. We left all our friends in the lower 48. We joined our son and his family, and brought our youngest son with us. So we were not alone. Some friends we have had for decades had moved here before us and were always encouraging us to come up here. For the most part, we are very happy we did relocate to such a remote place. Once you are here, you do not feel remote. We have grocery stores and Target, McDonald’s and Costco, even restaurants like Olive Garden and the Outback Steak House. LOL. We live in a housing tract. We drive regular cars. The list is endless in how we are like everyone else. We did not walk away, we simply relocated. And we are still the same people who used to live in CA and Washington State. But there are particulars that are unique to living here. Isolated in the sense that it is hard to get here, but we are united with emails, phone calls, and social media. The point is that you can never flee anywhere where you won’t find yourself, because you take you, and all your history with you. You cannot escape yourself. And we all seem to stay connected, if that is what we truly want.

I can choose to isolate myself in a myriad of ways. I am at home alone a lot. I can disconnect from social media and work in my garden. I can choose to disengage in the public discourse. I can refuse to feed their anger, their nasty comments. I can choose the better portion. I can allow the euphony of sound that can truly only be found in God, to envelope me and comfort me and be my portion. I can choose faith over cacophony. I can choose wisely. As can you.

The better portion – God

And in despair, I bowed my head; “There is no peace on earth,” I said; “For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth and good-will to men!” Then peeled the bells so loud and deep: “God is not dead nor doth He sleep; the Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail, with peace on earth, good-will to men.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, on the civil war

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here I am. Send me!” Isaiah 6:8

Send me…

This verse, and the song written based upon it, have been a favorite since I chose to become Catholic, back in 1983. It has been a long and very winding road. It certainly is not a popular faith to espouse in public. Neither is it popular to say which denomination of the 1000s out there you are. Why is that? There are so many, and varied, reasons!

In the milieu that is social media, there is a growing sound coming from corners we’ve sort of made fun of – there are those discussing the flat earth theory; the lost books of the bible theory; the lost histories; the erroneous histories; the outright false histories; lost cures and health solutions that have nothing to do with big pharma and so on and so on!! Many areas that are popping up more and more. Some of the loud voices lump all these together under “conspiracy theories,” but these are but a few of the things popping up out there. And these are the ones that have been assaulting my brain!

Flat Earth Map

And the more I delve into all these rabbit holes, sometimes the more depressed I get. Because if all this stuff is true – and I have only barely touched the surface of it all here – our entire lives we have been lied to, and told stories to keep us compliant and in line with no one even thinking of stepping out of bounds. Plus!! And this is a big one – all those hours of studying were just spent memorizing things the powers that be wanted us to know – they are not the truth. On so much of it – I want a refund! And today, I still did not use Algebra. LOL.

Christ Pantocrator

I had a lengthy, and deep discussion with a good friend the other day, and that conversation is what enticed me to write this post. I was lamenting all these things that were coming at me, from all these different sources, about sp many, many, things. And she asked pointed questions: (1) Does knowing this stuff make your life less stressed? (2) Do these facts help your walk with God? (3) Does is change your faith? And she made me think. She believes the Bible is the “inspired word of God,” and she accepts that the Council of Nicea was inspired by the Holy Spirit to include the books God wanted in the Bible (and she is so not Catholic). She told me that she believes that God gave us the blueprint for living in His inspired Word. Anything else is just extra, dross, superfluous. And mostly unnecessary. She also told me that she refuses to let all this stuff in this crazy world make her miserable. She works in her yard, helps with community things, spends time with friends, and lives her life. She asked me what I was going to do. And this is what I came up with:

I am a woman of faith. I love attending Divine Liturgy and soaking up the Word of God. I love praying. I love being a Christian woman who attends Church. And I love incense, and beeswax candles, and icons, and hearing a chanted liturgy. Why deny myself the style of worship I love? Why pretend I am just a believer in Christ and not a church-affiliated person? Yes, there are things I think should change about the Church. Yes, I do believe the smoke of Satan has entered the Church and evil is everywhere. Everywhere. In every Church. In every belief system. In all aspects of government and public life. Because we have been suppressing ourselves, under the tutelage of public opinion. We need to take it back.

Madonna of the Streets

One of my favorite depictions of the Blessed Mother is the one above – the Madonna of the Streets. I have a 3-d bust of this hanging in the master bathroom. She just reminds me of being a mother, caring adoringly for her Child. And She leads by example. The consummate Mother. I have religious art over my entire house, in literally every room. And it comforts me. So why fight it? Why not continue living it, living my faith?

So perhaps the flat earthers have some legit points. Maybe NASA is all smoke and mirrors and that massive budget they have has nothing to do with outer space but are a way to influence the public… some sort of undercover alphabet agency. *Sigh* I suppose I can let all that slide. I can, instead, stop going to those sites. I can, instead, binge on Magnolia TV (Not gonna lie – mildly obsessed). I can wake up and pray, instead of checking social media. I can work to lose hours of phone time every week instead of spending so much time monitoring the moment-by-moment goings on of the DC swamp/establishment. Basically, I can take a breath. Settle my mind. Ease the stress.

Prayer

“Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” The Jesus prayer, recited every moment you think of it can help center your day. It leads me into deeper prayer with Christ. It can offset the chaos around me. It can help me enter into a deeper walk with Christ. And I can regain my foothold in this world, working on my garden, my family, my life. God is good. And after all is said and done, God wins.

Send me!

“Listen and hear My voice; pay attention to what I say.” Isaiah 28:23

Being profound or saying something of importance, is a hard thing to pull off. Especially for those of us who write and/or blog. Lots of us think we are arm-chair pundits or philosophers. Most of us fail miserably at it. But the overriding theme is that we just want to be heard. Everyone has an opinion, based on their learned experiences, personality, and outlook. Many of us base our responses and verbiage on our faith, and our interpretation of our faith. And there are many among us who spout off and say horrible things to one another, because of those experiences we have had, or perhaps a mental condition. There are many who are ill from a variety of reasons.

My sheep listen to My voice; I know them and they follow Me.

John 10:27

Trying to be Christ-like to others all the time is exhausting. I know we have all met people who seem to have an aura of peace around them. They are a pleasure to be around. Their presence lightens the room and our spirits feel filled. We also know those who drain the life out of us every moment spent in their presence. Quite often, just being in public where I am called upon to interact with others, can drain the life out of me. I love people and those who know me know I love to gab. As I have gotten older, and am alone more often than not, I have come to relish the solitude and quiet. And it takes a lot out of me to socialize.

And the crux of this post is experiencing the voices of others, and discerning import, and dross. And also, I do long for my couple of close girlfriends and our long chats at my table. I miss those days so much. Hubby works from home most of the time, so I try to leave him alone and not bother him. It makes for quiet days. And I understand why my dad, with his delusions, is so lonely for the voice of others, especially those he loves. I am not as angry or short-tempered with him as I once was. It was a steep learning curve! Being Christ-like can rip the energy out of me, but it also gives me profound peace. I love to imagine Christ smiling when I get along better with my dad, and others I have a hard time with. It is making me stretch as a person. So funny it’s taken 65 years! (No laughing).

Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.

James 1:19

Conversations these days are so guarded. We have to tip-toe around those who believe differently than we do because tempers seem to flare so easily. I have never understood why those who lean towards the left seem to be so angry. And there are so many self-righteous people who lean more conservatively, as well. It is a dance. Some days I just want to sit it out. Getting your voice into the miasma that is social media is not easy. I am happy to have made some internet friends who think more like I do than my own children, and who are “popular” or known in the conservative arena. They take the time to chat and reinforce my beliefs. It is like a safe kiddie pool to get into, rather than the raging seas of media exchanges. And even the times I miss with friends would not be repeatable these days because I am far more into all these odd theories than they are! I am sure they think I am a little nuts. And that is okay. We meander around the issues and stick to what we know – our kids, grandkids, recipes, gardening, husbands. LOL. The problem, as I see it (again, wanting to share my opinion and get my voice out there) is that the world is not getting better. We are going to have to pinch a lot of pennies to enjoy our upcoming camping trip – the gas alone is gonna kill us! It may turn out to be our only foray in our camper this year. The grocery bills are becoming daunting. Our savings are shrinking. And most of the pundits, even those on the left and even bankers, are warning us this is the lull before the big storm. What is a small voice like mine to do?

But whosoever listens to Me will dwell secure and will be at ease, without dread of disaster.

Proverbs 1:33

I must put my cares upon the Lord. Only He knows what is best for me. And God wins. The war is won, although we are facing many battles ahead of us. With prayers on my lips, I can drown out the cacophony of noise that surrounds us these days. I can turn off media. I can listen only to Christian music, that will uplift me and give me courage. I can read only written works that speak to my spirit. I can rely on the many promises of God to protect his flock. In all of that, I can also put my hands to the plow and not look back, only forward, towards my Lord. (“Jesus replied, ‘No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the Kingdom of God.'” Luke 9:62). We can each come out of this on the other side, better people than when these trials began.

And do not be fooled – the times we are in are just the beginning. We should all be prepared. We all should stock up on water and food, enough for months. We should start growing things to sustain us. We need to know where our food comes from – meet your local farmers. Get involved in food security groups. Plan ahead in case our freedoms are severely hampered or even compromised. Just like you plan with natural disasters – have safe places to meet up. Learn to communicate using radios and other methods. Be secure in your home. Know your neighbors. Be discreet in your preparations. But also prepare to help those who never thought bad things would happen.

For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in this present age…

Titus 2:11-12

Living upright and godly lives in this present age…oh my word, this present age! I never thought we would have pride month where even mayonnaise gets a rebranding and spelling! Or children are encouraged to attend parades and be exposed to kink? Are you serious? We need to take this country back in so many, many arenas. We need God back in every aspect of our lives. We need strong men and women to take their families back and to just say no to the programming and interference in the raising of future generations. Not everyone deserves a trophy. Not everyone should go to college. Every child deserves to be safe, and loved, surrounded by family. The time to act is now. Grab those kids, get them into church, get them digging in the dirt and planting food, get them off the electronic gadgetry that plagues them, surround them with extended family and friends who feel the same way. Support other families like yours. Plan where your dollars go, especially as they are valued less and less. And teach your children to listen for that still, small voice of God in the every day of life.

The Lord said, ‘Go stand out on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’

Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake. but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.

Then a voice said to him, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’

1 Kings 19:11-13

We all expect big things from God. Enormous acts of fire and brimstone, ushering an age wherein the Glory of God will be shown. If you read Revelations with the end times in mind, you want to curl in a ball and hide. Those will be terrible times, to be sure. But we are living in pretty awful times as it is. I am not waiting for some Project Moonbeam holographic image in the sky from the deep state telling me it is the second coming of Christ. I will await that gentle whisper. Because God’s voice is unique – you will know when He speaks. His voice is what counts.

All the wicked of the earth You discard like dross; therefore I love your statutes.

Psalm 119:119

The rest of the noise is dross…the extra that comes from smelting or purifying metal. There is no dross, no imperfection in the Word of God. So discernment is key. Planning is important. Treating others the way God would treat you. These are the important things. And our voices will be added together to form choirs, praising God, even among the chaos.

I will glory in the Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice.

Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt His name together.

Psalm 34:2-3

“I dipped my toes into the water and I got soaked to the bone…”

I dipped my toes..

As many of you know who read this blog with any regularity, I had my mom living with me, and she had end-stage Alzheimer’s. It’s been a year this month that she passed away. And I still have my dad. He lives on the other side of the country. His wife and stepdaughter had him admitted to a memory care facility. And he is mad. I mean he is completely pissed off.

He called me – twice in 5 minutes – yesterday, pleading for advice for a problem he doesn’t have and only imagines. Delusions are a part of his daily living. He ranted and raved at me for 1 hour and 35 minutes. I barely got a word in. Entering into Alzheimer’s World is like Alice going down the rabbit hole. I have been down some amazing rabbit holes with my mom, to be sure. But she got kind as the disease progressed. She passed over angry right around the time she was diagnosed. She accepted things. It still made her angry, but in some odd way, as she approached death, she got quiet and comfortable with herself. And she was great to be around. Not my father. My relationship with him has been chaotic at best. So very stressful. And each time he would nose his way in, my family would suffer. Because he treated me so poorly and my kids and husband despised him for it. And as this delusional aspect of dementia has grown stronger, he is more and more difficult to deal with. And I have not seen him in over 20 years – he lives on the opposite side of the country and was always too busy for me and mine. But now that he is alone in a facility, he wants me, his oldest daughter, to make things right. Like I have any authority whatsoever. He signed all that away years ago to his wife and his middle stepdaughter. Because of Hippa – I have no rights where he is concerned. And he is mad I cannot fix things.

Internet photo – but it looks a lot like my dad!

I tried to reason with him and finally got quiet. I had him on speaker on my laptop and actually played solitaire while listening to his rant. I didn’t bother commenting – it did nothing but fan the flames of his intense anger. It may seem strange that I am this bothered, but my dad has always been just out of reach for me. I never performed quite good enough; I was never thin enough; I didn’t become a doctor; I homeschooled my kids; we attended the wrong Church…it goes on and on. And my entire life I have tried to be the daughter that made him proud. Now, at 95 and in end-stage dementia with delusions, he tells me he loves me, he is proud of the life I have made, he thinks our kids are amazing adults, but he’s mad he has no relationship with any of us. His rant was pretty thorough yesterday. At one point he told me he never wants to talk to me again because I always make him so angry; in the next breath he says I’m the only one he ever wants to talk to because I challenge his intellect. *Sigh* It was a long, long, conversation.

The inner me…

I know he gets to me because I am still that 6-year-old girl trying to gain daddy’s love somehow. Dad was always working. And when he came home we were instructed to be quiet and not make noise or upset him. Mom had his gin-and-tonic waiting, all dressed and cleaned up, dinner cooking. Everything had to be clean and neat, because he was under so much stress. We had to be clean, dressed, and playing quietly, homework done, in our rooms. Dad was working most of my childhood on getting a man into space before the Russians. We lost that race; he had a mental breakdown. I was around 9 or 10 years old. Then we had to be really quiet! As my brother and I entered our teens, dad changed careers and had his own business. He was even more busy. Our lives were the dichotomy of feast or famine. LOL. We’d have lots of toys like boats and cars, and then we’d get food stamps. It was chaotic and nothing we could count on. We were forced to work at his plant on afternoons and weekends. It was all or nothing. And it still feels like that rat race when I speak with him. He is still on the treadmill… I wish he could have read, “Who moved my cheese?” It truly may have helped. I think dad is totally the “hem” character. If you haven’t, you should read the book!

Still chasing my cheese…keeps moving…

And so how do I help a 95-year-old who has delusional dementia, and who lives across the country? *sigh* For me, I go back to my faith. I have no authority in dad’s life to make any changes, for better or worse. That is in stone. I live literally 1000s of miles away and have not seen him in over 20 years. We were estranged for several years until this past year. Our relationship is basically one where he rants and I listen. I cannot affect any change in our relationship. My brother says we can never get our dad back, nor have any real relationship with him, other than to listen. Soon, we both believe, he will forget about us all together. Maybe that will be a blessing. And then we would wait for that final telephone call. I’m not sure. But I know this – God is merciful. My dad needs abundant mercy. And so I pray for that. For him. For me. For my entire, extended, messed-up family. I came across these lyrics today, and they made me smile and feel the love of God in my life. I will end this reflection with them:

I dipped my toes into the water and got soaked to the bone; I turned my gaze to my Father, and suddenly I was home.

I gave everything away and I became rich, indebted to the abundance that You so readily give.

I became obedient and my freedom flourished like a bird; I became selfless and fell even more in love.

I dipped my toes into the water and was soaked to the bone; I turned my gaze to my Father, and suddenly I was home.

Dipped my toes by kinnship