Tried and True or What’s New—Carolyn R. Wilker

In my household, tried and true is a good thing for many reasons. Whatever works, we keep on with it, whether it’s a particular way of planting or making a pot of soup. Whether it’s a way of building something or a system for filing important papers. Sometimes, though, it’s good to break out of a rut, if one could call it that, and try something new.

The philosopher in Ecclesiastes declares that generations come and go, that the sun rises and sets and confirms that “There is nothing new under the sun.” (v. 1:9c, NIV) While those things regarding creation remain the same, if the philosopher were here, I might argue that there are new things under the sun. Maybe not the way the water flows to the sea or the return of seasons, or the wind blowing as it does. It’s good to have some things that remain consistent. But there are new ways of doing many things.

            In our time, we have telecommunications systems that the philosopher could never have dreamed of. We have Go Bus, Go Train, printing presses that are much more efficient than the first presses invented. Our way of sharing ideas is different, with internet and Smart Phones and the iPad, for example. Perhaps the ideas are limited, but the way of expressing them can be quite varied.

Several years ago, I got tired of my garden not producing in our sandy soil, no matter what I did or how hard I worked and watered it. Some plants did alright and others failed. 

A friend shared an idea on her Facebook page that she found on some other social media sharing place. A raised bed, in which we could add better soil, would be less stress on the back leaning down to plant, and we could put netting over to keep the small animals out so the plants get a chance to grow. I thought the idea was brilliant and I was able to get my husband—who likes tried and true the best—on board. That was March. In May, when it was time to get things planted, he completed the raised beds and we put them in place and filled them with new and better soil, with a lot of help from family members and a neighbour. Thus we began a new way of gardening.

Since then I’ve learned about Square Foot Gardening, an idea that the raised bed was built on. There were learning curves with this kind of gardening, for example how close could I plant the seeds or seedlings so they have room to grow and aren’t crowded. It’s been a successful venture even if my tomato plants grew through the netting. And it’s been fun, too, for my grandchildren to help me plant and water.

 And here’s where I’m glad for what doesn’t change, that the rain falls from the sky to water the plants, the water we collect from the downspouts into our rain barrel that’s the best kind of water for the plants—warm and soft.  Also I'm grateful that the seeds grow as they are intended to, and the sun shines, and that God, the creator, is in charge of all that. We just have to be good stewards and take care of what we have, using it wisely.

 

Carolyn Wilker is a writer and editor from southwestern Ontario, Canada

The Best Laid Plans by Glynis M. Belec

 Our home had been on the market for almost a year. We thought our plans were good ones. Downsizing seemed like the right choice and a good financial decision. Since we had been dealing with some health issues and needed to start thinking about a bit of a change, the plan seemed perfect.

 But nothing happened. We had a few nibbles but little that led us any further than getting our hopes up for a few brief frustrating moments. We agonized over what was the right thing to do according to God. Why wouldn’t He want us to do what seemed the most sensible thing? Sell the house. Get rid of ‘stuff’. Reduce our debt load. According to budgeting gurus we were making all the right decisions. Why wasn’t our house selling? Turns out, God did know what He was doing and He was about to make things very clear.

Then my father had a heart attack. He had been managing decently in his own home, although my sister and I had been taking turns caring for him and making it possible for him to stay there. It was a lot of work, but we knew Dad valued his independence and we did whatever we could to keep him happy, well-fed and safe.

But the time had come to make a decision. Dad knew he needed more help. And there was no way he would consider any type of extended care. His military background demanded certain things! Besides, I had made a promise to my parents when I was young, to take care of them in their golden years.

 Dad was hesitant, at first, to admit that change was necessary. I can’t say I blame him. In Ecclesiastes 3, the words poetically describe how there is a season for everything. Not only that, there is a time for every purpose under heaven. I’m thinking that not only Dad was shifting seasons, our purpose was shifting, too. It wasn’t going to be easy for any of us. I had to give up my tutoring. Dad had to give up a measure of his freedom. The decision was made. He would move in with us.

It meant many changes. And quick ones, yet. Dad needed to sell his home. We talked about listing it, but then we thought about trying to sell it ourselves. Things happened. A phone call was made and before we knew it, Dad’s house had sold within the day. The day? Are you serious, God? That was my first reaction. We had had our abode on the market for a year with nary a bite and Dad’s home sells at the click of a phone. It didn’t seem fair.

But God isn’t in the business of listening to my complaining and tantrums. Because He knows the big picture and has a way of working all things out for good, He sometimes wisely overrides our plans.

 And work it out, He did. We soon realized what God was up to. If we had sold our house we would definitely have bought a smaller home and downsized considerably. And if that would have happened we would not have been able to have Dad come and live with us.

It’s been almost two years now. Dad is nearing ninety.  Things are working out well. We all had sacrifices to make as we shifted seasons together. But when I think upon how God worked it all out I am reminded of Isaiah 55:8-9. 

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

                I’m not going to argue with that. 

A Room is Waiting—Carolyn R. Wilker

We’re past Easter now, but not into lasting spring weather, at least not here in the northern hemisphere. Winter has a tenacious hold on us. It rains, it snows, gets colder and then snows again, just like yesterday when I wrote this post.

I’m waiting for spring. I even bought a pot of daffodils to remind me of it, since ours in the garden have so far only sent up leaves and two daffodils before the weather changed again. More snow blew in and covered the garden. It’s a good thing the early flowers are used to this. Perhaps they’re more patient than we are. 

More flowers have come into bloom since I brought them home. Daffodils are a sure sign of spring—a season we are hopeful will come to stay very soon. We humans are not so good at waiting.

I bought the daffodils, not for me, really, but with someone else in mind. Our loved one who’s in a bed in hospice, no longer able to will his body, or trust his legs, to get out of bed of his own accord. The daffodils are intended as a spot of springtime brightness for his room, something he can see from his bed. I also bought a big bag of peanuts, an item on the wish list at the hospice.

plenty of windows to let the sun in and for looking out

There’s a door to outside from each patient room, and plenty of windows so patients can look out, even if they cannot physically go there. Today, when I go to visit my father, I will take the pot of daffodils and the peanuts. I’ll put some peanuts outside to entice birds and squirrels—whichever gets them sooner—to come closer, so he can watch their antics and their coming and going. The bag of peanuts is large enough that other patients can have the same opportunity, even if it’s the family or volunteers who spread the treats.

  a big bag

 A fellow storyteller shared this quote from Ram Dass this week—"We’re all just walking each other home." For the patient, last days, weeks, or even months. For family members involved, last conversations with our loved ones. We know in our head the time will come  for our patient—and for each one of us—but in our heart, we are never ready to say goodbye. The separation is the hardest, for both patient and family.

And yet, we have the peace of knowing where our loved one will go at the end of this earthly life, and it’s a whole lot better than here, if we believe what we read in God’s Word to be true. No need for snow shovels there, or winter coats and mittens. No worries about flowers freezing when another icy blast comes in April. It will be better than we can imagine.

As the philosopher wrote in Ecclesiastes, there’s a time for everything. “A time to be born, a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot… a time to weep and a time to laugh.” (chapter 3, v.1, 2, 4) While we put in these days—whatever time is given to us— let us also be prepared and know there is a room prepared for us, and that we’ll be welcomed when we arrive.

Somewhere Over the Atlantic - Rose McCormick Brandon

My friend and long-time prayer partner, Enis, arrived at the airport early for her flight from Toronto to London. She piled her bags on a cart and headed to a coffee shop for lunch. A woman came up behind her and asked for directions. A kind person, she tried to help. During the exchange her handbag was snatched from the cart. Her passport, credit cards, cash, everything she needed for her vacation was gone.
Authorities explained that she'd been played. As she turned to look at the woman asking for help, another woman had stolen her purse. She felt devastated. Several phone calls later, helpful airline staff had her on the plane. "Don't let this ruin your plans. Go and enjoy yourself," her husband said. But as Enis settled into her seat on the plane, a knot of despair lodged in her chest. How could I be so stupid? Why didn't I have my purse looped over my shoulder? I must look naive, that's why these thieves picked on me. This is the story of my life, always getting picked on. Ugly, self-accusing thoughts rolled through her mind.
Enis was overcome with self-hatred. She prayed, God, help me. Somewhere over the Atlantic, this thought, quiet but firm, came into her mind - you need to forgive yourself. She prayed again, "I do Lord, I do forgive myself. I recognize that anyone can be taken advantage of." Immediately, the self-accusing thoughts stopped, her shame disintegrated..
Is something in your life causing you anguish? Do you feel taken advantage of by others but blame yourself for it?
Perhaps God is telling you what he told my friend - Forgive yourself. Say the same kind things to yourself that you would say to others in a similar situation.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness

Ecclesiastes 3:22,23

We are loved by Someone who understands us, Someone who forgives us. Therefore, we can love and forgive ourselves.

Rose McCormick Brandon's book, One Good Word Makes all the Difference, is available at http://writingfromtheheart.webs.com