“Although the world is full of suffering, it’s also full of the overcoming of it.”

Helen Keller

The recent terrorist bombing at the Boston Marathon left our country shaken to its core and grieving deeply for our loss of innocence and security.  We’re grieving openly and collectively for those who lost their lives and the families that will forever be missing one member.  We’re grieving for the maimed and wounded who’s wonderfully normal lives were changed drastically and permanently with the explosion of the first bomb.

Many of us are struggling with a foreboding of vulnerability wondering where and when the next terrorist attack will kill or wound innocent people going about their daily activities.  Some are wondering how radically our daily lives should be/will be altered if terrorist attack start happening with more frequency.

Americans know that the Boston Marathon terrorist bomb could have been detonated in any city across the USA.  We understand that “there but for the grace of God go I.”  And because of this knowledge we wake up at night worrying and during the day we talk to friends, co-workers, family, and neighbors attempting to find strength in our shared vulnerability, and we find it.  There is strength in our communal grieving and shared vulnerability, it gives us common goals.  Goals to heal, be stronger, smarter, and to continue to be proud that we are Americans.

An act of evil intended to weaken American society is actually making us stronger and more courageous, poetic justice at its best.  Americans are compassionate and giving, more than $30 million has been donated to help the victims of the bombing.  Americans are strong in mind and body and we will remain that way, it’s in our DNA.  Already there are stories of injured individuals fighting with amazing courage to learn how to live with a new and foreign prosthesis, they are Boston Strong - American Strong. 

Churches, organizations, and groups all across the country have been meeting to pray for the victims, our country, and for our leaders.  Yes, in times like these even those who don’t pray, pray knowing deep down inside that God is there listening, caring, loving us all. 

The United States of America was built upon Christian values and it shows in the way we respond to an act of evil.  We grieve openly and collectively, we share concerns and fears with each other, we willingly and freely take care of our wounded, we learn from our pain becoming stronger and smarter and we seek justice. 

As troubles mount up strong and tall, doubt overcomes the heart.   

We wonder why God would allow our world to fall apart.

For trials choke our hurting hearts with mighty cords of fear.

They blur our sight and plug our ears to God who’s standing near.

We ask, "Where are the blessings, God promised those He loves?"

And why do trials rage and roar against His chosen ones?

Does He care or is He distant from the lives of men?

Do our prayers fall empty… far from His great hand?

OUR wisdom says that pain can’t be God’s perfect will for us. 

Would we allow a child we love to suffer such deep loss?

But wisdom from the throne of God is not the way of man.

Its deeper than the deepest sea; more vast than grains of sand.

With His awesome, holy sight, God knows just what we need.

He teaches us in circumstance and waits for us to heed.

He molds and forms us just like clay, in a potter’s hand.

He bends and works the clay until its fashioned like He planned.

Through pain and pressure, stress and fire, a new work comes in view.

Forever changed, with softened heart, tested through and through.

Like a potter and the clay, God designs us with His hands.

       He uses our dark trials, to make us more like Him.

       And what the devil means for loss…our God means for gain.

       And bowing to His sovereign way , new life we will attain.

Recently my middle son had his 19^th birthday and like so many 19 year olds when asked what he would like for his birthday he said, “Cash, it’s the only thing I really need;” and he meant it.  He’s at that awkward place in life where the carefree living of teenage-hood collides with the realities of adulthood and adulthood keeps sending overdraft notices, late notices, and the gas tank is empty, again.  So, he really needs cash; it seems the part-time retail job that pays barley more than minimum wage isn’t going quite as far as he thought it would. 

Smiling, I listen to him tell me about the budget he recently crafted.  On paper every bill was paid and the gas tank filled, but in practice the money is gone long before his next paycheck arrives.  "In real life", he explained, "unexpected things come up and … the money is gone."  He could try to work full-time but that would compromise his grades at the community college. 

So, emphatically he restates that the only birthday present he wants or needs is cash.  I stare at my son, nodding my head in an understanding kind-of-way, but I don’t want to give him cash.  The problem with giving cash as a gift is it won't change his financial woes.  The gift will be just enough money to fill up his gas tank and pay a bill or two, then poof it’s gone!  But his financial situation will be the same next month. 

Our conversation got me thinking about what my heart would truly like to give my son for his birthday.  Would it be a new car whose windows open, or would it be a higher paying job, or maybe an I Phone without a cracked screen.  No, those ideas are nice but not what my heart would give my son.

I’ve been watching my son's entrance into adulthood with the eyes of a mother.  Eyes that see his successes and failures through the filter of a mom's heart and this filter sees and understands the value of his struggles to find his place in this word.  I've watched as he fails and then struggles to fix the problem.  I’ve watch as he succeeds, gets over confident, and then messes up again.

While contemplating my son's journey into manhood I asked myself again what my heart would give him for his 19th birthday.  If it was within my ability I would give him the strength and confidence to stand strong through adversity, the strength to be honest with himself, the strength to be honest with others, the strength to keep holding onto his faith, the discipline to do the right thing even when others aren’t, a heart that chooses forgiveness, the ability to laugh at himself, and a kind heart that resists harsh judgment of others. 

This contemplation about what gifts I desire to give my son made me think about God and all the gifts and blessings He freely gives to us when we choose to believe in him.  I find comfort in the fact that God understands our struggles with human nature as we mature in our Christian walk.  I appreciate that He gives forgiveness when we mess-up and then mess-up again.  How blessed we are to have a father who loves us completely.

Debora Shelford Hobbs

Over the last year or so an uncomfortable and difficult question had been growing in Toby’s mind." Was God who they say He is?" This question inevitably led to another questions; "did Toby still believe in God?" With life pressing in from all corners and disappointment in fellow Christians growing Toby needed time to think so he drove to the beach and parked his car in the deserted parking lot. Lost in thought he stared out the rain streaked windshield.

As a child in Sunday school he’d learned about God’s greatness, His creative power, omnipresence, all powerful and loving being. As an adult he had faithfully attended church with his wife and children but over the years his belief in God had been chipped away by disappointment in humans, in the church, and with the evil they created

"Who was God really", he asked himself. If God was real, why did He love mankind? Why would he let imperfect man represent him? Why would he let imperfect man use His name as a surname, Christian, when every one of them was sinful? Toby thought that if he was God he’d leave humans to destroy themselves with their greed, jealousy, prejudice, abuse and start over with an improved race.

More difficult questions came to Toby.  "If God was real why didn’t he strike dead the rapist, pedophile, vicious dictator, and murderer? If He was real why didn’t he punish the religiously abusive minister, teacher, parent or other leaders?"  Toby’s life was filled with Christians who claimed to be God honoring but lived in contradiction to that claim.

Toby’s mind was so muddled with confusion that is hurt. “God, who are you?” he said in frustration. "Are you really present in this world, seeing all the evil that happens daily?" Toby watched the white caps in silence; his mind seemingly blank for a moment or two.

In the quiet of his mind a Bible verse he learned in Sunday school come back to him. Galatians 6:7-8 Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Toby thought about this verse for a few moments; maybe those claiming to honor God and deliberately abuse others do suffer judgment. Not just judgment but also the natural consequences of their decisions. Toby found comfort in this knowledge. He remembered another verse, Proverbs 16:2, All a man's ways seem innocent to him, but motives are weighed by the Lord. Toby thought about all the times he'd justified his own bad behavior then considered the times his motivation had been unjustly judged by others. God knew the truth in all these situations, this fact was oddly comforting to Toby.

“God, why not stop the abuser before they have the chance to hurt someone?” Toby asked. But he knew the answer, Free Will. What a mystery Free Will was because it allows for sin but hopes for obedience. Free Will, each person not only has the right to choose to believe in God or not, but actually must decide which way they believe at some point in their lives. Because of Free Will, each day a person decides how to think and behave. God wants our love but gives every person the freedom to choose to not love and believe in him, amazing.

Toby’s spirit still felt heavy, he was so disappointed in mankind. Then another Bible verse came to him. 1 Samuel 16:7, "Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." God looks at the heart and Toby looked mostly at the actions. Can a heart with good intentions hurt others? Toby knew the answer, Yes.

Toby started thinking about the nature of God. While thinking about God he realized that over the last few years he'd spent too much emotional energy and time thinking about how other humans had disappointed him, hurt him, and hurt others. He had focused on sinful man and not on the Holiness of God; this thinking had depressed him and caused him to lose hope. Numbers 23:19 said, God is not a man, that he should lie, nor a son of man, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill? What a comfort it was for Toby to meditate on the holiness of God and not the sinfulness of man. I Choose to believe in you God, please help me understand these things that trouble my soul.

One more verse came to Toby, Zephaniah 3:17 The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with his love, He will rejoice over you with singing," "God please quiet my troubled mind with your love; please be with me Lord." Toby prayed, "please help me stay focused on you and not on mankind for you are The Holy God and we are imperfect humans in need of your love."

Debora Shelford Hobbs

When the Messiah died like a common criminal, the disciples were confused and lost but when they saw their Lord alive after three days of devastation, it changed their lives so profoundly that they too were willing to die for their faith.  When we don’t understand what’s going on in life and when trials and pain challenge our faith know that there is always a purpose.  It may not be visible at the moment but it will come clear at some point…in the same way Jesus’ death became clear to his followers after He rose.  This poem is written from the perspective of one of the disciples.
Keep the faith!

 Hope Has Come!

I Love You Warts and All

Kimmie stood before her grandma with her head hung low and her shoulders slumped forward.  Her small pudgy hands were clasped in front of her little round belly and her toes were pointed in towards each other.  Large elephant tears slid down her cheeks mixing with the goo running from her button nose.   Slowly the back of her right hand reached up and smeared the teary-gooey mess around in an unsuccessful attempt to clean it up.  Trying again, Kimmie lifted her whole arm then buried her nose deep into the sleeve of her shirt making one long swipe from bicep to the back of her hand.  That worked.

Kimmie loved grandma more than anyone else in the world and was devastated that grandma had caught her lying, again.  She really didn’t mean to lie; it just seemed to slip out before she had time to think about it, and now grandma was disappointed in her.  Oh, how Kimmie hated to disappoint grandma!

“Kimmie, would you please look at me” grandma asked in a firm but kind voice.  Kimmie lifted her head just enough to look at grandma from under her eyebrows, her lip started to quiver.  “Kimmie, I’d like to see your whole face.”   Hesitantly, Kimmie raised her head and met grandma’s clear blue eyes with her own.  “I’m sorry I lied to you grandma, I won’t ever lie to you again for as long as I live.” The words spilled out of Kimmie’s mouth in an almost pleading tone. 

Grandma thoughtfully examined Kimmie through her Coke-bottle-glasses, “Kimmie, I know you’re sorry you lied to me and that’s good, but it’s not enough.  I want you to learn that there’s always a consequence to lying, and usually it’s unpleasant.  Tears spilled out of Kimmie’s eyes, it hurt so bad to have grandma upset with her, but she also detested being disciplined.  Calmly, grandma said, “you will need to call your parents to tell them what you did and no TV tonight.”

 Now the tears flowed like a river down Kimmie’s six year old cheeks, how could she admit to mommy and daddy that she’d lied to grandma, again.  Grandma dialed the phone then handed it to Kimmie.  Oh, what a hard conversation it was for Kimmie, but she did it and oddly enough felt better when she hung up the phone.

After the phone call grandma sat down in her favorite chair and held out her arms in a warm invitation for Kimmie to come sit on her lap.  Grandma scooped Kimmie up and wrapped her securely in her cozy grandma arms then kissed her on top of her head.  “Kimmie, I love you warts and all” grandma said in a soft whisper.  Those words were so sweet to hear, grandma still loved her even though she’d lied, even though she wasn’t perfect.  Kimmie felt happy, forgiven, and truly loved; warts and all.

There have been times in my adult life when I’ve felt like Kimmie, disappointed in my own behavior, guilty, and devastated that I let God down.  I’ve cried tears of remorse and prayed passionately for forgiveness.  I’ve accepted the impending consequences and promised myself and God that I would never make that same mistake again.  And then, much like Kimmie’s grandma, I could imagine the Lord saying to me, “I love you warts and all.”  I can hear Him saying “while you were still a sinner I willingly gave my life for you, I love you warts and all.”  At times like this God’s unconditional love is like a big safe hug that engulfs my entire body, He loves me just as I am.  It’s so wonderful to be forgiven and truly loved unconditionally.

May you know deep within your soul that you are loved by God unconditionally; Warts and All.

Romans 5:8  But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Psalms 36:7   How priceless is your unfailing love! Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings.

Debora Shelford Hobbs

There are many possible reasons for unanswered prayer. This poem deals with only one...the heart.   Other explanations for unanswered prayer can be that we must wait on God’s timing or the person we're praying for is resisting the Holy Spirit since God gives us all free will.   It can also be that what we are asking for isn’t good in the long run or there may be something we need to learn before the answer can be delivered.  Lastly, a request  might very simply,  not be in God’s will or purpose for our lives.  This poem deals directly with the sins of the heart and the affect they can have on our prayer life.  The poem doesn’t mean that we can only see answers to prayer if we are sinless, for if that were the case, we would never see answered prayer.  But when God reveals something in our heart that needs to change and we resist, we run into all kinds of problems including a greatly diminished prayer life. 

A Tree Called “Can’t Forgive”

With faith as small as mustard seed a mighty mountain falls
Just a spoken word of faith uproots a tree and all
Its written that a fervent prayer from a heart that’s right
Releases heaven's power and shackles evils' fight . 

So if my prayers are full of faith… are fervent from my heart
Then tell me why my heartfelt cries seem empty and ignored
I’ve watched and waited long O God… to see my mountains fall
But all I see is empty space and silence from You pours.
Here on my knees I cry to You, Renew my hope this day
For I am growing weary and my scars, they blind my way.

 As I cried unto the Lord, His words came sure and true
That if I hold sin in my heart, my prayers cannot be heard. 

And then God said so clear and loud; it shook my world that day
A tree of unforgiveness, has hid you’re prayers from Me.
For its dark roots have burrowed down and fostered bitter pride
They furrowed deep within the heart and judgment worked its blight
And now a tree called “Can’t Forgive” shades My holy light.   
It stands between your heart and Mine, it shadows prayers and cries     
And as it grows it suffocates My power in your life.
With faith just like a mustard seed uproot that tree this day.
And cast it out with roots and all in Jesus’ mighty name.
As “Can’t Forgive” is toppled, My heart will join with yours
And you will see with your own eyes, My power from heaven pour.

Luke 17:6,  Matthew 17:20, James 5:16, Psalms 66:18

Rhonda Shelford Jansen

This has been a hard year.  We've had trial after trial…and I don’t mean small ones.  Last month, I drove  across the state to attend my son’s college graduation.  I was alone because my husband was stuck in a long and arduous fishing season so was unable to attend.  Saying I was feeling heavy hearted with the load I’ve been carrying is an understatement.  My iPod was playing worship music and an old song began that brought me back to another time.

Twenty years ago, my husband bought me a beautiful diamond and sapphire bracelet for my birthday.  It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I owned and was a big splurge since we had little money in those days.  I cherished that bracelet and wore it every day. 
I awoke one morning and  realized that the bracelet wasn't on my wrist.  With a feeling of dread  I frantically searched every inch of my house and car, but I didn't find it.  Trying to exhaust all possibilities, I drove one and a half hours to the ski resort I had visited the day before, but no one had turned in my bracelet.  I checked at all the places I had stopped along the way, but still had no luck.   After my final inquiry, I headed to the car teary eyed, fearful that the bracelet was lost forever. 

Before starting my car, I sat and cried to God about how much the bracelet meant to me and explained to Him its great sentimental value.  I reasoned with God that He should help me find it because it was the most valuable thing I had to my name and that we had no insurance to cover it. 
Wiping my tears, I turned the key in the ignition and my cd player started automatically,  “Lord You are more precious than silver, Lord You are more costly than gold.  Lord You are more beautiful than diamonds and nothing I desire compares to You.”  Tears streamed down my face and I knew that I would not be finding my bracelet. 

Twenty years later the song was touching my soul again and I realized that once again my heart was focused on the loss of things that are important to me. Things that are good and even honor God and things I have prayed for diligently and fervently.  Answers to those prayers have been slow in coming and instead, more trouble piled on.  But that moment, when that song started, I realized that I was so focused on what I longed for that I forgot to value my relationship with God above all else… even above the desires of my heart that are good and are things that God ultimately wants for my family and me.  I knew that very moment that when it comes right down to it, there is NOTHING I desire or value above my Lord...and thats the way it should be.   I asked the Lord to help me to rest in His love and trust Him afresh with every situation and to take the spirit of heaviness from me.  Suddenly, instead of my problems and worries weighing me down, the burden became light and joy rushed into my heart.  My outlook was renewed even though none of my circumstances had changed.  
I swear I replayed the song and sang to the top of my lungs twenty times…one for every year that my bracelet has been lost. 

By Rhonda Shelford Jansen

It was a cold Sunday morning two weeks before Christmas and each seat in the sanctuary was filled as the worship team began singing; Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty.  Soon the collective voices of the congregation rose in praise as faces and hands were lifted up towards heaven; early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee. 

Toward the back of the sanctuary and several seats in from the isle Henry reluctantly stood with the other worshippers.  He was feeling uncomfortable and wished his wife had chosen seats in the very back so he could leave without disturbing anyone.   Henry could hear the passion in the united voices; holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!  But his heart felt no passion; it was heavy with guilt and defensiveness.

Henry’s guilt and shame gave birth to a defensive attitude which was the direct  byproduct of a bad decision he had made several months ago and no matter how hard he tried to escape it the guilt clung to his conscience like fly paper.  He'd tried to creatively explain away this bad decision but his conscience knew better, the result was an unhappy, defensive, and very guilty feeling Henry.  His mind obsessively said”you’re guilty, you’re not worthy of God’s love”.  Henry's spirit was uncomfortable and he wanted to leave but couldn’t, people would notice and wonder what’s wrong.  The singing continued; God in three persons, blessed Trinity!

Distracted, Henry began to examine all the worshipers with their faces and voices lifted towards God.  Oh how he wished to be like them entering into worship without the guilt and heaviness that was wrapped around his black soul.  Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee. 

Henry noticed Ralph a local business man who was known as a bit of a conniver, worshipping.  There was Ellen a suspected homosexual, worshipping.  Henry moved his eyes up and down the rows making a mental note about the imperfect humans who were worshipping God.  There was the gossip, alcoholic, ex-drug addict, the twice divorced, the liar, the abused and abuser, and of course the rigidly religious one who was always doing the right thing but also managed to judge harshly those who didn’t add up to her exacting standards.  They all kept singing; Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee, who was and is, and evermore shall be.

A tiny bead of warmth started to grow in Henry’s chest as he thought about how flawed each worshiper was; they were all sinners just like him.  Not a one of them stood without sin before man, but before God they were sinless through the cleansing blood of Jesus Christ.  Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee, perfect in pow’r, in love, and purity.

It was just a few weeks before Christmas and Henry hadn’t bothered to think about the birth of Jesus he’d been too consumed with his own quilt not to mention stressing over work and the family budget.  But, as the bead of warmth spread through his body Henry began to consider the miracle of Jesus’ birth and how this child was born to save the world from sin.  “God, please forgive me and help me to accept your forgiveness” Henry prayed as tiny tears moistened the corner of his eyes.

The bondage of guilt and defensiveness was loosened in Henry's spirit by the divine knowledge that God saw him sinless through the blood of Jesus. For the first time in months Henry's spirit felt free to worship.  Henry lifted his voice in praise with the congregation; Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! All Thy works shall praise Thy Name, in earth, and sky, and sea.  Holy, holy, holy; merciful and mighty, God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!

May the deep meaning of Jesus' birth and the cleansing power of his blood be made real to you this Christmas season.

Debora Shelford Hobbs

Holy, Holy, Holy | Reginald Heber

1. Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee; Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty! God in three Persons blessed Trinity!

1. Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee, Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea; Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee, Who was, and is, and evermore shall be.

1. Holy, holy, holy! Though the darkness hide Thee, though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see; only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee, Perfect in pow’r, in love, and purity.

1. Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! All Thy works shall praise Thy Name, in earth, and sky, and sea; Holy, holy, holy; merciful and mighty! God in three Persons blessed Trinity!

My son’s big strong arms wrap around me in a firm, comforting hug and I thought, “I don’t want to let go.”  I pated Ryan’s back like I had done since he was a baby, and we move apart.  I looked up at his handsome face and wondered where the years had gone. Voices were calling his name; he waved and walked toward a group of friends and I was left watching him stride away, tall, handsome, a man. 

A mixture of pride and concern filled me as I observed the crowd growing; people were talking and laughing, hugging and shaking hands.  The flowers were beautiful and so was the bride, but I did not want to let go, not yet, there was so much more to teach him.  There were many lessons I wanted a second chance at teaching and some situations I wanted erased from his life.  Had I equipped this young man enough for marriage?  I knew our family had been an imperfect example of a Christian family; I knew at times I had let him down.  I knew at times his dad and step dad had let him down.  How would this affect his marriage?

I’d been down this rutted road of introspection about my parenting before.  When he graduated from high school I spent days maybe even weeks in deep thought about how there was so much more to teach him but  time had run out.  Emotions deep in my bones consumed me, I wanted time back, but that’s not the way it works, there are no do overs in life.  I did not want to let go.

When Ryan moved out of the house I was strong, trying with all my might to find happy words and attitudes to show I believed in him.  I watched him just a little closer observing his daily habits and making pictures in my mind to hold on to.  We packed up his room bickering at times about what was a keepsake and what was garbage.  An area we had never seen eye to eye on so I made a box of keepsakes knowing he would want them later in life.  I enjoyed the bitter sweet flavor of shopping with him for needed household items.  We strolled through Wal-Mart’s fine furniture section finding a desk and end table that would withstand young adult male treatment. There were bath towels and dishes to purchase and through it all I held a stiff upper lip that cemented my smile into place.
 
That was until I went grocery shopping at Safeway alone to fill up the cupboards in Ryan’s new kitchen.  There in the middle of a canned food isle the reality hit me like a tornado and my stiff upper lip started to quiver; I broke down and cried.  Tears ran down my cheeks and my nose ran; I was helpless to stop them as the reality of his not being at my kitchen table daily hit me hard.  I did not want to let go.  I wanted more time with my boy. 

I thought about walking Ryan to the local elementary school to sign him up for kindergarten.  I held on to his hand just a little tighter not really wanting to let go; enjoying the sensation of his small soft hand in mine.  The school secretary, pleasantly plump and smiling, asked for his birth certificate and I carefully place it on the cold, hard counter top, emotions welling up inside of me.  I did not want to let go.

My deep thoughts were interrupted by a friend who said how beautiful the wedding was and how beautiful the bride was and what a fine young man Ryan had grown into.  I smiled one of those deep, knowing, solemn smiles and said “thank you, it’s prayer and the grace of God that has made my son who he is.”   I heard my words like they were being spoken to me not by me and their truth resonated deep within my spirit. The truth is that prayer works, God is there and we are all imperfect.   Lessons are never completely taught we spend a life time learning them.  We all want more time and grieve over parenting mistakes, our children do have scars from imperfect homes, but God is there and prayer works.  Our lives were not perfect nor will they be.  Our children’s lives are not perfect nor will they be.   I looked at my son and saw through this knowledge that he is perfectly imperfect, a work of God’s hands, and a creation still in progress.

Letting go is not my favorite part of parenting, obviously I struggle with the concept for many different reasons.  However, the knowledge that God is actively working in my children’s lives comforts me and through prayer He helps me remember that I’m not releasing my children into a cold world without protection and this protection will help them in areas where they may not have been prepared fully for the challenge. 

Psalms 17:7 (NIV)  I call on you, O God, for you will answer me; give ear to me and hear my prayer.
Psalms 65:6 (NIV)  You answer us with awesome deeds of righteousness, O God our Savior, the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas.
Psalms 69:16 (NIV)  Answer me, O Lord, out of the goodness of your love; in your great mercy turn to me.
Psalms 86: 6-7 (NIV)  Hear my prayer, O Lord; listen to my cry for mercy.  In the day of my trouble I will call to you, for you will answer me.

 Quote: "The mother - child relationship is paradoxical and, in a sense, tragic.  It requires the most intense love on the mother's side, yet this very love must help the child grow away from the mother, and to become fully independent."  Erich Fromm

 Debora Shelford Hobbs

When storms of trouble thunder ‘or and hide all God has blessed                 

When fears of what might happen, destroy my peace and rest

As quickly as the clouds roll in, my faith turns dark with doubt     

I focus on the blinding pain and trials I can’t count

Then satan hits me when I’m down and says I’ve lost God’s love

He tells me I’m not good enough for blessings from above

But in those darkened moments the Spirit speaks so sweet

Reminding me of all the times God poured out love on me

The times that He protected, gave gifts, and answered prayer

Salvation for this hardened heart He gave without a care

It came to mind that God’s own Son hung lonely on the cross

That He too felt abandoned and lost from His own God

So as I walk this darkened path, I soon shall not forget

That something good will come of this and in that truth comes rest 

I cry to Him “I love you Lord, You've been so good to me"

And standing on the word of God, new strength and peace I see  

Refiner take this fire and burn away the chaff

Help me to shine like gold this day; fill me with thankfulness.

By Rhonda Shelford Jansen

The Ocean

The meandering path lined with tall, sharp, sea grass beckons to be followed.

Walking down the path a cool sea breeze envelopes my being and soothes my stressed body.

Pointing my nose into the breeze I inhale deeply the salty, fresh, air that holds memories of childhood, picnics, vacations, and playing in surf. 

My feet touch the grainy, warm, soft sand and sink deep into its gentle massage.  My toes wiggle in the sand content and happy to be out of my shoes.

Sitting with my back against an old gnarled log I wiggle until the sand is perfectly molded to me.

Closing my eyes I listen to the rhythm of the waves, my breathing becomes deep and slow in imitation.

God is here, I see him,

As vast as the sea is God.

As loud as the roar of the waves are my troubled thoughts.

As soothing as the dry warm sand wrapped around my feet is his spirit.

As tangled as the seaweed wrapped around the drift wood are my feelings.

As gentle or as mighty as the sea breeze, God is more.

By Debora Shelford Hobbs

“Am I ever going to outrun my past?” he asked with frustration,  “I'm a completely different person than I was... but just when I think the past is finally dead, I run into someone that knew me at my worst and they say something like"  "I can't believe you're still alive!"  "Sometimes when I'm in a group an old story comes up that puts my past on public display and I nearly drown in a wave of humiliation.  I want to look forward, not backward!  I am sick of it…I don’t want to be reminded of my past anymore.  I don’t want friends and acquaintances from my current life to even know about my past…it makes me feel like such an idiot!  It’s been years since I was like that…why won’t people just leave it alone? I just want to deny that my past was really a part of my life!”

I sat there wondering if he was actually asking for input or if the question was just rhetorical.  His eyes shifted to me mid-sentence and I could see I was expected to say something.  My mind raced to find a truthful but gentle reply and then I remembered to ask God for wisdom and for words that would glorify Him in that difficult moment.  I said, “We all have regrets and our mistakes are part of who we are.  They are undeniable; we cannot outrun them.   God knows everything we’ve ever done and He wants us to humbly submit our lives and allow Him to use our past… with all its pain.  Do you really think you’re the only one that has made mistakes like yours?  On the contrary, there are millions of people that have made the same mistakes and they need to know that there is redemption and hope for them too.  If you silence your story how will they know?"

Continuing on I said, "You're right to look forward and to continue changing but none of us should completely forget our past.  Remembering where we came from reminds us to be thankful for God's forgiveness and mercy.  It is His plan to use our mistakes for good…like taking beauty from ashes.  Just think of it,  God loved you in spite of sin and rebellion and  He reached out to you in the midst of sin…not after you appeared sinless.  I know it takes humility, because I too have regrets and shame from my past.  But…the past is part of us and has helped form our character, so why not be open about it and allow God to use it to touch others that are following our same troubled path.  We should be thoughtful about where and when to share our story just like Jesus was careful with whom he shared.  But... we must share our story when the opportunity presents itself. When you run into someone from the past and they ask how it is that you are still alive…seize that opportunity to share what God has done in your life.  What a way to make right the wrongs of the past.”

As I walked away, I thought to myself “Am I allowing God to use  the mistakes of my past to touch others?  Am I sharing how God has changed me and clothed me in love with young women that are struggling in the same way I did?”  I suddenly realized that the answer God gave me when talking with my friend was for me too.  And I understood that I too need to seize opportunities to share the grace that God has placed over my life in spite of the sin and rebellion of my past.

 By Rhonda Shelford Jansen

During the last few months life for my in-laws has changed radically.  They can no longer drive, both use walkers, both have mild dementia, and recently were moved into an assisted living community.  The poem below is inspired by their struggles with aging to the point of regression.


Once you were strong

    Determined

    In control

    Doing things by yourself

Once you were king of your castle

    Providing

    Protecting

    Guiding

Once you were busy

    Working

    Cleaning

    Gardening

Once you were involved

    With friends

    Church

    Neighbors

Once you were independent

    Driving

    Paying bills

    Planning activities

    Taking care of others

Now                                                                        

    Memories are sweet and seem more relevant than today

    You are confused by the world

    You wonder how you got so old

    You long to drive again and mow the grass

Yet enjoyment is found

    Taking care of your dog

    Visiting with anyone who will listen

    Eating

You still care for others

    By praying, you are always talking to God

    I know God is listening

   Thank you for taking care of us in your prayers.

Blinders tight around my eyes fell softly to the ground

Misguided heart, embraced in truth, now soft with chains unwound      

God’s patient love and tender word revealed to me this day       

That unbeknownst to this poor soul; Pride took humbles' place

I thought it my commission to bring justice, truth, and light  

To strive for plans and goals, until they were in sight         

 I had no ear to hear or see, that maybe it was I

That needed to lay down my way, for it had changed to pride

It’s not that knowledge, plans, and goals, in themselves are wrong

And sharing truth with love and grace brings honor to our God

The key’s to go about it with humility and love

Releasing all the outcomes to our One and only God

For even when our plans are right… we can still be wrong

When we force and use control, to ensure OUR will is done

For He controls the outcomes of all we say and do

And if Things go not as we plan, then humility will do

A humble heart that’s full of grace will wash away the pride

And keep a heart at rest, even when there’s strife

God wants to know that we hold loose to things that we desire 

And trust Him without waver, if our plans go awry.

By Rhonda Shelford Jansen

A few days ago I watched a prayer vigil for the victims of the Aurora, Colorado Massacre and was deeply touched by the honest, purposeful, thoughtful, and compassionate prayers and speeches that were given on behalf of the victims, their families, friends, neighbors, and the city of Aurora.   The main theme that ran through the vigil was “we will not let evil win” and in his or her own way each speaker encouraged viewers to focus on healing and the good that can and will come from this  crime. 

Each speaker deliberately spent little time talking about the man who committed this meaningless act of violence choosing instead to talk about the trauma the victims experienced and how God’s loving hand and a supportive community will help them move forward in the healing process.  I think Genesis 50:20 sums up the Vigil’s message, “you intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives”. 

It is impossible to understand the depth of pain this heinous crime has caused and it’s equally impossible to calculate the number of people who will be dealing with emotional scars.  We know the 70 victims and everyone present at the theater that fateful night will have issues feeling secure in public spaces, but I believe it doesn’t stop there.  Relatives, friends, and neighbors, citizens of Aurora and compassionate people all over the country will be struggling with thoughts that say “what if there is another crazy person out there”?

That is why I was so touched by the Prayer Vigil and its focus on healing.  I believe there is power embedded within the acts of encouraging, helping, caring and praying for others who are suffering.  I believe each time honest compassion is given to victims of violence the power of evil is lessened and God takes that which was meant for harm and turns it into good.

The Prayer Vigil was a first step in encouraging the county to focus on what is ahead not what's behind; to focus on healing not the senseless act of violence.  It reminds us to move forward in our prayers and thinking because moving ahead in our prayers and thinking will help the victims heal.  So, today when you hear another news story about the perpetrator stop and pray for the recovery of the victims, this is a great way to help in their healing.

Debora Shelford Hobbs

The love of God, comes like the dawn and overwhelms the night

It reaches to the deepest depth and to the highest high

It reaches far and wider than our minds can comprehend

And will not fail no matter what, for His love has no end

No trial, pain, nor sin, or shame, can wash away the truth

That as we humbly bow to Him, His love renews our youth

His love will free the broken heart and heal the wounded soul

Take beauty out of ashes, grow hope, and make us whole.

So focus not on wrong you’ve done nor pain that you’ve endured

But place your hope and eyes on Him; of His love be assured

Rhonda Shelford Jansen

With our concern for their safety and the safety of others increasing we readdressed the driving issue last winter.  We emphasized our fear that they could hurt an innocent driver or even a pedestrian.  “What if a five year old ran into the street chasing a ball, could you stop in time”?   My father in-law humbly agreed that this was an issue for some, but not him.  He informed us that he hadn’t been in an accident in over 30 years, was our driving record that good?   He then adjusting his tone and body language to a ridged and authoritative posture preparing to let us know he was more than capable of making that decision for himself.  Once again, being chickens, we reluctantly let the issue drop.

Throughout the spring my husband and I talked frequently about the danger his parents presented on the road.   We spent many of our evening walks brain-storming about cleaver, sincere, or in-your-face scenarios that would convince them to willingly stop driving.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t come up with even one reasonable and somewhat painless plan.  Spring moved on.

A few weeks ago my husband took his dad on a trip and during this trip my father in-law let it slip that he sees double, frequently.   He said, “Sometime I see four yellow lines instead of two but if I closes one eye I just see two yellow lines”.   So, we have an old man with limited body movement, response time, and hearing, driving around seeing double, but not to worry because he can close one eye and everything is ok, good to go, no worries. 

At that exact moment my husband knew no matter how much anger, frustration, disappointment, or guilt my in-laws displayed he had no choice but to drive the car away.   They knew something was up and started asking about the car the very next day.  Rather than beat around the bush my husband just straight up said, “You will not be getting the car back, you can’t drive any more”.   My mother in-law understood the situation right  away and confided in me that she knew daddy shouldn’t be driving any longer however, once her hip was better she would be able to drive. 

My father in-law ,in confidence, let me know that he knew momma shouldn’t drive any longer however, once his double vision problem was fixed he’d be good as gold to drive.  I kindly replied that neither would be driving, he shook his head and walked away.  A few days ago he let me know that he was fine not driving for now, but as soon as the doctor gave him the ok, he’d be driving again.  I just smiled, knowing the doctor would never give him the ok to drive. 

Today my father in-law requested that I accompany him to a doctor’s appointment to help him understand and hear what the doctor would be talking about.  He also needed me to help clarify his questions for the doctor.  While discussing some health concerns he managed to maneuver the topic of driving into the conversation.   He said he wasn’t driving now but as soon as his double vision problem was fixed he’d be driving again.  The doc said, “You can’t drive Jim, you’re too slow” to which my father in-law restated that once his eyes were fixed he’d be good to drive.  The doc again said, “You can’t drive Jim, your reaction time is too slow”.  My father in-law stared at him for a moment then shook his head and looked down at the floor.  For the first time since we took the car away I think he understood that he would never drive again, and it hurt.

In our society driving is what adults do.  Driving is intertwined with our identity and gives us the autonomy craved by most Americans.  So, when my father in-law understood that he would never drive again part of his world and self image was taken from him.  My heart aches for my in-laws, how difficult it must be to age past adulthood into post-adulthood where you no longer drive, walk without assistance, live in your own home, or shower by yourself.   How hard is it to watch your children, who your raised, take away your car?   And how hard is it to be the child taking away the keys?

If you, like my husband and I, are dealing with aging parents I pray God will give you the patience and grace to treat them with respect and the courage to know when you have to be strong.  We waited too long to take the car away and I believe it is a miracle that they didn’t hurt themselves or someone else.  Please stand strong when you know the time has come and protect your loved ones by taking their keys way.

Debora Shelford Hobbs

Tiny fingers newly formed wrap gently around my pinky.
    I’m amazed at their delicate perfection and I stroke them softly.

Pudgy little fingers power grip mine as toddler feet learn to navigate the world, one step in front of the other.
    I’m amazed at the determination conveyed through your grip and I curl my fingers to steady you.

Your warm, firm palm presses close to mine while we walk down the sterile school hallway; it’s your first day of kindergarten. 
    I squeeze your hand tight not wanting to let go... ever.  I squeeze tight as if I can pass all the courage your life will need through this act.  I lift your hand and kiss it.

A careful hand guides a pencil across wide rule school paper diligently copying each spelling word.
    I marvel at the competency of those little hands and wonder what great accomplishments they         will have in the future.

Your two hands encase mine offering comfort and encouragement; they are only a touch smaller than mine now. “You can do it mom” riding a roller coaster is terrifying to me.
    I glimpse the compassionate young man you are becoming and my heart swells with appreciation.

Hands larger than mine wave through the air as you demonstrate the proper way to throw a curve ball; each finger wrapped around it in just the right way.
    I observe strength and confidence in each movement and an eagerness to learn how to do it right; I want to will your success into being.  I want the world to be kind to you.

Triumphant hands pump the air then toss the graduation cap with gusto.  You shake hands, pat backs, and embrace all, but it’s the big bear hug that smashed my face into your chest while patting my back that brings me to tears. 
    My heart fills with a unique bitter sweet pride. I see the funny little boy, searching teen and confident man all at once and I want to hold on and let go, simultaneously.

A simple gold ring slides onto your finger and your hands hold hers in dedication.
    I pray that your hands will hold tight and never let go of hers, I pray you will remain a man of commitment.  I hope you will still hold my hand and hug me.

Tiny fingers newly formed wrap gently around your pinky.
    You’re amazed at their delicate perfection and stroke them softly.  I watch as a love deeper than words passes from you to her, and I smile.

Debora Kingston Hobbs

The grace of God pours down like rain, to wash away my guilt and shame.

The grace of God so undeserved, so free a gift that perseveres

Through all my fault and daily failing, through hardened heart and disobeying.

Why don’t You turn and run from me, why do You care to set me free?

From chains that tie me to the past and hardened heart that breaks like glass.

And when I fall and lose my way, You pick me up and gently say

Fear not my child, My love is true, it does not waver; though you do.

I’ll mold you into something new and bring new courage through and through.


O God to You I humbly bow, amazed by grace You give me now.

Your grace, it daily sets me free;  Your mercy, drops me to my knees

As I submit my will to You old strongholds fade like morning dew.

I’m overwhelmed, my mind is reeling, my heart is full with grace You’re giving.

Then dawns on me a fearful jest, that I hold grace tight to my chest.

I give it not to other souls, who fail like me without control.

But rather, judgment fills my heart; I hold contempt when they fall short

Forgetting all my sins and failing, I pound the gavel; pronounce them guilty

With pride filled heart I give no mercy.

How can this grace that I’ve been given be kept from those that need forgiving?

Forgive me God; help me to see that what I do is grieving thee.

Remind me when I am offended Your grace must always be extended

Grace isn’t mine to hold so dear but rather give without a fear

To make more room for grace from You to share Your love each day anew. 

By Rhonda Shelford Jansen

I’m sitting at my desk, computer on, IPod on, an inviting warm mug of coffee sitting next to the computer, they are waiting patiently for me to start work, but I don’t.  My feet are resting on the edge of my desk while I hold our big fat cat in my lap.  She contentedly purrs and occasionally nuzzles me on the chin.  Absently, I notice how her soft, heavy, weight in my lap feels comforting.  I continue to stare out the window lost in thought.

My chest feels heavy like an invisible brick is pushing down hard between my breasts, my head hurts, but it’s the heavy sensation on my chest that's disconcerting.  The weight isn’t the beginning of a heart attack it’s the result of years of hurt, it’s a brick carefully constructed by the fibrous tissue of judgment, verbal abuse, bitterness, unjust judgment, self protection, and un-forgiveness, and it’s heavy, pressing down on my sternum making it hard to breathe.

The unusual thing about this brick is that it’s frequently weightless as if gone from my life.  During this weightless time my home is peaceful and I have a moment to ponder and pray about my marriage.  Once again I choose to forgive, choose to lay my hurts down before God and set aside my right to hold harsh judgments so that nothing hinders my drawing closer to Him.

Then something happens to set off old patterns of abuse and hurtful words are hurled through the air and I feel the impact of them.   I feel them working their way into the brick, finding a comfortable resting place next to the other festering pain.  The brick is back, heavier than before, pressing mercilessly down on my sternum and I wonder how all those negative, hurtful , emotions from the past can come back with such force after I have chosen to forgive and let go of them. 

So, here I sit at my desk with every necessary tool for a productive day in front of me, but instead I’m watching the tree branches move to the rhythm of the wind while pondering the uncomfortable pressure of the emotional brick on my chest.  I want to know how to truly lay down the hurt from yesterday.  I want to forgive so deeply that past pain will not have the power to mix with and amplify the hurts of today.  But, I’m human and for some unknown reason God made us emotionally complex beings that feel passionately, struggle mightily with each other, and desperately need His guidance.

I’m grateful that God’s forgiveness is not like that of humans, Psalm 103:12 says, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions (sins) from us.”  This verse is comforting and humbling; how can God forgive so completely?  I long to be able to forgive like God, but as of today, I don’t fully understand how to forgive the transgressions of others.  Maybe that’s the point. Maybe our seriously limited ability to forgive keeps us humble before God. 

Debora Kingston Hobbs

Verbal, emotional, intellectual, and physical abuse destroy lives.  It is prevalent in the church almost as much as in the world. This is a poem that looks at one small part of abuse and its devastating effects.  It does not seek to advise whether or not a person should remain in an abusive relationship as that is an individual decision. Do not stay in a relationship if you are in physical danger.

Abused

The words, they sting... cut deep like knives

They weigh me down, I grope for life

In shrouds of pain, Lost... yet I fight.

I said please stop, don’t you see the damage

But plea's were lost on a heart like granite.

Who am I now, what was my calling

Do I have worth or am I dying?

Did my God have good plans for me

Something different, something free?

Will this cycle continue for generations

A legacy of abuse is what I’m living.

As tears fall down in pools of grief

I seek you God for wisdom and faith

For hope from You is what I need

A vision fresh and purpose clean.

A still small voice spoke gently and sweet:

No other idol shall be before Me.

Confusion wracked my weary mind

With doubting words to God I cried

What idol have I before you O God?

He said, The abuse that has broken your heart.

Abuse has told you who you are

It bound you in lies and played My part.

It wrapped you in fear and made your heart faint

It seeks to destroy you and fill you with hate.

But your name is precious, lovely, and honored

Your value is priceless... Know that I love you.

With abuse on the throne destruction will reign

When I’m on the throne true healing you’ll gain.

Take your eyes off abuse and the lies that it speaks

And fix them on Me, your Author and King.

When words of hurt fill up your ears

Hear them not my child, instead speak My Word.

They’re a Shield and a Sword,  a Rock of Pure Truth

They will teach you the way, they will show you your worth.

Unleashing pure beauty for the whole world to see

Place your hope and your eyes only on Me.

Rhonda Shelford Jansen 

The birth of a New Year has come and with it a renewed hope that we will do better this year.  A hope that our missteps and failures of last year can be erased by improving our preformance at work, play, relationships, and life with a New Year's Resolution.  These New Year Resolutions are a national preoccupation with talking heads on TV and radio spending several weeks hyper focused on the topic.  They ask probing questions like “Why do we make them”   “How long does the average person keep their resolution?”  “What type of resolutions do we make?”   Resolutions are honorable; they show an acknowledgement that someone has room to improve and a desire to take action toward it. 

The problem is, we often make lofty resolutions and end up failing within days. That’s why I have an aversion to the word “resolution” it has a fatal sound to me; it seems to imply that a person either accomplishes it or fails.  Since I dislike failure, I’ve made the conscience decision to replace the fatal New Year's Resolution with a list of reasonably attainable goals for the New Year.  A goal is something one strives to accomplish and the process of accomplishing it one is allowed a few set-backs and yes, even failure. 
 
So, I wrote down a few goals for the New Year and while pondering these goals I realized that each one is actually a byproduct of discipline.  Three goals I’ve made are to add one more day of yoga a week to my schedule, read my Bible consistently, and to write every day.  These are not exciting or daunting goals and yet I will struggle with each one because it is so easy to get wrapped up in the attention seeking demands of each day and tasks that can be easily postponed, will be.

After contemplating how I can be successful at accomplishing my three simple goals I had an epiphany, my goal should be to practice more self discipline in all I do.  I don’t need to work at attending one more day of yoga, I need to write it down on my calendar and stick to it.  I need to discipline myself to make reading my Bible a priority, not something I squeeze in when there is time.  I need to discipline myself to write every day, as the Nike ads say; I need to “Just Do IT.”

Sometime ago while listening to the radio I heard two authors talk about a radical new idea in parenting and I felt like someone was hitting me over the head with the "obvious" that had been obscured from my understanding for years.  They said something like this, “self esteem should not be the goal when parenting because it is the byproduct of self discipline.  Parents should concentrate on teaching self discipline because self discipline will bring about success and success will bring about true positive self esteem.”  Now, that is powerful and Biblical and it applies to adults too.

Even in the parts of our lives that are emotionally driven self discipline plays a significant part.  I don’t always feel loving towards my spouse, but I do choose to love him; the act of choosing is employing self discipline.  I don’t always want to forgive someone who has hurt me, but I know God tells us to forgive, so I pray for God’s help and choose to forgive.  And this fact brings me to the thought that I couldn’t possible understand the power and depths of forgiveness if God through Jesus had not graciously forgiven me. 

So, I’ve chosen to replace unattainable New Year Resolutions with the process of setting reasonable and attainable goals.  Then I decided to replace my reasonable goals with one year long, actually a lifelong, goal to employ more self discipline every day. I like this goal and feel confident I will improve the level of self discipline in my life even though at times it will be very hard.

Debora Kingston Hobbs

I love the fourth of July and in my small town we really know how to celebrate the birth of our great country.  The town decorates its self in red, white, and blue with flags waving from every business  and light-posts are dripping with lush hanging flower pots.  Community organizations work all year preparing for the hour long parade that marches down Main Street and happily includes any organization, group, or persons who want to participate.  The parade route ends near Marina Park where the community stage has live music playing all day and the grassy park next to it is transformed into the Farmers Market teaming with fresh fruit, flower, and vegetables.  Artesian display their handmade jewelry, pottery, and crafts while families with children and pets wonder around absorbing the ambiance.

Just up the street from Marina Park is a community multipurpose field that officially becomes Tiny Town during the Fourth of July bash.  Tiny Town is jam-packed with a blow-up slide, bouncy house, ball house, kiddy cars, face painting, and free arts and crafts.  Surrounding the field are booths sponsored by sports clubs, school organizations, and the Boy & Girl Scouts all selling cotton candy, pop corn, soda, and ice cream.  In the back corner of the field is a base ball diamond that becomes the Pony Ride where unhappy looking ponies tethered to a metal post walk drearily round and round while little children frown and cry when the ride ends after two rotations, and this is where my story starts. 

Wanting to share the joys of Tiny Town with my Grandchildren my husband and I loaded them into their car seats and headed down to Tiny Town.  Amazed by our good luck at finding a parking space right next to the back corner of the field we unloaded our energized grandkids.  Holding hands and talking about all the fun activities that await them, we naively headed down the trail that dumps out next to the pony ride.  My granddaughter immediately started pulling me towards the unhappy ponies; I pulled in the other direction.  I quickly noticed the sign hanging lopsidedly from the dilapidated corral fence; it said $6.00 a ride.  Now, some may call me cheap, but $6.00 for a less than inspiring ride on a depressed pony didn’t sound like fun and in my opinion would not be money well spent.  I quickly added the second grandchild into the equation, $12.00 for a two loop ride; not happening.

My granddaughter looked at me with her sweetest smile and said, “Please, I really want to ride the ponies.”  I smiled sweetly right back at her and excitedly pointed out all the other activities she would be doing.  My smile was returned with a frown and then one more round of ‘Please, I never get to ride ponies.”  Above Audrey's head my husband gave me a roll-of-the-eyes and we headed over to the arts and crafts where the grandchild painted wooden bird houses bright colors.  Breaking her creative concentration ever-so-often, Audrey would lift her head just long enough to once again plead for the pony ride. 

We moved on to the blow up activities where they slid down the slide, jumped in the ball pit,  bounced in the bouncy house, and climbed through an obstacle course.  In between activities I would hear a new version of the Pony Plead; my response remained the same, it now became a matter of the will; I needed to win.  With their hair full of static electricity we headed the grandkids back to the arts and crafts booths to decorate vinyl visors.  Audrey found a large pincess sticker covered with glitter, she had to have it, and placed it directly in the middle of the visor then surrounded it with flower and butterfly stickers.  She then placed the visor on her head upside down so it looked like a glittery, brightly colored, princess visor/crown.  The day was over and we headed back to the car, the only problem was we had to pass the pony ride one more time.  I set my resolve and moved forward. 

Audrey, assessing the situation and realizing this was her last opportunity to persuade Grandma into seeing her side of the debate, pulled out the largest weapon she could think of.  Stepping in front of me and looking directly into my eyes, she said with passion, “Grammy, if you don’t let me ride the ponies I will never visit you again.”  That face will forever be etched in my mind, eyes filled with determination, mouth set tight and firm while her hair flew from static electricity and remnants of treats circled her mouth all topped off with the princess visor-crown.   Suppressing an amused smile I calmly said, “ I’ve raised three boys honey, that won’t work’”   She tightened her lips and assessed me to see if there was any chink in my armor, nope, she sighed and walked to the car, defeated.

Over the last few months I have watched the news dismayed at how so many of the politicians, Republicans or Democrats, sound like my granddaughter.  They look straight into the camera and say the most drastic and disturbing thing they can to get the American people worked up.  If the response is not what they want or the opinion polls suggest a need to redirect, they do so, and once again appeal to the American people to see things their way.   This process is repeated weekly, sometimes daily, and I’m tired of it.

I tired of listening to the politicians speak with passion saying "It's not a tax" when it's a tax or accusing one of lieing while they lie.  It seems to be impossible for the American people to know what truth is when it comes to politics because for every absolute truth spoken by a Democrat an opposit
absolute truth is spoken by a Republican.  So, who do we believe?

It's not just the polititicans I'm fed up with, I'm tired of hearing people in my community simply being a conduet for the news channels or worse hearing them repeat what a commedian said as if he/she has some great political insight.  Wake up people, care enough to do some research.  Care enough to know even a little about what you speak don't just repeat what the talking heads said today, like the polititicans they will most likely change their tune by tomorrow or next week.
 
At times, I think I can see the princess visor/crown on their heads and remnants of past lies circling their mouths all the while pleading with passion for what they want the American People to believe.  Let’s not give in!  I encourage you to read many sources of political information.  Listen to both Liberal and Conservative news so you can form an intelligent opinion and when the politicians start talking with their Princess visor/crowns on, stand firm in your convictions and knowledge, our country needs well informed involved citizens to make a difference.

 Debora Kingston Hobbs
 

The Unerutilized woman

Webster’s dictionary:  Underutilize - to utilize less than fully or below the potential use; to fail to utilize fully.

I know a woman who has it all.  She is tall, thin, smart, naturally beautiful with olive skin and long dark hair, and a college graduate.  As if this were not enough she also has two handsome, tall, athletic, smart, college bound sons.  Yet, she is underutilized.   I know this doesn’t make since, but it’s true.  How can a woman who has it all be underutilized?  The answer is she has hidden from her own potential most of her adult life.  How has she done this you ask? By allowing her mistakes, disappointments, fear, insecurity, and the negative life commandments spoken to her throughout her life to be the foundation she uses when making decisions.

Hiding behind the responsibility of parenting she has walked on the periphery of all social activity saying she was too busy to get involved.   She has neglected developing her creativity because it might take away from focusing on her children.  She has also neglected the development of friendships.  Socially she is reserved and slightly detached only allowing a few into her thoughts and this self-protection has contributed to her being an underutilized woman.

We are all born with potential to be creative, vital members of our society and it’s our responsibility to nurture this potential.  Throughout the Bible there are verses stating that it pleases God when we use our talents to help others, be creative, and contribute to our community.  However, life has a way of knocking us down, disappointments can make us bitter, and abuse whether verbal, physical, sexual, or religious, can take away our belief that we have something to offer others.  This is what happened to my friend.

During her life my friend has experienced many hardships, as a child she was sexually and verbally abused.  As a young college student she conceived her first child out of wedlock, having been brought up in a Christian home she felt great shame but determined to keep and love her child.  Eighteen months after her first child was born she married an energetic, ambitious, dynamic, and successful man and became pregnant almost immediately.  This marriage became verbally and physical abusive and she lived in fear for her children and her lives.  After five years she divorced him and moved back into her parent’s home broken and defeated.

A few years after the divorce she met a wonderful Christian man at church and they started dating.  After about eight months of dating she found herself pregnant once again.  Too ashamed to admit this to anyone she had an abortion.  The guilt she felt from the abortion led to resentment towards her boyfriend and soon they broke up.  Now, twelve years later we find my friend living with her parents, working low paying jobs, still bound to failure by the shame, hurts, and disappointments of the past.  Her one constant has been the unwavering dedication she has given her children, living vicariously through them while neglecting herself.

My friend has lost sight of her potential.  Without the deep rooted belief that she has something to offer the world she has lived an underutilized life.  She sees herself and the world around her through a lens of disappointment, insecurity, fear and defeat.  But God sees her as a beautiful woman full of promising potential and he wants to help her develop that potential so she will become a fully utilized woman.

God forgives our past and asks us to move forward holding onto his hand, clinging to his word and his promises.  As we move forward in Christ, God can and will use all our past mistakes, hurts and disappointments to help others; he will open up the flow of creativity and will help us forgive ourselves.  In his capable hands our lives will be created into lives that are fully utilized.  He will turn an underutilized woman into a fully utilized one.  We, as women need to let go of our past mistakes, accept God’s forgiveness as complete, forgive ourselves, and diligently use our talents to honor God.

Debora Kingston Hobbs

This awakening in our middle aged brains is replacing the once lackadaisical attitudes we had about life.  Our conversations that use to be laced with “someday I would like to” are being replaced by “I will be” “I must”  “I will find a way”  “now is the time” type of phrases.  

We are realizing that we must not procrastinate a moment  longer, now is the time to decide which items on our long "To Do Someday" list need to be done, now.  We no longer have years to ponder learning the guitar or a second language.   Hard gained wisdom tells us that waiting until life gets easier or less busy is futile, life doesn’t get easier.   Now is the time to respond to that gentle nudging in our spirits about volunteering at the local food bank, shelter, or elementary school.

This new heightened awareness of how short and temporal our lives are also brings about a renewed interest in relationships and religion.  We want our lives to have a purpose other than amassing wealth or impressive careers. I have talked with so many friends who are pondering old wounds within their biological families and are genuinely desiring to be an active part in healing that relationship.  Friends who never really talked about God are now wondering out loud about his love and forgiveness while talking about calling old friends they lost contact with or maybe visiting a church in the community.

While observing this collective awakening in my middle aged friends I realized that those of us in the middle years are becoming deeper more thoughtful and purposeful individuals.  We are working hard to fulfill our purpose in Christ whether it’s by deliberately seeking God’s face or by pondering why we are here and what legacy we will leave behind.  Sometimes fear is a good thing and I believe being 'scared to run out of time” is a blessing that will propel us forward into better humans and creations of God.

I like listening to my IPod while walking and last week I chose to listen to a Bonnie Raitt CD, one I had not listen to in a long time. We live by a marina and I usually get absorbed in the natural beauty surrounding the harbor while walking and don't really listen to the lyrics of the songs playing on my IPod.   But, While  walking last week  Bonnie Raitt's song titled Nick of Time came on and the lyrics so described these feelings that my friends and  I are having that I thought I would include them in this posting.  Below are the lyrics for  verse II and the chorus.

Bonnie Raitt; Nick of Time

Verse II
I see my folks, they're getting old, I watch their bodies change...
I know they see the same in me, And it makes us both feel strange...
No matter how you tell yourself, It's what we all go through...
Those eyes are pretty hard to take when they're staring' back at you.
Scared you'll run out of time.

Chorus
When did the choices get so hard?
With so much more at stake.
Life gets mighty precious when there's less of it to waste.
Hummmm...Scared she'll run out of time.

I would love to hear if you and your friends are experiencing this middle-aged awakening and what activities you feel are most important to accomplish.  If you have the time please leave a comment in the comment section.  Thanks

 Debora Kingston Hobbs