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The weather has been dreary and rainy for several days. Looking out the window reminds one more of winter than fall. There is none of that October’s bright blue weather that marks the autumn season. Leaves are not changing colors yer. It has been drizzling rain all day and all night. My husband says, “It’s not really raining. There’s just rain in the air.” Even more disconcerting is that Accuweather doesn’t forecast the least chance of sunshine for over a week.

Weather can be a bit depressing at times, especially if you want to be outdoors in the sunshine planting pansies and mums, walking through a corn maze, or browsing a pumpkin patch.

Research seems to confirm the weather’s effect on a person’s mood. For instance, researcher Marie Connolly (2013) found that women who were interviewed on days “with more rain . . . reported statistically and substantively decreasing life satisfaction.” On days with lower temperatures and no rain, the same subjects reported higher life satisfaction.

There are so many things that cause us to have situational depression, and many of them are serious. The weather should not be one of them. People often say, “Get over it!” Where the weather is concerned, that might not be bad advice. The weather is as changeable as the moments in a day. I believe that we can just accept the weather we are having, find it within ourselves to embrace the changeable weather, and chalk it up to God’s marvelous and complex earth.

Still, the Psalmist shares the remedy for depression. He acknowledges it as real, and he hints at the seriousness of a soul that is cast down. But he also admonishes us to hope in God, a God who knows our emotions, cares about our souls, and offers us fresh hope no matter what the weather does.

Why are you downcast, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I again shall praise him, my Savior and my God. – Psalm 42:11

After he was cut by his high school basketball team, he went home, locked himself in his room, and cried. Even Michael Jordan knew what it felt like to fail. As a teenager, Michael Jordan experienced a wounded soul. Oh, he probably prepared himself physically to try again, and he likely steeled his emotions to push himself to succeed, but I have a notion that without soul, he might never have become the superstar he was. He could not have made it with a crushed soul. Somewhere along the way he cared for his soul, and it healed from that early rejection.

It is very important that I learn to care for my soul, because it is the very center of who I am and who I may become. Care of the soul is not complicated, but neither is it easy. It takes alone time, time for meditation, time for self-reflection. It takes prayer and personal worship. It takes recognizing the beauty around me and breathing deeply. It takes avoiding the things that wound the soul . . . exposure to violence, noise, holding anger, seeking revenge, constant busy-ness.

In his book “Care of the Soul’, Thomas Moore says that “loss of soul” is a critical malady of the twentieth century. When we neglect our souls, the repercussions are “addictions, obsessions, violence, and loss of meaning.”

Caring for my soul is important for my spiritual, emotional and physical health. Caring for my soul is one of life’s necessities.

Macrina Wiederkehr shares a great deal of wisdom about the care of the soul. She writes about it in “Gold in Your Memories.”

There is a way that the soul can get crowded out of one’s day. The soul is a bit shy and does not demand center stage. She lives a life of her own, and yet there are soulprints in every fiber of your being, even in things you’ve forgotten. The soul is the keeper of memories. She knows where beauty is stored. She contains the memories of your entire life. Deep in your unconscious she stands guard. If you are in need of a particular memory she can reveal it to you and help you to bear both the beauty and the pain. She knows all about the gold in your memories. 

I plan to make one promise to myself: to make room in every day for the care of my soul. It really is important that I learn to listen to the song of my soul. It’s music directs my way and makes for a pleasant passage.

I am waiting excitedly for the next season, looking for cooler, brisker breezes, looking at the leaves on every tree for any sign of color change. Autumn is my favorite time of year, so I watch for the season to begin its grand display

The golds, the burgundies, the rust colors are all welcomed sights to me. So soon it will be a season in full force, with bonfires, hay rides, corn mazes, pumpkin patches, and nice warm cups of tea. Autumn is s comforting season, a time for getting ready to create new holiday memories around a thanksgiving feast.

Marina Wiederkehr writes of other kinds of seasons, the seasons of the heart. Her writing teaches us that there are seasons within our hearts, seasons that change as life changes. This is what she expresses:

The seasons of my heart change like the seasons of the fields. There are seasons of wonder and hope, seasons of suffering and love, seasons of healing. There are seasons of dying and rising, seasons of faith.
― Macrina Wiederkehr, “Seasons of Your Heart: Prayers and Reflections, Revised and Expanded”

I welcome the seasons of my heart as something that makes me know I am fully alive and completely engaged with my emotions and my spirituality. Knowing the changes of the heart’s seasons and embracing them as they come is a healthy state of being. Thanks be to God for a heart that is changeable and welcoming of every emotion.

“My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive, and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor and some style.”            – Maya Angelou

I have asked myself many times how I would survive end stage kidney disease. There were a few times when I actually believed I would not survive. In 2014, the picture for me was dismal, and on several occasions, which I have no memory of, my husband thought he had lost me.

Now, a year later, I am thriving. I am living life with a passion I never thought possible. I feel like I am a small miracle, and I am facing life with big hope.

I know the reason for all this. Without any doubt, I believe that my health is a product of prayer. When I got sick, I was serving on staff at New Millennium Church in Little Rock, Arkansas. That congregation, and my pastor, Wendell Griffen, literally prayed me to renewed health and new life. There are no words that can describe the many ways they cared for me. But they did something even greater for me. They modeled the power of prayer, something I believed in, but had little experience with.

I am convinced that my current relationship with God, one that I nurture every morning, is a direct result of New Millennium’s faith and action. They taught me a lot about approaching God and abiding with God. When I moved away, and was without them, I did face a personal crisis of faith. In that time I learned a timeless truth, “When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.”

I often remember the text of the hymn, “Abide with Me.”

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see—
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

Please listen to this hymn on YouTube at this link:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?autoplay=1&v=i5nbq_VEea0

There’s no shame is feeling small, but it can feel uncomfortable. So many things in life diminish us, making us feel small and insignificant. Losing a job can do it. Being treated poorly in a relationship can do it. Retirement from a successful career can do it. Feeling small just happens sometimes. It helps me to remember this quote from Aeschylus, “From a small seed a mighty trunk may grow.”

I watched a hummingbird outside my kitchen window this morning. He is the smallest of the hummingbirds that come to our feeders. He is a beautiful hummingbird, clothed in green and black iridescent feathers.

Amazingly, hummingbirds flap their wings about 80 times per second, and their heart rate is 1,260 beats per minute. Hummingbirds can fly right, left, up, down, backwards, and even upside down. They are also able to hover by flapping their wings in a figure-8 pattern.

Hummingbirds are among the smallest of birds, most species measuring between three to five inches. In fact, the smallest is the bee hummingbird, which weighs less than a U.S. penny. And yet, the hummingbird makes perhaps the longest migratory journey of any bird in the world. At just over 3 in long, feisty Rufous hummingbirds travel 3,900-miles one-way.

There is a lesson here for those of us who have days when we feel small and insignificant. It’s a common feeling for those of us who once had busy, exciting careers, and now find retirement to be a bit difficult. I have heard some of my friends speak this kind of discontent in various ways . . . “I feel used.” “I feel discarded.” “I feel small.”

I definitely understand feeling small, which is why I love the wisdom of Immanuel Kant who said, “Look closely. The beautiful may be small.”

Today is my birthday. I don’t want to be alone. Instead, I want all of my friends around me for a grand party. That, of course, isn’t going to happen. But it did cause me to think about being alone, something I used to dread. These days, living far away from my son, my grandchildren and my long-time friends, I am learning how to be alone.

Sometimes, this journey we call life is a lonely one. It feels as if we are traveling alone, without a companion, without a comforter. What we hold inside remains silent, because we honestly believe that there is no one to hear us. The inner pain we sometimes experience remains hidden, because we believe that no one will listen to our laments. The journey can indeed be lonely.

But I love the words of Paul Tillich, who speaks of solitude as opposed to loneliness, who refers to aloneness as both pain and glory.

Language has created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone and the word solitude to express the glory of being alone.
― Paul Tillich

How do we find the glory of being alone, that state of being that welcomes solitude as a way to better know ourselves and to more fully draw near to God? I believe it takes time, a bit of discipline, and a great deal of prayer. With that, we will find that solitude is a cherished way to be, a way to grow and change from inside the depths of our soul.

Though we often feel we need another person to talk to, perhaps we don’t, at least sometimes. Being alone can be important. It can be that glorious time when we feel at peace with ourselves and we can speak without voice.

Paul Tillich wrote:

We can speak without voice to the trees and the clouds and the waves of the sea. Without words, they respond through the rustling of leaves and the moving of clouds and the murmuring of the sea.

We have to be alone, in solitude, to hear it . . . the rustling of leaves, the moving of clouds, the murmuring of the sea. That is the glory of being alone.

My lips shall greatly rejoice when I sing unto thee; and my soul, which thou hast redeemed.  – Psalm 71:23 KJV

What does it really mean for the soul to sing? It’s obviously more than a vocal act. It is more than rejoicing with our lips. It is a song that arises from the very depths of our spiritual center. It doesn’t require singing on key or having a beautiful, clear tone. It has to do only with the soul.

I recall the words of the great hymn of faith:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee. How great Thou art! How great Thou art!

The song of the soul is almost too much for our finite minds to comprehend. I doubt that we do it often. Rather, we are too often occupied with the very things that steal our music. Worry. Frustration. Despondency. Overwork. Anger. Fear . . .

The list could go on and on. But there is a remedy, an act that opens our soul and fills us with song. It is the act of prayer, prayer that includes talking to God, meditating on God, considering the works of God, leaning on the power of God, listening to God, waiting for the touch of the Spirit.

If we enter into that kind of prayer, our souls will sing.

O Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee. How great Thou art! How great Thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee. How great Thou art! How great Thou art!
Listen to “How Great Thou Art” on YouTube at this link: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=OC8484T7KyU&autoplay=1

Like many home dialysis patients, I have a care partner that I could never do without. A care partner is a special person who helps me with my at-home treatments and my health needs in general. It would be impossible to list all the ways that he supports me, but here are just a few:

He sets up my home dialysis equipment every night.
He helps me with the entire treatment.
He takes me to my dialysis center twice every month for checkups.
He runs our errands.
He picks up my medications, orders them, and fills my pill box every week.
He keeps up with all of my insurance details.
He washes our clothes.
He orders my dialysis supplies.
He cleans house.
He loves and supports me.

I was right. I simply cannot list all the ways my husband, Fred, supports and cares for me. In 2014, when I was extremely ill and in the hospital for over 50 days, he kept vigil at my bedside, while also handling every household task. He built hand railings in our house and installed safety bars in our shower for when I got home. He even cooked and served my meals.

How would I ever find the words to thank him for all he does?

I am shamelessly using this blog post to say, “Thank you. I love you more than life itself.”

Whenever you think of me and pray for my health, please pray for Fred, too. It takes an awful lot of his strength and energy to care for me.

I have been thinking that, in spite of my poor physical health, I am fortunate that, spiritually and emotionally, I am well. That thought brings to mind one of my favorite hymns, “It Is Well with My Soul.” The words of this hymn were born of tragedy.

Economic and Personal tragedies struck Horatio Spafford and his family in a way that could well have turned someone away from God, but Spafford took the tragedies of his life and turned them into a heartfelt expression that would become a beloved hymn. Spafford lived with his family in Chicago. He had earned a good living and made several investments in real estate. In 1871, he and his wife Anna lost their only son to Scarlet Fever. Then the Great Chicago Fire destroyed most of his real estate holdings.

About two years later, Spafford decided to take an overseas trip with his family. However, business matters kept him behind, so he sent his wife Anna and their four daughters ahead on the journey. The trip turned tragic when the ship they were on was struck by a large industrial ship, taking the lives of 226 passengers, including all four of the Spafford daughters, Annie, Bessie, Tanetta and Maggie. Horatio’s wife, Anna, survived. When she arrived in England, she sent a chilling telegram to her husband with only two words, “Saved Alone”.

It would be two years before Horatio would sail to England to rejoin his wife. While on the voyage across the ocean, he was made aware of the very spot where the accident had occurred, taking the lives of his four daughters. There he penned the words to the song, “It Is Well With My Soul.”

We are truly blessed if we can say, in spite of every life tragedy, it is well with my soul. I hope you will receive a blessing from reading some of the words of this hymn and listening to the YouTube version at the link below.

“It Is Well with My Soul”
Words by: Horatio Gates Spafford, 1873.
Music by: Philip Paul Bliss, 1876.

When peace, like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
“It is well, it is well with my soul”

It is well (it is well) with my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

And Lord haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=I8l6tuCRcAg&autoplay=1

Each morning, I begin my morning ritual of waking before dawn and watching the sunrise. It is the best part of my day, waiting for the fresh, new morning and watching for the brilliant rays of light rising in the east.

One of the philosophers I read often, the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius, reminds me of the beauty of the earth. His words can be found in a collection of personal writings known as the Meditations.

When I am feeling despondent or discouraged, the writings of Marcus Aurelius often lift me up to a better place emotionally. Not that any one person has all the answers to life’s questions, but his writing takes me to a place of introspection. And that is a healing place for me to be.

Lately, I have had concerns about my upcoming evaluation for a kidney transplant. I wonder where that might take me and how I will feel. I wonder about experiencing debilitating physical weakness again. In reality, I am worrying about something that is far into the future and might never happen.

A better way to live is found in the admonitions of Marcus Aurelius:

When you arise in the morning think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love . . . Dwell on the beauty of life.
― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

I don’t know about you, but I plan to do some life-giving things in the next few weeks:  1. Arise every morning thinking of what a privilege it is to be alive.  2. Think, enjoy and love as hard as I can.  3. Dwell on the beauty of life.
I think it’s a good plan for me. If you are feeling discouraged, meet God in the morning and watch for the sunrise. I’ll be doing the same.

Who made the great lights— His love endures forever.
the sun to govern the day, His love endures forever.

He is like the light of morning at sunrise on a cloudless morning, like the brightness after rain that brings grass from the earth.

Psalm 136:7-8; 2 Samuel 23:4

Anxiety is a reality of life. It can come upon you like a thief in the night, robbing you of your sense of well-being. I can name dozens of anxiety-producing circumstances in my life: my kidney disease, my son, my grandchildren, financial issues, my husband’s health. The list could go on and on.

Admittedly, the sources of anxiety are diminishing in a very real way, because my life has settled into a predictable and comfortable pattern. My anxiety is smaller because I have a village that supports me. My anxiety is less troublesome because I am slowly learning to lean on God more fully. My anxiety is less because I am learning how to enjoy nature and the simple things of life.

My anxiety is lessening because my previous career is over, and because of that, I have given up the feeling that I am responsible for changing the world, caring for every victim of violence, protecting every abused child, and making sure that perpetrators get what they deserve.

I lived most of my life under the delusion that I could actually do all of that, and every time I failed, anxiety took over my being. It was not a good way to live. Fortunately, those years are over, and in the past two years, I have learned the most valuable lesson of all, and it is found in the words of the Psalmist in the 94th Psalm.

If the Lord had not been my help,
my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.
When I thought, “My foot slips,”
your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up.
When the cares of my heart are many,
your consolations cheer my soul . . .
The Lord has become my stronghold,
and my God the rock of my refuge.

There is a beautiful hymn that speaks of hiding my soul in the cleft of the rock and of God’s hand covering me. You may want to listen to the hymn on YouTube at this link:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=8VtZjZOpIgU&autoplay=1

It’s easy to get what I call the doldrums. It’s not sadness. It’s not depression. It’s just doldrums, defined by Merrium-Webster as “a state or period in which there is no activity or improvement.” What causes the doldrums is a lack of real purpose, a situation that is very real for some retired people.

It can happen after a successful, busy career or a job that required a lot of energy. It happens when one’s energy is still in place, but there’s not anything specific to do with that energy. It can happen to a person who lived life as a driven, Type A personality, but now finds that the driven personality has nowhere to express itself.

If you’re thinking that I am talking about myself, that I have experienced the doldrums, you would be right. I stare them down every day, along with the voices that say, “you’re all washed up,” “you’re lazy,” “you’re of no further use.”

But there is an alternative to staring down the doldrums day in and day out. There is a satisfying life that is available to those who refuse to hear the “useless” voices. And that’s the life I choose for myself.

Instead of giving in to the feelings I have just described, I have chosen to fill my life with things I never had time for before, important things, life-giving things. And so I spend each day entering into a contemplative mode. I read the Scripture. I read poetry. I create art. I sit under trees. I grow flowers and plants. I listen to music. I listen to the wisdom of philosophers, and I write down my thoughts.

I must admit that these activities are way better than the doldrums. In fact, these activities have enabled me to take back my life from the prison of the daily grind where I spent my career. There is so much unique beauty in our world. I hope I will always see it in every tree and flower, every sunrise and sunset, every ocean and stream, every shower that leaves behind a rainbow. With all of that in my life, the doldrums don’t have a chance.

And one more thing is really important to remember, words of wisdom that come from the Bible:

Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might . . .
(Ecclesiastes 9:10 English Standard Version)

I love color. Think of how dull the world would be if there were no colors. Colors create emotions. Colors accent the beauty of things. Colors remind us of certain people.

When I see purple things, for instance, I think immediately about two special people who love the color purple, my granddaughter and my sister-in-law. I agree with them about purple. Purple is a color that is both joyful and serene, depending upon the hue. It’s a great color . . . the color of lilacs and lavender, sunsets and skies, violets and amethysts.

The rich beauty of purple always reminds me to be grateful that the world is so full of colors. And it makes me remember that colors are for our enjoyment and well-being, sometimes exciting us with splashes of vibrancy, and other times calming us with the soft hues of serenity.

Color can guide our moods and make us feel certain ways. I am thankful to God, the Creator, for the millions of colors that make up our beautiful world, the light and the dark, the soft and the vibrant.

Thankfulness reminds me of a verse in the Scripture that speaks of the Creator:

It is the LORD who created the stars, the Pleiades and Orion. He turns darkness into morning and day into night. He draws up water from the oceans and pours it down as rain on the land. The LORD is his name!  

(Amos 5:8 New Living Translation)

I have made it a habit to be thankful for at least one thing God created every day. The stars in the skies, darkness and morning, waters from the oceans, and rains that fall on the land.

Today I am thankful for purple, for the special people in my life who love purple, and for the breathtaking beauty of color. God has given us so many gifts. One of those gifts is color.

Blessed are those who trust in the LORD
and have made the LORD their hope and confidence.
They are like trees planted along a riverbank,
with roots that reach deep into the water.
Such trees are not bothered by the heat
or worried by long months of drought.
Their leaves stay green,
and they never stop producing fruit.
(Jeremiah 17:7-8 New Living Translation)

It would seem that trusting in God is not so difficult. It would seem logical to make God our hope and confidence. In this kind of world, placing our hope and confidence in God may be the only way to survive.

If we can do that, the Bible says, we will be like trees planted by streams of water, with deep roots reaching deep into the water. Our leaves will stay green. Dry seasons will not harm us, and we will continuously produce fruit.

The reality is, though, that trusting God really is difficult. It feels much easier to trust in our own ability to care for ourselves. It is human nature to want to control our own destiny, placing our trust in our own ability to thrive. As many stubborn toddlers often say, “I can do it by myself!”

“I can do it by myself,” has gotten me into many uncomfortably tight spots, and I have found myself perilously on my own. I can personally attest to the fact that trusting in God is far better for the soul.

Because of my kidney disease, I have no choice but to trust in God to bless my health. But there is much more in life that I think I can control all by myself. So my prayer is that I will make God my hope and confidence, that I will trust God with every part of my life, that I will put down roots deeply into the water, and that I will survive life’s droughts.

Meet me by the waters of the river. That’s where I’ll be.

I am not more faithful than when I was twenty.
I am filled with the same doubts and fears.
It’s just that now I live
Into my faith more than my doubts
And pray to walk with a heart wide open;
To live into the hope that love is eternal,
And allow the course of the river to carry me,
Instead of trying to swim upstream.
– Becca Stevens

Swimming upstream is difficult, but we have all tried to do it. As a metaphor of life, swimming upstream looks like working our fingers to the bone to accomplish something that is barely possible. I don’t know about you, but I know that I have done that many times for several of my obsessions.

I tried to breathe life into a struggling nonprofit organization for ten years. I tried to build a vibrant church with a group of weary people. I tried to squeeze funding out of the City of Little Rock far beyond where they were willing to go. I tried to get the City to reinstate the Little Rock Commission on Domestic Violence. I tried to get a family court judge to remove a child from the home of an abuser. I tried to host an annual black tie gala without any budget . . . just to name a few.

One could legitimately ask if I was crazy or just foolish. Many people actually did ask that. In a nutshell, I chose to swim upstream far too long. I had life jackets, lifeguards, and lifeboats all along the way. But nothing helped me finish the swim in victory. I just swam until I could swim no more. The breath in me was gone and the energy of my body was not far behind.

Finally . . . Finally, I am beginning to learn how to allow the course of the river carry me. And I am at last getting somewhere. Emotionally, I am being carried upstream by a healthier psyche. Physically, I have given in to inevitable kidney failure, but am learning to make peace with it and listen to what my body needs. Spiritually, I am allowing myself to be carried in God’s everlasting, protective arms.

The reality is that the words of Becca Stevens are true for me. I am not more faithful than I was when I was twenty. I am definitely filled with the same doubts and fears. But now I do live into my faith more than my doubts. Now I walk forward with my heart wide open and into the wonderful hope that love is eternal.

Most importantly, I am allowing myself to be carried by the natural course of the river. “Allow” is the important word here. I have given up swimming upstream, and at the same time, have allowed the river to carry me.

What’s all this about the river? Well, the river is a metaphor for being carried by God in loving, compassionate, protective arms.

River, river carry me on
Living river carry me on
River, river carry me on
To the place where I come from
(Lyrics by Peter Gabriel)

The eternal God is your dwelling place,
and underneath are the everlasting arms.

(Deuteronomy 33:27 Revised Standard Version

The longer I live, the more I need a safe dwelling place like the one described in this passage from Deuteronomy. Whether we like it or not, aging and illness bring various vulnerabilities. There are days when I feel weak, experiencing the pain of fibromyalgia. There are days of melancholy when I review ” all that could have been” in my life. There are days of loneliness when I miss the laughter of my grandchildren who live far away. There are days when I worry about my kidney disease and wonder how I will fare if I have a transplant.

There are days when I miss my career and wish I was still engaged in my life’s work of helping abused women and children. There are days when I simply feel discarded and useless.

But more than all of that, there are times when I feel literally held by a loving God, times when I am completely sure that underneath me are the everlasting arms. It is a true gift. It is a miracle to live in the throes of aging and illness, yet to fully know that God is your dwelling place. And so you rest in God’s everlasting arms.

Thanks be to God.

O God, whose arms are ever underneath my life, hold me safely. Let me be assured of your tender mercies that never fail. Let me know your grace as well as I know my own afflictions. Let me rest myself in your dwelling place, knowing that underneath me are the everlasting arms. To God, who is my very hope, I pray. Amen

Please enjoy listening to the beloved hymn, “Leaning On the Everlasting Arms” on YouTube:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TczxAvjCu4w&autoplay=1

My adult son needed some financial help this week. For the first time in his life, we were unable to help. Part of being retired and on social security means and that you can no longer finance all the things you once did. It is, at best, an adjustment. Saying no to your child is heartbreaking, at least for a mother. So I pray for my son and his family, hoping God will take care of them when I can’t. And I try to set myself up on a higher spiritual plane where hurts are smaller.

One of the ways to do that is to think about God’s amazing love for us, a love that makes life disappointments much more bearable. When I contemplate God’s love, I always think of one of my favorite hymns, “And Can It Be.” Some of the phrases move me beyond words:

“Amazing love! How can it be that Thou, my God, should die for me?”

“My chains fell off, my heart was free. I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.”

“Bold I approach the eternal throne, and claim the crown, through Christ my own.”

These are powerful thoughts about God’s amazing love, about our freedom, about our eternal dwelling place with God. My desire is that these thoughts would be part of my day-to-day journey, that the Spirit of God would influence every part of my life. It’s not so easy to do in the midst of life’s challenges and obstacles. We tend to focus on getting by the best we can and walking along on a very earthly realm.

If only I could, at least on occasion, rise beyond my worries, fears and disappointments. If only I could leave my son in the care of a loving God and not worry. If only I could truly experience God’s amazing love and all that it means.

I want to share with you the words of a wonderfully inspiring hymn and then a YouTube video of a very gifted pianist.

And can it be that I should gain
An int’rest in the Savior’s blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain?
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

He left His Father’s throne above,
So free, so infinite His grace;
Emptied Himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam’s helpless race:
’Tis mercy all, immense and free;
For, O my God, it found out me.

Long my imprisoned spirit lay
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray,
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine!
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness Divine,
Bold I approach the eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

Please enjoy “And Can It Be” on YouTube:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PtmZcuPCXo4

Like most people, I am busy living life . . . cooking, cleaning, dressing, writing, shopping, going . . . doing all the activities of daily living. I can get busy doing any of it, intent on whatever it is I am doing. But the Scripture stops me in my tracks when it says, “In Him we live and move and have our being.”

The God who made the world and all things in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands; nor is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all people life and breath and all things; and He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, that they would seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and have our being, as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we also are His children. (From Acts 17)

“In Him we live and move and have our being.” That makes for a different kind of life altogether.

So what does it mean to live and move and have our being in God? I am not at all sure what it means. I think I know what it doesn’t mean. It doesn’t mean living by just going through the motions. It doesn’t mean living in a solitary manner without sacred human interaction with others. It doesn’t mean living with no thought of God’s purpose for your life. It doesn’t mean struggling through life without communion with God and community with others.

And I do have some ideas on what it does mean . . . cherishing and nurturing every relationship, meditating on the goodness and mercy of God, praying with sincerity for yourself and others, enjoying the beauty God has placed all around you, living to praise God with all of your heart and soul, enjoying every God-given moment with reckless abandon.

Like everyone, I deal with annoying, mundane life challenges that have the power to bring me down if I let them. Instead, I choose to live on higher ground, where God is ever-present.

I love the hymn “Higher Ground.”

I’m pressing on the upward way,
New heights I’m gaining every day;
Still praying as I onward bound,
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

Lord, lift me up, and let me stand
By faith on Heaven’s tableland;
A higher plane than I have found,
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
Though some may dwell where these abound,
My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.

I want to live above the world,
Though Satan’s darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound,
The song of saints on higher ground.

I want to scale the utmost height
And catch a gleam of glory bright;
But still I’ll pray till heaven I’ve found,
Lord, lead me on to higher ground.

Enjoy this hymn on YouTube:
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=jYCkqCG933M&autoplay=1

In a very few days, I will reach my sixty-sixth birthday. It could well be time for me to stop dreaming and just retire and relax. But that does not sound so good to me. I still have a lot to do, mostly creative things.

Most of all, I want to keep dreaming. That’s not always easy to do, you know. Life sometimes gets in the way of dreams. I have avoided letting that happen.

I am almost finished with my first ever novel. That was a dream that I literally did not believe would come to pass. I have developed my daily blog to share with any person that cares to read it. I am studying the Bible, poets and philosophers every day, and it fuels my passion for dreams.

I am still doing a lot, but I have not yet changed the world. Oh, I tried hard throughout my life and career to save pieces of it, at least. But I failed many times.

But here’s what I really think. I think that as long as I have life and breath, I just ought to keep on dreaming. Who know where that might lead? I can believe one of two things about myself. I can believe that I am sick with unrelenting kidney failure and I need to sit and rest. Or I can believe that I am capable of going and doing, reading and studying, writing and gardening . . . I can believe that I am still capable of dreaming.

Harriet Tubman said this: Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.

I intend to keep on dreaming. I choose to believe that I have within me the strength, the patience and the passion to reach for the stars. I’m on the way to changing my world, and while I may not change the world, I will undoubtedly change myself.

One is never too old to dream dreams. So regardless of the passing of the years, I am dreaming still.

And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old shall dream dreams, your young shall see visions. (Joel:28)

The grass in my yard is lush and green. I love the lawn at my house. For almost thirty-two years I tried to grow a lawn in Little Rock, Arkansas. The soil is basically little rocks. Grass simply never took hold. I don’t miss that about Little Rock.

I do miss the Arkansas River, Riverfront Park, the River Market, the Clinton Library and Presidential Center, the wonderful bridges, and the two skylines of Little Rock and North Little Rock. I miss the magnificent restaurants. I miss Lily’s Dim Sum, YaYa’s, Star of India and Faded Rose.

I miss the way a citizen could address City Government and actually make progress. I miss the non-stop nonprofit galas. I miss the wonderful Arkansas Children’s Hospital. I miss the sound of Baptist Health Medical Center’s Med-Flight helicopters flying directly over my house day and night.

I miss my doctors and my dentist. I miss my pharmacist and my dialysis clinic. I miss New Millennium Church, its people, and my pastor, Wendell Griffen. I miss my long-time friends, my best friends forever, Marvin and Jennifer. I miss my son and my precious grandchildren. I miss my Japanese Maple tree, my patio, and my gourmet kitchen.

There! I’ve said it. Now let me get on with my life in Macon, Georgia, grateful for a wonderful place to live in a quiet neighborhood, and grateful, most of all, to be reunited with my extended family here and in Atlanta.

Thanks be to God.