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The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is truly a wonderful story with characters that have many qualities and flaws. They are a lot like us, having character flaws that sometimes hinder their happiness. The story is a journey made by Dorothy and her dog, Toto, the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodsman and the Cowardly Lion.

The Tin Woodman was searching for a real heart. The Scarecrow reveals that he lacks a brain and desires above all else to have one. The Cowardly Lion believes that because he is
supposed to be “The Kings of Beasts,” his fear makes him inadequate. He does not understand that courage means acting in the face of fear, which he does frequently.

The journey is a long and dangerous one leading eventually to the Emerald City where they will find the Wizard of Oz. As they sojourn, they each expect the great Wizard to give them the one thing they most desire.

They find a yellow brick road, which is not complete in some parts, even being completely damaged in places by erosion. Sounds a lot like our own journeys.

In another version of the story, the yellow brick road goes through a forest of wild beasts, much like the imaginary beasts we face on life’s journey.

At the cornfield where Dorothy meets the Scarecrow, there is a fork in the Yellow Brick Road. They struggle to decide which of the three branches to take, and eventually find themselves at the Emerald City.

Each of us looks for our own “Wizard” hoping that the Wizard can grant us what we need and want. The road we travel may not be made of yellow brick, but it does lead us to forks in the road where we have to decide which way to go. There is danger along the way, and like the characters in the story, we respond with real heart, the brains we need to guide us, and courage that we exhibit even in the face of fear. May God bless you and lead you on your wonderful journey.

The First Nations people designate a person to be a Vision Keeper – one who hangs onto the vision of the people and holds it before the people even when things distract. Visioning is a gift, but I believe that the gift is available to all who will acknowledge it. Imagine your life without any vision at all, no dreams of a possible future, no hopes or expectations of brighter days ahead. Without vision, life would surely seem myopic and dull.

It has been said that where there is no vision, the people perish. I would add that if we do not have vision for our own lives, we may well perish. Certainly we will languish in the mundane experience of a visionless life.

So what is this vision stuff all about, anyway? Does it have any redeemable meaning for you or for me? I believe that it does. I believe that every being must find his or her vision of the world. And we must find our vision of the world with ourselves in it. What is our part in the world? Where does our life journey lead us? What means something to us? Who means the world to us? And how do we live that out?

Too many questions? Perhaps.

One thing is certain: you want to make sure that you are the Vision Keeper of your own life. You want to be sure that you are the person who defines what is important for you and who you have chosen to be inside your circle of friends and family.

You might be asking how that works in real life. For instance, how do we have the power to choose who is a part of our life? Is not that already determined by birth and by marriage?

The answer is in one word: boundaries. Regardless of who is in your life by circumstance, you choose the place they will hold in your life by creating personal boundaries. The concept can be hard to explain with words but much easier to illustrate graphically. Consider the graphic shown above.

It shows an illustration of a life with an inner core, with close relationships, and with peripheral relationships. Around the inner core is a solid line and around the other concentric circles there is no outline. That means that each of us has an inner core that is indestructible. No one can breach that inner core and harm us in any way because we are made to be whole persons with soul and spirit safely intact.

Conversely the circles representing close relationships and peripheral relationships are penetrable. The closer you allow a person in, the closer to your inner core, the easier it is for that person to harm you in some way. So you make the choices of placing positive people into your life circles. Or put another way, you create your own boundaries, always remembering that your inner core is ultimately safe and protected.

Creating personal boundaries in your life is a part of keeping the vision of your own life. It’s a healthy exercise to explore exactly who is in your life and what place they hold. From there you can create healthy personal boundaries and keep your vision for your life alive.

A friend of mine took this lovely picture of a sunset. He said this about it: “My payoff when I run to the top of this hill.” Because he is an avid exercise person, I knew exactly what he meant. Making it to the top of a hill is hard. It’s hard if you are a runner, a walker, a jogger or a bicyclist.

Getting to the top of a hill emotionally is also hard. But that’s what you must do when you hit bottom. Like most people, I have had the experience of hitting bottom many times over the years. It’s not a good place to be, and struggling to get yourself back up can be just as difficult.

My friend says that when you see that sunset on the hilltop, it’s worth it.

It’s also worth it when you can leave your rock-bottom existence and start the journey to the top where you feel stronger within yourself and more content with your life. So here’s to hilltops and sunsets of the soul!

(Photo by David Bazzel)

I came across a website today that featured motivational posters of quotes from Star Trek’s Mr. Spock. They were indeed motivational and some were downright inspiring. This is one of the most inspiring:

History is replete with turning points. You must have faith that the universe will unfold as it should.

All of us have a history of turning points throughout life. Often we wonder about each one, concerned that it was a wrong turn for us. Yet, life went on and we survived the change. Fearing turning points is damaging to one’s spirit. We cannot avoid them, and most of the time, we cannot change their course.

That’s where faith becomes so important, faith that our universe will unfold as it should. The Bible has a great deal to say about faith. One of my favorites is found in the Gospel of Matthew.

Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

Matthew 17:20. New International Version

I pray for that kind of faith . . . strong, persevering, confident. That kind of faith will get me through every turning point in life, and for that I am truly grateful.

“Nothing will be impossible for you.”

I find inspiration in this quotation by Edwin Muir.

Reality or vision, this we have seen. If it had lasted but another moment it might have held forever! But the world rolled back into its place, and we are here. And all that radiance lies forlorn, as if it had never stirred.
– From “The Transfiguration” Edwin Muir

When confusion rages within us and our anger releases its fury, then our time has come for withdrawing to holy places. For there, the days and nights of our inner chaos can transform. Yet, even in holy moments, we may find nothing. We may feel nothing but our own emptiness. We may well see only life’s cruel reality before us . . . illness, worry, loneliness, financial hardship, far from a personal transfiguration.

But we may just find our true selves, or see the face of God and the face of hope.

The Psalmist speaks of going up to the mountain of the Lord.

Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord?
Who may stand in his holy place?
The one who has clean hands and a pure heart . . .

Psalm 24:3-4 (New International Version)

Having clean hands and a pure heart may not be easy for us. We deal with our own imperfections and we constantly find within ourselves flaws of various kinds. So we must find moments of worship and contemplation. We must find the inspiration that can lead to our own transfiguration. We must find ourselves ever nearer to the God of holiness.

So let us keep holy moments, that the presence of God’s Spirit might dwell with us in double measure. Let us worship on God’s holy mountain, seeking transformation. There we shall see the light of glory and, with great joy, behold on the mountain peak the purest light of all.

And then, with hope in our hearts, we shall move with courage toward an even greater glory.

One of my favorite things to do is water my flowers and enjoy watching them grow. The blooms and the new growth on my ferns make me very happy and content. Caring for my flowers is peaceful. Except for those pesky gnats! Today as I set out new chrysanthemums, the gnats were all over my face. I felt literally under a gnat attack!

Life is kind of like that sometimes. Just when you’re feeling peaceful and content, an everyday aggravation disturbs your peace. It can be a simple disturbance or it could be a more serious personal attack. The most important task is discovering ways to maintain your peace and contentment.

Getting angry doesn’t help. Becoming despondent is not productive. Focussing your every thought on those things that rob your peace just makes everything worse. but there is a way to stay in the center of peace even when circumstances assail you. It’s found in the words of the prophet Isaiah.

Isaiah 26:3 (New International Version)

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.

Gnats are tiny and trivial pests. They cannot really steal your peace. But when something seriously attacks your peace, you can do what the old spiritual says, “Keep your mind stayed on Jesus.”

Exactly one year ago on this day, my brother Andrew posted my status on Facebook. He called it a good news/bad news status. The good news is that I was finally getting out of the hospital. The bad news is that I would begin dialysis. I left with a wheelchair because I was too weak and wobbly to walk. Fred had to give me constant care. It was a very low time for both of us.

I remember wondering if I would ever again have the strength to care for myself. But I was blessed with a wonderful physical therapist who came twice a week and another aide who came to bathe me. Every movement was a major effort, but at least I had regained most of my cognitive ability. I was able to recognize people and answer the usual questions: Who is the president of the United States? What year is this? Do you know who I am?

It was a beginning, and I was grateful for the progress, no matter how slight. Still, I was afraid and I worried about my ability to get back to some normalcy.

John Michael Talbott wrote a song that meant so much during that fearful time:

Be not afraid.
I go before you always.
Come follow me, and
I will give you rest.

If you pass through raging waters in the sea, you shall not drown.
If you walk amid the burning flames, you shall not be harmed.
If you stand before the power of hell and death is at your side, know that
I am with you through it all.

And the scripture that kept coming to be mind was Psalm 56:3 (New English Translation).

When I am afraid, I will trust in you.

For years, I was the mother of a 17-year-old Cocker Spaniel named Courtney. She was a dear part of our family and I learned a great deal from her. The life lessons she taught me were invaluable, especially in her later years when various parts of her body began to fail.

We rarely consider the many things we can learn from our pets. Here are some of the life lessons Courtney taught me.

– When it becomes impossible to jump off of your chair on your own, bark for someone to help you. What a great lesson about learning to allow yourself to depend on other people when you need help. Most of us are stubbornly independent and try to refrain from asking anyone to help us. The reality is that every person needs help once in a while and we should learn to ask for it. The person we have asked will likely feel honored that we trusted him or her enough to ask.

– Wagging your tail as fast as you possibly can is an effective way to let a person know how ecstatic you are to see them. For us humans, it wouldn’t hurt to find ways to let our friends and family know just how happy we are to see them.

– I can be finicky about food if I want to. A 17-year-old puppy does get finicky in her later years. Not a bad rule to follow for us either. Being careful about what we eat and how much we eat is a good habit. And if we’ve had enough, it’s time to stop.

– Barking at someone you do not want to be around is my privilege. Perhaps we humans don’t bark (usually) but it’s not a bad idea to determine who we want to be around and find ways to discourage persons that are not good for us. It’s all about creating boundaries and learning who enhances our life and who harms it. Those who harm our lives deserve a good barking at now and then.

– I know I sleep most of the time, but it’s so darn relaxing. There comes a time when humans need to think clearly about getting the rest we need and refusing to push ourselves past where we need to go when we work. Rest and relaxation is important in one’s life and we need to determine how much rest we need.

– I know I will only chase the ball you throw a couple of times these days. So what? It’s important for humans to remember how to play and to find those things in life that are play, not work. Even if we cannot do as much as we used to. It’s a good habit to “pitch the ball around” even if it’s only twice.

Well, those are just a few lessons I learned from Courtney, but they are lessons that I will apply to my own life. They are lessons about self-determination, honesty, openness, friendship, boundaries, relaxation, healthy lifestyle, love and loyalty.

Thanks, Lady Courtney. You have been a good teacher, a loving companion and a faithful friend.

I Know what it feels like to wander aimlessly through a purposeless life. I know all about tossing and turning in bed, trying to find a comfortable position, trying to erase the worries from my mind, trying to calm my heart. I know that if I had saved my tears over the years, I would have filled a tear bottle.

In the Bible, there is a beautiful Psalm that begins with fear of the writer’s enemies who apparently fight against him daily. He believes they will “swallow him up” and ends that passage with these words:

What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee. In God I will praise his word, in God I have put my trust; I will not fear what flesh can do unto me. Every day they wrest my words: all their thoughts are against me for evil. They gather themselves together, they hide themselves, they mark my steps, when they wait for my soul. Shall they escape by iniquity? In thine anger cast down the people, O God.

And then the psalmist writes the most beautiful passage of all when he says to God, “You know my wandering. You know how I toss in my bed every night. And you put my tears in a bottle. So I put my trust in you, and will not be afraid what my enemies can do to me. You, O God, have delivered my soul from death. Will you also deliver my feet from falling that I may walk before you in the land of the living.”

Although I often wander aimlessly, although I know about tossing and turning in bed, trying to erase the worries from my mind. I know I have filled up a tear bottle over the years.

But I also have faith in God, and to God, I pray this prayer:

God of my Sorrow;

You have heard the fall of my tears.

God of compassion, Caress my deepest fears and embrace my heart.

You have known of my tossings in the night, of my wanderings.

You have caught my tears in your bottle of grief.

In your book you have recorded the longings of my soul.

When I cry out to you, O God of my life;

When I long for signs of your grace;

When my sin cries out for mercy; I will trust in you.

And I will not be afraid when evil assails,

Nor in darkness will I hide my face.

A Prayer based on Psalm 56

The world we live in is an amazing thing of beauty and wonder. It’s the big stuff of our lives. So I’m trying to convince myself not to sweat the small stuff. We paid dearly for a brand, spanking new refrigerator that was delivered yesterday. It was a fancy one, too, one that we purchased after much serious consideration. So today, we are sitting here with this fancy refrigerator full of ruined food. It didn’t work properly and a freezer and refrigerator full of food is lost.

I am fuming while the store tries to locate a technician. In the meantime, we had to put off a weekend trip waiting on the refrigerator outcome. So that’s “the small stuff” I am dealing with today.

So let me put it all in perspective for myself. Last year at this time I was in the hospital with a life-threatening infection. When I got over the worst of it, I could not care for myself. A wonderful therapist worked with me and helped me learn how to walk and write again. It was a slow and tedious process and just to get through daily activities, I had to have the help of a very special husband.

So this really is “small stuff” in the big scheme of my life. I thank God for the wonder of the earth and for ordinary days, even when things go wrong. And I’ll keep teaching myself not to sweat the small stuff.

Getting from the cocoon to the butterfly calls for a change in the insect’s very being. It can teach us a great deal about change when we realize that out of a dark, enfolding cocoon, a butterfly takes flight and experiences a new world. Leaving my home after 33 years was an enormously difficult life change. Moving from Little Rock, Arkansas to Macon, Georgia was quite a challenge.

Eckhart Tolle has said that although some changes look negative on the surface, perhaps space is being created in a person’s life so that something new and exciting can emerge. His words somewhat take the sting out of the process of change. It is not unusual for a person to resist change or dread it. Change can be difficult. Change can upset one’s equilibrium. Change can upset us when we have settled in to life’s status quo.

It is true that most of us fear change whether the change alters our work, our home, our family, our relationships or any part of life that has become comfortable. Here’s what happens. Just when were set in our ways, when we least expect it, life sets before us a challenge to test our courage to change. We usually fight it for all we’re worth, pretending that nothing has happened, insisting that we’re not ready, declaring that the change is not good for us or anyone else. We fight and resist until we learn the hard way that resisting does not stop the change.

What if we just allow ourselves to move with the flow and gently move into the change we dread? What if we had the strength of will to face a sudden change head on, without flinching or fighting? What if we let the change happen in us? What if we learn to look at change in the way Terry Pratchett describes in A Hat Full of Sky: the ability to see where we have been and where we are with new eyes and extra colors.

The truth is that change is growth. Change is a remedy against stagnancy. Change may well be a way to embrace something new that will eventually cause us to be more alive, more aware, more self-actualized and self-confident.

Each time we embrace change and make it through, we become stronger for it. When are willing to do something differently, to meet different people, to go to different places . . . even to embrace a self reborn, er are embracing change.

About two years ago, I went through a very painful life and career change. It was not a change I chose, but one that was forced upon me in a rather unfriendly manner. For a while, I honestly thought I could not survive it. I definitely did not see it as being something that was good for me.

To be honest, the change was NOT good for me in many ways. But two years later, I have found one way that it was good for me. I did not realize it but I had lost some of my creative spirit. The change forced me to either languish or to allow my creativity to be renewed and restored. I learned something about myself that was important to know. I learned, in spite of all the weeping and wailing, that I do have the courage to start over and that starting over is not so bad.

So I’m for looking deep within myself and finding the courage to embrace change when it comes. I hope you will do the same.

We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows.

1 Corinthians 13:12  -The Message Bible

Often I don’t see things clearly. Sometimes my spirit is low and I feel the beginnings of sadness. It is as if there is a fog hindering my vision, as if I am trying to see through a mist. Fortunately these times of sadness are infrequent for me. But in those times when I worry about what’s happening around me, the mist engulfs me.

God’s desire is for the fog to clear for us and for the sun to shine brightly over us. God wants us to see clearly, to know God in all of God’s glory.

They say that in every sunset there is a rainbow. I looked up the science behind this and found several very complex explanations, explanations that don’t make much sense to the general public.  Meteorologists understand the phenomenon. I just understand the sheer, magical beauty.

It’s better that way, because I can marvel at yet another of God’s astounding miracles. I can view the image of a divine portrait painting the sky in color, and give thanks to a creative God.

This is the same God who hears our every prayer and listens when we speak of our concerns. This is the same God that holds us close when we are troubled and reminds us again and again of the grace that restores our hope.

I’ll be on the lookout for the rainbow in the next sunset.

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

At times, God, this wilderness journey I call life becomes long and hard. There are stones in the road and mountains to climb. There are paths that seem to go on forever, leading nowhere.

And then there is the baggage I am carrying with me . . . heavy, cumbersome, oppressive, more burden than I can possibly haul around. How will I make this journey? Where will I find the strength to walk such rough roads and climb such steep pathways?

God of my long journey, where will I find streams of life-giving water in the desert? When will I make peace with the past and open my spirit to healing grace? When will I pick myself up from the dusty roadside and walk on to better days? When will my mourning turn to music?

Walk beside me when I must travel rough patches, God. Lead me, in sunshine and in shadow.

When my aloneness disheartens me, give me companions and friends.

Fill my soul with hope’s music and give me the heart to sing. Amen.

Victor Hugo spoke of meditating under the solemn night with a million stars to inspire. He wisely explained what he called “that mysterious transaction between the infinity of the soul and the infinity of the universe.” Meditation can happen anytime, of course. But there is something about a night sky that can take us to the shores of our spirit. There we can heal the soul of its wounds.

The sight of the stars moves us to dream, to hope, to contemplate all that is both well and troublesome within us. I can survive most any day, but the night has a certain power over me. In the darkness, I can either feel content knowing all is well, or I can feel despondent wondering when the light of day will come. The night can make us fearful. Yet written on a plaque at the Allegheny Observatory are inscribed the words, “We have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

So I want to learn to welcome the night as a more silent season of introspection and inspiration. I want to love sleepless nights, not dread them. I want to believe in the presence of God in my darkest hours.

If you find yourself dreading the night, meditate on the words of N.P. Willis, “There they stand, the innumerable stars, shining in order like a living hymn, written in light.”

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil,
for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Psalm 23:4 | NIV

I love the mountaintop where it’s bright and fresh and one feels on top of the world. But life cannot be all mountaintop experiences. There are valleys to cross, and sometimes they are dark valleys. The Bible speaks of the darkest valley, the valley of the shadow of death. People walk that valley in times of great trouble.

My husband walked that kind of valley a year ago when he thought he was losing me. He walked it alone. Certainly, there were caring people around, but the impending loss was so personal that he was walking the valley alone.

He got through it, and I like to think that God was walking beside him, comforting him with the rod and staff. Today, I am thankful that no matter how dark the valley we must walk, God is with us, comforting us with every step. Yes, valleys are low and they can be dark, but often there are streams of living water to refresh us on the journey.

There is glory on a mountaintop, but there is grace-filled comfort in a valley.

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Hebrews 11:1 KJV

Faith is not about magic. The world we live in is not a magical world of fairies, unicorns and genies. We cannot wish away our troubles and expect our life difficulties to magically disappear. Wishing upon stars, looking for fairy dust, rubbing a bottle that’s supposed contain a genie . . . We know all too well that those are remedies that do not change the course of our lives. That which really does alter the course of our lives is definitely not magic, but it is mystery and miracle. It is a treasure that God has given us. That is mystery and miracle.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed . . .

We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

From 2 Corinthians 4

Oh God, teach me to breath deeply in faith.  – Søren Kierkegaard

Sometimes you just can’t breathe. There is something so heavy on your heart that getting a deep breath is impossible. When I was a crisis counselor, I worked with hundreds of women who had been physically and/or sexually assaulted. As I sat with them in the hospital, the one statement they made most frequently was, “I can’t breathe.”

There is no easy remedy, but there is a way to find your breath again.  First of all, take several deep, slow, cleansing breaths as you sit in a quiet place. Say to yourself a brief prayer like the one by Kierkegard, Oh God, teach me to breathe deeply in faith.

For me, there is no better place to learn to breathe again than a beautiful place in God’s world. I would always choose the ocean with the warm breezes and the sound of the tide. If you need to breathe, find your own calming place, even if it is your own back yard, and begin to center yourself in faith. It works.

2 Peter 1:19 (NIV)

We also have the prophetic message as something completely reliable, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

Sometimes the heart is still and not filled with much joy. I have a friend who describes sad feelings by saying, “It hurts my heart.” I have always been able to identify with her statement, especially when my heart feels heavy. Sometimes several days pass, and through them all, I have a heavy heart. The causes are endless . . . worrying about my children and grandchildren, worrying about poor health, worrying about the cost of healthcare and prescription medications, simply worrying about the process of getting older and the toll it takes.

I know this . . . one can’t go long with a heavy heart. The heaviness has to lift and joy has to creep back in. The miracle of our faith is that it does happen. The heaviness dissipates and the heart, once again, experiences the feeling of hope.

I love the way the Bible describes it: “the day dawns and the morning star rises in your heart.”

Photo by Faith Hill

They who dwell in the ends of the earth stand in awe of Your signs; You make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy.  

– Psalm 65:8. NASV

I was reminded today of what was happening one year ago. I was hospitalized with viral meningitis, and was wondering what might happen next. I was placed on dialysis that week, an event that changed my life in a variety of ways. As one would expect, I felt despondent during that uncertain time.

Today, I am not uncertain. In fact, I am very certain of God’s presence and protection. Today, I am standing in awe of God’s world and the rising and setting of the sun. No matter what hardship life may bring, we can count on the rising and setting of the sun. It marks our days. It brings nature’s beauty to our attention. It helps us forget, even for a moment, those situations that so beset us. It minimizes the troubles that scar our spirit. It reminds us every day that God’s mercy is eternal and that God’s grace is given to us as a gift.

With the dawn and the sunset, may we shout for joy in praise to a gracious God.