Here’s my question and I really want/need some replies/scripture/thoughts.
Are all sins equal in God’s eyes?
I have used this theory for years and only now realize that I have no scripture to back it up. Help!
I know that people think murder is worse than gossip and homosexuality is the same as passing judgment but what does God think?
I have been concerned that the otters would not survive the season of hunters-with-new-guns, as I have not seen any sign of them in several days. This morning I spotted bubbles on the surface of one of the ponds, which is a good sign that an otter as been fishing recently, but no otters have I seen. I hope they have not gone on to the river as I know they soon will.
In This Spot
In this spot I have watched Heron, Egret, Ibis and water turtle compete for space and minnows.
In this spot I have listened to a thousand frogs compete for turf and female.
Today in this spot, surrounded by a cloud of my own breath, I strain and find only a handful of songbirds.
What will I find from this spot tomorrow?
Many years ago, after divorcing my husband and finally finishing college, I needed to support myself and my children. I was looking everywhere for work. This reminds me of something.
Anyway, I had littered the town with resumes and hounded many an innocent employer but there were no jobs to be found. Hey, this does remind me of something.
One afternoon, I was driving home disappointed and fussing at God when I saw a daycare center that I hadn’t noticed before. It was very plain to look at. I thought they should paint the exterior with murals or something to brighten it up.
God said, “Go back and ask them if you can paint a mural on their building.” I said, “What? They aren’t going to let me paint a mural on their building. That’s silly.” God said, “You asked for my help. I give it to you and you fuss. Don’t ask me for help if you’re not going to take it when I give it to you!” “All right, all right!” So I turned the car around.
I gave them my best ’want me to paint a mural on oyur building?’ pitch. They looked at me like I was a nut!
To back up and break the ice more gently I asked, “So, what kind of a daycare center is this anyway. I’ve never heard of it before.” They told me about the Headstart program. Then they told me where the main office was. By the end of the day I was filling out tax forms.
If I hadn’t been submissive to the will of God I would not have gotten the job.
That’s not the best part or the end of the story though. The pay at Headstart was awful and the position actually only lasted about two and half months until I was given a teaching job teaching for the county.
So what was the point of the job? Here it is. The children that I taught at Headstart I also taught again in the third grade and I worked with them again when I subbed at the high school. I see these same kids around town. They’re seniors in high school. One is on the football team. I’m so proud of him! One rang up my groceries the other day. She said she was planning to go to college to be a nurse. That’s wonderful!
The point is God isn’t interested in how much money we make. We are. God is interested in how much we impact people.
It’s hard for me to see life the way God wants me to. I keep focusing on things like material objects, emotional circumstances, and personal gains. God doesn’t look at any of that. God sees the people and He loves everyone of them.
If you’re on my email list then you’ve already recieved this in an e-card.
Its Christmas again and life’s taking a dump on me. I’ve lost another man. (Just call me the black widow of relationships). I still can’t find a job. (Send me your number and I’ll fax you a resume). And I’m on the out list with my sister-in-laws. (If you met them you would be too).
Is there anything positive I can say besides that my son’s fake-swead jacket survived its accidental trip through the laundry?
Yes, there is. I live in a great country, at a great time, surrounded by great people and have a great God. This country has a welfare and labor system that puts food in my frig and pays some bills. (Not only will we have ham for Christmas Eve but I can make pumpkin bread to give away). In this country churches are able and willing to provide free, monolithic, Christian, Christmas entertainment. (I’ve been to two concerts and a play so far.)
There are wildlife management areas where I can walk myself into better physical and mental health. (I watched a family of otters play yesterday morning.) Local libraries provide books, beautiful books, and internet access where I can communicate my thoughts to the entire world. (I can even send this letter to newspapers. Of course, they’re free too; free to say, “No”.)
Speaking of freedom, I’m free (a woman) to teach religion (Christianity) to small children. (We’ll be making pop-up nativity scenes this week in Sunday school.)
My grown and nearly grown children are providing us with Christmas this year. (Praise God for fast-food paychecks and generous hearts.) My parents have put me up and put up with me time and time again. (That right there ought to earn then a seat on the right hand side of God.)
I have friends, good, sweet, caring, wonderful friends who leave cornball jokes on my voicemail, forgive me when I snap at them, give the best hugs, make Styrofoam snowmen, and support me even when they know I’m wrong. I have a God, whose greatness is without measure. He forgives me over and over. He loves me over and over. He never ever lets me go. He has already given the greatest gift of all and it was… free.
So I’m putting down the box of tissue, turning the lights up and the TV off because “Yes Virginia, it is a wonderful life”. I hope you all have a Merry Christmas. I am.
The “S” word!
Submission!
(Worse than you thought, isn’t it)
God has been showing me (through sermons, Christian radio, scripture, and even in a Christmas play I saw tonight) how, in the last month (especially this week), that I’ve missed out on blessings because I was not submissive to His will. (Sometimes His will is for you to submit to others, sometimes it’s doing what you may know to be right but you just don’t want to do it)
I’ve missed blessings!
I started trying to be more submissive today- not pretty, but once you take the first step much easier than expected.
Submission and obedience,
This is going to be a very, very long, hard row to hoe.
Prayer and patience requested.
Well, I’ve certainly realized, again, the value of not discussing anyone you date on your blog.
You’d be recanting constantly.
What is that song we used to sing at football games?
“Another one bites the dust…”
There is also that one that is totally inappropriate and INAPLLICABLE but amusing,
“We will, we will, rock you…”
Here I am cross legged at the edge of the water again,
But this time my face is buried in my hands.
“I’m so *#&*%*! smart, what the ”#*! am I supposed to do?”
Shall I dance with the devil
And wonder
What if there is no ‘supposed to’?
What if there is no purpose?
What if we are simply to be?
Then none of this would matter.
December 1, 06 …before the cold front hit.
There is something about being awake and out of doors in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep that captures my attention and pulls me in.
I’m up in the middle of the night again! It’s nice outside so I sit on the back porch steps in my pajamas drinking very early morning coffee and listening to the sounds of the evening. A good breeze rocks the trees as if a cradle hangs from its branches. Wind chimes tingle lightly and leaves dance around in the light of the street lamp. I am alone except for the occasional car sound from the not distant enough highway. Not even the opossum that lives under the back porch comes out tonight.
When I was a teenager / young adult sometimes my exploits would lead me to be out well after midnight. It was the drive home that entranced me, a sleepy trance to be sure. Down usually busy streets then quiet and empty. Stop lights turned red on approach. Not another soul would show up at the intersection except mice. One night a mouse darted out from the shadow of the curb and ran out into the middle of the intersection. It looked up at me for a moment and then ran back into the shadows.
The hum of the highway in those early hours always reminds me of trips we used to take when I was child. Dad always had us packed and on the road an hour or two before the sun came up so that we could watch the sunrise as we ate breakfast along the way. With my head on my pillow in the backseat it was the hum of the occasional car that kept me company.
Even now as the remains of my coffee cool and the wind rocks the trees I am kept company by the hum of the occasional car on the highway.
Later that same morning;
This morning I went walking in the rain in the woods. Mist covered my glasses; a few large drops found their way down the back of my shirt and my hair slowly became saturated. That huge chain of migratory flocks was gathering for departure. When my son was little we called it the “never ending ribbon of birds”. As I tilted my head back to watch them fly over I had the same dizzying sensation that I do when I stand in the surf at the beach and the tide tries to pull the sand out from under my feet. I was being swept away. If I could have gone with them I would have.
