King David numbered the people and was taken to the woodshed...Meditations from October's reading

He was privileged to choose his punishment, this time. God opened his reasoning to pleading for his own soul and for the souls of his people. What a condescending imploring that God entered into with David? He had been taken to the woodshed so many times that he was now mature enough to engage in advocacy with God in a new way.

He owned his leadership of the people, like few men in history. Probably because he was the youngest brother, I think. He entered into a relationship with God in leadership of men, from a wholesomely humble perspective. God often reminded him of his humble beginnings, when needed. But, my focus is the response of David in the grief of having seen so many of his people endure the penalty. His grief seemed to lead him to defend them, even to God. He seemed to see God as the lion and the bear. What is more remarkable is that God engaged and seemed to enjoy this grief response

I've seen alot of things in the sky, but this was a humdinger, even for me! {ON Shin Day}

This is the closest cartoon, to what I saw, signed by UNC C.He seemed to know that I would understand it! and just as quickly as he was a pistol-toting cartoon character, it changed into the photo of me that I saw, with a candle in my mouth and turned to the side, as a little girl.

I just kept it to myself amidst the music and the talk of the trip.

I am often aware of the angelic graffiti that comes to me in my travels away from my children. They know this is difficult for me and tell me jokes to keep my spirits up. Even the cows tell me jokes, when they know I am leaving my children.

They really don't like the way I sob!

I don't like it either. Well, now I think uncle was trying to tell me to hurry up and tell the story of "Glad Adoration". So that is what I will try to do. Jochabed's story will remain an aside...

Remembering Day One!

Well, it isn’t as though I haven’t had a lot of experience caring for children.” Answered while doing my makeup and preparing for the first day at my new job. "You are not doing it right”. Was Emily’s curt answer. Look at you, makeup? For babies? You are dressed all wrong. Those babies will grab that skirt right off of you the first thing. Why are you wearing a skirt. Babies are dirty little things that you have to wipe poop and drool and spit up off of. Oh shut up Emily, was my answer as I finished my discussion with her. I have a funny feeling about these children. I have that feeling like I am going to fall in love with someone today. It is a funny feeling deep inside my heart... I kissed her on the cheek, like the day before I had you.  I squeezed her now grown up nose until she said owwwwww! I put my make up on and I did my hair and then I went to the hospital. I am in a kind of love labor and that is why I am dressed like this today.

With that short semi-argument, I got in the car with a quiet prayer for God’s great help and proceeded to my first day at the daycare…

For background, I did all I could do to keep my children out of daycare. It was a bad word in my house, growing up and never in a million years would I have said when I grow up I want to be a daycare worker. Menial labor, was my expectation of the work, but necessity had put us to this.

I just couldn’t find anything else. I will make the best of this sorry financial and jobless situation.

Emily wasn’t making it any easier. She kept asking me why I did every little thing that I did as a kind of good luck symbol, for an expectation of better things before us. I was really excited about what I would be learning, but I wasn’t at all deceived that. It wouldn’t be tedious and multiple stinky diapers a day, we’re not at all my fondest part of the expectation.

Thoughts from my first watching of "through the Looking Glass"....LG

I feel so stupid to be 55 years old and just opening LG, by means of movie. I lose my status as being thought of by myself as a well read and well rounded individual. I thought of myself as a person of multitudinous in my fully read books. Of course, my memory is losing more than I have placed into it. I lost so much that now I can't find the file of my informational readings. So, I keep filling the files, in hopes to replenish, before the hole empties the entire tub.

I hear the mother in "How Green" mocking me, "why would one fill a tub with holes in it?" Indeed why do I fill my mind, when I know it has holes? I fill it because it is empty, I retort.

Absalom, was the butterfly in "LG". I know him, I jump up and down to say. I was just reading about him a day ago. Providential? Like Horshack in Kotter, I jump and raise my hand in the class. I know Absalom and I know butterflies, like my best friends. What was Lewis Carroll trying to say?

Fleeting characters in Scripture, are they won to faith or lost? The womans' movement in the Old Testament, was it addressed by the God of Creation? Are women vindicated, is Tamar? That was Absalom's movement. He was the anti-harassment portion of the Kingdom. How far underground did that movement go? Does Jesus care?

Whose battle is that? It is the churches battle and many men have taken it to task, and some to their deaths, as Absalom.

Absalom died, in judgment and David knew why. His sins were brought into his face. It is my fault, he was saying over and over in his griefs. I showed this boy the wrong thing about my life. I showed him that I let the good old boys off the hook too easily. I showed him that his sister was less than to me. Women weren't important to him, but they are to Jesus.

Jesus came to correct the record, as it comes to women. We are not the center of the universe. Our angers and griefs are carried to heaven. Our prayers for our sons are seen by our Lord. Our monuments to their misunderstandings in prayer are considered at the throne of Mercy. How much of ourselves are we willing to spend to grow children into the Kingdom of Heaven? Carroll and His generation had a burden of not letting the Absaloms go to hell, because of their inconsistencies. They built schools to separate the wheat from the chaff and get the wheat into policy-making positions. Scripture was a standard, among other standards to create an Athenian-style debate of hammering out policies. God will not judge us harshly, if we are judging ourselves aright, was the reasoning of these great men of yesteryear.

Somehow the womans' movement has become an end in itself and not an issue to be reconciled with. Men who are masculine are attacked, for their bias. Femininity is the rule of the day. It is our turn, we say. We must crush masculinity, because that is the enemy! Not so!

Jochabed went through intensive training to become a nursemaid in the royal nursery.

Each day she began with worship and praise to Jehovah, before she went to the palace to see her beloved child. The training seemed like nothing for the life that was spared on her behalf, by Jehovah.

It was actually very intense. Many women were sent home in tears. Many women were sent into a deeper servitude, because of insubordination and attitude. No untoward attitude was accepted in those days. Pharoah was hardening in his stance against women, because of the possibility of insurrection from the Jews after his tyrade.

The women, on the other hand, she found very winsome and understanding of her life's work. Especially the Pharoah's daughter, seemed very accepting of her. There seemed a close bond forming between the two women, which was hard for Jochabed to accept, in her concern for Moses. She couldn't let on that there was a real bond between her and her son and she attempted to keep her love internal and follow procedure and protocol with abandon. She plucked Moses one time for calling her mommy, right on the mouth. He stuttered from that moment on and she felt that in her heart as an ache, although she could never tell another soul, except Miriam, when she went home. They held eachother in tears, many a night of her detail.

Of Pearls and Leaves{the laws of childcare impurities in Egypt}

The categories of children in the palace, when Jochabed was brought on as a nursemaid was Pearl or Leaves. Outside the nursery there was a symbol, which at first seemed strange to her. The Pearl symbol was given to the babies who didn't spit up, in their earliest care. The spittle of infants was despised in Egypt and seen as an early sign of disrespect for their elders. Once they would become of age, they would have the opportunity to take back their early expressions, if they would.

The Leaf symbol was given to the children who had spit on their elders and they had a month to be corrected from this horrible habit and if not, they would be relegated to a service oriented away from the palace. This corrective action was taken to keep the gods happy with the Pharoah that he wouldn't be tarnished with this impurity and thus be degraded in their service.

Jochabed's prayers and heart burden was weighted as she observed these peculiar practices of the Egyptian palace culture. She thanked God that He wasn't such a God to do this to His servants. She was still rejoicing that she was allowed to see her son alive and her glory couldn't be shared with the other women in her community who were suffering. It was a lonely time and her confidants became some of the women servants in the palace, who were of different cultural backgrounds, but motherhood held them in a heart bond that was deep and earnest. She prayed for their souls to find a way to the true God.

Today was picking day for my first corn stalk----It is a QUIET THING!

I think maybe that is what the angel was saying with that extravagant twisty spectacular display on Saturday. If you don't pick that one ear of corn that you were able to eek out of your paltry attempts at gardening I will! I am so sick of you missing the timer for these things. If you know how many plants and sweet potatoes and carrots, etc. that you let sit under that ground after you planted them, even you would weep. It is time to pick that one! I hear that you need a bump on the head to get things like that. Well, if you think that I changed the timer on the rain clock for you to get real corn to come up for you so that you could let that one rot on the vine, it makes me sick.

I picked it and finally got the message.

Now I know HOW???

The spiders caught the angelic view and documented what I couldn't see. They said the first foot went here and the second step went there and up and the lightning was over there. Did you see that? I am glad I didn't miss that athletic move!

Yesterday's storm was real!

The clouds rolled in an unusual pattern. They seemed to mimic what I had been trying to do on my blog. Speed up the marquee was what I was trying to do. These clouds were moving at a swift clip and were white on a background of a dark storm behind them. I had to stand there and watch them, with Ev imploring me, as the birds usually do to get inside and close the door. It wasn't really a fearful sight. It was beautiful and I did long to have a movie of it to examine it closer. While I was looking the birdfeeder blew off the holder. This was the first time that this had happened that I recall. I wondered whether to go outside and pick it up and as I was wondering a bolt of lightning shot directly above it at an angle which was a single bolt opening into a threefold bolt. Evie said, "you see, that was too close, One mississippi, etc." I got the message and I am revelling in knowing that the God of lightning and thunder is my friend and he never misses a shot! like we do.

{Coming events cast a shadow?} I saw clouds that looked like this in the sky a couple of years ago. I said to myself They are still fighting, those two, Roosevelt and Taft.

Today, I found out that Planned Parenthood was founded in 1916. 10/16/1916 was their inception on paper. I had read about their door to door campaign in Cheaper by the dozen and was curious about the political dynamics of the time. We had just come out of our own serious political chasm, of sorts, namely Hillary vs. Trump campaign and the tremors of political upheaval are still being felt. I do wonder if CS Lewis saw these dynamics and was narrating them in Lion Witch Wardrobe, or just pontificating from the hill. It seems the former to me. Dozen was written/published in 1948 and Wardrobe published 1950.

Imaginations of Jochabed!

Spare me, by your mercy, sings Jochabed as she weaves the great basket for her tiny gift.  Spare me Lord the suffering.  Give me grace I pray.  Let my child live through this awful day.  Spare me Lord, By your grace for You are merciful and Kind.  I can never know why your hand is heavy upon us, but spare and give my child a chance to live and serve you.

Does the grave praise your power.  Does the death declare your name.  Does the distant sad Sheol give the glory we proclaim.  We are here to love and serve you, even in a distant land. We are begging God, your holy love would stay the wicked hands. debt of love I owe. Dear Lord I give myself away, it's all that I can do” Bathing Egyptian women--- sounds of weeping women from the distance.

Woman 1---It is so sad that they are weeping so much.

Gather at the river!

Imagination is not as great as reality. Graduate Ezzy

Class of 2021

Grandma's Happy Easter Hug!

Granny, You look like a big beautiful Easter Egg. His little arms were reaching around my calves and hugging me so tight that I almost fell over onto him. I love you, sonny, but you are going to knock your granny over, if you don't let my calves go. I love you Granny! I was beaming at the wonder of our enjoyment. I walked him over to my chair and we sat down and I started to tell him how I got that big lump on my shoulder. It was a day that I could tell him. When I was young, I was on the volleyball team and I had a fierce underhand serve. One day, Mr. T said you are going to take a chance and serve overhand. I remember hitting the ball as hard as I possibly could. The ball looped up in the air and didn't even make it to the first line girls, much less to the net. I remember saying to myself, I will never be able to serve overhand. We lost the scrimmage that day against the lesser players and it was all because I couldn't even get one serve over the net. We had grown accustomed to depending on my serve for some many points. Even as a Freshman, I could get that underhand serve where I wanted it. Mr. T seemed puzzled and quiet that whole practice session. He said, I am not going to accept this. We are going to work together and get your serve to work. I am sure it will help your tennis serve, as well. We spent the rest of practice hitting serves against the wall of the gym. It was a muscle that I hadn't even known that I had. I just felt like a weakling. I kept hitting it and hitting it and it took about 2 sessions for the ball to trickle slightly over the net. That was the first trickle in a scrimmage. Then there was trying it in a real game. Oh no! I was determined to keep my trusty dusty underhand serve, for confidence sake. Mr. T made me willing to let go of my confidence in my identity as a safe and consistent server for the power and wonder that became my identity when I developed my real serve. By my senior year and even now. I could look at a spot and hit it without as much effort as it was in the beginning. All of those many serves strengthened my shoulder muscles, but also strained it. That muscle was my identity for many years. The girl with the unreturnable serve. Many girls would prefer to duck than to try to hit it and I can't count how many aces I had under my belt. All of this great enjoyment has a price to be paid and this lump reminds me of a wall that I was helped over, by a man with a vision of an overhead serve that I couldn't see and didn't even want. The power of his vision gave me something I would never have had, if he hadn't pushed me past my petulance. God bless Mr T and I am grateful that my injury is not the same testimony as my dads testimony of his arm injuries! God can turn around the darkness and bring it to victory. When somebody sees over the wall of impossibility.

I sat at the fire with my binoculars...

So many questions flooded my mind, from fearful ones about lions and bears to more comforting ones about the animals that I could see.  I had decided that, if there were fierce maneaters stalking me, they'd have shown themselves already and I went about entertaining myself with the views of the peaceful tranquility that surrounded me.  Very soon, this felt as though it were my own home.  Conversation seemed easy with small sparrows and whippoorwills, as though they could understand me.  Perhaps they all did.  All at once my eyes lighted upon a large and hidden nest of some sort.
      The marshy area had a constant water sound and the chirps and wildlife sounds were interesting and calming.   This silenced me, for some reason.  Chattiness was drowning out the real subject of my exploration.   A swift loud crunchy sound attracted my attention that there were some busy beavers, looked like 6 of them,  working on some construction project in the farthest corner of my eyeshot.  Certain that my talking was annoying to them, hushed me even further.
       I, very carefully checked every step as I tried to get closer to that nest in the distance.  It was about a stone's throw away, but one never knows if there are soft-spots or holes in the marshy area that I was in.  Everything looked gray in the distance.   As I came closer,  I heard some very sharp bird sound that was alarming.  I retreated immediately.  The beauty of a happy Crane couple, staring at me in alarm, convinced me to do my investigating through my binoculars.  Both birds came up swiftly and cawing profusely convinced me that it was time to pack it in.
       I put out my fire and took a drew a swift sketch of the nest and ran back to camp.

Dancing in the woods

Spring break was always a time for mom and me to go camping in the woods. We would hike for miles and miles and live off of the paltry provisions, we’d carry and anything that we could catch. We would set a camp each night and then set off for a greater wilderness wandering at daybreak. I did so love the smell of the wild and mom’s pipe, which were my delightful enjoyments, along with the pictures that we both kept of sketched wildlife that we would do.

This morning mom was tired from hiking and her knees were aching a bit, so she decided to stay close to camp for the day and collect her thoughts. Shorty was going to pick us up in his plane the next day, so I was eager to set off for a last explore before we went back to the city. Mom said if you are not back here at 5 pm. I will call Shorty tonight and we may never, ever come back, Do you hear me? This was my first, but certainly wouldn't be my last lone explore. Mom and I synchronized watches and it was 6:05 am and I remember every single cloud that was in the sky. They were large, white and puffy and seemed to rejoice with me that I was going to be freely enjoying their entertainment for the next several hours. I knew how to mark my path, so that I would know my way back. The first tree marks that I made were entirely too close together. I was imagining getting very lost, some paces from the camp. I counted my every step and wrote the number on my markings, meticulously. At 7 I felt that I had gone as far as I wanted, for the day and made a campfire and sat on a rock at the side of the river with my binoculars. I took out my sketch pad and my pocket knife and my sling, just in case there were any threatening animals approaching.

The morning dew was drying in the sun, but the shady places were still too wet to have an easy time setting my fire. I collected much dry brush as I could find, but it was quite a while before I got a real fire going. I am afraid that all of the wildlife that I was trying to sketch were scared away by my clumsy setting of a fire at that time of the morning. I set up my hook and reel and I was really hungry and hoping that I might catch a bite here and there before too long.

A sigh of reality and freedom had overtaken any real fear of what might have happened out there.

Otters

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.

Froggiepoo accepted to Coach!

 I stood over his shoulder as he opened the, long anticipated letter from the school.  Froggie had donned his resume and I had edited for him and he sent it by snail mail.  Many times I said, are you sure you want to coach volleyball at an innercity school?  He said I sure do.  I went along with his feelings with much trepidation.

He said, I really feel that I can make a difference in their lives.  I really saw Froggie as the political type.  He was so profound, at times and he could lift his deep voice and fill a room with it, when he put his mind to it.  All that education and you want to coach?  I repeated, not meaning for him to hear me. It just blurted out as he was opening the envelope.  I guess, I was trying to keep his hopes on the ground, since he always usually got what he wanted in these cases.  I thought this is just the moment that he will have all his hopes dashed for being a super duper Highschool coach.

He opened the envelope and jumped up and down 10 times before I could catch him to find out what exactly they had said.

I got it!  I got it!  He bellowed.  I am going to Crocheron Hall!

Crocheron Hall is an hour and a half away, by train!  Why couldn't you have chosen a school closer to home?  It is in a difficult neighborhood, he replied without a thought about it.  I want to influence the underprivileged children to achieve their potential, through sport.

I was incredulous that he would last a week there!

And I woke from that nap bereft of all of my Halleluias./ Not Good, we have to go to the bank!

Where did they go?  I had them in my pocket and I took them out regularly.  While I was asleep they had slipped out of my pocket and flown right back to the Halleluia bank.
I felt cold and tired and empty.  How could I go on without the stash of Halleluias that I was storing for a rainy day?

The Halleluia Angel took my hand and whispered in my ear.  I will hold your hand and we will see what some others have done with their Halleluias.  If you don't spend them quickly, you will lose them.

First, we went to a hospital and sat at the bedside of an elderly gentleman.  He was spending his Halleluias on the staff at the hospital and they were growing tremendous treasures for him that was coming very soon in his great and grand reception in heaven.  The angel pulled the curtain of heaven back so I could see simultaneously, the halleluia and the angels in heaven setting the special banquet of his reception which was coming up in one week.   The nurses came in to check on him and he greeted each with one or two of his Halleluias.  He didn't have to go to any bank to get them.  They were in his soul and deep seeded.  Where does he keep his?  I asked the angel.

Will I ever get to "Glad Adoration" if I keep losing my Halleluias?