Deep in the Muck

A "cleaner" wheeler ride! Can you believe I got back on with him?

A “cleaner” wheeler ride! Can you believe I got back on with him?

Have you ever had an up close and personal relationship with manure?  You know…sticky, smelly, squishy…comes from the wrong end of everything? You read it right, manure! Well, my encounter with manure is one I’ll never forget!

As a new teacher from the city, in a small, rural town, twelve hours away from all my family and friends, I was welcomed into the home of a fellow teacher for supper each weekend.  (She later became my mother-in-law but that’s a story for another time). Anyway, I loved going there because it was on a farm and there were so many new things to see and do. Of course I never considered a rendezvous with manure being one of them.

After supper one cold, blustery night, Joe, the youngest in the family had to go check on the cows.  As he donned his coveralls he looked back over his shoulder and jokingly asked if I’d like to join him.  Much to his surprise (and mine too) I said yes.  So began my transformation.  Coveralls, gloves, a disreputable hat, and knee-high black rubber boots.  I was quite thrilled with my get-up and felt ready for the cover of The Farmer’s Almanac!  Out the door we went.  With an uncoordinated swing of my leg I plopped on the back of the three wheeler behind Joe and we took off around the fields checking for any new calves. The icy air slapped my cheeks  and the bars I was sitting on slapped my other….well, you get the idea. Approaching the barn, I thought our job was coming to an end but we paused right outside a large opening.  What I saw in front of me sent a shiver down my spine. There in our path was a huge pile of snow.  Joe looked back at me and seeing the terror in my eyes he smiled, revved the engine, and took off determined to give me the ride of my life!  I had a sinking feeling.

sinking became more than a feeling! As it turned out, it was not the snow pile we’d anticipated.  Instead it was an enormous mountain of manure disguised by a layer of clean, white snow. Momentum propelled us upward but just as the wheeler reached the top, the engine died and we sank. Despite several valiant attempts, Joe was unable to get us free so he told me I’d have to drive and he’d get off and push us out.  This is where city girl made her mistake .  Having never driven a three-wheeler or anything close to it, I was scared and so I firmly refused. With more confidence than I actually felt, I told Joe that I’d get off and push!

To his credit, Joe did ask me if I was sure before he agreed.  Attempting to appear undaunted I stepped right down into the waiting muck. My feet began to disappear deep into the mire until manure was dripping down inside my knee-high boots; gunk soaking through my socks.  Gripping the back bar of the wheeler I listened as Joe counted……Are you picturing  where this is going?

One, two three!…….He gunned the motor. With a gallant effort, I pushed. The tires spun. And yes, in a split second I had cow manure everywhere manure could possibly go.  In my hair, dripping from my eyelashes, my nose, in my ears, covering my clothes. I was manure from. top. to. bottom.  As I stood stuck, with globs of poo plopping from the brim of my hat and sliding down my face, I learned that being deep in the muck is NOT where I wanted to be!

Since then I’ve come to realize that life can sometimes feel like being stuck deep in the muck. Stress at work, bills to pay, health issues, troubled marriage, worrying about children, plans that don’t work out….the list is long. None of us want to be lodged in the depths of these situations but when we find ourselves unexpectedly sinking, what a comfort it is to know we are not alone.

“He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in Him.” Psalm 40:2-3 (NIV)

I certainly don’t have all the answers and I flounder when I find myself not where I want to be. I  may not always see a solution right away or recognize God leading me to solid ground as I struggle in the slime, maybe you can relate,  but this I do know… His word assures us we can look to Him for help and He’ll not leave us on our own.

The end of my “farm-hand initiation” that winter night? It came when Joe suddenly (not quite quickly enough for me, mind you) remembered a switch on the three-wheeler that when flipped, enabled the tires to lift up out of the murky hole they’d been trapped in. I’ll never forget his sheepish grin as he reached out his hand and helped me, manure smell, and all, back onto the wheeler.

This was the first of many adventures I had on the farm but the lesson I learned in the manure  is my favorite.  When I find myself unable to move forward or release what is behind me. When I’m sinking and stuck deep in the muck I’m reminded that just as the tires were lifted up so many years ago, we have a God that we can trust to lift US up. That smells like victory to me!

Scar Story

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“He bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.” 1 Peter 2:24 NIV

Ever find yourself lying unconscious in the gutter? No?  I never expected to either! So imagine my surprise when I opened my eyes to find myself wedged between the tires of a car and the curb…literally lying in the gutter!  It was one of those moments that moved in slow motion and seemed like a dream or in this case a nightmare.  As I looked up from my undignified position a crowd of unfamiliar eyes stared down at me.   Sprawled on the pavement, one flip flop on, one off, my clothing askew, and a throbbing head made me want to disappear down the drain I was laying on!

I was a teenager on vacation and I’d fainted as we were walking along the sidewalk, souvenir shopping. I’d had too much……….not what you’re thinking…….sun. As it turned out, I had to get stitches in the gash near my eye. I still bear the scar on my face from that embarrassing adventure long ago that I’d rather forget.

Scars are like that. They stick with us. They tell the story of imperfect moments in our journey through life. Everyone’s are unique.  You NOW know that some of mine tell of accidents, some say I’ve survived health issues, and still others remind me of times I might not have used good judgement or paid close enough attention.

We don’t just display our scars on the outside, though.  Our story continues with the ones we wear on the inside, too. Maybe we’ve been “stabbed” in the back by a friend. Our heart’s been “pierced” by someone we love. Words have “cut” deep into our soul. Insecurity has “carved” its way into our thoughts. These scars can feel as if they’ll never heal. And they don’t if left on their own. Here’s the Good News for you and me….we’re NOT left on our own!

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3

What a comfort to know that God not only knows every hair on our head but also every hurt we endure. And just as He designed our skin to repair itself on the outside,  He takes our inward pain and layer by layer knits the damaged pieces into a place of strength.

There have been times I’ve wished my scars weren’t there, but as I’ve grown older I realize that inside or out; each bump, bruise, scrape, and gouge has been stitched together to create who I am today. It’s my scar story. A story that’s full of hurt, disappointment, and fear, but it doesn’t end there.  It’s also a story that tells of this girl’s healing through forgiveness, love and grace. Now THAT’S a story that will stick with you!  What’s your scar story?

If you want to read more about loving your scars, click on over to http://www.tsuzanneeller.com for #livefreeThursday wisdom.

What Could Be Worth More?

My name is Cindy and I am a recovering Perfectionist.

For a long time I didn’t recognize the signs, even though looking back they were there. It wasn’t until I heard the words; words that caught me totally off guard because they came out of MY mouth, that I realized there was a problem. “If my own father could leave me, I can’t be worth much.” Where did that come from?  I’d never consciously had that thought before the very instant those words tumbled from my heart onto my tongue.

I’ve come to realize that somewhere in the traumatic moments as my dad turned his back on the sobbing eleven year old me and walked out our front door, a lie seeped into every crack of my freshly broken heart.  A lie so painful that typing about it now brings me to tears.  A lie that told a little girl that if she’d only been better, her dad wouldn’t have left.

Funny thing about lies, they’re often easy to believe and this one grew and intertwined itself in every part of my life until I was convinced that to be loved, I had to be perfect. Well, we all know how that turns out, don’t we?  Trying to be the best student, teacher, wife, parent, Christian…doing all that I could to give that flawless performance so others would see my worth…. so I could see my own worth… backfired.  The harder I tried, the more failures I experienced, the more failures-the more guilt I felt, so what did I do?  I tried harder. Striving to be perfect was exhausting!

Speaking those words that had been hidden in my heart for so long was the beginning of a journey I’m still on.  A journey of recovery. A journey of freedom. A journey of grace.

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8 (NIV)

Did you catch that?  It’s taken me a long time to embrace this wonderful truth. God’s love doesn’t wait for us to be perfect!  We are loved when we’re angry. We’re loved when we are judgmental. We are loved when we fail. And yes, we are loved when we are imperfectly doing everything we can to be perfect

I am a recovering Perfectionist.  I am Cindy and I am loved! Friends, you are too!  What could be worth more?

Linking up again today with Suzanne Eller’s #livefreeThursday at http://www.tsuzanneeller.com Today’s prompt? “When you’ve done all you can” Enjoy!

Seeds of Living Hope

This post is a little different from what I normally do but I’m excited to share it with you.  Recently I was asked to consider writing a series of  true, short stories about God’s miracles which have occurred over the past few years in the starting and growing of Living Hope High School in Bungoma, Kenya. I prayed, got advice, and yes, worried even though I know I’m not supposed to. It’s an important project and I wanted to be sure I was the one for the challenge.  Now, I was praying for a “neon sign” that would flash a message that it was God’s plan for me to write these stories,  instead I received a soft whisper that said; “Just write and I’ll take care of the rest.” This “want to get it right all the time girl” has a hard time stepping into the unknown but “just write” is what I did.  I hope you enjoy this and the stories to come.  I pray they bless you as they have me.

Alan / Pixabay

Seeds of Living Hope

This is the first in a series of miraculous true stories about Living Hope High School in Bungoma, Kenya. Stories that share the divine inspiration and dedication to helping students of poverty, who once had no hope, reach their full potential. 

“Still other seeds fell on fertile soil, and they produced a crop that was thirty, sixty, and even a hundred times as much as had been planted!” 

Matthew 13:8 NLT

What happens when, called by God, one teacher sells everything she can and begins on a journey that takes her to the other side of the world to plant seeds of hope? I invite you to join her in this adventure and witness the miracles of God, the obedience of a woman, and the lives that are changed along the way.  Maybe just maybe…. one of those lives will be yours!

Marilyn Uhl had been a teacher for several years in the small rural towns of Seneca Rocks and Circleville, West Virginia.  From there she became a Masseuse for the many workers in the poultry industry of Virginia. But it was in 2006 Marilyn found herself in Tennessee as the teacher/principal of a high school for the behaviorally disabled. Unable to function in the public school system her students had drug addictions, mental health issues, and criminal records. It was a bleak, stressful, and challenging job.

Being an avid gardener, Marilyn could often be found working the problems of the day away in the soil of her flower beds. Helping something grow and bloom was just what she needed.  As she worked in the dirt she also worked on an idea.  What if she could pass on her love for gardening to others? She turned to Rotary International, a service organization, known for their dedication to mission trips. She joined the club and drafted her plan for a gardening mission trip, her mission.  Rotary International provided half the funding she needed and Marilyn worked tirelessly to raise the other half.  When she was done she had the money she needed, 15,000 packs of donated seeds, gardening tools, and was awarded the “Outstanding Project Award”.   What started as the seed of a dream had been planted, grew, and bloomed!

In 2007 Marilyn and all of her seeds arrived in Uganda at a Pentecostal orphanage.  The orphanage was made up of several small cottages where children and their guardian lived.  For two months Marilyn worked side by side with those children and adults until they’d planted a garden at each cottage.  She then reached out into the community to help them plant gardens, too.  Before saying goodbye to her budding gardeners and always the teacher, Marilyn also taught them how to collect and save seeds for the next year’s crops.

Summer had come to an end and school began as it always had before but this year something had changed in Marilyn.  Time passed and early one winter morning Marilyn sat at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee working on her lesson plans. Her old dog Jesse slept beside her in his basket.  Suddenly, without warning the quiet of the room was engulfed by what seemed to be a voice…. God’s voice!  In that miraculous moment He revealed three things to Marilyn: “They went to bed hungry.”, “Go.”, and “I will provide.”  Stunned, she sat frozen, straining to hear more, but silence had once again settled on the kitchen. Dazed and shaking, Marilyn called her school and told them that she wouldn’t be in.  Hanging up, she sat staring not sure what to think or do next. She was not idle for long as a prompting had her opening her closet doors. At once she began sorting and organizing, all the while trying to make sense of what had just occurred. By the end of the day two loads, the first of many to come, were packed and ready to take to the thrift store. She returned to school, life moved on, but Marilyn knew God had planted another seed. She never stopped thinking about the words she’d heard, especially “They went to bed hungry.” Something told her “they” were the children in Africa and her desire to go to them intensified.  God’s seed had “fallen on fertile soil” and in “thirty, sixty, and even a hundred” ways life as Marilyn had known it was about to change dramatically!

Copyright Living Hope High School, Bungoma, Kenya

Hanging in Limbo

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“Without wavering, let us hold tightly to the hope we say we have, for God can be trusted to keep his promise.” Hebrews 10:23

 

Have you ever found yourself hanging in limbo between “all that I am and all that I’m not”?  That’s where I find myself now, dangling, like Paul when he wrote in Romans 7:15  “I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it.  Instead, I do what I hate.”

Starting my day in devotion with God, following through on the things He’s calling me to do, trusting His plan and not my own……all things I believe I’m to pursue, and some days I get it right. But then I swing off track and checking Facebook, lingering too long, worry, and so much more have me suspended in a place I don’t want to be.

I’ve been watching a hornets’ nest high in a tree outside my kitchen window. It sways like a pendent in the wind back and forth, back and forth…..just. like. me. Over time, all that mid-air action has caused rips and dents to form but the nest continues to holds fast. How can that be? Is there a lesson for me, perhaps? Maybe you can relate too. For as much as I don’t “understand myself” and waiver between what is right and what I hate, I’ve found this WE have to hold on to:

“This is why we have a great High Priest who has gone to heaven, Jesus the Son of God. Let us cling to Him and never stop trusting him.  This High priest of ours understands our weaknesses for he faced all of the same temptations we do, yet He did not sin.  So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God.  There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it.”

Hebrews 5:14-16

Yes, hanging in limbo is a frustrating place to be. I know better.  I want better.  What a blessing it is that despite the bumps and bruises, the back and forth, the do and don’t do, a hornets’ nest reminds us that we are anchored in the grasp of God, who knows just where we are and where we’re going.  We can boldly leave limbo behind and embrace with certainty, that with His help, mercy and grace we’ll reach our destination.

I’m really enjoying writing posts as part of Suzanne Eller’s #livefreeThursday.  This week’s prompt as you might have guessed is “limbo”.  If you’d like to read more thoughts on being in limbo click here http://www.tsuzanneeller.com

 

I’m Marked

 

"For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part, then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." 1 Corinthians 13:12

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part, then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” 1 Corinthians 13:12

I’m Marked

My mirror tells a story

I don’t want to hear.

Of passing time, sagging skin

And other things I fear.

Wrinkles, laugh lines,

A hair on my chin?

How can this be my outside

When I still feel young within?

Age spots, freckles,

A scar by my eye.

I’m marked head to toe

By years passing by.

Just about the time

I begin to despair,

A still, small voice says;

“See My masterpiece there!”

Leaning into the glass

I look long and deep,

The reflection I saw

Caused me to weep.

For it was at this moment

My heart began to sing,

Because dear friends,

I’d forgotten one thing.

I’m marked on the inside!

Saved by His grace!

My sins are forgiven,

Jesus died in my place!

Each hair on my head,

The reflection I see,

Is all part of His plan

For me being ME!

The face is the same

But the story is new.

I’m a woman marked by God

Seeing the beauty of His love shine through!

This post was written as part of #livefreeThursday.  Pop over to http://www.tsuzanneeller.com to read more about being marked by God!

 

 

No Peek Chicken

As I’ve been on my new recipe finding quest I have kept my daughter in the back of my mind.  She is a new mom and working full time so I want to find some recipes that are quick and easy to prepare.  I have to admit that this ole retired gal doesn’t mind quick and easy either.  This recipe fits the bill perfectly.  The first time I made it I was actually at my daughter’s house and both she and my son-in-love gave it a thumbs up.  Hubby was next and he gave his seal of approval too.  Let me know if you enjoy “No Peek Chicken”.[amd-zlrecipe-recipe:3]

A Baby Bottle Lesson

 

"Many are the plans in a person's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." Proverbs 19:21 NIV

“Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” Proverbs 19:21 NIV

My baby bottle years have been way behind me, that is, until my grandson was recently born.  Now, I’m reveling in every moment of holding him close in my arms while he drinks from his bottle.  This precious time is a blessing and a joy and believe it or not it has reminded me of a truth about myself:  I am a planner. (That’s a nice way of saying I’m a control freak)  At home, when I was teaching school, on vacation, at church events, in retirement, and on and on; I’ve wanted things to go the way I thought they should go.  A lot of my energy has been spent organizing, designing, formulating, and figuring out how to navigate life with as few disappointments, unwelcome surprises, or bumps as possible along the way.  Now don’t get me wrong, in day to day life, my strategies have been useful in accomplishing many things that had to be done,  but being so wrapped up in doing things myself I believe has caused me to be missing out  in my relationship with God.  Here’s where a bottle feeding helped me see a little more clearly.

Being almost five months old, my grandson has started trying to help feed himself.  He clumsily brings his hands up and attempts to wrap them around the bottle,  In doing so, more times than not, his hands get in the way and the flow of milk stops or he pulls the bottle completely from his mouth.  The result is usually a leg kicking, arm flailing, red faced yell.   In my hand I have everything he requires to be nourished and to satisfy his needs.  I offer it to him freely and with love.   All my grand baby needs to do is open his mouth and accept the life giving gift.  Do you see where this is leading?  Here’s my ah-ha moment……

How often have my attempts at planning life out my way actually hindered my receiving what God was freely and lovingly offering me?  Thinking I know what’s best, have I pushed unseen blessings away?

Have I faced times of famine simply because I’ve strived to do things on my own? 

Watching Carson trying so hard to feed himself has caused me to pause and reflect.  I’m reminded that God has me, and he has you, cradled in His arms and He’s offering us His very best for our lives.  

Life certainly can cause us to kick and scream while teaching us that we’re not in control. It’s time for me to give up my clumsy attempts at directing my purpose and my path.  I need to do less planning and more praying.  Let go of my timelines and trust God to provide everything I need at just the right moment. Maybe you’re ready to give up your control too.  Together let’s loosen our grip and open ourselves  to “drink” in the life He has waiting for us.

I have written this post as part of #livefreeThursday.  The prompt was “I give up”. Want to read more? Go to http://www.tsuzanneeller.com

Treasured

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Rounding the last corner after a long drive with two small children, I spotted her house.  As I pulled in the drive my eyes found hers as she came from between the brightly colored hanging plants, a smile lighting up her face and her arms already spread wide to welcome me. A silent sigh from deep within escaped  through my lips, releasing the stresses of the trip and so much more. We’d made it; despite spilled french fries, backseat territory arguments, unscheduled pit stops, and highway construction, we’d reached our destination….my Grandma’s arms! 

Being at Grandma’s for me, was always a respite from the rest of the world. Affection abounded, caring overflowed, and despite what was going on in her life, I was always welcomed  with her whole heart. She enveloped me into a place of tenderness and acceptance, but more than that, she had a way of making me feel truly  treasured.

Looking back, I can’t tell you the exact words or actions my Grandma used to create such a sense of being cherished, but I can say that those times wrapped in her love and encouragement were a rare and precious gift I cling to today.

I don’t know about you, but I can easily lose sight of myself as a treasure and instead focus on my “rusty junk pile”. I fail, disappoint, abandon, compare, complain…you know the list. Oh, how I question my worth!

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son threw his arms around him and kissed him.  The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.  I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.  Bring the fattened calf and kill it.  Let’s have a feast and celebrate.” Luke 15:20-23

Here’s what the open, welcoming arms of my Grandma and those of the Prodigal Son’s Father are teaching me:

Our worth isn’t measured by what we do or don’t do.  It’s measured by love.

 That junk pile we worry about? Love took care of that when Jesus spread His arms, wide on the cross to welcome each of us to our destination in Heaven, where we will be accepted, loved, and treasured. Now that’s reason to celebrate!

Soft Pumpkin Cookies

imageThere’s a new coolness to the breeze, a mosaic of color fills the mountains, and the temperature  is dropping at night.  Fall has arrived!  To celebrate this season of harvest and my love of all things pumpkin, I am sharing a new recipe with you for Soft Pumpkin Cookies.  They are tasty, moist morsels and perfectly pumpkiny! (I don’t think that is a word, but you know what I mean)  Easy to make and fun to share, let me know what you think![amd-zlrecipe-recipe:2]