Buzz Aldrin walks on the moon, July 20, 1969 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m tryin’ to cope with lots of things, here at the edge of hell.

The heat is already bearin’ down on us here, like a tailgater, or a hot wet blanket, or just about any other hot miserable smothering simile you can think of.

I’ve never lived outside this heat. The one time I lived outside the United States, it was in Malaysia, which is tropical, in the 90s, year-round.

So now that I’m thinking of that time, from long ago, I think of all the people, all over the world, who have to suffer, especially in extreme heat, or extreme cold. I wish humans didn’t have to suffer so. What was God thinking?

It’s pretty much impossible not to be serious, here at the edge of hell. I’ll settle for some comforting music, if possible, to get by another day.

I hope you have a good Monday, the rest of the day, but even the moon feels sorry for us, doesn’t it?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTijRT8ifZo

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Peonies. 1959 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Dear Daughter,

I don’t know how this is going to turn out. I haven’t read the news today. News can wait (and sometimes must).

Have you ever had one of those days that’s a hard day, but a sweet day as well? That’s the kind of day it was here.

I’ve been thinking a lot about you today, because your birthday‘s so soon. It’s one of those birthdays some women worry about. (But don’t worry! I’ve got you covered!)

I think about you and your brother a lot, especially around your birthdays. Remember Key West? I’m so sorry your eyes got sunburned! I wasn’t thinking! (Also, I didn’t expect the sun to be so bright and burning, out there on the water. I should have thought).

Then I remembered when you and your brother played in the living room and we got a picture, there on Ohio Avenue. (There’s so much more:)

So there’s not room here, to write everything down, but remember how I told you to always try to accept (it takes time) all our flaws and scars too, because that’s where God writes things down? That’s still true, and you are  so beautiful.

Today, at Cleveland State Community College, I was walking to different parts of the campus and there were peonies! So I stepped up and over the rocks where they had planted the peonies. They were in full-bloom, in full fragrance.

When I was in Chattanooga, earlier today, I saw a Krispy Kreme place and needed to ask directions (of course!) They have a new doughnut flavor called “Key lime“. Can you imagine?

I bought the Key lime glazed doughnut (with filling) and one regular glazed, to take with me.

After I finally got done with all the computer things (at the college) I bought a cup of coffee and put two little containers of half & half cream in the coffee. Then I put my other things in the car and walked back to a picnic table in a real grove of real trees, where the cool breeze was blowing. So I sat there and enjoyed the coffee and doughnuts and thought about you and had already almost cried. The Key lime made me think of you, because of Key West, when we visited there.

Then I looked up and in the picnic area, which smelled like fresh earth and cedar, everything was so beautiful and clear and fresh and cool, like everything was celebrating. And those doughnuts tasted like sweet light and when I walked to see more flowers, I saw azaleas. Earlier I saw lavender irises. There were so many beautiful flowers and colors and kind people.

I love you daughter!!! Happy Early Birthday!

(I think that was one of the healthiest happiest lunches I ever ate! You rock!!! (Check mail soon:)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gfEWe8nr-r8

Today, earlier, I felt resigned, about many things, and about what happened, in Boston.

Then later, walking into the library, I felt confused (and invalidated) when I mentioned my sadnesses to an acquaintance. (He had asked).

But the acquaintance gave bad answers, to all my sadnesses. He had an answer for everything. He said of the Boston massacre, “They’ll just party again soon.”  That was his Bible answer, from the book of Judges, he pointed out. So now I never want to read the book of Judges. I’m lucky never to have read any of the Bible all the way through. The Bible is a violent book.

This morning I was thinking, God put the life in the blood and There Will Be Blood. (But I don’t recommend the movie, which is hateful).

In this life, as long as there is life, there will be blood. In this life on Earth, along with the good, there will be murder and maiming and mayhem, as long as there’s any life left, because God put the life in the blood.

So this song, “Be Still My Soul” has been going through my mind. I first heard it at a Cumberland Presbyterian church. I hope the song helps, in some way.

“How long, O Lord, must I call for help, but You do not listen?

Or cry out to You, ‘Violence!’ but You do not save?

Why do You make me look at injustice?

Why do You tolerate wrong?

Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds.” (Habakkuk 1: 2-3)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sDkFL7yCGps

Before I forget, the name of the book about spiritual warfare is “Living in the Combat Zone” by Rick Renner.

Today I’ve been thinking about winning and losing. Sometimes in this life, we lose our beloved. Sometimes we lose the people, or the pets, or the things, that we love.

Sometimes, everything seems to fall apart.

But then (eventually today) one thought led to another thought, and all thoughts led to Jesus, by Whom and for Whom all things were created.

Jesus is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. (Colossians 1:17 New International Version).

I hope you have a good Thursday. I hope to see you again soon:)

God bless you, on this wonderful rainy day, here in Tennessee.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkASXisY9hQ

English: 2006 Jeep Wrangler TJ Golden Eagle Edition (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

One of my neighbors died over the weekend, but hold on. I’m not gonna leave you here with just that news, because God gives a gift in it.

This neighbor was a real man who was known by a nickname. He was usually alone, and could be any man, but I’m going to give him a fictitious name, to protect his privacy. Here, I’m going to call him “Johnny,” because his hard-scrabble life, which showed all over his whole self, reminded me of the musician Johnny Cash. Johnny Cash understood hard time.

My neighbor owned a Jeep Wrangler. He liked to wear some kind of camouflage and a sharp-looking wide-brimmed hat, with a long coat in winter. Some people used to complain that Johnny’s Jeep took up a parking space and he rarely, if ever, drove the Jeep. (People should understand that keeping  your ride helps keep your dignity).

Last night, I felt sad, seeing Johnny’s Jeep outside in the parking lot.

I parked my car beside it. Johnny kept his Jeep clean, although it’s old and rustic-looking, but not rusty. It’s the kind of Jeep with a tough fabric top and roll bars, open all-around.

The tread on the Goodyear radials is still good and the Jeep is a four-speed or five-speed, with maybe two clutches (?) extra pedals. I looked on purpose, but don’t know enough about vehicles to describe the Jeep just right. Johnny had taped over the top of the stick shift, where I’ve seen those speeds diagrams.

When I was out there looking at that Jeep, I felt mournful about Johnny, which is strange, to feel that way about a stranger, but it just shows how we are all connected somehow, and how each life matters. There was cloud cover last night and no stars could be seen and the train that runs nearby roared by, like a loud page turning.

The license plate on Johnny’s Jeep said “Polk” so I drove out to Polk County, Tennessee, on the open highway today, driving to feel better, lonely, with nothing else to do right now, with the window rolled down in my car.

I parked at the edge of the Cherokee National Forest sign and sat down and there was such beauty there, it looked like somebody painted it, with pine trees and shadows and light breezes and tiny lavender flowers with white centers and another kind of plant with delicate fuzzy blooms and water, the lonely lapping sounds, shimmering like diamonds, only better.

There were two men standing up in a boat, on Parksville Lake, so there were just the three of us, as far as I could see. The men stood and fished for a few minutes, very quiet and peaceful. Then they sat down and I heard the boat motor and the men in the boat. They went on through the water. The wake of that boat was so solitary and beautiful and gentle and pure. Finally, they disappeared on down the lake, looking for other places to fish, I guess.

Today, I believe God gave all this to Johnny, and He’s given this to all of us too, for Lent.

We know Johnny’s okay now, further on up the road, with God, and lots of friends. Isn’t God good, the way He pays such close attention, to each and every individual life, including us. Jesus said happy are the sad.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpIKQaIVA08

Valentines heart (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My son told me sometimes life is a fire walk. I believe him.

But we have to keep walking, through the fire and through the flood, so to speak.

Now there are yellow daffodils blooming, and drooping from rain too.

And this week is Valentine’s Day, a time to keep caring for each other, as much as possible, walking through the fire and through the water.

When I walked in front of the library today, a woman thought I was Jessica. “Are you Jessica?” she asked. I told her no, but that I hope Jessica got there soon.

It breaks your heart, doesn’t it, the way people keep looking and waiting for each other? Sometimes we find each other.

When I called my first brother today, he picked up the phone. My brother thought I was important. He is important too.

We are all important, living and hoping and struggling. We are firewalking! Together now! All the way through!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WfM6nRVBvGs

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Ponderosa pines seen from Summit in Scotts Bluff National Monument, Nebraska, USA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Today the Chattanooga Times Free Press banner headline says: “Stage is set for fracking in Tennessee.” It makes me sad.

Last week, I heard a guest lecturer at the Lee University math and science building, talking about the Ponderosa pines they cut down out west to get the natural gas, for consumers.

I was self-centered enough to ask the lecturer what happens to those pines that are cut down, since trees remind me of mothers, the ones who fail, but who still try to do good for their children.

“Oil and gas development will continue on private land,” the conservation biologist said. “They like the royalties and profits from cutting trees.” (Thank goodness, for national parks, protecting trees and wildlife).

The biologist also said the ranchers and landowners like it when the conservationists take care of the elk and mule deer.  That way, other rich people can pay to go on the land and shoot the elk and mule deer, for sport.

If you’d like, you can go to the United States Department of Agriculture National Resources Conservation Service website, to learn many wonderful things about Ponderosa pines, including all their good usefulness and the alternate names, like “Big Heavy” or “Bull Pine” or “Black Jack.” Affectionate nicknames are an honor, I think, because it means somebody loved you, or loves you, and somebody still loves trees, that God made.

There is also a lot more information about fracking in that newspaper article today. But it all boils down to doing unnatural things to God’s natural creation, even ruining the water, which has caught fire with methane in Pennsylvania.

Money meant all this to happen. God didn’t mean it to happen.

When I drove down 20th Street today, after sending a fax to find a job, I saw a little sign in a yard, in bold print and bright colors. The sign said: “God Loves You.” I didn’t make it up.

God meant that sign for you and for me. Let’s not give up, but I’m about to cry. There’s a big heavy ache in my heart, for all creation.

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Gentleness in Mosaic (Photo credit: Nutmeg Designs)

When I first wrote this piece, it was last year during the summer months. I told you about that kind dentist, who decided to help me with my teeth again, after a mishap. She said not to worry about money, which I thought was generous and kind and gentle of her.

Last summer, one day at lunchtime, we talked about good foods at lunchtime, including turnip greens and collard greens, if you like those. 

Ms. Hannah said it’s good to be thankful for what we have. Ms. Linda said she loves the color pink. Pink is a gentle color, isn’t it? (These are real people, but I give them fictitious names, to protect their privacy).

Here’s a peaceful Psalm…Psalm 18:35 New International Version: “You have given me the shield of Your salvation; Your right hand has held me up, Your gentleness has made me great.”

Isn’t that interesting, how King David wrote that Psalm, that God‘s gentleness made him great? God’s gentleness can make us great, able to love and serve Him, and other people.

It feels so peaceful when God (with time) helps edit out so much of the frightened anger and replaces it with His great gentleness, if we’ll let Him. He doesn’t force us, but He will help us get better and be better, if we let Him just sit with us and help us. A preacher I heard once said “God goes where He’s welcome.”

Back when I wrote this first, when it was still warm, I hoped to go to the gentle park with picnic tables and playful swings, nearby. I have walked over to see the beautiful water fountain on the way. At that fountain, you can just look in the clear water, where people have made all those gentle wishes, shining up.

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Soul Survivor by Philip Yancey (Photo credit: Jordon)

Then again, and yet, America also has preachers like Philip Yancey, a Christian writer who speaks the truth in love, who preaches the Good News of the Gospel, going to the best and worst of places, in the best and worst of times, shining God‘s light.

I found Yancey’s book “What Good is God? In Search of a Faith That Matters” at Books-A-Million. Yancey’s excellent book is also wonderfully illustrated, in shadow and light, by Klaus Ernst. The book’s copyright is 2010, but Yancey writes real and always relevant.

Topics Yancey and Ernst cover in this book include life’s tragedies, and how God reaches out to people in the highest and lowest places, performing His good will, although, so much of the time, it doesn’t seem good. In the first chapter, Yancey explains that this particular book about faith started as he and his wife were completing a tour to five cities, sponsored by his publisher.

The couple’s last stop in that tour was in Mumbai, India, in 2008. “As it happened,” Yancey writes, “that was the horrifying night when terrorists attacked tourist sites with grenades and guns, killing 172 people.”

Title chapters indicate wide-ranging places and times and events, including all humanity. They include: “Virginia Tech: Campus Massacre”; “China: Winds of Change”; “Green Lake: Professional Sex Workers”; “Cambridge: Remembering C.S. Lewis” and “Memphis: An Alternative Vision.”

There are other chapters, all timely, and timeless. I hope you can find a copy of this book by Yancey, illustrated by Ernst. Recently, I highlighted a passage from the chapter “Middle East: Church at Risk.” Yancey, an American, wrote: “How differently would the world view my country if it associated the U.S. with ‘the Jesus Syndrome’ rather than with weapons, wealth, and the ‘Baywatch syndrome”?

It’s a tiring and difficult battle and sometimes we fail. But we don’t have to worship the golden calves in America, or anywhere. We can get God’s Good News of Jesus out to the whole world, as best we can, here, there, and everywhere, to the ends of the earth.

Jesus gave us the Great Commission, to take the Gospel’s Good News unto all the world, from wherever God happens to have us, right now, in this place.

So today (emphasis mine) from Isaiah 40:9, New King James Version, we offer a Holy Shout!

“O Zion,

You who bring good tidings…

‘Behold your God!”

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English: A marshmallow that has been roasted over an open flame. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It was hard over at the center today, what with people pushin’ and shovin’ again and the sly blade too. The sly verbal (or non-verbal) blade (this time a woman) hurts most, straight to the heart, the unkindest cut. It’s hard to take the blade, if your heart feels like a marshmallow.

Marshmallows are good, once in a while. I don’t like the sweetsie puffy marshmallow stuff from a jar, but I like regular marshmallows, charred brown and almost burnt (controlled and careful burning), melting in the middle, on a stick.

Remember the “sit-upons” some of us made for camping trips? We did that in Girl Scouts. We stitched together (did I stitch?) some kind of oilcloth (waterproof) material into something we could sit upon, outside, on the ground.

Many years ago, in yet another Sunday School class, we started talking about camping out, of all things. (Jesus camped out a lot. Maybe that was it). Anyway, one honest man said: “I like to camp out at remote Holiday Inns.” That sounds better than rain and cold and the occasional scorpion in the tent. (Been there. Done that. Long ago).

Still, what can we do, when God lets the hard-hearted and frightening things (and people) hurt us inside, to mellow our hearts?

When I was driving over here, I had to slow down behind a little improv golf cart, hauling big blue trash cans in a wagon. It made a jangly sound and I glanced under the moving cart and there was some kind of hook or crook metal thing, attached and draggin’ on the pavement, soundin’ exactly like jingle bells.

When you hear that stranger’s jingle bells, and you know it’s not Christmas, it’s time to take care, back off and get away!

Earlier, when I parked and walked toward the library, a bumper sticker fluffed, “Don’t postpone joy.” Hell’s bells. I’m tryin’. Where’s the chocolate?

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