Looking In The Mirror

….I have longed for contentment where God’s concerned


(R.I.P. Michael Jackson)


A cool breeze penetrates my soul as the warmth from above has grown cold. The summer’s heat has turned into fall as the rainy weekends set the stage for the upcoming holidays. I so love the extravagant colors! Things so green turn brightly bold in shades of brown, yellow and gold. But the shades of gray tell the story. Reflecting on my moonlit night, I sail my heart onto calm waters. Thanking God for the gift of life, I finally made it to my golden times.

The winds whirl from around the edge and gathering summer’s foliage becomes quite an obstacle. Raking up the flower beds, my little pansies are about to bloom.

Even in our darkest days, we all want flowers to warm our spirits.  Sunflower

Coming inside to escape the chill, a hot shower may thaw my weary soul. Shedding the layers, I catch a glimpse of something in the mirror. Taking a second look, it must have been my mind playing tricks on me. So a steamy resolute will resonate my body, cleansing my thoughts. My eyes closed, I ask only for forgiveness and my heart is cleansed.

Realizing this is only second best to a full blown baptismal in the Jordon River, I’m rejuvenated. God can use me for what’s next. Opening the door, a steamy mirror clearly sends me a message…

All of us, sometimes, wonder if our direction is correct.

A sense of relief has assured my intent. My life full circle, a man with many directions, had shunned religion as I followed my own path. Wronged so many, consciously speaking, I have longed for contentment where God’s concerned. And there on my mirror just one word – “Blessed”.

Looking in the Mirror


Related Articles:
And I will make them and the places round about my hill a blessing; and I will cause the shower to come down in his season; there shall be showers of blessing. (Ezekiel 34:26)

But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:19)

Know therefore that the LORD your God, He is God, the faithful God, who keeps His covenant and His loving kindness to a thousandth generation with those who love Him and keep His commandments (Deuteronomy 7:9)

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:9)

I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. (Ezekiel 36: 25-27)

Engraved Hurts

Like soldiers on a battleground, our persistent thoughts are marching on….


We sit across the table from each other and the tension rises like ocean waves before a hurricane. Our hearts ache from the daily frustrations. Words fly like cannonballs across the bow. The night is lighting up from the fiery hurts and our broken souls is damforgiveness 2aging our spirits. There is not a “sorry” that can mend the fury; no kindness is coming from giving; no hugs healing the hardened hearts; just short little snippets that become too repetitive to hear. I’m asking for grace to bring some peace to the table. But when two hearts aren’t in sync, God has His work cut out for Himself. Our love is souring like month old milk.

Love, like spring pollen, carries off to a neighbor’s lawn; walls are retaining the temper and silence is becoming enemy number one. So my conscience knocks on heaven’s gates and I’ll pray for our Lord to hear my heart. But like statues in the wind, the prayers are standing guard of the present. Life, cruel at times, has no invitation. Joy, the ultimate restorer between two hearts, is waiting on the other side.

mignon mclaughlin

I’m in awe watching the tears as they flow and sorrow can’t explain the reckoning. Blame is passing like vegetables at Thanksgiving. There is no rhyme or reason. Our Lord sits at the head of the table trying to join our hearts in prayer. Stubborn though, our minds are overruling the prayers. Like soldiers on a battleground, our persistent thoughts are marching on…. I’m carrying the flag trying to surrender but our guns are still drawn.

Morning arrives and a tranquility, like the dew from the night before, is falling over the engraved flowers. Hearts are listening to subconscious minds as we cease fire. Over early coffee, our guns are holstered. An anointing brings a smile as the sun breaks through the thunder. Love is being restored and the sun is warming little petals. God, the only true peacemaker, is reigning over the battlefields of our minds. We sit in peace and the quiet sermon is coming as the gentle breeze rings the wind chimes.

I’m asking myself, could this have been avoided? Unequivocally, yes, if God is first and past hurts are left by the headstones of our deceased memories. We’re limping away, now handicapped from the wounds encountered from the night before.

Mandrell

So, here we are off on our busy day….people to meet, bills to pay, and our Lord is holding down the fort. We are marching off, alone, to fight our own personal battles…

 

Religion Blogs
blog directory

EDITOR NOTES:  Did you ever hurt the person you loved?  Did you say unwanted things?  If you have hurt someone you loved, it is not easy to repair this mistake.  It is time to seek forgiveness.  You may have to go to great lengths to win over the trust once again.

Watch your words in a fit of temper and weigh the pros and cons of every word you utter. If you want to express your anger at an event, target the incident and not the person.

Be truly repentant…

 


Related Articles:

A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. (Proverbs 15:1)

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; … (1 Corinthians 13:13)

And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.   (1 Peter 5:10)

 


forgiveness

Mother’s Slippers

….for your children know not your footsteps you have walked


The day breaks and exasperating as life is, will we ever understand the meaning of it?? Reflecting on my mother’s spirit, her heart was in the right place. But we had our moments and it took me a long time to forgive her.

Situations merit decisions with consequences unbeknownst to our children. I, too, fell into that category. Generations later, little explains of a mother’s woes. I will never walk a yard in my mother’s footsteps. I remember the blood, sweat, and tears that came from my growing up years. A lady of stature, eloquence and reprise, I had no idea the hell she lived through all her life.

My thoughts of her linger as I watch the path you meander. God, I pray to grant you serenity, for your children know not your footsteps you have walked. Love is very deep and the hurts resonate from within. Blessed are the weak yet strong in their venue. I walk in your presence; I reach out to comfort your spirit. The harm is immeasurable, as children try to ruin a mother’s love. I listen to your silence as though it screams, like drifts of sand that crest in a storm.

A child might walk in a mother’s steps yet never wear her slippers. I, a mere child of wisdom and respect, can only now relate to the dust storms of my mother’s childhood. I watch this generation, with reflections of my own, resonating from the sixties. Though life was different, hardships are similar.

Testing the time, a mother’s love captivates the mind. All God’s creatures, instinctively, protect the bond. Yet, I watch those who try to revolt, losing themselves when their own offspring arise. Realizing their mistakes, as bi-products conquer in agony, they fight for the same respect of their own predecessors.

Quietly, I sit and watch the yearlings taking turns yielding to their parents. It just doesn’t matter if you fly or walk; children should learn “respect” of the age-old value of seniority. Today, the thought saddens me that we, as kids, didn’t learn the valuable lessons. Those who follow, think that at birth, they already know more than their parents.

But, scrap albums tell who wore the apron strings; for those that sat for the fMother's Slippersamily portrait, she bore the kids upon her lap; her arms stretched out encompassing them. And as you look closer at that old family portrait… notice “Mom’s Slippers”, worn out, against the couch. God love you, Mom……

 

 Religion Blogs
Religion

 


Related Articles:

Bible:  Galatians 4:19     “My little children, for whom I labor in birth again until Christ is formed in you…”

Bible:  2 Timothy 1:5      Be a woman of God  – “When I call to remembrance the genuine faith that is in you, which dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice, and I am persuaded is in you also.”)

What does it mean to honor my father and mother?  https://www.gotquestions.org/honor-father-mother


Christian Writers
– FaithWriters.com, the Ultimate Community for Christian Writers.

Recollection

God has somehow blocked the hurt within the heritage that shadowed a little boy’s childhood.


Last night, I sat in the most unusual place, and wrote my pastor a short story. It wasn’t so unusual for me to write where I was, but, thoughts came as I reflected back. Looking at life, like headlines, seemed to put it all in perspective. There, the highlights of my life, were dampened like a Saturday shower at a baseball game. God has somehow blocked the hurt within the heritage that shadowed a little boy’s childhood dreams. I’m not alone as I’m sure there are who have lost their parents. For all who can relatDana's dade, I write some memories…….      

Divorce, an act of closure, should never pertain to a child’s recollection. Children, somehow, seem to be a denominator in the equation. At the age of five and left alone, my parents fought amongst themselves. Like pawns on a chessboard, I was disposable. God is nowhere to be found except in our home at bedtime. Their selfish ways dictated their priorities. As a young child, I faltered in the melee, trying to break away as life frustrated me.  But history repeats itself.

My father’s father, a great man, bore a child of great vision that died too young to see his own grow up. So, alone, my soul was a dormant cavern where sharing memories were non-existent. I, lost in life and rejected by most, was perceived as slow and a little retarded. Dyslexia wasn’t even known as a word yet. I would sit in the corner and play with my toys and fantasize what it would be like when I grew up. I entertained myself throughout my early life. 

Mom remarried in the same church where my father’s name was engraved on the gold plated shovel that stands quietly in the vestibule. At eight years old, my little legs shook as the pews filled to watch the happy ceremony. My older brother and I looked on and wondered what happened to the man we called “Pop”. The voids stood tall and the childhood gap, between this and that, left little to be put in a scrapbook. Memories now fill an old man’s life with loss. The holidays and tree trimmings are a mere shadow against the window. Looking back, as pain remains, we must endure from generation to generation. Life has no reverse. 

On this day, I celebrate a man who gave me the inspiration to go on without him.  “Happy Birthday Pop”, who passed away at the tender age of forty-two.  I look to God; not to ask why, but instead, “thank you” for the brief moments I’ve had to remember the father who, once, was in my life. He is now an angel sent back to anoint my direction.  God has, undoubtedly, brought me the strength to go on a journey driven only by faith.