SCHOOL DAZED

It won’t be long and all the kiddos will finally return from spring break. It’s been the longest one in history, but they are so ready to be back. Many schools are opting for the hybrid plan – which allows two days of in school learning and three days online.

This virus has us all up in arms – more than a little afraid – unsure of the unknown and wondering if we will ever go back to the old way of doing things. We’re told on one hand that we must open things up again in order to restore order and a sense of stability. We’re also told we must wear masks, social distance and isolate as much as possible.

For the past few months, we’ve lived in a sanitized, purified, germ resistant environment. We’ve been placed in a prison of sorts with only occasional trips to the grocery store. Emotions are at an all time high and each of them is playing on us both mentally and physically. Those of us who want to follow the rules, wear our masks, make our shopping trips short and sweet, and stay home, while others think nothing of putting others at risk. The roads are filled more than the usual amount of crazy drivers. None of them is me however. Protests and riots continue, spreading more and more anger and hate.

My oldest grandson returned to South Korea last weekend to continue teaching there. He will need to stay in quarantine for two weeks before he can begin working again. My second grandson is settling into an apartment for his senior year of college, and my granddaughter will begin her senior year in high school in a few weeks.

The roller coaster ride has us feeling hopeful one day and in the toilet the next. I am one who tends to hold her emotions inside and then explode at some point to release them. You don’t want to be around me on those days.

The political rhetoric is nasty, slanderous and hateful. Tempers and patience run thin. People are being mask shamed. Can you imagine the bullying which might occur on our playgrounds – if they ever open up again?

Fear of the unknown surrounds us all right now. Will we have a job tomorrow? How can an artist survive this social distancing? The elderly among us are concerned for the younger generation while the kids often seem to have no fear. This is a difficult time for all of us. The “all in this together,” mantra seems ridiculous. We aren’t united anymore. In fact, I fear we’ve grown further and further apart.

However, as Americans, we are adaptable. We have an inner purpose that drives us. We can overcome obstacles without the use of a super hero cape. We can accept the fact that what we’re living today is the ‘new normal.’

So buck up! Pull up your bootstraps!! We can do this!!! We can survive whatever is thrown at us, because that’s who we are. I’m thinking of creating a mask with an image of the person wearing it, so we don’t forget what we look like. Yankee ingenuity is still alive and well and we will overcome.

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THROW BACK THURSDAY

Today is throw back Thursday and this photo popped up in my memories on Facebook. The day was a celebration of my mother’s second marriage. She’s the one with the bouquet in the middle. The others include my two beautiful daughters – Amy at about age 16 is in the back and Joy in the front at about age 10. My lovely sister, Carol, is wearing the hat and her husband, Bruce is next to her. There I am, between Carol and my husband Paul. Paul was sporting the Bob Ross hair and a suit and tie, which he never wears anymore.

This brought many thoughts to mind. Today I pray for my brother in law, Bruce as he undergoes heart surgery. I also pray that God will give my sister and her family the strength to get through all of this.

The photo doesn’t show my son, Bob, (age 14) who was angry that his grandma was getting married again, so he wouldn’t attend the wedding. He had fond memories of my dad. My two nieces are not pictured either. I’m not sure where they were.

Family can be such an important asset in building who we become. Our memories of good times and bad all mold us into our future selves. In this photo, I see five strong wonderful women. My mother is at the center of that. She started the ball rolling when my sister and I were just wee ones. She taught us, and we taught our children, the importance of being persistent, patient, compassionate and strong. The men we chose to marry were both filled with the same kind of virtues. We’ve survived many years of marriage. We’ve created our own families and forged a new line of people with those values already instilled in them.

We’ve all changed a lot since that picture was taken. My mother is in heaven. My children have children of their own. My husband no longer has hair on his head, so this is a great reminder that he once did. We’ve all changed physically, but the tie that binds us and gives us hope for the future has grown out of our faith in God.

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CHANGE

This word, “change.” is being bantered around a lot these days. We hear about climate change, changing our passwords and profile pictures. We’re told to change our bad habits. We must change the way we live to thwart off a disease. Even our churches are asked to change the way they do their services. Pastors have had to adapt to online sermons – no physical contact – no fellowship time. They can’t visit shut ins as they used to. The common cup at communion, and physically passing the unleavened bread has been replaced with a sterilized two sided cup in a plastic wrapping. Everything must be sanitized before and after each service.

Most of us don’t like change. We fight it. We try to avoid it. We naturally feel safe when we follow some kind of routine and structure.

My oldest grandson was resistant to change from a very young age. When his mother decided to paint his room a different color, he fought it every step of the way.

When I notice another wrinkle on my already road mapped face, I don’t like the change.

When our government is changing so much, we don’t recognize it anymore, we resist.

When marriage problems arise and affections turn to someone else, that change seems impossible to handle.

When we become so dependent on the voice of others for guidance, we turn into sheep and become a herd of lost lambs.

When law enforcement has no clout,

When political candidates can do nothing but bully one another,

When our only voice is determined by our vote, and even that is in question,

When schools open and every sniffle is contributed to COVID19,

When a loved one dies and we are left to live without them,

When the weather brings destruction and loss,

When our morals and values are challenged daily,

When the lives of the unborn are deemed insignificant and can be murdered before they breathe their first breath,

When it seems like we can’t keep up with this topsy-turvy planet and all the alterations being made by the second.

That is when we need to pray our hardest. God doesn’t need our prayers to make things happen. He doesn’t need our advice. He is God. He has everything all planned out in advance. He never changes. He is steadfast when the world closes in on us. He won’t let us face anything without also providing a solution. Yet, He loves to hear from us. He has opened the door to direct communication through His only Son, Jesus. That fact will never change. He loves us. He wants what’s best for us. He is consistent and we can depend on Him alone.

Jeremiah 29:11-13
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.

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REBORN

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

This painting was done plein air, at the newly restored Erickson Farm in Isanti, MN.  A perfect place to create art, this house has been reborn to serve as an event center, primarily for weddings.  When a place has good bones, there is still life in it.

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

A solid base with bones still strong.  A place where love and peace belong,

A fortress from the outside noise.  A buttress which retains our joys,

The inner walls were cracked and dry.   Like aging skin was doomed to die,

The roof was in some disrepair.  The windows needed loving care,

In time those things will pass away, but firmly planted it will stay,

If love resumes with owners new, they can make their dreams come true,

A house is just a place you see, but when God’s in it, you’re set free,

To do the things that must be done, to make it shine and add some fun,

With God a house becomes a home,  He builds His love within each room,

If He’s the rock on which we build, the inner walls will be fulfilled,

Turn to Him, the firm foundation, He gives hope and restoration.

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THANK HEAVENS FOR CATS & SQUIRRELS

Summer is winding down and even though this pandemic has chewed me up from time to time, I’m not going to let it spit me out. I’ll take my entertainment where ever I can get it.

We have a number of feral cats in our neighborhood. Some of the neighbors feel sorry for them and feed them, so they’ve lived life to the fullest. Since they are wild, we leave them alone, but they certainly are fun to watch. Add to the mix, a group of very busy squirrels on a quest for winter sustenance. They’ve been having a field day with the black walnuts which have recently tumbled to the ground.

Lately we’ve noticed a single chipmunk trying to get in on the action. We’ve only seen one, but he seems to get braver each day in the pursuit of a tasty morsel. The little intruder certainly is brave. Maybe I’m wrong and it’s a whole army of chipmunks, but they take turns making their way into the fray.

All of these critters and the occasional birds trying to get a taste of the bounty have created an unending adventure framed by the four windows in our dining room.

We’ve taken to naming some of these outstanding animals. One cat has been hanging around for all three of the years we’ve lived here. I think she’s the oldest and probably the mother of many of the others. Paul named her Crabby Face, because she’s got kind of a mean personality. However, over time, she’s been a bit more friendly. Especially when Paul fires up the grill. There are two yellow cats. The large one is named Goldie and her offspring is Cutie. My husband has never been a big fan of cats, but he seems to be tolerating Crabby.

The squirrels also have names. One apparently lost his tail in a fight. He’s called Stubby. Another is known as Nutsy. He’s been observed walking one of the electrical wires, balancing a twig with walnuts on each end. He’s quite the acrobat. The chipmunk/s name is Chipper.

Yesterday I washed the windows and it cleared up a whole new world for me. It’s amazing what that simple act of cleaning makes visible. Not wanting to be part of the political rhetoric and all the name calling and mudslinging, I took to watching the floor show in my own back yard. It made me chuckle at times. It took my mind off of all the feelings of imprisonment and helped me to shake off some of the depression this whole thing is causing.

The riots will continue. The protests won’t stop for a long time. The virus will go its course. The anger over politics will never end. Children will return to school and we may see another upsurge in the plague. Tempers will flare and depression may even hold us back, but still, God provides even for that. He gives us His creation to enjoy, to wonder at and to escape for a while.

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NEVER GIVE UP

“Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising which tempt you to believe that your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires courage.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

ART & INSPIRATION FROM PAUL & KATHY BOECHER

Today is “Never Give Up Day.” The above three paintings were done at Hudson, WI, the year prior to yesterday’s post. It was another competition of plein air artists. I’ve decided to post these today to show you that perseverance is required for the artist who makes his living making art. Each of these beauties is a testimony to Paul’s stick-to-itiveness.

Sitting in the hot sun, or under an umbrella to shade you or prevent your painting from bleeding to death, is often the price you pay for painting outdoors. You never know what’s going to happen from day to day, but you press on in hopes of overcoming the obstacles.

It also happens to be “Bad Poets Day,” so I will spare you my poetry, in honor of the day.

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MY ADVENTURES WITH CARS

My very first car was a 1950’s Ford Fairlane which was about to leave the world at any moment.  Fortunately I didn’t have to drive more than three miles a day to take my children to school.  When it finally did give up the ghost, we had to push it out of the driveway so a tow truck could carry it to it’s final resting place.

Next came my snappy, black Monte Carlo.  Snappy because it as a definite step up from the first.  I needed something more reliable since I had become a Tupperware salesperson and had to put on a lot more miles.  With that car, I learned how to start a dead car by sticking a pencil in the carburetor.  I also was able to drive it with a broken tie rod, with the assistance of my guardian angel. While on my way to a Tupperware party, Old Monty died on a busy bridge. A kind gentleman stopped to help.  When I told him my situation, he offered to take me to my destination with all my wares.  I could then phone my husband and have him call a tow truck.  I guess I was very naïve in those days.  I could’ve been kidnapped, but I took a chance.  The man offered to sell me some of the frozen meat he was purveying from his trunk.  I declined, but managed to get in a pitch for my product.  I told him I had some wonderful containers he could order for such items. I could’ve been placing my life in the hands of a serial killer, butt my protective armor was definitely covering me.

I finally graduated to a new car.  A Jeep.  This had been my husband’s car before me, so I knew it was well cared for.  While driving it one day, with a bevy of children, the stick shift came out as I downshifted to make a turn.  Again, my guardian angel was at the ready.  I rammed the stick back into place and continued on.

I eventually got my first very own, brand new car when I became a Tupperware manager. The Ford station wagon was perfect for carrying loads of products to my parties and for delivery of said products to awaiting customers. The first day I got that new car, I was so excited. My own car and it was new. Because I was used to driving a Jeep, this big old station wagon was a little wider than I anticipated and I scraped the whole driver’s side on the cement barrier which divided the highway. The car was replaced. Talk about embarassing.

I haven’t possessed many cars. When we were wealthy for a short time in our marriage, I inherited my husband’s red Camaro convertible and then moved on to a family sized van which carried us on a few fun cross country vacations. From the van, I went to a little red Pontiac Sunbird, which I purchased all by myself.

I’m currently driving a five speed, shift on the floor, 2001 Saturn coupe. This car was a gift from my son. When my little red station wagon finally died, I wasn’t in a position to buy one. He had since purchased a truck and this one was sitting idle for a couple years. What a blessing it’s turned out to be. It’s an older model, but it only has 150,000 miles on it and it gets me where I need to go. Talk about the car driven by a little old lady. The mileage alone is amazing, but like me, it’s still kicking!

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HE’S TALKING TO US. LISTEN!

It must have been wonderful to communicate directly with God as did men of ancient times.  Though they couldn’t see Him, they were given the benefit of His spoken word.  We still have the ability to communicate with our Heavenly Father.  The words of the Holy Bible are His actual voice – written by inspired men of God.

The world has strayed from the truth of the Bible.  Some churches have steadily manipulated the words to fit their own needs.  Some have chosen to become politically correct or to create church bodies that are more like country clubs than houses of worship.  They  administer forgiveness to those who have sinned, but are still shackled to it.  To some it becomes a place to feel good about yourself and your own accomplishments.

The devil is eager to weasel his way into our churches and corrupt the message – to fool us into thinking that we don’t really need a savior.  I believe that in order to have the best relationship with God, we must first come to Him in repentance.  We are told in His word to acknowledge our sin and ask for forgiveness.  It’s through that simple task that He begins working in us.

Jesus associated with all kinds of people.  He wasn’t crazy about the way the church had been corrupted and on more than one occasion He voiced His opinion about it.   His ministry was intended for the salvation of all.  He didn’t condone sinful behavior including the corruption of His Fathers house.  

He did not come to save just the religious elite.  He ministered to the lowest of society – including tax collectors, prostitutes and those who were ignored because of communicable diseases or poverty.  That same ministry continues when His Word is present.

Dear Lord, thank you for leaving the wonderful legacy for me and the entire world.  Through it I daily receive strength, confidence, assurance, faith and an amazing love story which you have written for me and all believers.  Now in these difficult times, I ask for your intervention, knowing that you will bring order out of everything we face each day. Amen!

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PAINTING COMPETITIONS

“Now I see the secret of making the best person, it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.” – Walt Whitman

 “Live in the sunshine, swim in the sea, drink the wild air’s salubrity.”  Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Life is full of beauty. Notice it. Notice the bumble bee, the small child, and the smiling faces. Smell the rain, and feel the wind. Live your life to the fullest potential, and fight for your dreams.” – Ashley Smith

Many of you already know this. My husband is a plein air painter. He teaches others to paint in the open air, in spite of weather conditions. His little group of students enjoy the comradery and the study of light and shadows. I’ve gone along a few times, but prefer to paint in the air conditioned comfort of our home. Everyone has their own way of doing art.

Paul used to participate in competitions for plein air artists. These events usually consist of three or four days filled with painting. A site is chosen, paint is placed on pallets and the contest begins. Within that time period the paint three individual paintings. It’s kind of a marathon of sorts and requires a lot of dedication and endurance. As his age has somewhat limited him the past couple of years, he no longer does the competitions.

The paintings above were done in Hudson, Wisconsin, five years ago at one of these events. As with competitions of any kind, they can become grueling. Sometimes he misses being part of them, but I think he’d rather paint at sites of his own choice and create art for others, not to prove anything.

God creates masterpieces. He gives those creations life and breath. He provides them with landscapes and water. He fills the skies with clouds. Sometimes they are as clear as a bell. He gives his creatures the ability to produce their own masterpieces. Some become brilliant scientists while others find their talent in music. Some will achieve a place in business or finance while others excel in social skills and communication. Each of us has been endowed with something even more important. We have been given the gift of eternity, where life goes on forever.

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ON THE EASEL AT RASPBERRY ISLAND

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

The artist follows a journey of his own making,

Traveling down a road less wandered,

Trying to catch the light,

Searching desperately,

For the right subject matter,

A vagabond living in the moment,

On an expedition,

An adventure,

An unexplored trail,

He sets his easel,

Makes ready his paint,

A virtual studio in the great outdoors,,

He attaches a canvas, fills his palette with color,

And waits,

For just the right light,

The right glisten of the water,

The perfect stillness and mood,

And then it begins

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SUMMER FIREWORKS

Photo Credit – Aaron Lavinsky, Star Tribune

Yesterday the night time skies exploded with the power of God. The end of a hot, humid August day was devoid of a sunset. Instead it was replaced with a slowly darkening sky and lightening which filled the expanse with electrical fireworks. Minnesota is known for its fantastic summer weather. We don’t have hurricanes, earthquakes or Tsunamis, but we are well known for tornadoes,, straight line winds, wind chills and blizzards. Still, Minnesota is the source of many summer retreats to the cabin and fun on a lake.

Last night’s storm brought God’s special effects into the forefront. Ominous clouds appeared on the horizon as Paul quickly tended to some low lying branches on our black walnut tree. Tornado sirens sounded as Friday night prime time TV was overtaken by local weather information. For three hours the quickly changing reports floated across the screen, warning us to take cover. Paul always tells me to take cover, but then proceeds to continue watching the skies. I reminded him of that.

The sky went through so many changes with that storm. It started turning yellowish at about 5 PM. It then slowly filled with blackened clouds. Soon the familiar greenish color appeared. Then the clouds began to churn like blackened whipping cream spinning in a mixing bowl. Within a very short time, the clouds let loose and all the humidity stored in them fell violently to the ground. The rain was mixed with hail at times. Wind made it appear to be falling horizontally for a while. The furious lightening cruised across the heavens as rumbles of thunder shouted the presence of God.

The actual storm, in our neighborhood, lasted for maybe 20 minutes and quickly moved on to the next community. As it left, the sky began to turn orange. I suppose because the sun was about to set and the rays from it were being exposed. When it began to turn red, I almost wondered for a moment if this was our last day on earth and Jesus would soon appear in the clouds. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the ca=e. Instead we were treated to an amazing sunset of red, gold, silver and yellow.

It made me think of how powerful God is. Mankind has still not found a way to control the weather. For now, we are sitting in the midst of a pandemic. Our political climate is creating even more division amongst us. Corruption runs rampant. Violence rings in our streets and horrific acts of terror, hatred and anger rage. Emotional stability is out of control. Still our God never changes. He alone controls the spinning of the earth, the storms and the power of his breath.

To imagine that He is looking out for each and everyone of us gives me complete rest. He won’t let us go, if we hang on tightly to Him.

“Hast thou an arm like God? or canst thou thunder with a voice like him?”

Job 40:9

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MY HUSBAND, THE PROP

Paul visited the sunflower fields again yesterday to paint outdoors. This place and several more fields around us have become wonderful photo locations for senior pictures, engagement, anniversaries, family pictures and so much more. Photographers come with their clients and take beautiful shots amidst these glorious flowers.

Yesterday, as Paul painted, a photographer came along and asked if she could take pictures of him doing so. She sent some to him this morning, along with a note of thanks. She noted that he made a great PROP. I had to chuckle. He’s considering having business cards made up saying, Paul Boecher, Artist & Prop.

I guess we all have certain labels that identify us and when we’re openly displaying what our gifts are, it’s nice to be noticed by others – one art form working from another.

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I WISH I HADEN’T SAID THAT

Words spill out of my mouth thoughtlessly,

Unyielding my tongue pushes them into the world.

Where did those words come from?

My mind does not take the time to realize

The way they could be interpreted,

The way they could hurt,

The way they could humiliate, insult, berate.

I need to put a bridle on my words.

To rein in the emissions of my mouth.

I cannot do this alone.

I need help.

I need the only One who can give me forgiveness.

I call on the Almighty King of Creation.

He will look past my ugliness,

He will quiet my loss of control.

He will lead me in the path He has chosen for me.

Even when I choose to stray.

Even when I walk my own way.

Even when I forget about Him.

He is there.

He alone can control the words that I speak.

He will lead me to do what is right.

To chose my words carefully.

To ask forgiveness from any that I have hurt with the words I use..

 

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JULIE’S FRIDAY FUNNY

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THE OUTDOOR PAINTER

Painting outdoors at Parley Lake Winery

ART & INSPIRATION BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

For many years, my husband painted in various plein air competitions in our area.  My itinerate outdoorsman thrived on this type of painting and still does, however the competitive part of it has waned over the past couple years.  To look at the process, it would appear to be as easy as pie to go set up an easel and paint for the day.  Competitive painting requires more than that.

You can plan to be at the event for at least three days of solid painting. You must find your own location to paint.  You load up your gear and trudge deeper into the space.  You fight with mosquitos, weather events (rain, excessive heat, humidity and poor air quality) and you finally get started.

Competitive art can be brutal in other ways too, if you let it.  You’re trying to do your best work.  You’ve spent some hefty entrance fees.  You may have to provide accommodations for your stay, which means another layout of cash.  You’ve purchased fresh paints, canvases and lots and lots of water to keep you hydrated throughout the day.  Sometimes, like us writers, you’re faced with a blank page, a gorgeous location, perfect light and no inspiration – only a desire to create beautiful art that might win a monetary prize or lead to a sale of some of your work.

There is a bright side to this type of painting though.  You make new friends.  You swap ideas.  You learn from each other. You share your craft.  You are forced to make art in a short period of time and it usually is some of the best you’ve ever done.  At the final judging, you may never have heard of the judge, but your hopes are high.  Judging of any kind of art is usually in the eye of the beholder and often subjective, but for the most part, they are fair.

The awards are given out.  You’ve made some new friends and contacts.  Several people have viewed your work and commented positively on it.  Collectors and other customers are in the audience.  It’s a sort of marketing experience I guess.  However, as age grabs a hold of us, the competitive side of our nature slows down too.  It gets harder and harder to fight the elements – to move around as quickly as you once did  – to haul a heavy load – to come up with the necessary funds.

Today, Paul still paints outdoors.  It’s his favorite type of painting.  He loves being in nature.  He enjoys the sounds of birds chirping and the rustling of trees.  He now teaches it to others through the art center he works for.  He continues to share his love for plein air painting through example.  He doesn’t have the pressure of competing and he can relax while doing it.

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PRISONER IN MY OWN HOUSE

Nearing the end of another week in La La Land. It seems time is flying by so quickly since this whole pandemic reared its ugly head. I’m beginning to realize what it’s like to be a prisoner. The stories of those incarcerated for no apparent reason comes to mind. I, for one, have receded into world of old movies on TV.

In 1965, Gregory Peck appeared in one called, “Mirage.” I love Gregory Peck and don’t believe I’ve ever seen this particular flick. It’s the story of a man who has been duped into believing that two years of his life have disappeared. There are the good guys who find his story unbelievable, but will help him for a buck. There are the villains who continue to perpetuate the lie. There is Gregory, with his furrowed brow and rugged good looks, who is being played like a pawn in a chess game.

Gregory’s character was both the hero and victim. He wasn’t in jail, but his mind had been captured by the greed of the dishonorable folks who were trying to retrieve a formula which would make them rich. In the end, good conquers evil and there is a happy ending. It could’ve been like a Shakespeare play and everyone dies in the end, but in the sixties, movies rarely ended in tragedy.

In my effort to escape, it made me realize that we’re all in a sort of prison right now. We can believe the conspiracy theorists and think this disease is politically motivated. We can feel like sheep being led to the slaughter. We can wallow in our depression or even become suicidal. The world continues to revolve and life goes on. All the fears and concerns that used to bother us have been magnified. Feelings of paranoia can occur. If we feed into all the outside noise, it can turn us into zombies.

My suggestion for how to deal with this will seem pointless to some. I’ve turned to old movies for escape which is only a temporary fix. Besides who wants to hear advice from an old woman? There really is no pat answer. Everyone will find their own refuge. One thing is certain. Life goes on. Even though our problems don’t disappear, but seem to grow larger, we have hope.

” Behold, the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me. I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” John 16:32-33

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IN YOUR DREAMS

“And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams:”Acts 2:17

I am known to have some really weird dreams. Some of them have led to a solution of a problem, such as the time we had three wonderful actresses audition for the role of the White Queen in Narnia. I went to bed that night wishing we could use all of the girls. I dreamed about a White Queen with three heads and one body. We actually wound up going with it

I’ve had dreams that raise the hairs on the back of my neck. There were those that seemed so real, I would wake in a cold sweat believing they were true. I’ve dreamed in technicolor as well as black and white. I’ve dreamed of those long ago departed and the living as well. They often come together in my dreams.

I believe the days of prophesies regarding our salvation have been fulfilled. However there is still that one book in the Bible – Revelation – which points to the end of time. Are we living in those days right now? Are there still prophesies to be fulfilled? We will not know until it happens, because God tells us that He’s the only One with that knowledge. In any case, we need to be prepared. Our hearts and minds must be focused our Savior and Redeemer, Jesus. When the day of judgment comes, we will be held accountable. Justice will finally prevail.

There is no question in my mind that we’re living in the end times. The Word of God has pointed to what things will be like right before Christ returns. That day can be frightening or it can be more majestic and wonderful than anything we could ever dream up on our own. Paradise is waiting for those who trust and believe in God. Satan can’t defeat Him. He’s already been defeated.

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RESTORATION

 

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

The paint is peeling, windows cracked, a shutter hangs on tight,

One lost the battle long ago, it lost its will to fight,

The whitewashed fence could use some love, the grass needs cutting too,

It seems there is no life inside, but that just isn’t true.

 

This house once held a family, but now there’s only one,

A sweet, old, white haired woman waits and hopes someone will come,

She sits in her old rocking chair, recalling days gone by,

She thinks of days when she was young, a tear then fills her eye.

 

The days grow short, the time flies by, she thinks of heaven more,

The life is being sapped from her, death’s knocking at her door,

But still she waits – anticipates a friendly face or voice,

To break up the monotony which never was her choice.

 

We’ll all grow old and suffer loss, our dreams may shatter too,

We will  long for conversation, some laughs would also do,

The aging process isn’t fun for those who cling to life,

But having folks around you will eliminate the strife.

 

When lonely years and constant tears become your daily fare,

When looking out a window cannot take away your care,

It’s time to look within yourself, see what you still possess,

You can still recall your blessings, then joy will acquiesce.

Posted in ART & POETRY BY THE BOECHERS, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Cardboard fan in stable condition after being hit by foul ball

This is a share from Bluebird of Bitterness.  

From The Onion. BOSTON—Assuring Red Sox Nation that the cutout would make a full recovery, General Manager Brian O’Halloran told reporters Friday …

Cardboard fan in stable condition after being hit by foul ball
Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Comments

HELP! I’M STUCK IN MY SHELL!!

Pearl-in-shell_square

I’ve always had issues with my self image.  I’m not sure what caused it, but it may have to do with a need to please everyone.  I now realize that giving up my own thoughts in favor of friendship is not healthy.  I may even have gone to the opposite extreme, feeling that my ideas are the only ones that hold any merit.  In either case, I’ve often found solace in retreating into my shell.

With the way the world is currently turning, depression is hitting an all time high.  Prior to the pandemic, we only had to concern ourselves with faltering health issues –  getting our children from here to there – earning enough to get from one pay check to another – and whether we would get out of bed in the morning.  There were other things too.  Many face really tough problems like cancer, pending treatments, loss of a loved one, a broken marriage, addiction, unwanted pregnancy, a devastating financial loss or any number of pain filled matters.

When our world spins out of control, as it has for the past few years, our natural inclination is to hide from it.  We retreat to our own world and often become a part of the problem. However, sometimes it’s good to step away from life as we know it today.  In our distancing or in our shell, there can be the makings of a beautiful gem.  The clam that creates a priceless pearl isn’t going to change the world, but for those who take a moment (not forever) to retreat, regroup, renew, refresh and restore, there is hope for the future.

God has promised us a future.  His Word is filled with passages to confirm that.  This world is just a temporary place.  It isn’t always a good place.  It’s often shadowed with darkness and fearful situations, but we have been added to the population for a purpose.  Each one of us has something to offer.  If we simply stay in that shell, no one will ever know the beauty we can bring.  No one will see our uniqueness.  We all have the power to change things, but we won’t if we stay locked in that shell of self pity.

It’s time to make yourself known.  You are special.  You are a masterpiece created by the God of the Universe.  You can make changes, even if they’re small.  Just do it.

Posted in corona virus, depression, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments