SIGNS EVERYWHERE

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ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

This mural is in the underground parking area of a lovely retirement community in our area.  Paul and his plein air group of artists spent many hours creating a number of murals last summer in the heat and humidity.  We look for signs and sometimes they are apparent – the budding trees of spring, the first new growth on our lawns – the robins that make their appearance.  There are signs all around us.  All we need to do is see them. God will make them known to us.

The road is full of stumbling blocks, we see them every day,
Our path is full of hiccups which toughen up the way,
Our journey to eternity is filled with indecision,
We struggle through all daily tasks, requiring supervision,
The signs that lead to nowhere, just clutter up our walk,
We can’t decide which way to go, we simply talk the talk,
But when we walk with Jesus, our road is made quite clear,
The things that seemed impossible, lose all their haunting fear,
Our daily walk is easy when we simply trust in Him,
We’ll reach our destination and in the end we win!

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FADED MEMORY

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Photograph of my mom and dad along with my sister and I.  I’m the one in front on the left.

It’s only been two weeks since we celebrated Easter in a totally different way.  Our rejoicing was muted.  Our voices were somewhat silent.  Our hearts were filled with the message that because Jesus was resurrected, we will be too.  We shared a ham dinner.  We Zoomed with family.  It was strange, because we couldn’t be together with friends and family.

Now those weeks have past and I’m ready for a recharge.  In a world cocooned because of a microscopic germ, where is the joy?  It does still exist, whether we can see it or hear it, or not.  Jesus rose from the grip of death, on the third day after His bloody crucifixion. He had suffered the scourge, beyond human endurance. He carried His cross on His weakened back, as those who only a week before praised Him as their King.  They now mocked and jeered – spat in his face and hurled insults at Him.

We as a people generally thrive on togetherness.  This Easter we were deprived of it, yet our Savior willingly gave up everything so that we could inherit His Kingdom in heaven. The joy is still there.  We weren’t able to shout our Alleluias or sing praises with a choir.  Our voices were silenced, but our joy still remains.

The gift of salvation is something we should carry with us every day.  We have been blessed with a loving God, who gave the ultimate sacrifice to give us eternal life.  The grave couldn’t hold Him.  He returned to life and lives on as we will too someday.

What we’re enduring right now is nothing compared to what He gave up for us.  Now is the time for us to love one another, as He commanded before His death.  Now is the time to share the good news with others so they can be blessed by it. Now is the time to thank God for His mercy.  Now is the time to look at what’s really important – to set aside the material things – to work with what we’ve got – to help each other – to reach out with social media or whatever tools we have at hand.

We’ve been given this time of quiet to meditate on what’s really important.  Let’s remember the greatest gift given to humanity over two thousand years ago.  Jesus is alive and we are forgiven.  He is risen indeed.

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SATURDAY SOUND OFF

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Saturday seems as good a day as any to rant.  I try not to do so, but it’s trending today, so I thought I’d get on the bandwagon.  What stage of grief are we in now?  What’s happening in our brains?  Do I have enough toilet paper?  What day is it?

I’m part of the “Silent Generation” or more commonly known as a Traditionalist. We all have our pluses and minuses, but many of us old timers seem to think that the newbies are on the road to destruction.  Every generation has its good and bad sides.

I grew up in an age of discovery which brought us the first automatic washing machine, the first television set and beautiful gas guzzling cars. Everyone knew all the words to the National Anthem; Coke was something you drank from a bottle; recycling meant taking that bottle back for two cents. Our entertainment consisted of going to a movie on Saturday and spending the entire day watching the same movie over and over for a quarter. Disposable bottles, diapers, etc. were unheard of. Fast food was a sandwich we made ourselves. Our “social media” was getting together at a friend’s house to talk.

Our current younger generation are those who will not experience the pageantry of a real graduation – those who will not go to their Senior prom – those who have been through the good, the bad and now the ugly – those who will be running our country in the next few years.

These unique young people will become a generation of problem solvers, creative thinkers, money managers, inventive and innovative thinkers all because their world was turned upside down by a little germ.  They will be the second greatest generation, because they have experienced plenty or at least enough.  They have been on the cutting edge of technology.  They have seen their nation at its worst and at its best.

These are the kids who were born when a terrorist plot was launched against our country on 9/11.  They saw a spacecraft disintegrate in mid-air costing the lives of many astronauts.  They were exposed to the dark side of humanity as bombs were set off on city streets.  The huddled together as a shooter invaded the safety of their schools and set another kind of terrorism off.  These kids watched friends die before their young eyes.

Then came COVID19.  Through this event, they were again tested.  They came up with ideas.  They learned to use their time wisely.  They grew compassionate towards each other.  This may have been caused by necessity, but that germ grew much more than disease.  It grew into a strong, caring, inventive, creative, smart and hopeful generation – a generation that wouldn’t give up.

Instead of focusing on what we’re having to give up through this pandemic, let’s start appreciating what’s happening because of it.  I get weary of all this isolation, just like everyone else.  I don’t like being cooped up.  I refuse to wear a mask.  I don’t want to become a nation under Marshall law.

Still, I live in the greatest country in the world.  I will stand strong for her, not because of who is leading or making decisions for her, but because I am an American.  Our history has been relatively short, but we have had the opportunity to learn from our past and move forward because of it.   We began as a nation under God.  Let’s get back to that precept and trust that God has this!

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ONCE UPON A TIME … THE FACE OF GOD

Never before in the history of time had the sky been so clear. Only an occasional cloud hung there as a reminder. Rain came when the soil dried – only when necessary. It was so clear, some thought they could see the face of God.

People were still confined to the safety of their homes. Big factories were becoming extinct, because the workers could no longer be socially distanced. Packing companies were shutting down because there was no one to process the meat. Pigs and chickens were not able to be processed in the usual way. Invention gave way to necessity and the use of machines replaced laborers. More jobs were eliminated.

Those who worked from home were beginning to enjoy the routine. It took a while, but they adapted as man has done since the beginning of time. Children became accustomed to learning from a computer generated image of their teachers, yet they missed the human connection of the classroom. Lessons were done quickly and thus more free time was available to them.

This time of adaptation was giving way to a new way of life for all ages. The elderly became more adept at technology, because it was the only way they could communicate with their friends and family. It even saved a few steps for them to text each other within the same dwelling place when it was time to eat.

The atmosphere was cleaner, families were growing closer, meals were eaten at a table – together – and they were made in the kitchen. What a novel way of doing things. This gave them an opportunity to share their problems, needs and they actually became closer because of it.

The economy was tanking, but it wouldn’t last. People always do their best when under pressure. New ideas and inventions would come from this and make life more manageable on a much simpler scale. Classrooms remained empty for the rest of the school year. Graduations were canceled. Celebrations were set aside. Beaches were closed. The joyful days of summer were approaching and they didn’t know if they’d be able to bear the extended time inside.

It would never be as it was in the past. This long period of isolation was beginning to force people to change their perspective on the old ways. They were coming up with ways to entertain themselves. They became creative. They tried new things. It was an adventure of sorts – until boredom set in.

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DID YOU MISS ME?

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Yesterday was my day to go grocery shopping. I like to go early because there aren’t too many people – just us elderly folks – who they think get up at 5 AM.  What do they know and who are “they” anyway.  I donned my latex gloves because I don’t want to get COVID19, nor do I want to spread germs, but it was really because I love to sweat.  NOT!  My hands are becoming dry from all the washing and hand sanitizer.  They could use a little extra moisture, so I shouldn’t complain.

Shopping has become my only outing for the week, so I visited three different stores to get the best deals.  I got dirty looks because I wasn’t wearing a mask.  I coughed once and got more dirty looks.  I am notoriously coughing and wheezing at this time of the year anyway, because of allergies which affect my asthma, so I’m not sure if they are acting up or I’m five days away from death’s door.

Even though grocery shopping has never been high on my list of favorite things to do, I look forward to it now.  That is until I get home and have to unload and unpack.  Not to mention loading and packing on the other end.

At one store the checkout line was extremely long and I noticed there was only one cashier, so I opted for self-checkout.  I only had fifteen items.  By the time I finished scanning and packing and it was time to insert my bank card, there were fifteen others lined up behind me – glaring angrily.  Some folks are extremely kind and patient while others would sooner see you smashed into a grocery cart and sent on your way..

I got home and only had an hour to unload, wash things off and put away – then wash my hands again, which are about to fall off now.  I was to teach a digital drama class to those 55+.  It’s really been quite interesting.  It takes me and my people half the class time to figure out this new technology, but even that can be entertaining. One of the class members couldn’t be seen by the others.  Instead of her lovely face, all we could see was a green blob, which looked like some kind of creature from the Black Lagoon, or at least imaging from an MRI or Cat Scan.  Teaching improvisation in this format is quite a challenge, but leads to some serious comedy.

By the time I finished I was exhausted, thus my blog never did get any attention. By the time I sat back to relax in the evening, I started coughing.  I coughed for about ten minutes and was almost sure I had the “Virus.”  I opted for going to bed early, but woke up a few times to cough during the night.  I did wake up this morning.  I’m not dead yet. Actually I’m feeling much better.  So here I am again.  Did you miss me?

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JULIE’S FRIDAY FUNNIE

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GIVING UP OR GIVING IN?

inspirational-giving-quotes-6Days grow into weeks and weeks into months. Some of those days are filled with optimism while others bring nothing but one bad thing after another.  The amount of time and energy we spend on those bad days is really a waste.  When we raise our hands in despair and simply submit, how does that bring about any kind of solution?

We are a people used to coming to grips with things.  We’re adaptable to change, even though we often resist it.  We like the comfort of knowing there will be no question about what we’ll be doing today, tomorrow or even in the future.  When disaster strikes, Americans are known to be fighters and survivors.  We use whatever our circumstances bring us and try to make the best of it.

One way to accomplish something good out of this whole pandemic thing, is for us to come up with creative ways to get through it.  I’m seeing that happen daily as people post funny videos on Facebook and hilarious clips from folks with way too much time on their hands.  So isn’t this what happens when we’re not on a regular schedule?  Aren’t we being given the chance to come up with ideas, solutions, inventions, innovative ways of doing things and creativity.

I believe this is a time of renewal for all of us.  We’re at a point in this lockdown period, where it isn’t funny that people are hoarding things and causing people to go without. We’re sick of not being able to go to our favorite restaurants or go to a movie or play.  We feel cheated.  We want to get back to work so we can put food on the table.  We begin to feel depressed about what will happen next.  Our economy is shaky and unemployment is at a record high.  We’ve tuned out the news media, because it simply adds to the negativity.

This is a critical time for all of us.  We could give up and give in to it or we could look at the possibilities.  We know that family time has become possible.  There’s a return to doing jigsaw puzzles and board games.  Art projects have brought about new ideas and ways of making art on your own driveway.  Cooking meals rather than going to fast food joints for them has become somewhat normal again.  People are eating together, working at home, sharing family time and doing things they weren’t able to do before because their outside activities have been limited.  The focus has returned to home and family.

When we think about giving up or giving in, it’s usually about an act of submission.  The definition of the word is rich in meaning.  It refers to yielding · capitulation · agreement · acceptance · consent · accession · compliance.  As a noun it can mean proposal · offering · presentation · bidding · projecting · advocacy.  It can also be seen as an act of humility · unassertiveness · nonresistance · passivity · obedience · dutifulness · meekness.

Which of those meanings comes to mind first? We can choose to accept our current circumstances and figure out ways to help others.  We can share our knowledge in certain areas via the internet.  We can teach someone how to knit or crochet – how to cook on a small budget – how to set a table – what are the rules of etiquette and why were they important – how to paint or draw – how to dance – how to love one another.

Or we can cave to all the negativity and withdraw into a state of depression and hopelessness.  I choose the first option.  By sharing with others, with the tools at hand, we can open doors beyond our comprehension.

1 Peter 4:10  “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace:”

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THE MAGIC OF THE THEATRICAL

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It seems a lifetime ago when the movie theatres were still open – when you could take in a movie for $5 on a Tuesday – when you could escape to another place, time or fill a couple hours with adventure and action or love and romance.  It also seems like forever when kids were auditioning for upcoming shows with their hearts longing for the lead role in their high school production.  When art galleries were open to public view.  When the fear of entering one of those places didn’t exist.  A time when concerts were an every day occurrence and music was performing live right before our eyes.  It seems like forever, but it’s only been . . . what is it now?

Since I was a little girl, the theatrical lived in my heart.  I dreamt of being onstage dancing aside Shirley Temple.  I wished I had the voice of Jane Powell or Kathryn Grayson. I could almost feel myself up on that screen acting with Marlon Brando or Gregory Peck.

Every Saturday, my dad would give me fifty cents and walk me to the local movie theatre.  I can still smell the aroma of popcorn – the sounds of other kids as they fought over seats – each of us wanting to sit right in the middle to get the best view.  There we would sit for the entire day – watching and re-watching the double feature, cartoons and new reels.  There was something very magical about those days.  I think it was during that time that I longed to be part of it all.

I eventually went on to be the neighborhood instigator of theatrical productions.  I would write the script, cast the characters, make the costumes and sets and direct the whole thing.  Of course I also had the starring role.  My friends reluctantly joined in, because in those days we used our imaginations to create fun things to do.  Eventually they learned to like doing plays as much as playing cowboys and Indians.

In the eighth grade, we were assigned the task of writing a play.  I’m sure my teacher was talking about a one act play, but my creative juices were active and I took it on myself to write the most outstanding, glamorous, cast of a thousand or more play, which would rival anything written by Tennessee Williams with music by Irving Berlin. I’m sure my teacher flipped his wig when he saw my manuscript of fifty or more pages.  I got a good grade. I was sure he never read it.  He mentioned to me that it was way too epic for anything our class could possibly produce.  I was crushed, but I still continued my love affair with theatre.

Here I am, approaching 78 years on this planet and that love is still thriving.  Now that I’m required to stay at home, I have become a real couch potato.  I’ve become a huge fan of TCM, the Turner Classic Movie Channel.  I continue to watch the classics on TV along with some that I’ve never seen.  I’ve seen some that make me wonder how they ever got on the screen and others that complete astound me.

In a way, I’m still enjoying the arts.  My husband is an artist so I get to see new pieces each day.  I don’t even have to leave the house.  There’s something about sharing the arts with the masses that still lives in me.  I’m looking forward to the day when we can do that again.  Until then, I’ll make a package of microwave popcorn, grab a snuggly blanket and hit the couch.

 

 

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SUNDAY PRAYER

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Dear, Risen Savior, Brother and Friend, Jesus,

I come to you this Sunday after Easter with a heavy heart.  I like many others in this world have grown impatient.  I find myself becoming angry that I can’t be with my family at church.  I long for the taste of your Holy Supper – your body and blood.  I wish I could be in your house to confess my sins and know that you have forgiven them.

Yesterday was a bad day for me.  I’ve been reluctant to write about my real feelings, because I don’t wish to bring others down with me, but I’m tired of this isolation, social distancing and cocooning further into a life without a hug from my granddaughter, my children, my friends.  I don’t want to don a mask when I go shopping.  I’m afraid to go outside, because this is the worse time of year for my allergies and asthma.  I fear that boredom is setting in and making me anxious and fearful. I’m angry that things are so different now.

I should know better.  I should be quiet and wait for your answers.  I should trust that you have this in your hands and I need not be afraid.  Still I am.  I wonder how much longer this will go on.  Will we really be safe once it’s passed?  Will our economy rebound and get back to where it once was?  Will our money run out?  Will we survive?
Will we remain untouched by this illness?  How about those risking their lives for us by serving in the medical field, those who protect us, those who encourage and those who make church possible through electronic means.

As I ponder things, I pray that you bring calm to my heart and mind.  Help me know that all things in life are part of a much greater plan.  Remind me the cost it took for my redemption and that the ransom was paid by you.  Make me realize the gift of another day on this planet.  Thank you for your perpetual care and love for me and my loved ones.    May we all rejoice in the gift of Easter and your resurrection.  Let us know that heaven is waiting for us on the other side of death.  You gave us victory over the grave and took away our sins.  Alleluia and Amen!

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GROWING OLD LIKE FINE WINE AND AGED CHEESE

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The idea of growing old never occurred to me until I became part of the silver haired generation. It still doesn’t hold much interest. In fact I’m trying to avoid it completely. Now that I’ve arrived, I can tell you that it’s over rated.  Age isn’t particularly where anyone in our society wants to be. Youth is everything, right?

We’re fed with the notion that we can achieve higher cheekbones, supple skin, bodies that never sag. We’re also told that once you get old your life is over. NOT! For one thing, you have earned the right to express your opinion and not really care if anyone listens to you or not. You can do anything you want as long as you can pull your aching body out of bed. Your mind is filled with so much information, but you often shut down or repeat the same things over and over.

Unfortunately, our society is so focused on youth that they’ve forgotten or dismissed old age. It’s one of those things we don’t talk about much until we become old ourselves.
I am in my seventies and I don’t really consider myself old.

I still get out of bed at 6 AM. I put my make up on each morning, fix my hair and get dressed. I can still tie my shoes, but it’s harder to reach them. I have acquired a lot of knowledge over the years, but I often forget it. I don’t look as good as I used to, but I can still see a sparkle in my eyes. I love to listen to the rain falling on the roof, but can’t always hear it. My body sags, my face is wrinkled, my senses have become dull, but I don’t consider myself one of those old fogies I remember from my youth. I know that God has a plan for me and some day, all you young whippersnappers are going to be walking in my shoes.

1 Timothy 5:1-2 “Do not rebuke an older man, but encourage him as you would a father, younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, younger women as sisters, in all purity”

Every living human being has value in this world – from the very young to the very old. Let’s never forget our place in the scheme of things. Getting older is just bringing us that much closer to heaven.

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RANDOM SATURDAY SILLINESS

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WHAT’S A VULNERABLE ADULT?

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“Memory in youth is active and easily impressible; in old age it is comparatively                 callous to new impressions, but still retains vividly those of earlier years.”                           Charlotte Bronte

I’ve written about aging several times. I do so because I’ve reached old age. I try to resist the fact that my body is limited when it comes to certain tasks. On the other hand there are times when I fall asleep in mid-sentence, which makes me realize there’s not much I can do about this process other than accept it and move on .

Statistics point to the fact that we’re living longer lives these days. By the year 2050 the aging population of the world will have doubled, which means more than a billion people will still be hanging on to life. Millennials will be footing the bill for Social Security. Many of them will be supporting their parents in their old age. The truth is, most people passing the age of sixty are still very vital people, with tons of knowledge and wisdom. We may no longer have the stamina we did at 21. Our thinking process is a little slower and so is our ability to move.

Add to that the COVID19 experience and anyone over 50 is at risk of death sooner than expected.  Prior to this pandemic, reaching 50 was nothing.  Sure there will be a mid-life crisis, but that passes and life goes on.  It seems when we’re placed in a certain class, we’re considered vulnerable. I believe we’re vulnerable at any age.  It really depends on how we look at things.

There are lots of ways the elderly can alter their bodies and faces – if they have a fortune to waste. Plastic surgery and cold body sculpting are at an all time high – and it’s not just the women who are making that investment. We’re being rebuilt piece by piece with replacement parts. Health care has extended the average life span remarkably. Health clubs offer special deals to keep senior citizens active. There are many community programs to keep the mind and body active.

I’m one of those living entirely on social security. Occasionally I will do some freelancing, or sell some of my writing, but basically our fixed income is simply that which we put into what was supposed to be a trust fund for people my age. Even that is being depleted by people who are going beyond what the average life expectancy was way back when Social Security was instituted.

So in the next few posts, I’m going to be addressing various options for people as they go through this inevitable aging process. These posts are meant to keep us thinking about our final years and how we will use them. We can fall into a trap of complacency. We can give up, because our minds and bodies just don’t respond the way they used to. We can hide in a bubble of our own making – hoping that eternity comes soon. We can dwell on our problems or we can make a positive impact on the world around us with our experience and wisdom.

My journey growing old has given me some new insight on what I used to think about the process. Just like any stage of life, it’s another step closer to heaven. If I had known what aging involved when I was young, I never would’ve been so eager to grow up. Growing old today has so much to offer. We just need to look at the positive side of it and trust that God has a reason for us to still be on this planet. There is work yet to be done and He will stay with us if we trust in Him.

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TGIF

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The confusion of what day it happens to be can be a source of wonder for those in quarantIne.  I know it’s Friday, because we have no obligations on Friday.  I know it’s Friday because yesterday was Thursday and tomorrow is Saturday.  For those of us over seventy, time kind of runs all together and, unless we have a doctor’s appointment or need to pick up a prescription, we rarely need to know what day it is.  We’re old.  We are no longer required to punch a time clock.  We are free to do whatever we want, because we’ve earned it.

At least that’s what we’re led to believe.  Still a structured week is something I think we all need.  It’s good to know that we’ll wake up tomorrow to face another day.  We’re determined not to let the COVID19 latch onto us.  We stay isolated.  We obey the rules.  We go through the motions of living by preparing meals, until the food runs out and we have to venture into that world filled with germs.  Frankly I feel like the stores are cleaner than they’ve ever been.  We’re probably exposed to more dirt and germs within the sanctuary of our own homes. We try, sometimes in vain, to avoid any kind of news, because of the negative nature of it.

When we were both in the working realm, it was easy to remember when it was Friday.  It was the signal which called us to the end of another work week and the onset of a time of rest and recreation+.  With retirement came a lack of scheduled events, yet we couldn’t leave it at that.  Both my husband and I are dedicated to keeping busy.  Whether that means spending an entire day in front of an easel or focusing on the use of the right words as you type them into what might be a published work.  We press on.

We do it, because if we were to confine ourselves to the couch or recliner, we’d simply lose track of what day it was altogether.  For us seniors, one day is pretty much like another, but we can make the best of each one of them.  Both of us are now teaching classes online instead of in a performance space or art studio.  We also have scheduled meetings with friends on social media.  It’s good to be able to check on each other and visit for a while and attach a face to the written word.  We’ll attend church and do our daily devotions online as well.  We’re adapting to something we’ve resisted for a long time.

Today is Friday.  Let’s thank God for getting us through another week – for His protection against infection – for His ever watchful eye over us – for keeping us focused on the things that matter and for giving us another day to live on earth with a purpose.

 

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JULIE’S FRIDAY FUNNY REVISED

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STAGES OF GRIEF

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This time of grieving is like none we’ve ever known – unless you were born during the time of the Spanish Flu Epidemic of 1918.  During that time a world pandemic took the lives of 675,000 Americans and an estimated 50 million victims worldwide.  The world war was also raging at this time in history.  After the signing of the armistice of November 11, 1918, people were jubilant.  There was celebrating in the streets and a feeling of freedom from the arms of war as well as a slowing of the Spanish Flu, which had run through two waves at the same time.  This celebrating led to the third wave.

There are five stages to the grieving process, according to those who have chronicled the same.  They are listed as follows:

  • Denial & Isolation – When we first experience loss of any kind, we go through a period of denial.  We isolate ourselves from others and pull deeper within.  We don’t want to listen to the words of comfort, because we don’t believe them.  We grow further away from those who cherish us. Many in our country are going through this stage right now.  We’re stunned by the magnitude of the situation.  We didn’t believe it.  We’re supposed to be invincible, yet the first thing people did was stockpile things. Emotions were numbed by feeling we should be prepared for the unknown.
  • Anger – The second stage comes after we realize we can no longer deny the truth. We lash out at our governing officials.  We decry those who carried this illness into our country. We blame and our anger only makes us angrier.  The first stage has now succumbed to our feelings of not being in control.  We aren’t sure how to handle this thing which has eaten away at our bank accounts, 401Ks, our tempers and taken away our jobs, our patience, our freedom.  We’re now limited as to what we do, where we go, who we see and no longer are allowed into our churches, theatres, sports events, etc.
  • Bargaining & Guilt – At this time of our grieving we begin to feel desperate.  Our isolation has played on us heavily.  We need physical contact, hugs and togetherness.  We take unnecessary chances.  We don’t wear our masks or gloves. We try to make a deal with God in hopes of escaping this torture.  Feelings of extreme stress set in.  We feel totally helpless and guilty.  We feel guilty for not following the rules –  we feel guilty for going out to buy our supplies.  Our minds play tricks on us.  We forget who is really in control.
  • Depression – When we lose someone to death, there’s an immediate sadness.  We worry how we’ll survive, how we’ll pay for funeral expenses, how we’ll live without the deceased.  In our current situation we all could use a big hug, but even that doesn’t make the pain go away.  We must keep ourselves occupied, busy and in some sort of state of normalcy.  Suicidal thoughts may occur.  Now is the time to reach out to others. Though we may think we can handle the daily stresses of living, we need each other.  When you’re quarantined, that isn’t always possible.  If you have your family with you, use the time to fill some of the gaps that may have been unattended to in the past.
  • Acceptance -When we reach this stage, we’ve decided to stop feeling sorry for ourselves.  We determine to believe our circumstances are real and begin to live with them.  Not everyone will go through these steps of the grieving process, but one thing we must learn from any kind of loss is that we’re not alone in our struggle. Even Job from the Bible listened to his friends.  Fortunately for Job, He didn’t heed their advice.  He trusted God to get him through.  He was confident that all of his grief would be over soon – in a little while.

Life will go on.  We will have times of anxiety, fear, sadness and loneliness.  We will get through this and we will learn from it.

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MOORED

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ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

Our lives on earth are temporal – a whisper hushed and still,
We’re placed here by the Father’s hand and through His mighty will,
He guides us through the depths of pain, He takes our hand and leads,
He washes all our sin away and cares for all our needs,
When faced with darkness, fear and loss, He lifts us in His arms,
Protecting us from Satan’s wiles, his misery and charms,
When life becomes to hard to bear, He takes our cares away,
He gives us hope, He shelters us, to see another day,
So turn to Him upon this day, when all seems lost and gone,
Rejoice in His unending love, replenished every dawn
And when that final day arrives and death knocks at the door,
Our tears will never overpass, the glory that’s in store.

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ONCE UPON A TIME – EMPTY STREETS

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What might happen . . . .

Streets normally filled with hustle and bustle were suffocated in a cloud of fog. The air was infused with an eerie silence. There were no vehicles to speak of except for a few semi-trucks taking their wares to market. An emergency vehicle or two slowly passed and the officers waved to each other. Their friendly gesture gave way to vigilance as a group of teens walked together with arms locked. They gave their warnings of social distancing and drove on. The warnings went unheeded.

It had been several weeks of the cloistered lifestyle. Those who once had weekly appointments scheduled for manicures, pedicures, massages, hair styling were now stuck in the confines of their homes, with broken nails and hair that needed coiffing. It was a sad state of affairs. The luxuries people used to enjoy were no longer available to them. They began to do those things for themselves.

In time they would learn to go back to the simpler life – a pioneer spirit was being reborn in them. They’d eventually forget about grooming all together. With the warmer weather about to descend upon them, spirits began to soar. At least they were allowed to be outdoors and enjoy the springtime weather. They sat around bon fires and made S’mores It felt like an extended camping trip, but the feeling of freedom would soon be thwarted by longer periods of isolation and eventual confinement behind closed doors.

The animal habits began to change as well. Stray cats were becoming even more prevalent. Their numbers increased along with their size. Typical tomcats looked more like Cougars and mountain lions. Domestic pets were quick to do their duty so they wouldn’t be chased by the giant cats. Food was easier for them to come by, because people were more generous and treats more abundant.

Bears returned to the city limits. They seemed more confident about reclaiming what once was their home turf. Wild turkeys, swans, cranes, egrets, geese and ducks congregated on residential streets. They wandered about two by two. There were so many of them they swam beak to beak through the rippling water. Birds filled the trees in pairs of every. The cacophony produced by their constant chirping resonated into every home. Deer and elk walked the city streets. They grazed in and out of abandoned restaurants looking for anything to nibble on. Soon their meals would come from the earth once more.

The grasses grew. With no one to cut them or tend to the yard, it soon became a wealth of nourishment for the wild creatures. Trees grew taller. Prairie flowers covered the fields. The landscape was alive with color and the scent of fragrant blooms. Mosquitoes and honey bees thrived even without human blood. They swarmed and dove around the untended gardens and shrubs – a place of plenty for them again. This new bounty caused them to mature into much larger insects.

People began to retreat even further into their world of cyberspace. This was their only link to the outside world. They heard that animals were growing larger in every land. It was almost as if the dinosaurs were returning to the earth. Every creature was free to roam wherever they chose. They had no boundaries while the humans remained confined. It was the 8th week.

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SURVIVOR

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I am not a fan of the reality series, “Survivor.”  To me a real survivor isn’t self-serving, pompous, physically fit or one who is only in it to win.  However this show has grown in popularity and “survived” for the last twenty years.

What’s the draw which lures audiences for almost a quarter of a century?  I suppose having perfect bodies might have something to do with it. Maybe it’s the idea of winning at all costs.  Perhaps we all wish we could do amazing deeds like stay in isolation – away from civilization, prosperity and success for a time – living off the land and making do with what we have.  Oh wait a minute.  We’re doing exactly that right now.

We could really call ourselves survivors during this particular time in history.  What we’re experiencing right now is real reality.  Reality is the every day.  It’s what we become accustomed to.  It’s habitual, sometimes boring, but always interesting.

During times of trying to survive we can become innovative, inventive, creative.  We think about getting through it unscathed.  We begin to look inward for answers and when we discover that doesn’t work, we begin to look elsewhere.

Some may retreat into the depths of their souls – an existence of loneliness and fear.  Others may choose to find solace in a bottle or drugs.  Survivors choose to stay positive, while making the best of what they have available.  Some might find joy in the closeness of family, but eventually too much togetherness becomes an even greater burden.  Some long for the routine that once was normal.  When change occurs, we often run and hide.

There is a way to get through just about any situation in life.  God has created us in His image.  We are creative individuals and have the inner strength to survive if we use His handbook.  The Bible is filled with stories of people just like you and me who have survived the darkest parts of living – murderers, adulterers, thieves, the corrupt, deceivers and those who have become numb to God’s teachings.

Most of the survivors on the television series, meet their goals on their own.  Many fail.  Those who make it are rewarded for their efforts.  In life, we struggle to meet our goals on a daily basis.  When something gets in the way, we can either push through it or retreat into dark places of our own making.  If we trust in the One who made us and knows everything about us, we can count on surviving.  He never leaves us.  He’s our constant companion.  He brings us through even the most difficult of times.

“Fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Isaiah 41:10

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FINDING JOY IN THE ORDINARY

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If you’ve ever watched children at play, you soon discover that some of their most enjoyable toys are the ordinary – the average – the lids off pots and pans – the cardboard box that once housed your new washing machine. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood we lose the ability to find pleasure in ordinary things. We get caught up in the world view of what our enjoyment should consist of.

We live in a time of plenty. Many families have more than one vehicle, nice clothes to wear, electronics of all kinds and more than decent housing, but we are also a nation of people who are never satisfied with what we have. We want more. MORE!

There’s a mental disorder referred to as Narcissistic Personality Disorder – a term used to describe someone who is more concerned with himself than others to the point of being obsessive over it. In my day we called that being selfish. In Jesus day, He called it wrong. He told His followers to put others first. What happened to that wonderful Golden Rule?

Sometimes I think we become so consumed with our own needs that we forget to look at what we already have. In other words, we forget to enjoy the ordinary. I remember some of my fondest moments of raising my children as occurring in the most unusual ways. The memories that stick out had nothing to do with what we were wearing or what we were amusing ourselves with, but with the everyday stuff that made us smile – the goofy things that happened which turned into memorable events.

At the time they may have not been so terrific, but if we can look back and find some measure of joy in them, they were worth even the temporary difficulty of the moment.
When your child spray paints the dog blue – you naturally go into panic mode – but 30 years from now it will become a recollection you can laugh at. When your son greets you at the front door with a twenty foot snake, you learn to keep calm, but faint when he leaves.  When your family doesn’t like your homemade cream puffs and it erupts into an all out food fight, you can’t help but laugh. We have become too serious in our pursuit of happiness. It’s already at our fingertips if we just open our eyes. Our lives can be full of an abundance of joy in adversity.

II Corinthians 8:2 “for in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part.”

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DREAMING OF WARMER DAYS

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ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

The edge of a bluff lined river – a glassy reflection glistens and bounces onto a hill.

The light touches the edges of trees and buildings in the distance,

Creating patterns dancing from one place to another .

The deep crevices fill with darkness.

The sky is magnificently dotted with wispy clouds,

Interwoven with mauve, crimson and blue.

A path of towering pines shades the heat of the sun.

Breathing in the sweet, fresh air,

Hearing the sounds of rushing water,

Birds singing their little hearts out,

Filling your heart with contentment.

This little morsel of peace is just a speck in the scheme of things.

How we long for the glory of summer days. They are so few and fleeting.

Soon the leaves will turn to red and gold and then fall.

Like our lives. We wither and die.

The moments of joy we experience on this planet are nothing compared to what awaits.

The winter brings our dying breath.

Once again spring returns and we’re blessed with new life.

When we know God,

The glory never ends.

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