It was 1957. I thought I knew everything there was to know about everything. As a freshman in high school, we tend to think that way. My dreams of running away with the circus would be put on hold. I was about to embark on my high school years and so was he. We met, we became friends and since that first day, we’ve become friends forever. We attended a Christian High School in Milwaukee, which was on its structural last leg, but we would spend three years in that dilapidated building, which housed guard dogs during the evening hours. It was the same high school Paul’s father attended, so it had been through many years of teenage pranks during its history. There was an extension to the old, brick building called the “annex.” It was much like an old army barracks, unheated and furnished with old school desks. To think, my parents paid tuition so I could attend this place. It took me a long time to realize it, but some of the greatest friendships of my life were formed in that rundown edifice. By the time of our graduation in 1960, a new school was built, and we were part of the first graduating class.
Getting back to 1957. There were two groups of kids in our class – the preppies and the greasers. The preppies were those who planned to go on to college, become teachers or pastors and followed the dress code to a tee. The greasers were those “Fonzie” types, with greased back hair, leather jackets and attitude. The girls were just like you see in those old period movies about the 50s. Actors like Marlon Brando, James Dean and Tuesday Weld were greaser role models, while Pat Boone and Sandra Dee were definitely preppies.
It was the first day of English class with a new teacher, who just got his education degree. I was particularly excited, because our first assignment would be to read from some scripts from the “I Love Lucy Show.” Everyone had a chance to read, but I was paired with a skinny, yet adorable, brown-eyed fellow with a short haircut. His name was Paul. He would read the part of Ricky Ricardo and while I read Lucy’s part. I was in my element of course. We connected instantly – not only as the characters we were reading, but as fast friends who would one day fall in love.
We spent three full years in that building. Our gym was located across town at the Lutheran Center. The only way to get there was to take a city bus, or drive, if you had a car. One of our classmates drove a VW Beetle. No, we didn’t try to all squeeze into his vehicle, but being the only one with a car, he always was the first to arrive. When the bus arrived with the rest of us, he was already dressed for gym. Some of the guys, including Paul, thought they would teach this fellow a lesson. They somehow moved his car to the top of the steps leading to the building. That was the day when they arrived back at school, before the Beetle driver.
There were always adventures going on during this time. Chemistry experiments that went bad and caused the school to be evacuated – time in the student lounge where kids got to know each other – after school events, football games, building homecoming floats – all contributed to our years spent in that part of our education.
Finally, our senior year arrived. Paul was dating one of my best friends. We often went on “group dates.” By this time, he had the use of his father’s car to take all of us home. The car was also used in the transporting of the dearly departed from time to time. It was necessary for Paul to check in with his dad while using the car, in case a call came in at the funeral home. After one of these school events, Paul dropped my friend off first and then me. It was then that our friendship turned into more than that. He asked me to go steady a few weeks later. I accepted.
In those days, it was customary to exchange class rings. Girls would usually attach their steady’s ring to a chain and wear it around their neck. I was on the chubby side, so his ring fit perfectly on my ring finger. Girls would often wear the letter sweater of their steady. The sweater of course would be much too big and baggy. When I received Paul’s, I couldn’t button it. It must’ve been true love, because both of us were focused on the inner rather than the outer appearance. Those early days were about to open new doors and experiences as we graduated. He would go on to the Art Institue in Chicago to study art. I went to the Milwaukee Institue of Technology to work on a career in journalism and work for the school TV station.
The next episode will include the time between 1960 to 1964.
For some reason, WordPress deleted part of my story. This has happened to me before. I have updated the post and you should be able to read it in its entirety now.
Who knew? These two little tykes would someday grow up and become one in marriage. He was from the northside of Milwaukee, and I was from the southside. Even in these early photos, Paul and Kathy were made for each other. It’s true, you know, that God creates the perfect match. He planned it before we were even joined at His altar. He designated us to be together for a lifetime – to grow old together and to share each other’s problems, hopes, dreams and failures. They say that growing old together is a wonderful thing, because you truly become one person. I thought that saying was so romantic when I first heard it, but I didn’t count on bodies falling apart, stretch marks and wrinkles, hearing problems, communication issues, health issues. Through all of it we’ve shared a remarkable life together.
As we reach the end of that journey, I thought I’d share some of the events that made the Boecher family who they are today. Most people would consider it an average life. We were never famous or notorious. We lived with our share of problems, but the one thing that kept us together was having God as our center. Both of us were brought up in Christian families. Both were baptized. He went to Christian schools from kindergarten to 12th grade, while I attended public schools through 6th grade. In 7th grade, I must’ve needed special attention, so was enrolled in a parochial school and continued through high school. These little vignettes are a tribute to us and a record for our family to cherish. If I ever write a book about it, you’ll hear many more details about the things that kept us hopping during this life.
When we both were about the same age as the above photos, we lived in close proximity of each other, but weren’t acquainted. Our mothers may have pushed our baby carriages around the same block at one point, but we never actually met until we were Freshmen in high school. He lived above a funeral home – the family business. I lived in rental properties until I was 25 when the two of us bought our first house together. His family was wealthy. Mine made a fair amount, but we weren’t considered rich by a long shot. His home in a funeral home led to many interesting stories of wearing tailored suits and white shirt and tie. This fact probably influenced his distaste for “dressing up,” and turned him to flannel and denim in his later years – always sprinkled with some remnants of a painting he worked on. I was an apartment dweller and never failed to be well dressed, even though it would stretch the budget tremendously. The boy with a silver spoon in his mouth and a girl with a plastic one, would someday become man and wife.
His childhood was spent surrounded by death and having compassion for those who were left behind. He became one with a tender, loving heart. He had a giant playroom in the basement of the mortuary, which was turned into an archery range, a science lab and room for many dance parties after football games. He stored live garter snakes as specimens in the window well near his science lab. One day, as a funeral was in progress upstairs, the snakes escaped from their sanctuary and slithered into the smoking room, where several ladies had gathered. That brought about an end to the science lab.
I on the other hand was pinning bed sheets to a clothesline to use as a backdrop for the many plays I’d written and forced our neighbor kids to be part of. We’d make little bags of popcorn and sell lemonade at our homemade refreshment stand. Of course, I had the lead in all of the productions, I directed them and costumed them. This love of performance would eventually follow me to a point later on when I would fulfill that dream. I even had an opportunity to act as a vocal coach for one of the clowns in the Cirque du Soleil. I often thought about running away and joining the circus.
Our early years were spent in separate churches – both in the German gothic style – adorned with amazing stained glass and beautiful statuary and paintings. He was the bell ringer at his church from little on and would often be lifted off the ground while doing so. We both attended Lutheran churches. His proclaimed the Gospel while mine dwelled on the law of Moses. A pastor would rise to the height of the pulpit, where he would spew fire and brimstone and scare the hell out of me. I have always felt a strong sense of guilt for my sins. It would certainly have an effect on my spiritual life for a very long time. He, on the other hand, was receiving the joy of Jesus and His love for us.
It would be a number of years before we’d actually meet each other, but I’ll save that for the next episode of “The Story of Us.”
In looking at this photo, my husband and I could be mistaken for the “Yellowstone” Duttons of 1893 or 1923. Paul always said he was born in the wrong time period. He was not made for the new technology age, nor the modern day morality and lack of values. I guess he thinks it would’ve been better to have lived in a time when men were men and women were women. A time when law and order was a shot in the dark. When a man wore a gun and blue jeans. When a woman dressed in clothes that truly identified her as a woman. Today, as we watch movies about the old west, the gunfights, the terror in the streets, I think I prefer living in the time period which God intended for us. Such a time as this.
In the next couple weeks, I’ll be sharing some stories about the two of us – our journey – our walk with God – our hopes and dreams. Eventually a new book may evolve from them. I feel that our “Love Story,” will apply to many couples out there today. They will give you glimpse into the past – Tell you about some of our struggles, successes and dreams – give an example of our faith and the way it has held us together for almost 59 years.
I believe that every one of us has a story that can help someone else to model theirs. God’s story has been the center of our lives throughout our marriage. At times we wondered if He could hear us – if He really cared about us – if we would survive – if we were making the right choices and adjusting to the world today.
“So the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and while he slept took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the Lord God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man. Then the man said, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.” Genesis 2:21-23
Change can be good; it can drive us crazy; it can be difficult, but it will happen to everyone. When something disrupts our comfort zone it can really shake us up. The world is in a constant state of flux. Sometimes it’s difficult to understand how changes in morals and ideas occur, but it just shows us how sneaky the devil is. He gets into our moral fiber and slowly eats away at it until it becomes totally unrecognizable. We all have access to the one thing that never changes – the actual words of God which have been preserved for us in the Bible. If you want consistency, that’s where to go.
Thank you, Lord, for giving us your Holy Word; for inspiring men with those words and for keeping it alive today. Even though our world is constantly changing, your love and your laws never do. Amen!
Proverbs 16:9 ESV “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.”
Whether you’re a child, teen, adult or aging person, you will have to make difficult choices in this life. There will be many along the way. When you’re growing up, you decide to take a chance which might prove dangerous. When you reach your teens, you imagine that you are invincible and nothing can harm you, so you might make foolish decisions that lead you down another difficult road. When you reach your adult years, you are supposedly at your prime. You make bigger choices that will affect you and those around you. You choose a mate. You find your career. You discover new avenues to take. You buy a house, you have a family, you plan for your retirement. When you reach your senior years, you find that many of the choices you made up until now, haven’t really gotten you where you thought you’d be. You are now faced with life and death choices. When your years come to an end and you take your final breath, will you have made the important choice to follow Jesus?
Each of the choices we make in our journey, will be much easier if we put our faith in Him. When you pray before making a decision and have peace with it, chances are you are making the right choice. Placing your trust in the Creator of the universe is really a no brainer. He has already planned your life for you. He knew you before you were formed in your mother’s body. He determined the length of your days. He is with you through every situation. He will never leave you. He loves you with an unconditional love that you can’t begin to understand. He always keeps His promises. He would die for you. If you haven’t heard, He was willing to shed His own blood for you. He has a place waiting for you in heaven, where you will never feel pain – never be afraid – never be in a dangerous situation – never shed a tear. He’s waiting for you to find Him. He will be revealed to you in the pages of His inspired Word, the Bible. Open one today. Not only will you gain eternal life, but your choices here on earth will be much easier.
The promises of streets of gold and no more tears to shed, Hope for peace and quiet times – no more fear of falling dead, The feast that goes on day and night and never fails to please, A life of independence and of everlasting ease.
Times of quiet contemplation and ever-present peace, Days that wander into nights and joys that will just increase, The perfect habitation, a heavenly, tranquil space, A place where you can talk to God and look Him in the face.
Yet life still holds its treasures, it’s so hard to say goodbye, The people we’ve grown close to, will grieve us when we die, No more are we connected, beyond fading memories, That will remain for quite a while, but wither with the trees.
The things that we accomplish here, while we are still alive, Are still of use as God’s own tools, to help others survive, Our final rest will come at last when we turn back to dust, But God has not forgotten us, in that we too can trust.
So, use me, Lord and let your love be evident in me, And while I live and breathe each breath, inspire and set me free, To do your everlasting will, to serve you without fear, To treasure life with all its faults and know that you are near.
“Anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strength.”
Charles Spurgeon
It was a glorious day. The skies were crystal clear of any clouds. The air was autumn crisp. Children were off to school. Life was happening all around. Suddenly, the sky was pierced with a deadly attack that would live in minds and hearts all around the world. We sat in the comfort of our homes as the tragedy unfolded right before our eyes. How could this be? Airplanes were attacking the nation’s Big Apple. Within moments the clear blue sky filled with black, death-filled clouds. We were stunned, amazed, angry, fearful. We couldn’t begin to imagine that planes could be hi-jacked and used as weapons of mass destruction, but there it was. Right before eyes. Our son called from his car to find out what was going on. Scattered news reports were exploding on his radio. Still, it wasn’t clear what was happening.
Everyone has a story about this day – 09/11/2002. Most of us remember what we were doing and how it made us feel. How could this possibly happen in our own country? It seemed like we were watching a movie, but the special effects were reality. As rescue teams responded and many of them lost their lives, smoke and ash continued to spew out of the two buildings in the center of New York. People were jumping out of windows to their death in order to escape the heat of the flames. They chose to end their lives in their own way. Meanwhile our nation was under attack by a terrorist cell determined to bring death to America. Another plane, flown by yet another suicide hi-jacker, hit the Pentagon on the west side of the complex. Yet another plane crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. The passengers inside all died, but they did so by fighting back. That plane was supposed to hit the capitol building in Washington, DC, but was diverted by a group of passengers that would die as heroes. Days later, funerals would be held for the victims of the day. Tears flowed, people melted in each other’s arms, we were in a state of shock.
During times of trouble, we seem to rally as a nation. We forget about bias and bigotry for a while and focus on unity. That evening we attended church service as many other Americans across the country did. We sang patriotic songs and displayed American Flags. The flames of the day ignited something else in our country. Patriotism was revived. The next day war was declared on terrorism. Within a very short time, men and women died giving their lives for their country. Families waited for the flag draped caskets to be delivered..
Today, services will be held in remembrance of this horrid event. Names will be read as a bell tolls. Tears will be shed again as the memory of that day remains in the hearts of many. When I look at America today, I wonder if we learned anything from this disaster and the others that followed. Patriotism is a thing of the past in many cases. Wars continue to be fought. Lives end. We try to make sense of the “why.” We blame God, but He isn’t the One to be cursed. Evil will be with us as long as we live, but God will never change. He is good and His mercy endures forever. Even when we think that our country is going to hell in a handbasket, God continues to spread His wings over us. We need to call on Him again today, to rule over our land.
Twenty two years ago, was the height of the hurricane season. Hurricane Erin developed from a tropical wave on September 1st, threatening to land in Bermuda. The airports there were shut down and flights from there were delayed. This was the longest-lived hurricane of the 2001 season. I wonder how this might have affected the incident that occurred on the next day at the World Trade Center in New York City. Instead, the hurricane shifted and moved to the northeast, and turned into an extratropical storm. There was no resulting damage to property. September 11 would be a beautiful day, with clear blue skies and on time flights. The next day would be clouded with smoke from two burning skyscrapers.
On the 10th of September 2001, the armed forces in the United States were considered to be peacetime military. The next day, war was declared on terrorism. Broadway was showing “Les Miserables.” George W. Bush had a 55% approval rating after only 7 months in office. On the evening of the 10th, he was enjoying a leisurely dinner with his brother Jeb in Florida. It would mark the end of such days in just a few hours. 2,977 people went about their business in a carefree manner, without much thought about what would happen the next day. They would become part of a list of statistics that no one wanted to read. The congress was in a state of division – much like today. The next day, we were no longer a nation divided. We were all Americans. Flags were purchased and flown in honor of our nation. A few days later they would all have been sold out. Patriotic songs were sung in churches all over America.
It was probably a day like any other, for most of us. When we woke the next morning and turned on the news, we were stunned by what was happening in New York. We felt violated as a nation, vulnerable, unsafe, fearful. Twenty two years have passed since that fateful day. Today we are once again a nation divided. Crime is running rampant. Technology is pretty much in control of everything. Focus is on gender identity, Artificial Intelligence and climate change. Violence is the fare of the day and morality is in the sewer. We are not currently in a war. Law enforcement is undergoing great changes. We have just come off of a three-year period of isolation. We rarely communicate the way we should. Our words are often mis-interpreted. Our churches are suffering for membership. There is lack of patriotism in our country. Kids are afraid of going to school for fear of mass shootings. Did we learn anything from the past?
One thing I know for sure is that God never changes. He will be the same as He was at the beginning of time throughout eternity. We can count on Him. We should count on Him. He is the only One we can count on.
2 Chronicles 7:14 KJV “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.”
When you’re in your 80s, it’s not unusual to spend a lot of time in waiting rooms. The one pictured is quite nice. I took the photo while waiting for Paul to get his eyes examined yesterday. As we sat there for 15 minutes, (we always arrive early) Paul mentioned that we had to stop meeting this way. I’ve noticed a lot of changes as time progresses. Most of these areas are filled with fairly comfortable chairs and decorated in rather quiet colors of beige or grey. Walls usually include huge paintings to liven things up a bit. There used to be lots of magazines on the tables to thumb through while you wait, but you no longer see those. Today, most folks are glued to their phones instead. I imagine this is for the better, since you don’t know what kind of germs you might pick up from those magazines.
I’ve also begun to rate waiting rooms. Most of them are pretty generic. Some are filled with light and are coated with white sterile walls, while others are comforting and good for meditating. Most folks don’t stop to think about the decorating of these rooms. Our oldest daughter is an interior designer for such spaces and much of what I’m talking about is considered in the plans. When you’re a patient, you aren’t really interested in the decor, but when you’re waiting for someone to see the doctor, your eyes tend to wander. I’m a people person, so I enjoy watching others. Sometimes you see worry and anxiety covering their faces. Other times, they may be in a hurry and frustrated because of the wait. Some are so into their phones that they don’t hear when their name is called. Some have children with them, causing a brief escape from worry. These little ones become the entertainment for those who wait.
Some rooms have candy dishes with delicious things to nibble on as you sit there. The oncology waiting room is especially good for that. They have the most delightful treats. Some provide coffee with all the fixings or water dispensers if you’re thirsty or in need of caffeine. They all have hand sanitizer, which your never saw before COVID. I suppose I might make a career out of rating waiting rooms. There have been a lot of them lately.
Waiting isn’t easy. You can do so in a well decorated room or while waiting for the sun to rise. We’re hoping for a good diagnosis, an answer, a look at something beautiful or the future. Our perspective is going to change the way we wait. We can dwell on the outcome, or we can welcome it. It takes a patient person to be a patient. Even when our minds wander, or negative thoughts get in the way, your time can be used to pray, to watch, to listen – to plan – or all of those things.
Romans 8:18 “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”
1 John 3:2 “Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.”
isaiah 40:31 “But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”
So, maybe our time on earth is like being in a waiting room, or a holding pattern. We’re here to experience the trials and tribulations of living along with the beauty of God’s creation and love. Soon the waiting will ending and we will experience paradise.
This a photograph taken yesterday as we search for autumn color. It was a cloudy day, so not much to see, but there is a hint of richness appearing on a few trees. A favorite time for Paul & me as we continue our weekly short road trips. Living life, day by day.
As my husband and I were sitting at the dinner table, we started talking about these old verses and stories and how they impacted our childhood. I’m sure some of them are still being used today, since they were pretty much a bedtime event for children down through the ages. It’s funny what people talk about when they get old. I’m quite sure we didn’t suffer mentally from hearing them, but who knows? Maybe we did.
Some say Mother Goose was an actual person. She resided in Boston, Massachusetts and died in 1690. She was the second wife of Isaac Goose. Her name – Elizabeth Foster Goose. This claim was probably untrue, because many of the rhymes existed long before she did. Still there is a sight in Boston called the Old Granary Burying Ground, that holds a tombstone with her name on it. Many tourists come to visit her grave and some toss coins upon it for good luck. Whatever! My coins are too important to be throwing them away. People will come up with all kinds of truths to make a buck.
Anyway, the subject of our conversation had to do with the messages revealed in those early rhymes. Were they trying to scare their children to sleep? Think about it for a minute. For example: Jack and Jill is a rhyme about two kids who climb a hill, fall down once they reach the top. One cracks his skull, while the other came tumbling after him. Then there’s the one called “Ring Around the Rosie.” This began as a children’s game. It was representative of the Bubonic Plague and the rash that occurred with the disease. Rosies represent the flowers used to ward off the disease and ashes refer to the burning corpses. I suppose there might be some truth to that, but I prefer the other conjecture which refers to courtship and love – along with a rosebush. Falling down is just a reference to a playful action.
In any case, these rhymes were intended to be told at bedtime. How could a child fall asleep after hearing about such thing? Certainly, their dreams would pick up on these frightening things. Then of course are the stories. Most of them containing a hero/heroine who takes a trip into unknown territory, only to be confronted by wild animals and danger. I’m probably reading too much into all this, but I guess it makes more sense to send them off to dreamland with positive thoughts and knowing that they are loved and cared about – not only by their parents, but an everlasting heavenly Father.
“And he took a child and put him in the midst of them, and taking him in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” Mark 9:36-37
B I’ve been thinking a lot about surrendering these past few months. When I think of battle, the thought of surrender is usually a last resort. I’m learning that it should have been my mantra for a long time. Raising the white flag of surrender, means you have no more fight left in you. It means giving in and letting go of the fight. We’re taught as youngsters, that we should fight for what we believe in. We should hang in there when things get tough. We should never give up. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to surrender to God.
On the other hand, surrender can be a release when you give in to the Creator of the Universe. When we try to stay the course and fight our own battles, we’re inviting defeat. When we trust that God is always there for us – with all His power and might – ready and waiting to defeat all the demons that get in our way – we have freedom, peace and rest.
“If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” C. S. Lewis
Mr. Lewis had it right. There is nothing in this world that will satisfy, complete us or be sufficient. Wealth can make things easier, but it doesn’t fight our inner battles for us. Success may give some gratification, but our greatest victory was won for us on a cross many years ago. Good looks, wonderful personality and kindness are amazing attributes, but they can’t assure perfection. Only God can do all those things and more. He’s promises us, through His Holy Word, to never leave us. He’s available 24/7, every day of every year during our walk on earth and also after we depart this world. He is always there.
Even though the world may be crumbling around us – even when it seems we have no one left who understands our physical, emotional or spiritual needs – even when death is close at hand, we have His promise, “Never will I forsake you.”
Dear Almighty Father God, I have nothing to lay at your feet in gratitude. You deserve my complete surrender, for you alone can fill my life with hope, faith, fulfilled promises and a place in your kingdom. Stay with me through the rest of my life. Help me fight the battles ahead with your amazing power and love. Knowing that you are within me, I realize that the victory has already been won through your precious Son, Jesus. Thank you for this amazing grace. Amen!
One of my recurring dreams is not having my children’s lunches packed for school. My kids have since flown the coop and packing lunches is no longer a part of my daily routine, but for some reason that dream keeps popping up. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I’m always going to be a mother and want to make sure my kids are cared for.
I’ve gone through all that parenting stuff – all the anxiety that comes with raising children – all the hopes and dreams for them – all the prayers – being a mom is a lifetime thing. I still pray that they have success in life. I want them to be happy. I want to help with advice, without overstepping my bounds. I want them to know I care about them, but want them to be independent.
As parents get ready to send their children off to school – some may be ready to push them out the door while others wish they could cling to them for a while longer. We have our children for such a short time, we have to make sure we make the most of each precious moment.
Enjoy the process of pushing them out of the nest and letting them find themselves. Continue to let them know that you’re there to pick them up if they need you to. Encourage them along the way. You’re the best support system they have for the time being. When they’re old enough to leave your home, let them feel that the door is always open.
Pray for your children. They’re are gift from God and if you place them in His hands, they have a good chance of overcoming all the difficulties this world offers.
So whether you have tears in your eyes as you drop them off at school, or you’ve been through this enough to know that they’re ready to start a new chapter in their lives – don’t forget to pack their lunches!
I officially retired when I was 75. After a year, I discovered that something was wrong. I no longer had a routine. No more getting up at 6 AM. I could sleep until noon if I wanted to. No more scripts to write. No more, the loud sound of young voices. The reality of being without that part of my life, made me realize how important it was for me. After a year, I returned to my love of theatre and got involved in a local performing arts company. Work is not a curse, as many think. God didn’t punish mankind for his disobedience with work – even though many believe their jobs to be unrewarding and mundane. He gave us the ability to share ideas, to dig into a project, solve problems, be part of a team, to give us a purpose in our living. Today as you celebrate this holiday, thank God for work. Through it, you have a reason for getting up each day.
When we think of Labor Day, we tend to look at it as an American holiday. Actually, it was first instituted by Canada after many labor disputes over 12-hour workdays. Like our neighbors to the north, the U.S. quickly followed suit and Labor Day was designated as a day to honor all the workers who helped to make our country into what it is. It’s hard to imagine working for 12 hours each day – especially in jobs that require you to be awake and alert. For example, if you were a laborer in the steel industry and fell asleep at the job it could mean the difference between life and death. At the turn of the 19th century, the leaders of industry were interested in building this new nation with all of its natural resources. The physical resources of everyday men and women provided the necessary grit and stamina to bring those ideas to fruition.
Dear, Heavenly Father, thank you for the gift of labor. Without the ability to work, we are losing out on so much. Our hands were not meant to be idle. Our ideas should be put into action. Our purpose in serving you, should be witnessed through our labors. Help us to remember that work results in action. Action gives us purpose. All things in your creation are good and the fruits of our laboring are a testament to that. In Jesus name, I praise, thank and honor you. Amen!
Have you given thought to the future, beyond death?
Where do you think you will spend eternity?
Does it all end when we die?
Is all that we’ve learned about eternal life just a fantasy created to keep us in line?
When you have faith that Jesus died to pay the ransom for our freedom from sin and guilt, you can answer these questions boldly. God expects perfection for those who enter heaven. None of us is perfect. We need a rescuer. God provided the way out for those who return to Him. Through the sacrifice of His own Son, we’ve been made clean in God’s eyes. When we die, we will see the face of God, not by what we’ve done, but what He’s done.
It takes a childlike faith to believe this. We cannot be influenced by rational or scientific thought, even though it includes both those things. There were and are those who’ve rejected everything about God and His plan of salvation for everyone. Because God created each person with a free will, we have a choice in the matter. If we trust and believe in God, His Word and the power of His Spirit and the One who shed blood for us, it’s a done deal. If we don’t, the blackness of our souls will convict us to an eternity in hell, with the devil and all his miserable minions. Sounds like a no brainer to me.
When God comes again to judge the world, what will your close up reveal about you?
Will He determine your destiny by the works you have done for others?
Will He see how generous you were in your giving?
Will He declare you entrance into heaven, because your faith or because of His love for you?
Will He throw you into the eternal pit of Satan’s domain?
God wants all of us to repent of our sins and accept the gift He’s given us. He gives us eternal life, not by what we do, but by what has already been done for us, through Jesus. God created the world and all that is in it. He formed man out of the earth and woman out of man. He placed them in a perfect environment where there was no fear, no shame, no guilt, no hate, no evil, no tears and no death.
What kind of love is it when the One who made you, gives up His own flesh and blood to redeem you and gives you the assurance of eternal life?
I call it unconditional.
I call it the best kind of love – perfect, sacrificial, putting others first.
His love is incomprehensible because only He possesses it.
We buy the latest fashions, even though we really should stick to something that looks and fits better. We expect our children to be perfect, forgetting they are human and so are we. We plan elaborate vacations in hopes of having a great experience, only to wind up at the Bates Motel surrounded by cockroaches and Norman. The truth is, we won’t experience perfection on this side of eternity. Things get in the way – unexpected things – things that take away our joy.
So, how do we find delight in the everyday things? If you have small children, start by spending time with them. The dishes may not get done, the bills go unpaid, the house is in chaos, but you are experiencing something you will not have available to you in a few years. So those other things can wait. Your child can’t.
Instead of carting your teens here and there to participate in one event or another, spend time listening to them. They really have important things to say, and you might just learn a thing or two about their needs and wants. Some of my best time with my kids was spent talking with them in the car. If we fail to listen, we’re losing a grip on what’s on their minds and in their hearts.
If your nest is empty, take time to enjoy a sunset with your spouse. If your spouse is no longer in your life, enjoy the sunset by yourself. As you grow older, your eyes will fail, and you may not be able to see the glory of God’s artistry again. Take a drive through nature. This time of the years is perfect for enchanting landscapes, changing colors and smells of autumn.
My point is this. We should never get so wrapped up in the busyness of living that we forget to actually live. The little things may seem little now, but they will grow into wonderful memories someday and they may even turn into big things. When you think about it, our life span is not very long. We need to make the most out of every minute allotted to us. The daily ruts we put ourselves into become boring. Our schedules fill up to the max. We find little time to share with those we love. Our friendships fail, because we don’t have time to nurture them. How sad. Live today as if it were your last day. You will eventually find a totally different adventure waiting for you. One that has you thinking about others rather than your own selfish desires. You might be surprised at the what’s waiting for you.
As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension.
I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog.
I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ.
My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on Amazon.com.
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
atimetoshare.me 
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