A NOVEL IDEA

Well, it’s already November 4, 2023, and four days into “Nanwrimo.” I’ve procrastinated once again. I have a couple novel ideas. In fact, I wrote one about five years ago and it’s still somewhere on a flash drive, yet unpublished. One of the comments on a submission I made, suggested that I take some writing classes and maybe try again. I’m not good at taking rejection. I’ve written almost a hundred plays in my lifetime. I wrote a screenplay once. I write a daily blog. I write poetry that seems to be enjoyed. I don’t write letters much anymore, because no one can read my handwriting. I’ve written commercials. I’ve written several children’s stories. I seem to be able to write a lot. Writing has been much a part of my existence for several decades, but I can’t seem to get past this fear of rejection.

So, can I write a novel in a month? The requirements for this event are simple enough. Am I too late to begin? Can I use an existing, unsolicited, unpublished piece? The aim of this event is to get us to write at least 1700 words a day. By the end of November, you should have accumulated 50,000 words and the completed first draft. No editing is necessary. Sounds pretty easy. Maybe I’ll get started after Thanksgiving. Talk about procrastination.

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TIME MELTING AWAY . . .

I’m not a fan of Surrealistic art, but in 1931, Salvador Dali painted the above image, called. “The Persistence of Memory. The painting created quite a stir and tested the intelligence of everyone who viewed it. What was the deeper meaning of this painting? As the wife of an artist, I can tell you that the mind of an artist is always active. Even when they sleep, vivid dreams are being created for future art. There isn’t always a motivation for painting. Sometimes an artist will simply try to recreate the beauty of nature. “Why don’t you just take a photograph?” some might ask. However, the painting artist has a slightly different eye for the depth of his art. So much of that person is enveloped in the final result. It no longer becomes another image, like everyone else might visualize, but an actual piece of the artist is imbedded into the work. I can imagine what Dali was thinking while creating this masterpiece, but to actually get inside his head is impossible.

This weekend, as we once again change time to save the hour that we lost last spring, I can’t help but think of this particular image. The melting clocks are so much like memories that are slowly slipping away. They no longer maintain their original shape. Some have been added to over time. They become larger than life. As years pass, that memory no longer resembles the truth of the original event. So it is with time. As we grow older, the years seem to melt into one another. We often forget the truth of the past. We may even try to forget it altogether. Age can cause us to dwell on the past, as we forget about things that happened five minutes ago.

When we’re young we have all the time in the world. As we grow into adulthood, the years are filled to the brim with obligations and responsibilities. Time flies during those years. As we come to the end of life, time should slow down, but it seems to step on the gas at the last moment. Each day runs into the next. Our pace slows down, but the hours pass quickly as we approach the end of them. At times, we can’t imagine how we will ever make it through this life, but there is more time waiting for us beyond the grave. God saw to it that time would never end for those who believe in Him and His unconditional love. He gave His life for us. That’s truth that far exceeds time.

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FACELESS FRIENDS. . .

When you’re a blogger, there are so many people to interact with. I’ve never met any of them. I know only what I see of them in their postings. Their writings are often thought provoking. They become friends through those words. I’ve been blogging for more than twelve years. Many of those I follow come from various parts of the United States, Canada and other countries. There are a few that I’ve followed for a long time. Some of them leave the world of blogging and I never hear from them again, but when that happens, I miss them.

One of the first people I met was a cattle rancher from the south. He inspired me to write about my faith. I enjoyed reading his stories about working with a group of Jewish Christians. Another fellow from the south worked as a cable guy and went into nursing a few years later. A Jewish convert to Christianity, a wife, a mother, a lawyer and captivating writer was one that a met a few years into this history. Each of these remained friends for quite a while and then they were gone. It was like losing a good friend.

Recently, I became friends with a young woman who is fighting for her life. She is about the same age as my oldest daughter. This faithful young Christian has worked with children with special needs, has a family of her own and has endured a long struggle with Cancer. There is the woman whose son lost his life in an automobile accident. The fellow that writes amazing commentaries on the teachings of Christ. His creative side comes out in his characters including eggs, apples and other foodstuffs. He has a whole series of stories meant to amuse as well as teach. He recently lost his lovely wife, but his faith allows him to grieve with the assurance that he will see her again someday in heaven. There’s a woman who grew up in a family accompanied by addiction. She knows the pain of losing someone she loves to that very malady. She is humorous, steadfast in her faith and always has a great lesson to teach us about this crazy world we live in. There is another woman who has been trying for many years to write a memoir about growing up with a narcissistic, abusive mother. I’m sure that story will help many people going through a similar experience.

There are countless others that I follow each day. My point is, I don’t know these people personally, but I feel like I know some of their inmost thoughts, fears, hopes, dreams and goals. This venue is often a place for us to vent. We may share things that we would never otherwise share with another human being. We become vulnerable to attack for some of our words. We are placing our lives on the line in a way.

I wonder how God feels when each of His creatures come to Him with their inmost, deepest thoughts and prayers. Of course, He’s God, so I will never be able to comprehend His power. I do know that His love is also beyond my comprehension and that when we pray, He hears each word. He listens with attentive ears. He knows the solution before we even utter the words. It must be like a great cacophony of voices though. All asking for something. All pleading for answers. All praying for wisdom. Yet, He hears every individual prayer and has already planned for the outcome.

When we tell our stories, we’re laying it all out there, sort of like what we do when we pray. I pray for each of those people who share their blogs with us. We can add them to our prayer lists. We can reach out to them with possible solutions or wisdom, but only God can give complete and perfect answers.

Dear, Heavenly Father. You know our every need. You can relate to our struggles. You know the things that bother us and eat away at our very core. Help us to trust in you completely. Your wisdom is all that matters. This world will continue to decay, but you will always be there for us. In the name of your Son, Jesus, who took on human flesh and became one of us, I pray. Amen!

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TO CELEBRATE THOSE IN HEAVEN

Today, the church celebrates those who have preceded us in heaven – the saints, as they are referred to. This includes all those who have passed away, believing that Jesus redeemed them and prepared a special home for them in paradise. Not really knowing what heaven will be like, it’s hard to even begin to imagine what lays before us as we pass into those pearly gates leading to eternal life. When you attend a funeral, you might hear words like – He/she is in a better place – no sorrow or pain – new bodies without infirmities – sitting on a cloud – singing praises to God. You might even hear someone suggest that the loved one is playing cards – having coffee – bowling or playing golf – enjoying the good life. Somehow, those words, meant to give us comfort, really don’t. To know that they are alive again – that they have resurrected from death to life – that they are talking face to face with Jesus – that there is no more sin – that life is perfect – those are words that give us peace. Yet comfort doesn’t come to those who are left behind. It may take many years to recover from the loss of one we love. Their memory has been etched into our hearts and become part of us. Their legacy becomes ours eventually, as we follow the road they have laid for us.

The church of today has given us this “holiday” to thank God for the truth of eternal life. Protestants set this day aside to meditate on that fact and look forward to it. It is looked at as a festival. The Roman Catholic church has chosen to celebrate All Saints Day as a day of obligation and prayer for those who have died and paved the way for the rest of us to follow. Which ever way you choose to look at this day, it truly is a time of celebration. This is not just a day for saints like Peter and Paul. It isn’t reserved for the heroes of faith, like Moses, Abraham, David or Samson. The day is a time to reflect on those who trusted in God’s promise of salvation for those who believe in Him. It includes the very young, the teenagers, the middle-agers and the elderly. It includes every resident of heaven. We don’t know what heaven will be like, but I am certain it exists – that it will resemble the Garden of Eden which God originally created for man – and that I’m going there some day. How about you?

1 For all the saints who from their labors rest,
who Thee by faith before the world confessed;
Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

2 Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might;
Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;
Thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

3 O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

4 And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

5 But then there breaks a still more glorious day:
the saints triumphant rise in bright array;
the King of glory passes on His way.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

6 From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast,
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
in praise of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Author – William Walsham How (1864)

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WHAT’S HAPPY ABOUT HALLOWEEN?

Ah, the joys of the season – the holiday celebrating the living dead – the ghosts that go bump in the night – the fear filled movies that are intended to scare you to an early grave – the spirits of darkness. All of these things are not something to be happy about, but . . .

Halloween has become a million-dollar industry.ย  We live in the Halloween Capital of the World (not sure if that’s been disputed) in Anoka, Minnesota.ย  Homes are decorated to the hilt.ย There will be numerous parties. parades and candy distributed-ย encouragingย children to destroy their teeth,ย but I digress. There’s a very dark side to this holiday.ย  Demonic possession, witches, goblins, zombiesย and death permeate the darkness and, in days of old, were fended off by setting carved pumpkins outside the houses.ย  As years pass, the ability to shock the masses is getting harder and harder to achieve. We’ve almost become numb to the ugliness of the dark side.

October 31st is not only a day for spooks and demons.ย  On October 31, 1517, a lowly monk, named Martin Luther took on the Roman Catholic Church and listed 95 statements pertaining to false teachings that had spread throughout that regime.ย  Those 95 theses were the beginning of the Protestant Reformation.ย  This firestorm raged through Europe and the power of the newly invented printing press fueled its flames. The church of today has suffered attack in recent years. People question its validity. They don’t like to hear about sin, but without knowing about it, there is no need for a Savior – and, oh how we need a Savior!

Martin Luther loved music and used it as a preaching tool in his church. He penned these words to remind us that the devil still exists and has been allowed to prowl around for those he can capture and destroy. His minions appear in many places all over the world. “A Mighty Fortress is our God,” is one of Luther’s famous hymns. In the following verse we see exactly who provides a fortress against him.

Though devils all the world should fill,
All eager to devour us.
We tremble not, we fear no ill,
They shall not overpower us.
This world’s prince may still
Scowl fierce as he will,
He can harm us none,
He’s judged; the deed is done;
One little word can fell him.

Devils will continue to walk this earth until Christ returns to judge the world.ย  Not one of us will escape His judgment.ย  Yet those of us who have complete faith in God’s Word, can be confident that God promises that we will inherit eternal life when we die. Luther was a common man, a sinner just like you and me, but He diligently searched the scriptures and found controversial differences in what the Bible said and what the church was teaching.ย 

So, what do Halloween and the Reformation have in common?ย  Halloween is full of darkness, evil and horrid creatures that seek to defeat us.ย  The Reformation occurred so that the world would once more see the Light and return to God’s Word for the truth. May we continue to shine our light in a dark world and show that God has already defeated the evil one.

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MONDAY MORNING SLEEP IN . . .

I am amazed by people who get up early in the morning, do a load of wash or two, make lunches for their kids, plan supper, go out for a quick run, take a shower, get their kids up and off to school, put in a full day at work; and then come home to make supper, help kids with homework, pay the bills, watch a little TV and finally have a few hours of sleep so they can go through the whole process all over again the next day. I guess I used to do those things at one time. I’ve forgotten.

Even though Iโ€™m supposed to be retired, my time seems to get used up before my body and mind have a minute to catch up with them. This has been business as usual at our house lately. We’ve devoted a great portion of our time to filling every minute with each other. It seems that an inoperable Cancer diagnosis can do that to you. Since deciding to forego any further treatment, we’ve been putting our time to good use. Even then – trying to fill every moment can become tiresome and might become a burden in itself. We still need time to rest. We try to hang on to the controls of our lives even when our existence is loaded with worry, trouble, depression, pain and anxiety. It should be so easy to let it all go and depend on God’s promise to carry those things for us. Somehow, even that can become a struggle.

I am learning to “let go” daily. It’s a lesson that comes very hard. I try to place my worries in God’s hands but feel like I should still be involved in the process. Today, I slept in. I felt guilty about it. I will get over the feeling of guilt, but when will I learn to turn over the burden to Jesus, who promises to take it on His own back?

When we are so tired from hard work; when our bodies just canโ€™t function anymore; when life seems to be closing in on us there is only one place to go and Iโ€™m not talking about a spa or a vacation. Jesus told his followers in Matthew 11:28 โ€œCome to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.โ€

Lord, I need your loving arms to caress me each day and give me the strength to do the work I need to do. Thank you for your invitation to come to you even when Iโ€™m tired. Help me to rely on your promise and let go of the things that are unimportant. Amen!

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REFORMATION THOUGHTS

Luther at Worms

At the time of the Protestant Reformation, the Renaissance was creating many new ideas, machines that would further progress and the questioning of the reigning church of the time, the Roman Catholic Church stood with many reigning kings in various Christian nations. The thought of questioning the church was really not a possibility. Leonardo DaVinci was exploring how a man could take flight at the same time as he was working on plans for an armored tank. In his spare time, he created amazing pieces of art. World trade was bringing new ideas, new business tactics and creating a system of economics not yet experienced. King Henry VIII was in a battle with the Roman Catholic Church to bestow an annulment on his marriage to first wife, Catherine of Aragon. He finally was able to achieve a divorce and went on to marry many more women. A man named Martin Luther, struggled with the teachings of the church in Germany, and the falsehoods that were being shared among the people, encouraging them to pay their way into heaven with money or good works. Luther was a resolute Catholic. In fact, he served as a monk, prayed incessantly and went to confession as often as he prayed. Even doing those things, weren’t enough. He felt destined for hell and believed he was on a fast track there, until he discovered the truth of the Gospel. He diligently read the Bible on a daily basis. As he searched through the scriptures, he stumbled on the book of Romans. Within the pages of this book, Luther discovered that out salvation had been bought and paid for by Jesus, through His crucifixion and resurrection. It is by grace that we have all been saved.

“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, ‘the righteous shall live by faith.”

Romans 1:16-17

We know that he went before the church with his grievances by posting a list of 95 potential assumptions challenging Roman Catholicism. Eventually there was a trial after Luther had been declared a heretic. He stood strong and courageously at his trial. He was firm in his convictions, stating that if the church would show him where he was wrong, He would relinquish his claim. If they could not, He said in his final argument, ”ย Here I stand. I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.” The statement encompassed his determination. Thus began a reformation that would be spread by many men, through many avenues, countries and denominations. The fight for truth, landed Luther in jail for an entire year. During that time, he translated the Bible from Latin into German. With the advent of the printing press, the Word of God would now be available to the common man – giving them the truth of God’s unconditional love and undeserved grace.

God’s Word is our great heritage.


โ€

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CARVING OUT A NEW FACE

It’s that time of year again. Buy at least one pumpkin, cut into the top of it, scoop out all the gunk and seeds, carve out a face, put a candle inside and set it by the front door. In some areas, carving pumpkins almost becomes an artistic event to see who can become the most creative. Some grow huge pumpkins that make it into the record books. Some folks like to roast the seeds for a homemade snack, while others will use the meat of the pumpkin to make pies or yummy pumpkin bars. When you drive through the countryside at this time of the year, you’re bound to see fields of pumpkins, untouched by human hands. There are little carts along the road where you can buy one or more of this interesting squash. You pick out your own and leave the payment in a coffee can.

Did you ever think of yourself as one of those orange orbs? I tend to think about weird things like that. Not because I have nothing else to do other than think about them, but because you can really take most any subject and turn it into a lesson. Our lives are kind of like those pumpkins.ย  There are times when things begin to rot inside of us.ย  We need to get the crud out.ย  We need to empty our innards of the confusion, anxiety, stress and daily responsibilities. We can scrape away at the surface things, but only God can get in there and really clean up the gobbledy gook that stagnates and causes decay within.ย  In this day and age, you can buy Styrofoam pumpkins already carved. They look good for a while, but eventually the elements of living, wash away the outer beauty and the grime within comes out with a vengeance.

So, what’s the lesson for today? Certainly not to think of yourself as a pumpkin, but to look not only at what you see on the outside, but how cleaning up the inside can make you even more beautiful. The truth is, if left to our own devices, there is no way we can get rid of every last bit of yuck. Only God can provide the freshness of unpolluted souls and make them spotless. Because of His great love for everyone, His grace is sufficient for all of us.

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IN THE GLOAMING

PHOTOGRAPH BY PAUL BOECHER, POETRY BY KATHY BOECHER

Our days go swiftly, like an early morning dawn,
They often pass so quickly, they pass and they are gone,
We turn each page anticipating,
We long for and are waiting,
For time to take us home,
We set our course on human need and soon are pushed aside,
But holding to God’s master plan, with Him we’ll soon abide,
The lakes will turn to ice,
The trees will sacrifice,
And winter now does loom,
The end of days, a time to pray, repenting of our sins,
We softly cast our cares on God, we know He always wins,
In times of stress or pain
We look to Him for gain,
New life beyond the tomb.

Some of you know how much I love the old musical movies. I could sit and watch the same movie over and over as a child and still do. The movie, “Brigadoon” was one of those song filled stories that touches the heart and soul. Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse danced beautifully in the gloaming of a beautiful pasture of heather. It was filled with mystery, romance, tragedy, lost love and memorable music. The story was based on a fictional tale of a town that only made an appearance once every hundred years. The townspeople didn’t age from the time the spell was cast upon them many years ago.

Yesterday, we chose to wander in the gloaming – in the comfort of our car. It was such a day as the one when Brigadoon would make its magical appearance. A heavy mist was in the air after days of necessary rain. It was noon when we began our journey. As we drove further into the countryside, the mist turned into a dense fog. We could not see more than half a mile into the distance. Still, the mystical air created a beauty we would never have seen otherwise. The road ahead was clouded. The trees still held tightly to their colorful foliage, but the signs of winter were becoming more apparent. Many of those trees were already stripped of their canopy. The evidence lay on the ground below.

As we passed some church cemeteries, there was an air of finality – a grim reminder of this temporary life. Even in that, we saw a magnificent glimpse of heaven, knowing that the end of life doesn’t expire when we take our final breath. Beyond the grave, there is eternal life for those who have faith in what Jesus has done to extend our lives into eternity. That is indeed the truth – not a fairy tale or a magical musical. Days will come and go, but roaming in the gloaming is one way to enjoy even the dark days of life, with hope of a future in paradise.

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SINGING & DANCING IN THE RAIN

For some reason, I’ve become kind of hung up on old barns and beautiful autumn color lately. Maybe it’s because of our special drives this year. Maybe it’s because the character that abounds in those rugged buildings that have seen better days. I think about those who tended the animals in those structures – who milked the cows – tossed hay into the stables – worked and almost lived in those edifices. It could be because I have a special love for this time of the year. The smells, sounds and sights arouse all my senses. Fresh apples, pumpkin spice and the crunch of fallen leaves under my feet.

For the past few days, we’ve had our share of rain in the area. Now those beautifully peaked colors will be disseminated into the earth to prepare it for the winter. For me,ย rain conjures up thoughts of God’s tears falling on us, either to wake us up or to calm and refresh us.ย ย ย I thinkย God cries when He sees all the evil that infests our world.ย  When wars erupt and nations fight against nations, the storms seem to increase. His heart must ache when someone denies His existence but imagine His joy when a lost lamb returns to the fold.

My mind goes back to a wonderful old movie – “Singing in the Rain.” I remember Gene Kelley dancing, splashing in puddles, all while being attached to his umbrella. I have dreamed about dancing like that – in the rain – with no pain in my knees and joy in my feet. I know that dream will come true someday. In the meantime, I will remember what benefits we gain when it rains. It makes my heart happy to think of what God does through all elements of the weather and the change of seasons. Even when winter finally comes and death is near, He is with us through every storm.

What a glorious feeling, I’m happy again!

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MAKING ART . . .

My husband is an avid wood carver. His love for chiseling on a chunk of wood probably dates back to his younger years, sitting around a campfire and whittling. He made a living doing wood sculptures for restaurants, individual residences and lake homes. He was once commissioned to create a mermaid mast head for a restaurant here in Minneapolis. NSince today is “International Artist Day,” I thought about all the art he has created in his lifetime. It has been a gift, not only to those who own a piece of his art, but also for our family. Paul has given that creative part of himself to his children and grandchildren. His work has also inspired many poems from me.

It was somewhere around 1978 when a contest was held in our community by a local vendor of wooden art pieces. When he found out about the contest, Paul decided to introduce our three kids to the art of whittling. Each of them had a piece to start with. They chiseled away at the wood, engraving feathers and other features into the duck decoys. As they worked, I could see a bond growing between them as well. With each mark made into the wood, there would be conversation, laughter and learning for all of them. I sat along with them, with a small knife, pushing away wood from a stick to create my version of art. Unfortunately, the only thing I produced were blisters, invading slivers and calloused fingers. I did enjoy the family time, however. I believe each of our three children came away with an actual prize in that contest. They were thrilled with the results. Paul’s reward came in the form of earned respect, building a bond with his family and stirring their creative juices.

Each of us has talents and gifts, given to us by our Creator. Some are great musicians, singers, dancers, writers, fine artists, actors. Some have been gifted with great minds and intellect. Some have the talent to encourage others, inspire them and lead. Some don’t even know that a talent may be lying dormant within them. As we pay special attention to artists today, let’s remember that the One who created life from the start, still provides each of us with special gifts. It’s up to us to nurture and use those gifts to help others and bring joy to their lives.

โ€œArt washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.โ€ โ€“ย Pablo Picasso

โ€œI saw the angel in the marble and carved until i set him free.โ€ โ€“ย Michelangelo

โ€œWhere the spirit does not work with the hand, there is no art.โ€ โ€“ย Leonardo da Vinci

โ€œIf you hear a voice within you say โ€˜you cannot paint,’ then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.โ€ โ€“ย Vincent van Gogh

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SISTER

My sister came into this world almost five years after I had established myself as the number one grandchild on both sides of the family.ย  I was the chief kingpin and I was not about to let her take over my place in the hierarchy.ย  When we were children, I was the most politically incorrect of all big sisters.ย  I made her sit on the back of the bus.ย  I convinced her, that when we washed dishes, all she had to do was the silverware – which included anything silver,ย like the caked on, food encrusted kettles and cooking utensils.ย  I’d take care of the glasses and plates.ย  I purposely ignored her when my friends came over and she wanted to join in.ย  We fought constantly and even more intensely as I entered puberty.ย  Once we bothย ventured out of the security of the nest, we realized how important we were to each other.

Our mother gave us the gift of laughter and that has carried us through most of life’s challenges and adventures.ย  Through the years, I watched as she struggled to have children, while I was already raising three of them.ย  I saw her grow into an independent woman, even in those times.ย  Her husband started a franchise business and she worked alongside him, until one day she decided to go on strike.ย  There she was, outside her husband’s business, with a picket sign.ย  All my bullying must’ve made her stronger.ย  OK, I won’t take credit for that.ย  We both had early experiences with death as our mother’s side of the family seemed to be dropping like flies during our childhood.ย  We learned how to weep over loss and still maintain the dignity of carrying on in adversity.ย  Mom and dad made sure we had a spiritual base.ย  Laughter, strength, hope and faith in God, all played an important part in our upbringing.

As the years advance, we grow even closer together. Our homes are in different states, but our thoughts and prayers for each other continue now for our husbands, for facing the aging process, for strength to get through it all and the wisdom to know how to handle it. God bless you, my dear sister. You will always be my best friend in the whole wide world.

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FINAL DAYS OF OCTOBER

“October is the month of painted leaves.
Their rich glow now flashes round the world.
As fruits and leaves and the day itself
acquire a bright tint just before they fall,
so the year near its setting.
October is its sunset sky;
November the later twilight.” Henry David Thoreau

This most majestic month, when God pulls out all the stops, filling the air with smells of burning leaves, pumpkin spice, harvested corn. Where fresh apple pies are on the menu. Where colors of many shades of gold, red and rust invade the forests and landscapes. Where summer melts into bales of hay in the field – squirrels and other critters forage for their winter sustenance – marshmallows are roasted over an open fire – hay wagons pull carts of people instead of hay, as they snuggle into flannel shirts. This month has been one of searching for us. As we took our little drives through the country roads around us, we were allowed to retreat from life as we knew it – even for a little while. We will continue to fill our days with positive thoughts and prayers.

In October, we celebrate the harvest. We purchase fresh pumpkins and apples. October Festivals are held for just about every reason. We have holidays for almost every day of the month, including Breast Cancer Awareness, Down Syndrome Awareness, Black Cat Awareness and Substance Abuse Awareness. It’s the spooky time of the year when ghosts and goblins supposedly roam the earth, scaring everyone. Maybe we’ll have more than one trick or treater this year. October is the month of Halloween. It is also the time when Protestants celebrate the reformation of the church in Martin Luther’s day. My sister has a birthday and so did my son-in-law.

Most importantly, this month indicates the changing of seasons. Autumn is our most glorious time of the year. With the range of God’s palette, we are treated to all kinds of beauty. It is the epitome of the year. It also signals the coming of winter. Life is like that too. Each season has its own beauty and majesty. The green, fresh sprouting of new life comes in spring. Summer brings warmth and rain to make things grow. Autumn is a time of reflection and winter ends it all, with her frozen air, her dancing snowflakes, her frost upon the windowpanes. Each one is filled with beauty. Each one has a purpose. Every human life is the same. Each is filled with beauty. Each has a purpose. We are all unique.

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MY QUIET PLACE

ART & INSPIRATION BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER

This time of year, used to be reserved for hunting deer, squirrel, pheasants. I remember coming home one day to find recently besieged and already rigamortised pheasants staring at me from the refrigerator. We quickly put an end to that. Soon hunting became more of an escape to his happy place. Even though there was an occasional loss to the deer population, Paul found pleasure in absorbing as much of God’s creation that he could. He’d experience little chickadees landing on his shoulders. He witnessed deer munching on acorns just a few feet away from him. A majestic eagle would soar above, surveying his next meal. The sounds, smells and touch of being in the outdoors has since become one of his favorite spots.

We all desire a quiet place – a place made just for us. It can be the peaceful beauty of a flower garden, where the only sounds are birds chirping and singing their messages to other birds. It can be the serene humming of a bee as it pollenates each ripe bloom. It can be the hum of a tractor or a combine as the fields of summer are harvested. It could be the vision of an old run down barn or a newly built one. It might be a place that doesn’t even exist.

My quiet place is often a creation I make within the deepest parts of my mind. My imagination carries me over raging seas into a blissful paradise. A kaleidoscope of tiny fragments of memories creates delightful patterns on the ceiling. Soft, muted lights with shadows of intricately woven lace are pressed into the wall. Colors are blurred and brush strokes swirl them into a quiet energy. This energy revitalizes, restores and renews. All of it is created by a loving Father who uses His strength to bring peace. This is my quiet place – the place where comfort abounds and chaos takes a long vacation.

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THE LAST HURRAH

ORIGINALย ART & POETRY BY KATHY BOECHERยฉ

The flowers shout their last hurrah, they cling to hidden light,

They go to sleep and hide their heads, when day turns into night,

With wild anticipation then, they hope they will survive,

Theย wicked days of autumn’s grip stillย keeps them now alive,

Each morning gives them new desire, to live again that day,

As morning mist caresses them and sends them on their way,

Soon summer will turn chilly, the days grow shorter still,

The life is sapped from growing things, as fall retrieves each will,

Like us those flowers soon will die, but life is never lost,

It will return in springtime morns,ย arisen from the frost,

We too will come back into life, once all our breath is spent,

As Jesus rose from death’s strong hold, we will reach our ascent.

Posted in Art & poetry by Kathy Boecher, cancer, life after death, seasons | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

THE FAITH TO LET GO

When someone tells you to walk by faith and not by sight, what does that mean? Even though faith is something intangible, it requires action. We can’t see faith – we can’t hear it – it isn’t something we respond to by touch, taste or smell, yet it is one of the senses that’s built into us at our conception. The action of faith is stirred by the Holy Spirit at our baptism. That physical action is nurtured through our early years all the way through our lives. So how does an invisible God – Holy Spirit – Son of God become reality to us? Simply by faith.

Our faith can be tested throughout our journey. We may suffer loss, defeat, pain, disease, hopelessness, depression and anxiety because of it. We go through the years constantly wondering why. We struggle through those things and feel the testing should end soon – don’t we? We try to rationalize our faith, but we fall short because of everything that’s happening around us. One of the meanings of faith is to have complete trust and belief in something that isn’t seen. We certainly can’t see God, but we can see the results of His creation. We can witness His existence through nature, through a baby’s smile, through the courage of those who help others. We can see His power in the weather, the majesty of the mountains, the glory of the painted trees in autumn and the compassion man shows to his fellowman. We see Gods results when we pray. We can sometimes see that His answers don’t always jive with ours. Because His wisdom is infinite, we know He’s doing whatever is necessary to draw us closer to Him.

Our vision will fade over time. Some of us will suffer from cataracts, macular degeneration or eventual blindness. Our tunnel vision may no longer exist. We may have to give up driving because of it. In a way, we go back to our childhood as we age. That innocence of that smiling baby is again toothless. Our reliance on others to help us becomes necessity. Our attempts at reviving most of our senses is beyond our control. Our God and His power will never fail. He is the same today as He was on the first week of creation. He controls everything, even the air we breathe. Instead of wondering how we can have the courage to go on, we should be confident that His power will get us through anything. Faith is knowing that God is with us. He has a wonderful plan already waiting for each one of us when we walk by faith.

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WHAT IS TICKY TACKY ANYWAY?

My husband and I have been on a journey this year. It started almost three years ago as his body went through some difficult changes because of a cancer that was treated and supposedly in remission. It came back this year. We’re trying to fill each day with something that will give us time together, new memories and prayers that God’s will is going to be done. These recent months have been filled with mini vacations, which include driving close to home and exploring nature.

Yesterday we drove west, to one of our old neighborhoods. It has now sprawled out to the suburbs even further, taking away some of the beautiful farmland we used to enjoy. Rolling hills are now covered with the little boxes referred to in that old song about “Ticky Tacky.” I found the lyrics on the Internet, and they really are a look at progress and how it can change not only our landscape, but also the people that live on it. The dilapidated barn in the picture above is a common sight. The barns are usually accompanied with broken down, boarded up houses which are no longer habitable. As we passed through what used to be small towns, there now stood rows and rows of houses, apartments and condominiums. High density construction was filling the once abundant farm acreage and destroying some of God’s beauty. Every neighborhood looked the same. The charm of those old barns, homes and buildings was forever erased from the landscape. A very sad commentary on progress.

As our drive continued, I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before every semblance of the past will be gone in our country. Beautifully rolling hills, filled with crops, farm implements, and hard-working people will be replaced with more ticky tacky that all looks the same. Not to mention that people are all becoming the same. In the hopes of being different, they change the color of their hair or shave their heads. They pierce areas of their skin that shouldn’t be pierced, cover other parts with tattoos and try to be independent of what used to be normal. Instead, they are all becoming more of the same. I pray that my great-grandchildren will still be able to experience the beauty of God’s creation, before it’s all covered up with little boxes that all look the same.

In a way, our lives resemble that “ticky tack.” We strive to make a difference in a changing world. We set goals, we punch a time clock, we go through the motions of living, but are we really living. We forget that change is constant on this planet, but God never changes.

LITTLE BOXES By Malvina Reynolds.

Little boxes on the hillside
Little boxes made of ticky tacky
Little boxes, little boxes
Little boxes all the same

There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same

And the people in the houses all went to the university

Where they all were put in boxes
Little boxes all the same

And there’s doctors and there’s lawyers
And business executives

And they’re all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martini dry
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university
Where they all get put in boxes
And they all come out the same

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family

And they all get put in boxes
Little boxes all the same

There’s a green one, and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same

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THE LONG WEEKEND

Today begins a long weekend for students in Minnesota. They call it MEA WEEKEND, because a convention is held annually for teachers in our state. Therefore, students get a couple of days off. Teachers can choose to attend the convention or take those days off too. My husband and I are retired, so one day often runs into the next and since we can’t afford to travel too far, we’ve opted for short drives into natural areas for rejuvenation. I’ve been thinking about checking out some of the MEA options for recreational purposes. Maybe there’s something on those pages of events for children that might appeal to us.

How about going to a pumpkin patch? Well, I already bought one pumpkin this year and have a few fake ones in the garage. I don’t really need one. How about a corn maze? I wonder if they provide walkers for the elderly. Otherwise, we can cross that off the list as well. I read that you can take a free streetcar ride in St. Paul but finding a parking place is a whole other story. We could go apple picking at a local orchard and have some cider afterwards, but my climbing trees days are long gone. I wonder how old Adam and Eve were when they went apple picking. I’ll just pick up some apples at the store and say we went to an apple orchard instead. A hayride might be fun but would certainly set me to sneezing. There are tons of events for children and their young parents to indulge in during this extended weekend in October. What about us old fogies?

Aging doesn’t have to put the elderly on the back burner. We can still get in our cars and take photographs from the comfort of the front seat with the window rolled down. So, it looks like another weekend adventure coming up.

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WHAT ARE YOUR PRIORITIES?

Our priorities often change over time. When we’re young and life is staring us in the face, we can take it on with little fear of failure. As we grow older, we see that life is fickle and things we didn’t expect to happen – do. We run through obstacles that should be building our character, but more than often, they can stunt our ability to proceed. As our older years approach and our bodies are incapable of doing what they did ten years ago, we get frustrated and even wonder why we worked so hard for so long. Our priorities become unimportant.

So, why do we push forward? Why do we set goals for ourselves? Why do we try to climb the ladder of success only to be knocked down in the process? In a way, unless we do something memorable, meaningful to mankind or become famous for some amazing discovery, we’ll be nothing more than a name on a gravestone when we die. That sounds really negative, doesn’t it? We all want to leave some semblance of ourselves behind when the time comes, but why is that so important to us? I think the answer lies in the expectations placed upon us throughout our days of living. Many of those assumptions are much more than we can legitimately accomplish. It makes more sense to set realistic goals.

As I approach this final season of my life, I can’t help but think about this. Do any of my successes matter? Maybe my losses matter more. Perhaps the goals of one’s life have absolutely nothing to do with us personally. I know that is true in my case. As I press on to my heavenly home, I know that I have nothing to do with that either. My God has provided that destination for me through His unconditional love. If I didn’t have that truth to lean on, everything else would be meaningless. Knowing that I am a loved, child of God is all that’s necessary.

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DOES GOD HEAR US WHEN WE’RE ANGRY?

Is it alright to pray when our hearts are full of anger? I think itโ€™s probably a really good idea. God is fully aware of whatโ€™s going on inside of us. We shouldnโ€™t be afraid or embarrassed to approach Him with our deepest cares or fears. In many of the Psalms, David rails against his enemies. He shouts for their destruction, and he screams for vengeance. That ordinarily doesnโ€™t fit the Christian attitude of turning the other cheek. We have similar situations that make us angry, even though we aren’t in some of the tight spots David had to endure. Our battles are just as real to us as his were to him.

If you’re dealing with someone who has lied to you, betrayed you, hurt you in any way, Jesus tells us to love them. He says we should pray for them. How can we do that without having negative thoughts? We can’t, but still God invites us to come to Him in all circumstances and pray. He will hear our prayers. He will soothe our angry souls. He will give us wisdom and the right words to use. One of the greatest prayers of all times is the one that Jesus left for us. The Lord’s prayer tells us to ask for forgiveness – to keep us from temptation and deliver us from evil. When we’re angry, we need God more than anything else. He alone can relieve those thoughts from our mind. By leading us away from our anger, He is delivering us from the temptation to sin. What a special relationship we have with our Creator. He knows everything about us; He knows our fears and doubts; He perceives our deepest thoughts and still He loves us.

Thank you, Lord for putting up with my angry moments. You are the only One who knows my heart. I am confident that you are in control and that someday I will finally experience true freedom. Amen!

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