Archive | DiVoran Lites My Take- Monday RSS feed for this section

Divine Sparks Part~2

10 Feb

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and ArtistThe next time I felt the divine spark of God’s love was when the strained seams of our marriage started to open up. By this time, we had two small children and lived in Titusville where Bill worked with the Space Program. By this time even though we had been married twelve years, we had never learned to communicate or to appreciate each other.

At this time, I begged God for help. I asked him to change our marriage, beginning with me. We had some counseling and some help and we finally started talking to each other. We told each other every bad and good thing we’d thought and experienced since we’d known each other and all about our childhoods. We laughed, we cried, and in a new way, we became truly married.

Even better, we both continued talking to God. Any time I think about sharing my divine sparks with someone else, I wonder: when did I actually receive Christ? Was it when I saw the power and love represented in the majestic peaks near our Colorado home? Maybe it was later in Titusville when my Sunday School teacher went through the Four Spiritual Laws. I saw then that it was not enough to give intellectual assent to who Christ was, but I needed to invite Him to take over my life.

I’ve had quite a journey with many divine sparks along the way. Knowing I’m going to Heaven when I die gives me lots of security and peace. God saving our marriage was the biggest and most important thing He’s done so far. But he also got us through some tough times. He did another miracle that changed me profoundly. He let me see who I was in Him. I wasn’t just a person who needed to be kept in her place; I was unique and special. You are unique and special too. God never made an exact duplicate of any person and He has a reason and a purpose for knitting each of us in our mother’s womb.

I had to have some more counseling later in life. My occasional bouts of depression had spun out into four months of feeling rotten. The biggest thing my counselor discovered out of all my ramblings was that I cared more what other people wanted than what God wanted. I said, “I know I should do this or that, I know I ought to feel this way or that way.” But the only way I was ever going to be settled and joyful was to find out the truth about who I really was. My wants, needs, desires, interests, counted with god. He gave them to me. By listening kindly to myself, I could listen more kindly to everyone else. Since that time, I have become more excited about life than I’ve ever been before. Who knows what wonderful things God has in store? The greatest things is knowing Him. I still need to be validated, It’s important for people to respect me. But now I know Someone perfect, unchanging, and powerful, who will always love me, who will never leave me or forsake me. My needs are covered by His righteousness. He gives me faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Chinese New Year Celebration

3 Feb

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and ArtistI don’t stay up until midnight on New Year’s Eve, any more, but this year, I received an invitation to attend a Chinese New Year celebration with my friend, Annie, from Beijing, and I was delighted. Her Bible study group has socials just as our church does, but their native language is Chinese and they are like a family here in this challenging country of ours.

I knew red was the color for Chinese New Year and, wanting to be cooperative, I bought a red sweater for the occasion. Inside the house where the party was, though, I was the only one in the twenty-five person group who didn’t leave her shoes at the door. I became slightly embarrassed and told Annie I would take them off. She said no.

“There’s no good reason I can’t do that,” I said.

“The floor’s cold,” Annie answered.

My answer was … “Okay.” You see, I don’t like cold feet any more than anyone else does.

Annie and I chatted, in English (of course) while we waited to get to the potluck dishes. “It’s in my bones to take my shoes off in the house,” she said, “but I don’t insist my daughter and husband do it.” Her husband is American and their daughter is “mixed,” as Annie says.

When you think about the pictures you’ve seen of Chinese New Year, you think of a dragon parade, firecrackers, and chi-paos. I hope I got that right. That means those gorgeous satin dresses with the Mandarin collars and frog closures. One little girl wore a green one to the party and she looked lovely. The women’s Bible study leader wore Chinese style dress as well. I was glad.

The host, a gastroenterologist, asked me if it was all right if they said the blessing in Chinese. My goodness yes! I was amazed that he asked. The food was good. For the fun of it, I tried using chopsticks to lift noodles from a serving bowl. I felt eyes upon me, but there were no giggles. Laughing at a person would not be polite and the Chinese people I know are nobly and graciously polite. That’s something else that’s bred in their bones.

These friends of Annie’s treated me like royalty. I felt it was because of the tradition of respecting their elders, but I’m sure they would have been as kind and attentive to any guest. A steady stream of women took turns coming to chat with me at the table.

When Maddy heard that Annie and I met in art class, she began to tell me about Akiane, a young woman who paints pictures of Heaven. She’s only sixteen years old now, but when she was five she visited Heaven, as the four-year-old Colton did whose story is told in Heaven is Real. It was difficult for Maddy to talk to me in English, but she persevered. She told me about the paintings and about Jesus and Heaven. She got someone’s phone and showed me the paintings and they are indeed incredible.

In olden times, oh say 4712 BC, or so, when the traditions of Chinese New Year first began, folks believed a dragon would come and eat them during that season, if they didn’t frighten it away. By the twelfth century they had fireworks that worked fine for the purpose. Our celebration had no fireworks to scare a dragon away, but we had something better … prayer and a recorded sermon. Everyone sat quietly and listened. The sermon was in Cinese with an English interpretation. Annie thought the sermon a bit long, and I had to agree, but she was impressed with the expertise of the interpreter.

It’s wonderful to meet Christians anywhere and at any time. There’s a common love of Christ and of God’s word that binds us together. What a miracle. We are truly brothers and sisters in Christ and it’s not only satisfying, but it can be a lot of fun as well. “When we all get to Heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be. When we all see Jesus, we’ll sing and shout the victory.” (Christian Hymn, “When we all Get to Heaven,” words Emily D. Wilson, tune, Eliza E. Hewitt)

Chinese

Chinese New Year

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Divine Sparks

27 Jan

My Take 

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and ArtistI recently read that prestige is the most important thing to any human being. How do researchers come up with these things? It rings true, and yet there has to be something more, something better. I think its love. Love is as essential to sustain life as the basic need for food and shelter.

And, oh, the things we’ll do to get love, translated attention. I desire attention. I want to be validated, it’s important for people to respect me.

When I was a young mother, our baby thought the earth centered on her. That was hard for me because until that time I thought I was the center. Then I found out that everyone thinks that at first. What a surprise!

I did many things to stay in the center of the universe and get all the love and attention I needed. Mostly I tried to please other people. Sometimes I tried to please the right people and sometimes the wrong people. Trying to please the wrong people can get you in lots of trouble.

I knew God was out there, but I had no idea that he wanted to meet my needs. The first time I remember hearing about Jesus was in my five-year-old Sunday School class with Auntie Elvira. She never had any children of her own, but we were all her kin as far as she was concerned. She told us stories from the Bible and we learned to sing, “Jesus Loves Me.” That was nice. My parents loved me, Jesus loved me, and Auntie Elvira loved me.

God has always been in my life, but the next time I remember becoming aware of him was one day when I looked out my bedroom window at the majestic mountains and knew that the One who had created them knew me and had created me too.

When I was twelve, I took over teaching the Sunday School from another teacher, who was sixteen, because she was ill. I liked learning and I liked teaching, and some of what I learned must have stuck with me, because I received from it a desire for cultivating a life of connection with our Lord, which I have done. I find it immensely gratifying. I’m so grateful my Lord and Auntie Elvira reached out to me. I visited with Auntie Elvira when she was very old and told her so, and I visit with God frequently to thank him, too.

**********To Be Continued**********

Tags: , , , , ,

Our Trip to the UK~Part 8

22 Jan

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

Bill Lites

 

Continuing north again, next we stopped at the tiny village of Hill Top, located close to Ambleside in Near Sawrey, in the English Lake District.   Hill Top is the home of Beatrix Potter, who was the English author and illustrator, best known for her imaginative children’s books.  Her books featured animals such as those in her first book, “The Tale of Peter Rabbit” written in 1902, and described the English landscape and the country life she knew as a child and loved so much.  The small cabin where she wrote many of her books, is arranged with much of her original furniture, and surrounded with beautiful gardens.

1

                                               

DiVoran tells me that as a child, Beatrix was not allowed to play with other children, and spent the summers in the country with her brother.  Nature became their favorite subject, and it was there that Beatrix taught herself to draw bunnies, hedgehogs, and the like.  Later, when one of Beatrix’s brother’s children was ill, she wanted to send a message of cheer, so she wrote a story and illustrated it.  And, that is how her career as a children’s author started.  She was one of DiVoran’s favorite children’s story authors, and she read most of the 23 “Peter Rabbit” books to our children when they were young.  As you can see from the picture below, DiVoran had to sit in that garden, and just imagine how wonderful it would be to live there and be able to write in such a beautiful and serene place.

2

 

 When I was finally able to pull DiVoran away from Hill Top, we proceeded on north to our next stop, which was Keswick, England.  As it happened, we got there on a Friday, and our hosts at the B & B informed us that the next day was “Market Day” in town.  We were not able to partake of the wonderful fruits and vegetables, but we did have a grand time walking the streets with all the people, checking out the variety of shops, and  enjoying the street minstrels (known as Buskers) who added to the festivities with their beautiful music.

3

 I believe it was in Keswick where we stopped in one of the local pubs for lunch, and they seated us in a small booth for two called a “Snug.”  One of the problems we found in English pubs, was their meals were just too much food for us, so we tried to share as often as we could agree on a particular entre.  This time we decided we would try one of the house specials, “Lancashire hotpot” which is a dish made traditionally from lamb or mutton, carrots and onions, topped with sliced potatoes, and then left to bake in the oven all day in a heavy pot, on a low heat.  Kinda like our “Slow Cooker” or the ever popular “Crock Pot” that is one of the American working gal’s best friends.  It was yummy!

4

                                   

As we headed North again, the next point of interest was Hadrian’s Wall, said by many to have stretched all the way across the north of England from Wallsend, on the River Tyne, west along the Cumbria coast to Bowness on-Soliday.  Construction was begun by the Romans in 122 AD and, amazingly, was largely completed in six years.  Construction was divided into lengths of about 5 miles, with one Roman Legion (4000-5000 men) excavating the foundations, building the milecastles and turrets.  Then another legion would follow with the wall construction.  There is no mention as to how many legions were required to build this 75-mile long project, but it had to have been several. 

5                                   

 

 

—–To Be Continued—–

 

 

 

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

Before and After War

20 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and Artist

Before and After War

Before Daddy went away to war

He worked in a tomato plant.

Working hard, that’s what dads are for.

He didn’t rave and he didn’t rant.

When Dad got home, he laid down to rest

I sat on the end of the couch each night

To us that part of the day was best.

I stroked his hair, I did it right.

But while he was away at war

He got hurt inside, I guess

He was different, bruised and sore.

And he doesn’t lay on the couch anymore.

 

I’d still like to stroke his hair,

And make him feel all better.

But I guess that I can’t help him

He’s now an old war vetter.

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Blogger’s Early Bird Special

13 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and ArtistTuesday evening we had a blogger’s early bird dinner at Sweet Tomatoes in Orlando. Onisha, Bill, and I rode over together from our town on the East Coast, One of Louise’s daughters brought her, and the other met us there. Judy and Fred brought Janet Perez Eckles. Onisha’s daughter, Rebekah Lyn met us and we all sat at the table and told our tales with a great deal of laughter thrown in.

The one thing that separated the group from most others was the spirit of encouragement and validation show by everyone there to everyone else. You could even promote it to respect and admiration. Someone mentioned that Louise should be elected poet laureate of the Old Things are New blogging group. Janet Eckles who has gone to the same church with Judy and Fred for many years said, “They are the true salt of the earth. I wanted each of them to know that Onisha is a gifted publicist and technology expert, Also it was important that they realized how much of a servant’s heart Bill has. He thinks a day in which he hasn’t had a chance to help anyone is a wasted day. We were all amazed at the joy and comfort the Lord has given to Janet in the face of adversity and how He is using her. You can see her story on the All Things R New video sent out Wednesday, January 8. I told about Rebekah Lyn Books and its founder Rebekah and how much knowledge and experience she has in publishing her fine novels Indie style and she was gracious enough to share some of that knowledge with us. It was a wonderful time together, and I’m hoping we’ll probably make it an annual event. You know how quickly those years roll around. Here’s a little of what the others had to say about it:

Onisha

It began with hugs, ended with more hugs, and in between was filled with the crackling excitement of freely flowing creativity and fun.

Bill

It’s always fun for me to meet new people. I think one of the most interesting aspects of the evening is that we all had a common interest (writing) and even though our writing interests were different, we sparked each other, similar to “clustering” or “networking” without even knowing we were doing it. Each person had their own brand of writing, but as the evening progressed, you could feel the different brands begin to mingle together in a very natural way. It was fun to watch it happening and be a part of it too

Judy and Fred

We shared a joyous time together with our fellow bloggers. While we knew everyone but one, it was such fun to meet that one (and her daughters), and finally join personality with faces. But just to connect in this way filled us up.

Janet Perez Eckles

It’s one thing to have a delightful dinner with friends. It’s another to bring home a treasure chest of laughter, insight, encouragement, joy and theexpectation of more memories.

That’s what I found last evening when I met a precious group of talented, tenderhearted, fun-loving new friends. God surely smiled at me while we chatted…Dancing the salsa of gratitude as my life is now richer with these new best friends I just met last evening!

Louise Gibson

It was such a heartwarming experience meeting everyone last evening. Such a friendly group of people that reached out to one another in Christian love. A meeting of the minds, so to speak. My poem this week is about friendships. I had just completed it before I checked my e-mail. I don’t feel qualified to speak for the group, but I was so pleased to meet all of you. Even though we had never met in person, I felt so comfortable meeting all of you. I truly felt blessed. I felt so truly blessed. I thank God for the experience, and I thank all of you for welcoming both of my daughters. They loved meeting all of you. To be able to bond with people is an act of God, so our gratitude is to Him directly.

Left to right-Judy Wills, DiVoran Lites, Onisha Ellis, Lynn Shepherd (web genius) Louise Gibson, Janet Perez Eckles, Back row Bill Lites

Left to right-Judy Wills, DiVoran Lites, Onisha Ellis, Lynn Shepherd (web genius) Louise Gibson, Janet Perez Eckles, Back row Bill Lites

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Multigenerational Friendships

6 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and ArtistHow do you put a bit of spice in an otherwise humdrum life? For me, nothing works like making a new friend. Oh, I don’t go around indiscriminately claiming to be friends with everyone, but if I give it a bit of thought, the friends are there. Perhaps I haven’t taken the time to develop them.

Starting close to home geographically, I have a dear friend among the neighbors. I’ve known her forty-four years. Our kids grew up together running free in the woods, building forts, riding bikes. They got through high school and went their separate ways, but still on holidays if any of them happen to end up in the area at the same time, they congregate in the driveway for a confab. The youngest of them will soon be fifty. Two of them call us from far away to chat and that’s gratifying and enjoyable.

Bill and I still have friends our own age, who went to elementary school with us. Since we never lost touch over all these years we have a lot of continuity and understanding, and due to the wonder of mail (e and snail) we know what’s going on in each other’s lives. A couple of winters ago I came across a photo of my eighth grade principal, and wrote Patricia to ask what she recalled about him. She still lives in Colorado, and she sent back a story not only reminiscing about the principal, but with the addition of other memories. That winter was extremely cold in Colorado and even in Florida we struggled to stay warm. Patricia and I holed up with space heaters and our computers in our respective homes, and ended up writing a whole book back and forth about the late forties and early fifties of our childhood. I still have a good friend from beauty school too. She lives in California and we email each other frequently. But those aren’t exactly multigenerational, except that they do stretch across the generations.

When I was young, the small town sheriff would come into our restaurant and I’d be allowed to sit with him and hear his stories as my parents bustled back and forth serving food and drink. Other merchants in our two blocks of Main Street befriended my brother and me, too: Miss Lily at the post office, Mr. Cope at the drugstore, and Mrs. Canda at Canda’s grocery. Mrs. Canda taught my second grade class and after she retired from teaching I’d stop at her store on my way home from the restaurant to visit.

Now I’ve made friends with the brother and sister who moved in, with their parents, across the street. They come for short visits and talk about what’s going on in their lives. This is an especially interesting time of year because one of them has a birthday and of course there’s always school and holidays to look forward to. They home school and are a fountain of information about the highly approved way their mom does things.

We have a whole array of ages at church. I teach a small Sunday School class which is a joy and a goldmine of young friends. The youngest is five years old and the eldest soon to be eleven. I believe they consider me their friend, and may continue to do so into adulthood. That’s a wonderful feeling!

A new friend is a vet from one of the Middle Eastern wars we’ve had in the past decade. I haven’t asked which one, but he has not been reluctant to tell Bill and me about some of his adventures when, after church, we drop him off at work. He has been shot four times, been injured jumping from airplanes, been knifed, and has had multiple operations. The great thing about this gentleman is that he is rebuilding his life inch by inch and one of his greatest healers is his fabulous gift of music. For praise team, he plays whichever instrument needs playing while the rest of us sing.

I have a friend who is finishing high school and getting ready to go to college or join the military. She and I, her guardian, and her cousins go to the library together sometimes. We have a lot in common because we all enjoy reading.

Of course we like keeping our relatives as friends, and that can include a multitude of ages. To rely solely on our children and grandchildren for company, however, would surely be a mistake. They have their lives, and we have ours. Many people of all ages look for friendship, as we do, so there’s no reason to sit around and pine.

Here’s a link to some things I’ve learned about friendship over the years. One thing I know: it is the greatest tool God ever gave us to keep from becoming unnaturally lonely.

Here’s an excellent blog about a multi-generational friendship that began on Face Book.

Do you have a  favorite place to meet new friends?

Tags: , ,

Heaping Coals of Fire

30 Dec

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and ArtistAs I write, my soup heats on the stove. A banner blows from the porch over bright red poinsettias in sunshine. A shiny whirly-gig spins on the back fence. Red tallow tree leaves flutter in the breeze. I’ve had two days of being down with a cold, but today I’m feeling myself again and everything looks better and brighter.

I just had a rest listening to Dino’s incredible piano hymns on my new Pandora radio station coming from Bill’s iPhone. The cat lay on my chest purring the whole time.

Before that Bill and I cleaned house so it would be fur-free when, tomorrow, one of our grown children’s friends brings his family for a rare visit. They live in the Atlanta area and we live in Florida, so we don’t see them often, but we do talk on the phone.

Bill vacuumed and I dusted. It was cool on the porch, but not too cold to water the plants and run a dust rag over the shelf where we keep them. Oh, yes, some hot-pink Christmas cactus is in bloom there, too. I filled the birdbath and the painted buntings came to bathe, to drink, and to eat the seed Bill put out for them.

As I was lying down to rest, just before the cat got comfortable, while the music was playing softly, Bill brought in a vintage book he’s reading: Strange Scriptures. It was written by a missionary by the name of Barbara M. Bowen who lived in Palestine and published her book with Wm. B. Eerdman in 1945. It explains many of the things we read in the Bible by telling how the people of Bible lands have lived since the days of Abraham.

He read about coals of fire, Romans 12:20. Mrs. Bowen explained that where she and her husband lived people kept a brazier of fire going in their homes at all times. If the coals went out they sent someone to a neighbor’s house for fresh ones. If the neighbor was loving and generous she filled the container for the coals full and it was carried on the head back to the fireless home. Paul said that if we give our enemies food and drink, we are heaping coals of fire on their heads. In that day and time it meant to forgive fully and generously. Such love and forgiveness can only be experienced through the Spirit of God and those who love and trust Him.

It had been one year since Bill’s heart attack. As he read to me, he had his ball cap on, ready to run an errand. My bed was the right mix of firm and soft. The house was neither too warm nor too cold. Our work was done, our house was clean. The radio played softly, “It is Well with My Soul,” and it truly was well with our souls. Sometimes such moments arrive and we treasure them fleetingly. I wanted to share this one with you and wish you a New Year full of them.

Tags: , , , , , ,

Dateline Flanders, December 24, 1914

24 Dec

DiVoran shared a wonderful poem over on Rebekah Lyn Books.  I hope you find it as touching as I did. Merry Christmas to each of our bloggser and readers. I hope you are able to spend time with your loved ones. Remember our soldiers both past and present~ Love, Onisha

candle05

Dateline Flanders, December 24, 1914

By DiVoran Lites

 Cold night, starry night,

Not a solider here in sight.

Trenches dug as deep as graves,

No one stirs, and no one waves.

Suddenly from out the dark

Comes a candle like a spark

Set upon a small pine tree

Lighting bold and shining free.

German sign ‘cross no man’s land

A song rings out, a friendly hand.

Sunrise comes, thus ends the night.

“You don’t fight. We don’t fight.”

Daylight now, they bury dead

Not in trench, but grave instead

Then the boys share gifts of food

In Christmas cheer and kindly mood

And then a bit of playful rest

The touch of Life, a game of zest

Until the Brass Hats get the word

Oh, no, they say, it’s too absurd.

Get back to work and shoot some more

Peacefulness is such a bore.

The Christmas truce comes to an end,

Millions dead before the mend

In the spring red poppies grow

Around the crosses, row on row.

We’ll always have the wars you see,

But Peace has come for you and me.

British and German troops meeting in No man's ...

British and German troops meeting in No man’s land during the unofficial truce (British troops from the Northumberland Hussars, 7th Division, Bridoux-Rouge Banc Sector) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Related articles

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Never Mind Trying to be Nice

23 Dec

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Author, Poet and Artist

I’ve been to parties once or twice,

And I don’t like them, I’ll tell you that,

Except for the time you wore that funny musical hat…

Remember?

And when the wooden wheel with the candles under it scorched from grown-ups playing with fire—

When jellied cranberry didn’t melt in the casserole,

And Stan brought boat flares for the gift exchange and related them to kisses,

And Billy and Christian pinned on the girl’s add-on braids and dangled them over their shoulders,

When the paper-ball battle broke out and everyone was fair game, even the granddads?

 When Rebekah Lyn came over to have a chat and deliver homemade cookies,

And seven relative strangers sat in a cozy den one night and had a real conversation with soft Christmas music in the background,

Donna brought her million dollar brownies to the church dinner

And we met Connie and her college age wonder-son?

 Remember when Alicia told us about learning to play the piano two years after her daughter’s death from aids And you had a quiet tea, in pretty cups, with a dear friend from long ago

How about at the grade school program when baby Jimmy pulled off Santa’s glasses, and pushed him away and Santa said, “I don’t know what you want for Christmas, kid, but you sure don’t want me.” Jimmy’s mom said privately that Santa was too skinny, anyhow.

 No, I don’t have to be nice, but I need to be honest and I guess I must say, I wouldn’t have missed a minute of it.

wreath02 skinny

Tags: , , ,

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →