Tag Archives: Christian bloggers

Our Trip To The UK~Part 11

12 Feb

A Slice of Life

 Bill Lites

Bill

 

As it happened, our B & B hostess in York was a lovely single lady who was a dedicated Julio Iglesias fan, and had followed him all over Europe and the UK.  She had a beautiful Collie dog that followed us everywhere, and if you don’t recognize that guy in the photo, on the hutch in the picture below, I’ll give you a hint, it’s an autographed photo of Julio of course. 

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She directed us to the Pickering & Co. Bookstore on the Shambles, which was at the top of the list of places to see for DiVoran.  Also in the York area, of historical interest to me, was the Jorvik Vikiing Center, which houses many artifacts from the 1100-year-old Viking city of Jorvík.  Well-preserved remains of that city were discovered during excavations between 1976 & 1981.  Many items, from that 900 AD time period, such as workshops, fences, animal pens, privies and wells, were unearthed.  Also found were many items made of durable materials such as pottery, metalwork and bones. Surprisingly, many wood, leather and textiles items, along with plant and animal remains were found that had been preserved in oxygen-deprived wet clay of the region.

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After all that exploring of the York city area, we stopped to rest and have tea at the famous Betty’s Tea Room.  The place was crowded, and a delightful local accountant asked if he could sit at our table with us.  Somehow the subject of street minstrels (Buskers) came up and he informed us that many of them earned very adequate livings, since they didn’t have to report the donations they received for their Busking to the government.

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Next we stopped at the American Air Museum in Britain, of which I had became a founding member.  The museum is part of the Imperial War Museum, and stands as a memorial to the 30,000 American airmen who gave their lives, flying from air bases in the UK, in defense of liberty during the Second World War.  Since we were there, that small annex of the IWM has grown into a huge museum with over 25 airplanes representing all of the conflicts American airman have participated in during WWII to the present day.

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Then we travelled to Hatfield, to visit the birthplace of the de Havilland Aircraft Company, builder of many of Britain’s WWII fighters and bombers.  The Comet Hotel is an Art Deco designed building that was originally built in 1936 as the administration building for Geoffrey de Havilland’s aircraft factory.  The design was intended to reflect de Havilland’s Comet Racer aeroplane design.  At that time, the de Havilland airfield and testing grounds were located just opposite of what is now the hotel.  A statue of the famous Comet Racer G-ACS sits in front of the hotel while the original aeroplane is now housed in The Shuttleworth Collection near Biggleswade.

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From there we took the route around the eastern side of London to the town of Crawley, where we had our B & B base for the last couple of days of our stay in the UK.  Our hosts, Ron & Brenda Potts,  were some of the nicest people you would ever meet, and were very helpful with recommendations for site seeing and directions for the best ways to get around the London area.   They had both been part of the thousands of British children who were sent to the country during the London Blitz in WWII, and stayed there until the war was over.  They had many fascinating stories to tell us about their wartime experiences.

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—–To Be Continued—–

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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.

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The Birds

9 Feb

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

Judy Wills

I’ve not always been fascinated by birds – they just came with the territory, right?  I don’t especially remember any birds in New Mexico that excited me – perhaps the road runner, but not much of that.

Then Fred and I married and moved to Fort Worth, Texas.  All of a sudden, there were birds chirping everywhere, and I had no clue what they were!  They made all kinds of different sounds.  When a friend said they were Mocking Birds, I was astounded.  Wow! I said – we don’t have those in Albuquerque!  Then SHE was astounded!  Judy!  They are everywhere!  Not in New Mexico!!  (They probably are, but what did I know?)

And so, little by little, I began to notice the birds wherever we went/moved.  Some were just birds, some were more interesting.  I noticed the Blue Jays; I noticed the tiny sparrows; I noticed the Robins.  And on and on.

One funny thing I remember is when Fred and I took our first Disney cruise.  The last port of call of the cruise is their private island, Castaway Cay.  We walked along, and, since it was getting to be lunch time, we began to notice the places where we could grab a bite to eat.  What caught our attention, is that someone had packed out a plate of food, but had left it on the table – probably to get themselves something to drink.  That was NOT the thing to do, as the little Finches are so abundant there, and a mass of them had descended upon that plate of food and were devouring it!  It was hilarious for us to see – no so much for the one wanting to eat the food!  Those little yellow birds were everywhere on the island.  Cute little things.

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But I guess the birds that fascinate me the most are the Sandhill Cranes.  To me they are elegant.  They are so stately, and walk with such grace.  They have that beautiful triangle of red on their heads.  And the sound they make!  What a croak that is!  I’ve tried to duplicate it for our grandchildren, but have been unable to do so.  They just had to hear it for themselves.

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We always like to go past a nearby pond in the Spring time, just to see if we can spot a Sandhill Crane family – Mom, Dad, and at least one fuzzball of a baby.  Frequently, we see twin fuzzballs!  Such fun!

When we moved to Florida, DiVoran asked me what we would like for them to give us to help us get “situated.”  I mentioned all the birds we saw there that were unfamiliar to us, so she gave us a bird book.  Once, when we were with Bill and DiVoran, I mentioned that I had learned that cranes fly with their necks and feet/legs straight out from their body – like a crane, while herons fly with their necks crooked and legs tucked.  DiVoran said, “how do you know that?”  I replied, “I learned it from the bird book you gave us!”

Eagles are probably my very favorite bird.  I’m so glad those in charge over-road Benjamin Franklin’s suggestion to make the turkey the American Bird – and chose the eagle.  So much more regal.  Arrogant?  Perhaps.  But to me they just symbolize America.  And to see them soar – and to hear their call – well, what’s not to notice?

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 Isaiah 40:31

but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

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Does He Really Care About Details

8 Feb

Got a story to tell you. It happened not long ago.I was busy putting the finishing touches to a story. Earlier I had facilitated a session on managing stress to colleagues across the country. Still at my computer, I paused when hubby walked into the room and said, “Just to remind you, we need to be leaving in about one and a half hours.”

Ah! I perked up. The black and white gala we were to attend held promises of great food, good company, and a fun time for us.

As I always do, I work until the very last minute. Then, I jump to my feet, hop in the shower, and get ready all in fast motion. But this time, after I washed my hair, I paused and the thought that this was a formal event struck me. My closet is jammed with lots of formal dresses in every color of the rainbow…but, I don’t have a long black one.

Gulp. I just finished giving all kinds of suggestions, guidelines, and hints on how to control and efficiently manage stress. And now my own stress test came to visit.

I took a deep breath, and said, “Lord, I can’t wait to see how you’ll resolve this one. But I just know You will.”

“Honey,” I said to hubby, “In the 32-years of marriage, I’ve never done this. But…I just realized the dress I have ready for tonight is short and I need a long formal.”

I wish I could have seen his expression that accompanied the long pause of silence. “I was going to take a quick nap,” he said, “and get ready. But, no problem,” tenderness marked his words. “Let’s go to the mall; we’ll find you a dress.”

Now, ladies, would you agree that was the ultimate understanding on his part? I sure did. Though I’ve never seen him lose his temper with me, this would have been a justified moment.

“Thanks.” I said sheepishly. I grabbed my make-up (I can put it on in the car to save time). Then wet hair and all we rushed to the car. We had a little over an hour to head to the mall, park, shop, try a dress on, pay for it, rush back, and get ready for our formal event. Crazy, isn’t it?

But my hubby’s disposition remained calm, sweet, and light-hearted. I turned to him, “Honey, thanks for being so understanding.”

He squeezed my hand, “That’s part of my present to you.”

Once in the parking lot, we drove and drove around to find a parking place. The whole world must have decided to shop that afternoon. Finally, he pulls in a spot, we dart out of the car, dash across, and holding on to his hand, we zig zag between cars. Once inside, a loud hum of conversation (shoppers conversing) filled the store. “Let’s go to the petite section,” I blurted.

Dodging people, hubby spots a salesclerk. Once we tell her what we’re looking for, she leads us to the section with long dresses. “Here’s a black one.” She places it in my hand. The size was one bigger than the one I wear. But at that point who cared.

“Do me a favor,” I said leaning toward her voice. “I’m blind. So, would you mind showing me to the fitting room?”

“Sure, come with me.” She loops my hand around her arm and we rush to the fitting room. But we had to stand and wait and wait some more…all the fitting rooms were taken. “I’ll stay with you,” she said.

At this point I was just exploding with gratitude for this one-of-a-kind employee. I asked her name.

“Carmen,” she said.

“Can I tell you that you’re just an angel God sent to me today?” I whispered. She chuckled.

While we waited for the fitting room, I had already made up my mind that no matter how it fit, I was going home with that long black dress. Carmen helped me put it on, and though it felt loose, I shrugged my shoulders. “It fits just fine, I’ll take it.”

“No,” she argued. “Your husband has to approve it.”

“Holding my hand, she led me to where he stood. “Looks fine,” he said.

She helped me back inside. And here’s where I knew God’s hand was taking care of the most minor details. Carmen says, I’ll take the dress, follow me.” She led us directly to the cash register, bypassing the long lines at all seven or eight registers. We paid (it was on sale–half price) in minutes and we were heading home.

Hubby took a brief nap; we got ready and arrived at our event on time. Once in the fancy hotel, we entered the elegant dining room. The cold air-conditioning struck my arms with the same force as a thought: I had so often read, and read again the words David gushed:

“O Lord, You have examined my heart and know everything about me…You know what I am going to say before I even say it. You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit them together in my mother’s womb. You saw me before I was born and scheduled each day of my life” (Psalm 139:1-4 and 13-16).”

He did! He really did from the very beginning form every detail of my very being. And He never stopped, even now, He  knows the intricacies of my thoughts, my apprehension, my silly mistakes, and the moments I fail…but He also knows the solutions for all areas of our life—minor and major ones . And yes, even how to lead us to the right dress to wear and the precise person with a kind heart to help us out.

If you’re facing a moment of sadness, disappointment, though minor for most, but huge for you…He does care, He does see, and He does bring answers.

Give it all to Him. He can not only save lives, move mountains, and calm seas, but also cares about bringing solutions for those minor details that trickle into our day.

His Way

Janet Perez Eckles,

Grateful for the privilege of inspiring you…

My website in English

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My story (video)

Inspirational video  just for you.

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My “Twirp” Date

7 Feb

From the Heart

Louise Gibson

author of Window Wonders

Before you jump to the wrong conclusion,
my date was not a twerp in any way.
The word, rightly interpreted, means
“The Woman Is Requested to Pay”

I had purchased a ’46 Chevy Convertible,
But had to wait ’til my ” BIG Day”-
When “21” my dad drove me to pick up my car-
SO special in every way!

I lived in Akron, Ohio at the time,
February brought snow and ice-
To make matters worse, there are many hills,
Driving conditions are far from nice.

I drove to the fraternity house to pick up my date,
But I insisted he “take the wheel”.
Little did I know that he would do so for
the next 57 years-
that my affection he would steal!

We drove to the “Spanish Inn”.
romantic by candlelight-
We were determined not to let the weather
ruin our special night.

“Thank you, God, for the memories
that remain in my heart-
They are all part of my history-
happenings set apart.”

Louise Car copy

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Chocolate Covered Strawberries

6 Feb

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

I'm a winner

Last Saturday I attended a wonderful party with friends I have know for fourty years. We met when we were all young and members of a young marrieds Sunday School class. We don’t see each other every Sunday now as many of us have moved on to different churches, but some things one doesn’t forget. For instance, my friend Evelyn is a wonderful cook. So when she  gives a cooking tip my ears tend to perk up.

For the party my daughter, Rebekah and I dipped some  peppermint filled chocolate cookies in Girahdelli dark chocolate . They were deee-licious. Evelyn and I were chatting about the cookies when she mentioned that she had recently dipped strawberries for her mah-jongg group. This is when my ears began growing bigger and telling my brain to PAY ATTENTION. You see, I have been a strawberry dipping failure. Evelyn casually mentioned that not only do strawberries have to be dry for the chocolate to cling but they can’t be too cold. Who knew? Well most likely everyone except me.

You won’t believe what happened next. I was in Target scavenging on their mark down end caps and there were four bags of Ghiradelli dark chocolate  melting wafers on clearance. I snagged all four bags. Later that day I shopped at our wonderful fresh produce market and they had beautiful fresh strawberries grown right here if Florida. I took it as a sign that I was to go home and make chocolate dipped strawberries and try out my new knowledge.

My First Successful Strawberries Dipped in Chocolate

My First Successful Strawberries Dipped in Chocolate

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Our Trip To The UK Part~10

5 Feb

 A Slice of Life

By Bill Lites

Bill

 

Then it was up to the Moffatt Woollens Mill at Ladyknowe House, in Moffat, the most northern point of our trip, where I bought a really great Harris Tweed sport jacket and DiVoran bought a beautiful turquoise 100% Argyle sweater and matching pair of knee socks.  We both loved our Scottish items and wear them every chance we get, on those really cold (but very few) occasions we have here in Central Florida.  That is, until DiVoran washed her sweater in hot water and you know the rest of that story.  Boo Hoo! 

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While we were in Moffat, we just had to visit the home of Dorothy Emily Stevenson, DiVoran’s favorite author.  And yes, Robert Louis Stevenson was her grandfather’s brother.  It seems that D. E. Stevenson, who was born in Edinburgh, Scotland spent many years of her life with her husband James Peploe, in Glasgow, until Glasgow was bombed, in the early 1940s.  it was then that she and James moved to Moffat.  Like DiVoran, Stevenson had started writing when she was very young, but because of family duties, and WWII, didn’t start publishing her novels until later in her life.

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Not long after leaving Moffat, we saw the Scottish West Highland train moving across the famous Glenfinnan Viaduct, and what a sight that was!  Located at the top of Loch Shiel in the West Highlands of Scotland, crossing over the viaduct offers train travelers spectacular views down Lochaber’s Loch Shiel.  The view from the road wasn’t bad either.

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We had planned to travel North all the way to Inverness, Scotland but a huge Atlantic storm moved in from the West, and we decided instead to head back down the Eastern side of England.  This took us thru Newcastle and Durham, to our next stop in the city of York, as we tried to outrun the storm.  One of the things I learned on this trip was that a cup of hot tea will take the chill off of those cold windy English days.  And, one of the most popular teas used by our hosts in most of the B & Bs was called “Ty-Phoo Tea” brand English Blend, and I learned to drink it English style, with milk and sugar.  Of course, DiVoran already knew all this, having been the hot tea drinker in our family for years.

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The city of York is bounded on the North by the North Yorkshire Moors and on the West by the Yorkshire Dales, which is “Harriot Country” made famous by author, James Harriot (James Alfred Wight), who lived and wrote of his veterinary practice in the countryside around the town of Thirsk.   Also in this area is the famous Robin Hood Bay, dating back to medieval times.  A 15th century English ballad and legend tells a story of Robin Hood and his band of merry men encountering French pirates who had come to pillage the fisherman’s boats along the northeast English coast.  After a brief skirmish, the pirates surrendered to Robin Hood, and he returned the loot to the poor people in the fishing village that is now called Robin Hood’s Bay.

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We were told that a “must see” in York was the York Minster Cathedral of circa 1100, and they were right.  There is evidence that there has been a church of one type or another in this location since 627 AD.  The present cathedral now sits on the ruins of structures from at least three major time periods, and their structural differences can be seen.   There is Norman style 1070-1154, English Gothic style 1230-1472 and Perpendicular Gothic style 1730-1880.  Under Elizabeth I, there was a concerted effort to remove all traces of Roman Catholicism from the cathedral, and it became the seat of the Archbishop of York, the second-highest office of the Church of England.   It is an absolutely magnificent cruciform shaped edifice.  The outside is beautiful, but the interior is indescribably spectacular!  There isn’t room in this blog for all the beautiful pictures of the Cathedral, but you can Google the “York Minster Cathedral” and see it all for yourself.

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—–To Be Continued—–

 

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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

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Daddy

2 Feb

SUNDAY MEMORIES

 Judy Wills

Judy Wills

My Daddy was quite a guy.  As I’ve said before, he was born in 1892, and was 20 years older than my Mother.  But he was a good Daddy, and really was a “Daddy” rather than a stiff “Father.”  I was, occasionally, exasperated with him in my teenage years – I guess as all teenagers are with their parents – but loved him dearly.  He died when I was 25 and pregnant with my first child.  I always regretted that neither of our children got to know their grandpa, and I miss him still.

 

But he could be really funny.  I remember that, when Mother was working in accounting at Kirtland AFB in Albuquerque, she would quite often invite some of the single, lonely, homesick airmen to church with us on Sundays, then to our house for Sunday dinner.  Around the table, one of Daddy’s favorite things to tell these guys was that he was from a large family.  He would state that there were eight boys, and each of them had five sisters.  Then he would pose the question: “How many of us children were there in the family?”  You could almost see the steam coming out of their ears as the wheels turned as they computed the numbers.  While most got the joke within a reasonable time, I remember one young man staring at Daddy, eyes bulging out, and said “58?!!”  Then Daddy would howl with delight and inform them that all eight boys had the SAME five sisters!  There were only 13 children in the family.

Since Daddy was older when he and Mom married (45), they started their family rather quickly.  When my brother was born, Daddy was so proud that he sent off a telegram to his parents.  Mom told me that his dad sent back a nice, long, newsy letter about everything going on in Louisiana.  Then he ended the letter with:  “Son, we are happy to hear about the birth of your son.  But you must realize – it just RAINS grandchildren down here.”  Mom said Daddy’s balloon just deflated at that!

 

T.J. & Mattie Lites with 10 of their children. Daddy is back row, 4th from left

T.J. & Mattie Lites with 10 of their children.
Daddy is back row, 4th from left

Being the farm boy that he was, he loved to finish the meal with a slice or two of a tomato, rather than dessert.  He loved the desserts, as well, but….

He had some “sayings” that we always enjoyed.  Well, enjoyed MOST of the time.

  •    The traffic will eventually all run by (sometime eventually took longer than others – and Fred always said, “well, Daddy was right again”
  •    This roast is just no good – it just falls off the bone!
  •      As you know, breakfast (lunch/dinner) is one of my three main meals of the dayGranny, Aunt Jessie, Daddy - in his p.j.'s - Mom, Dora Bowers, DiVoran Lites - 1961          Granny, Aunt Jessie, Daddy – in his p.j.’s – Mom, Dora Bowers, DiVoran Lites – 1961 

Once, when Fred and I were visiting Albuquerque, Fred had gone out driving with Daddy.  That evening, Fred related this story of the day, but could hardly get it out for all his giggling.  They were driving along – Fred driving – and Daddy cleared his throat, turned his head, and spit.  Unfortunately, he had forgotten that the window was still closed!  Fred said Daddy cleaned off the window then turned his head back to Fred and sheepishly said, “that’s only the second time in my life I’ve done that.”  Fred said he had to “bite his tongue” to keep from laughing out loud!

Bill Lites in Albuquerque, NM

Bill Lites in Albuquerque, NM

It’s such fun to remember my Daddy.  But the best part is knowing that some day I will be reunited with him and won’t ever have to leave him again.

Bill Lites in the stocks - Williamsburg, VA

Bill Lites in the stocks – Williamsburg, VA

Bill Lites with daughter, Judy Wills, and granddaughter, Charlene Lites

Bill Lites with daughter, Judy Wills, and granddaughter, Charlene Lites

                    

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His Way, My Way

1 Feb

Sometimes I just have to disagree.

I received a newsletter that made my head shake. The theme was one most people find logical, accepted, and even embraced with fervor.

Does the title, “I Did It My Way” ring a bell?

Yep, it’s Ol’ Blue Eyes’ song that my friend mentions in his newsletter. The lyrics and Frank’s melodic voice stir hearts and sparks “Oooh’s and ahhh’s.”

Not me, though. I like his singing. But the message in this song roils in me. Let me tell you why. I tried doing it my way– letting my inner strength drive me forth, my dreams plunge me forward, and even attempted to let my abilities and skills open doors. This tactic works, quite well, I might add. Until, without warning, your world crumbles and pain filters like venom. Then your solutions are elusive and dark times threaten to suffocate you.

I’ve been there. And found when those times strike, reality flashes like lightening. Then my efforts show their true colors–, my feeble ways, my limited wisdom, and my weak efforts to change my circumstance accomplish nothing.

But before you knock me off my soap box, one more point: those who sing, “Do it your way” haven’t rolled in the mud of despair, or been stuck in the trenches of desperation. Some still insist, “Do it your way,”

God says,

 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8).

Father, I confess I need you to keep me focused on your ways, your timing and your ability to accomplish what I cannot. I relish in knowing that it’s your power that is at work in me. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

  • What have you been following lately?
  • How will you change your ways?
  • How free do you feel when you let God have His way?

His Way

Janet Perez Eckles,

Grateful for the privilege of inspiring you…

My website in English

En Español

My story (video)

Inspirational video  just for you.

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