Got Ou-ees?

A band-aid is a fix-all for almost any child's hurt. I always looked forward to having grandchildren. My plans being to keep a various assortment of band-aids on hand to soothe any "ou-ees." There would be various types for various hurts in various colors, sizes and shapes - ones displaying animals, birds, cartoon characters and who knows what else. I felt that band-aid dispensing was a requirement of "Nana-hood". Oh what fun! Me, gladly heeding each grandchild's request for an adhesive strip stuck here or there; in fact, a whole box, stuck everywhere, if they'd like.

I would then visualize their parent's reaction when picking them up from Nana & Papa’s - a ribbon of "hurt helpers" running up or down an arm or leg, or maybe both. Best of all, I wouldn't have to remove the sticky marks left behind after the band-aid was removed - that would be their mother’s job (i.e., mothers know how to remove anything with a little rubbing and scrubbing until the skin is medium rare - right?).

Amazing the comfort band-aids are for a child’s hurt. As adults, many of our hurts cannot be taken care of so easily. I have often asked the Lord, how many "ou-ees" are required in a lifetime? Hurts that can’t be fixed by applying an adhesive strip - deep wounds with the potential to leave tremendous scars. The psalmist David wrote, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous . . . " What kinds of afflictions was he talking about? Afflictions to the mind, the heart, the soul, and the spirit.

Maybe you have an "ou-ee" that isn’t healing - its open sore is daily causing you pain. Well, the Great Physician is available. He makes house calls (day or night), charges no fee, and has never had a malpractice suit. And, believe me, His assortment of band-aids is far beyond any we could ever imagine.

Hold On

Ever have a day when you feel like you’re barely hanging on? Well, why not take a deep breath, say a simple heart-felt prayer and hold on to what really matters. Before you know it, your footing will be firm once again.

Trust me - I just had a dangling spell and thought I would surely fall, but He came on the scene just in time. He always does.

Hold On - To His Word

Hold On - To His Truth

Hold On - To His Promises

Hold On - To Him

Signs of Our Time

Although, the sign displays only two words, “Keep Right” - it caught my eye while visiting Portland’s Rose Garden a few months ago. Its message speaks volumes and gave me food for thought.

Just think how important it is, as Christians, to follow the signs that the Lord sets before us. The Signs of Our Time are sometimes blaring ones, and sometimes non-obtrusive. However, every day He offers a multitude of "Signs" to guide our lives. A lot of times they are the ones we see everyday and take for granted.

As for me, I plan to heed His messages - and most importantly, Keep Right.

The Lighthouse that Guides

While living in the Bay Area, there was a small lighthouse just about a half-mile up the coast from us - both it and our house were cradled along the shores of Seal Cove. Every night the lighthouse's beam would dance across the waters directing vessels along their course or giving warning to those etching too close to shore.

Our lives are like the sea, either turbulent or peaceful. Oft times we drift along in life's circumstances and are unaware that we are moving too close to possible danger. I am so thankful that God's Lighthouse warns us before we shipwreck and offers us a course of safety. How wonderful is His guiding light that brings assurance and serenity to our very being.

Thank You Lord

Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks for the blessings bestowed upon us. Thank you Lord for giving me such precious grandchildren. Each provides such an abundance of love in their own unique ways. What wonderful blessings!

Zoe Claire....................Madison & Cassidy..................Preston

Happy "Thanks" "Giving"

Thanksgiving is not only a time of Pilgrims and Indians but of Family and Friends. This week may we enjoy the many blessings that have so graciously been bestowed upon us. Thank you Lord for giving me a wonderful family and great friends.

To all, Happy "THANKS" "GIVING".

Wash Day

Washing clothes doesn’t have the same meaning it used to. Nowadays, we just whip clothes into the washer, place laundry agents into designated slots, press buttons, and poof! The load is off and running. When through, just a flip puts the laundry into the dryer.

Not so magical when I was a girl. We had a Maytag wringer washing machine that danced all over the back porch (thanks to its powerful agitator - a major selling point). After the clothes were beaten to death, the next step was the wringer, which required taking the clothes out of the (usually) very hot water, and then doing the wringer thing so to place the clothes in a tub of bluing (blue liquid mixed with water to brighten clothes). Next you’d stir the clothes around in the bluing, and then take them back through the wringer until dry enough to put in a clothes basket (wood-weave, not plastic). Sometimes more than the clothes got wrung - on occasion, it was a sleeve of what you were wearing or a hand. Yes, a Hand. In panic mode, you hit the wringer release and pull whatever was caught out. What an ordeal!

Clothes were dried naturally (i.e., held by wooden clothes pins on wire lines stretched between two posts). The Results: Sheets were stiff (but smelled fresh). Towels were rough (imagine drying your wet body with one). Colored clothes faded in no time (unless turned inside out when put on line). And unmentionables waved in the breeze, exposed for the world to see. Wash Day took the greatest part of a day because laundry was done once a week - usually Monday.

Washing clothes parallels our lives as Christians - to be spiritually clean may mean pressing our buttons, or putting us through the wringer. After all, we never know when we will be hung out for the whole world to see.

Wash Day 1945 - by Grandma Moses

Endangered Landmarks

By now I am sure most of you are aware of the major oil spill in the San Francisco Bay. It has caused great concern - and endangered many landmarks and thousands of species of wildlife. Now along the coast south of San Francisco, thick oil globules have hit the shoreline at the town of Montara, thus raising concerns for the Fitzgerald State Reserve at Moss Beach (only a mile or so down the road). I know Moss Beach well having lived on the cliff above the southern tip of the Reserve. Daily I was blessed to observe the various birds and sea lions - and on occasion walk the Reserve's beach, looking into the tide pools filled with little creatures. What will happen to all this beauty and God's little creatures? It became food for thought: What else may be in danger? With pen and paper came expressions of concern.

Preserve all that is threatened is the cry of the land,
Protect the endangered from the destruction of man.
Numerous species in jeopardy in this hour and day,
Confirming that we have not always guarded the way.

Sharing and caring no longer seeming a part of our life,
Self-fulfillment replacing goodness, then embittered by strife.
Measures of stewardship all but diminishing from sight,
Sadly confirming no sincere concern to spread the Gospel light.

Many incapable of emitting genuine love for mankind,
Substituting hatred and jealousy, alas to charity blind.
Earnest supplications but silenced, altars seemly bare,
Prayer vanishing as if caught in some other care.

But one of the greatest endangerments is God’s Holy Word,
Once passed through generations, now to some found absurd.
With landmarks near extinction, please consider the cost,
Without preservation, life’s greatest resources are all but lost.

Let us guard the resources we have as Christians, and keep them from becoming endangered species. Preservation is a must!

Lord, May I Have A Flour Sack Walk

The Flour Sack poem brought back memories as a little girl in late 1940s. Most of you are way too young to remember flour (or feed) sacks. My dad would use the feed for the chickens, my mother would wash the sacks, cut out a dress, and sew it up. She made aprons too. The plain white sacks would be hemmed into dish towels with my grandmother embroidering them into the days of the week. I remember wearing many a "sack" dress. No one considered it embarrassing back then - it was a way of life. Have we come a long way? Yes, we have but sometimes I am not so sure it is for the best (my personal opinion). We've lost the "wonder" of innocence, of loyalty, of faith, and the list goes on and on (but I'll hush).

THE FLOUR SACK by Colleen B. Hubert

In that long ago time when things were saved,
When roads were graveled and barrels were staved,
When worn-out clothing was used as rags,
And there were no plastic wrap or bags,
And the well and the pump were way out back,
A versatile item, was the flour sack.

Pillsbury’s Best, Mother’s and Gold Medal, too
Stamped their names proudly in purple and blue.
The strings sewn on top were pulled and kept;
The flour emptied and spills were swept.
The bag was folded and stored in a sack
That durable, practical flour sack.

The sack could be filled with feathers and down,
For a pillow, or would make a nice sleeping gown.
It could carry a book and be a school bag,
Or become a mail sack slung over a nag.
It made a very convenient pack,
That adaptable, cotton flour sack.

Bleached and sewn, it was dutifully worn
As bibs, diapers, or kerchief adorned.
It was made into skirts, blouses and slips.
And mom braided rugs from one hundred strips
She made ruffled curtains for the house or shack,
From that humble but treasured flour sack.

As a strainer for milk or apple juice,
To wave men in, it was a very good use,
As a sling for a sprained wrist or a break,
To help mother roll up a jelly cake,
As a window shade or to stuff a crack,
We used a sturdy, common flour sack.

As dish towels, embroidered or not,
They covered up dough, helped pass pans so hot,
Tied up dishes for neighbors in need,
And for men out in the field to carry seed,
They dried our dishes from pan, not rack
That absorbent handy flour sack.

We polished and cleaned stove and table,
Scoured and scrubbed from cellar to gable,
We dusted the bureau and oak bed post,
Made costumes for October (a scary ghost)
And a parachute for a cat named Jack.
From that lowly, useful old flour sack.

So now my friends, when they ask you
As curious youngsters often do,
“Before plastic wrap, Elmer’s Glue
And paper towels, What did you do?”
Tell them loudly and with pride don’t lack,
“Grandmother had that wonderful flour sack.”

Please Lord, let my walk with You be as versatile, as durable, as adaptable, and as useful as a flour sack.

Girls in picture whose dresses have floral patterns were made from flour (or feed) sacks.

Colors were bright and cheery as seen in the patches.

Our Unsung Heroes

GOD BLESS
THE MEN & WOMEN OF THE MILITARY
PAST & PRESENT

Thank you for protecting our freedom to worship
and freedom of speech.

We are forever grateful.

Madison, the Birthday Diva

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Madison Kaitlin Hopper
Granddaughter Extra’ordinaire

Have a wonderful fun-filled day, and throughout the year an abundance of blessings. You are so special! LOVE YOU, Nana

On Second Thought - Thank You

I, the customer became the victim this week. Yes, I was treated like a second-rate citizen. It happened when I bought and paid for $75.38 worth of goodies at a (will not name) Mart.

Here’s the scoop: I zapped my WaMu card, did a quick ID pen, and just like magic the bank cleared payment. Alas, the blessings and curses of the plastic card. The clerk (associate or so frequently called, the manager in training) hastily “threw” my items in plastic bags. Then she shoved my receipt into my hand and flopped my bags to the end of the counter. I “faked” a half-way smile, she frowned - AND IT WAS RIGHT THERE THAT SOMETHING AROSE IN ME AND I HAD HAD ENOUGH. This type of treatment had been happening too often. Just where are they getting their help? But before I could utter a word to inform her of her shortcomings, a thought raced across my mind like a giant marquee, Do Unto Others as you would have them do unto you. Oh no, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I wanted to be ugly. Please Lord, let me be ugly (verbally that is - don’t touch my body - it has enough problems).

However, I couldn’t argue with the Boss of Bosses so I sheepishly smiled at the clerk, and said Thank You, have a nice day. I thought to myself, am I missing something here?. I am the customer, she is the employee. This scenario is all wrong. Wham, it hit me, all wrong to whom, me or God? Come to think of it, would it really hurt me to say Thank You? Well, I guess not.

You know, when someone is rude, the words "Thank You" can make all the difference in one’s day. It changed my frame of mind, and I hope it did hers. When I got home it brought to mind a poem I penned years ago (guess I've had problems with this same thing before - Sorry God).

Thank you is a small simple phrase
But to the receiver it's an expression of praise

Its utterance can make a bleak day bright
Allowing thoughtfulness to burst into sight.

Saying I appreciate all you have done
Will link hearts to diligently work together as one

Lifting the soul above a customary routine
In the words “thank you”, there is true happiness to glean.

THANK YOU for visiting with me. HAVE A NICE DAY. (See God, I'm getting the message).

Merry Meds Do Wonders

"A merry heart doeth good like medicine. . ." Prov 17:22

Sometimes fears, anxieties, or worries affect the way we feel. What’s the cure? Go for a walk noting nature's beauty, have lunch with a special friend, spend time laughing with your children, or (do whatever will make you happy).

Remember Merry Meds do wonders for the aches and pains in the soul.

Friends

Guess you are wondering why I picked a picture of two little pigs rutting in the mud to capture my thought. Look closely at the little oinkers. Why they’re as happy as can be; making the best of their circumstances. See the smiles on their faces? Now that’s friendship. (Appease me please and pretend you see them smiling or my blog is to no avail).

Lately my mind (what’s left of it) has been fixed on friends (i.e., tall ones, short ones, fluffy ones, thin ones, high volume ones, quiet ones, beautiful ones and stating it politically correct, facially challenged ones). Seriously, my friends are all beautiful. True friends always are. Here’s a poem I wrote that I want to share with them today.

My friend knows when to knock at the door
Bringing words of comfort making my spirit soar.

My friend knows when to send a note to uplift
Penning a message of more value than any costly gift.

My friend knows when to offer words that inspire
Speaking truths that allow me to escape from life’s mire.

My friend knows when to petition with genuine weeping
Requesting special care for my soul’s safe keeping.

My friend is known as special, one who is always there
Having such a friend gives me a jewel divinely rare.

THANK YOU TO ALL MY DEAR FRIENDS for always being there for me. I LOVE YOU. You fill my life with valuable substance and reinforce the scripture, “a friend loveth at all times . . .” Proverbs 17:17.

Life is FRAGILE

Always Take Thought That

YOUR LIFE IS

What's In A Name?

(Well, here I go. Brand new blogger at age 68. See, miracles never cease. This endeavor has made me so excited? nervous? that I don't know whether to laugh, cry or throw up. Seriously, I am grateful to have opportunity to be a "voice". Only hope you will allow me share it with you occasionally.)

Why did I pick the name A Jewel Divinely Rare? To me, it depicts the nature of a woman. Proverbs 31 makes mention of the various abilities and talents of a virtuous woman and how her "price is far above rubies". This blog was created for special women - special on more than Mother's Day or any holiday. And to strengthen our beliefs and share our passions because we are women. (I'm sorry, men are welcome too.)

We are jewels - please don't forget that. A jewel divinely rare has patience until all hope is exhausted, then continues hoping beyond all hope. It protects without suffocating, and rebukes without destroying. A jewel divinely rare gives without expecting. It finds peace in its strength, and it truly forgives.

A jewel divinely rare cries, laughs, works, prays, and plays. By God's grace may you and I be one of these special divinely appointed jewels.

(Now that wasn't so hard - if I can quit shaking I'll be just fine. Hope you come back soon because at my age, when it comes to thoughts, my cup runneth over.)