We Need Healing

Just a word.  Blogspot has changed everything.  I cannot place the pictures.  I will be searching for a new blog website.  If you have a suggestion, please contact me.  

I live in the northwest part of the United States.  We are on fire.  My city has been enveloped in such thick smoke we have been told to stay inside.  Our air quality is considered hazardous.  Day after day goes by without a drop of moisture.  As of four days ago, 4.6 million acres had burned.  

 

That’s a lot of fire. 

 

Even as I write this, my mind turns to the other side of the United States.  Hurricane Sally has produced enormous amounts of rain.  The flood gates of heaven were opened.  Some places received 30” in a matter of hours. 

 

That’s a lot of rain. 

 

Rain is available.  For some reason, the northwest has not been blessed with it.  As I watch the devastation caused by the inferno, my mind turns to other dynamics destroying our country, very clearly caused by humans.  The rioters are intent on demolishing structures, vehicles and statues.  

 

That’s a lot of rage. 

 

Our land needs healing.  Just as the blazes consuming everything in their path need an outpouring of rain, the hearts and minds of our people need the restorative power of God to set us on a new path.  

 

We need healing.  

 

“If my people who are called by my name humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.”  2 Chronicles 7:14 (ESV)

 

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The Air I Breathe

As I sit here at my desk, I can see out the patio door.  At 1:00 pm the air outside is an otherworldly color.  It’s like looking through those yellow sunglasses.  It’s filled with heavy smoke from the many fires burning throughout the west.  Our air quality index says, “Hazardous” and we have been urged to stay inside.  

Basically, we have already been told to stay inside since March, when the virus struck.  And now, in September, we have a double reason to not go outside.  

I’ve never had breathing problems, so considered myself blessed to avoid that type of issue.  However, yesterday I went outside long enough to water my plants…maybe 15-20 minutes.  Instant headache and cough.  When they say, “Stay inside”, they mean it for everyone.  

I can’t imagine what it’s like for those with compromised lungs.    

As I’ve been thinking about the ugly air blanketing my house, my city, my state and several other states, I realize I have no control over that air.  All I can do is establish preventative measures.  

But there is more to life than just the physical breathing we do.  We are also spiritual beings.  Being under a “lockdown” of sorts, gives us plenty of time to consider the source of our spiritual breath.  

God’s air is pure and abundant…and available for everyone.  

“…He Himself gives everyone life and breath…” Acts 17:25 (NLT)

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Power Outage

Everything was fine one minute.  Then suddenly the lights blinked off, the printer made noises and the television went black.  As all that was registering in my brain, the lights came back on.  We had experienced a brief power outage. Of course, it was long enough to make the clocks flash and the computers request a sign-in password.  I traveled from room to room, getting everything up and running again.  

Who knew such a brief interlude of no power could affect so much?  

Once again in the TV room, words bounced around on the screen.  Words I didn’t want to see.  Receiver is re-starting.  And then something about the connection had not been achieved…try again.  Those words were repeated in a cycle.  

That was the start of a very long evening.  

Even though I am a novice when it comes to techie things, I tried to resolve the issue myself.  I Googled.  I followed instructions.  No luck.  I called my guru friend who knows all things techie.  He Googled.   We tried for probably 30 minutes.  No luck.  When the words “Step 1 of Step 2 – This is will take a minute” stayed on the screen for much longer than a minute, we stopped trying.  So, no TV for the night.   

My plans changed.  

The next day I called Customer Service to ask for help.  The pushing of numbers and responding to a robot was not pleasant to say the least.  Finally, I was talking to a real person.  He instructed me to do all the things I had done several times the night before.  Even though I told him that, he had me repeat it.  When the words Completing Step 1 of 2 were displayed on the screen, he said, “Very good”.  I burst that bubble by telling him it had said that for two hours the previous night.  We waited and waited.  Finally, he said, “I need to transfer you to a specialist”, and promptly disconnected me.  That phone call had taken 26 minutes.  

Back to the pushing of numbers and answering robots.  

 

The next guy wanted to start all over again.  I said, “No, we’ve already tried all that.”  He repeatedly put me on hold to try stuff on his end.  After 23 minutes, he said, “You need a new receiver.  I will have one shipped to you.  You will receive it in 3-5 days.”  All of that because the power flicked off and back on.  

Life is just like that. 

One minute you are sailing along and then suddenly your plans are changed.  Sometimes it’s just a bump in the road and you are back on track in no time.  Other times, no matter what you try it just doesn’t fix it.  

But we have Someone we can call who is always available…no pushing buttons or answering robots.  He understands the problem and has the answers.  Sometimes our spirits are calmed, and life continues after a brief talk with Him.  Other times the answer isn’t so simple.  It takes effort on our part to reach a solution.  It may even take longer than 3-5 days.  But the result is always worth it.  

I’ve turned to Him many times.  

“Rejoice in our confident hope.  Be patient in trouble and keep on praying.”  Romans 12:12 (NLT)

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The Diminishing List

From birth until my marriage at age 17, there were two men in my life. 

My brother, Tony, lived with my mother and me until he graduated from high school.  I wrote about him in a blog in February, when he passed away.  We had remained connected to the end…and beyond.  His loss is still very fresh.  

The other man was my brother-in-law, Norman.  He lived in the same Kansas town as me, was married to the only sister I was close to, and I spent a great deal of time in their company.  I called his parents grandma and grandpa.  When I had my tonsils out, Norman was the one who picked me up at the hospital and took me to his parents to convalesce.  And a week later, when I was pronounced healed and could eat anything I wanted, it was Norman who took me for a hamburger and chips. 

In my younger years, occasionally I was allowed to spend the night at my sister’s.  I felt loved there.  We watched Alfred Hitchcock and I Love Lucy.  Not sure mother ever knew that.  TV was forbidden.  Sometimes when they took a vacation, I tagged along with their two daughters.  He worked the late shift, so we would leave Kansas in the very early morning when he got off.  Our goal was to get out of Kansas before it got too hot.  The car had no air conditioning.  Boxes were placed between the front and back seats to make a bed for the three children.  

In high school, I was given driver’s ed using simulators.  When I received my Learner’s Permit, Norman was the one who took me in his car and let me learn to drive the real thing.  One time, after we returned home, I let the very heavy car door close on my finger.  He’s the one who drilled a hole in my nail to relieve the pressure.  He was like the dad I never had.  And when I married, he sang at my wedding.  

Ten years later, when his wife died and my husband left just a few months apart, Norman still lived in Kansas and I lived in Nebraska.  He would drive to my home and do the needed repairs.  I would feed him a home-cooked meal (it was his wife who had taught me to cook) and send him home with cookies.  

 

I received word last night he passed away.  Tears were shed.  

He had been in my thoughts quite a bit recently, since August 4^th was his birthday.  In his 90’s, he succumbed to the virus.  I reflected on his life and how intertwined it had been with mine in those early years.  But life passes quickly.  It has been probably 40 years since I saw him.  That does not lessen the impact he had on my life.  

The list of people left in my birth family is diminishing.  That’s what happens when you’re the baby and you get old.  

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