Letting Go

Here are just some quotes I found recently about "letting go," that I clipped over onto my blog several days ago.  They were helpful to me, and I am sharing them on my blog. 

 ...We create a huge amount of suffering if we are
attached to things staying the same, we realize that
relaxing and letting go is a wiser way to live.  Letting
go does not mean not caring about things.  It means
caring about them in a flexible and wise way." -- Jack Kornfield

"Periods of change are full of paradoxes.  They're difficult but exciting,
frightening but freeing.  Letting go of old patterns that
no longer work for us is exhilarating."

                                  "To let go means to give up coercing, resisting, or struggling,
                            in exchange for something more powerful and wholesome which
                                 comes out of allowing things to be as they are without getting
                                    caught up in your attraction to or rejection of them, in the
                                      intrinsic stickiness of wanting, of liking and disliking."

"Letting go doesn't mean that you don't care about someone anymore.
It's just realizing that the only person you really have control over is yourself."
 Deborah Reber  Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul

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      "Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get.  Life should be

                                                              touched, not strangled. " 

I loved that, "Life should be touched, not strangled."

Unexpected Blessing!

Yesterday we had an unexpected blessing. 

Kenn and his oldest two children, our friends Justin Stanton and Steve, and Jon and Ryan McVey were getting a load of firewood for our dear friends the Frenches for their winter supply. 

The chain saw they had along had a dull chain and things were going slowly, so some of the guys ended up having to come to our place to pick up chain saws, gas, oil, another axe and splitting maul.

We ladies threw a few things together for a quick lunch for them--leftover borsch, rye rolls, toasted cheese sandwiches and cookies I'd just brought back from the store.

(I hardly ever buy cookies, but I couldn't resist these cranberry raisin oatmeal cookies marked down yesterday.) 

Ryan stayed to play with Danny outside while the guys added Sam to their crew and hurried back to Black Forest.

Kenn and children had arrived there and cut a bunch of trees down already

at the property of someone who was clearing out all these trees burned in the terrible fire two years ago. 

This spot is just about a tenth of a mile from where that awful forest fire started.

Below Sam is sawing the logs into small chunks.

Jonathan and the rest of our family stayed behind a while to clean up the kitchen, do the dishes, 

and finish wrapping and freezing the goat meat we had been freezing that morning.

 

We had to put a problem goat into the freezer, but the meat looked wonderful.

 Then we all drove to Black Forest to help, too.

It was so refreshing to be out in the cold, fresh air, working together to help a need.

The guys kept teasing one another if they missed the log while splitting, or couldn't get it split the first time.

But in a very few hours, we had the whole dump trailer full of sawed and split wood all ready for Frenches to stuff into their little wood heater this winter. 

I had sat for a while in the van helping Crystal over the phone with getting started on a literary analysis of a short story for English Comp I. 

Then I had joined the girls and children picking up the split wood and stacking it in the trailer.

It was a welcome break from being cooped up in the house all week with one sick child after another--

and the oven suddenly popping, smoking and quitting on us, leaving Jonathan scratching his head.

How good of the Lord to provide through our neighbor who had just been clearing about 300 sets of appliances from apartment complexes that a new owner was refurbishing. 

Whole sets of used appliances were being sold for $300 a set. 

Jonathan was able to get a glass top stove for us for just $100 that very next day. 

And Sam helped to get it connected and working.

I encourage Jonathan to not just do things himself of this sort, but to teach the boys to do everything.

"You just tell them what to do, but make them do it," I say to him. 

"We want our boys to grow up knowing how to do as many things as possible, and they won't learn unless someone teaches them."

That way they will be useful, they can take care of their own wives and families without always asking someone else to do it, and they will have something to do besides watch videos and play X-boxes, computer games, and all the latest time-wasters.

And so in the middle of a busy, snowy, and sickness-filled week, we were blessed to lay aside part of an afternoon to get out in the fresh air and do something to lift someone else's load.

The Frenches are so deserving.
He had this stroke, and it's a blessing to bless them.
Steve was able to dump the trailer in their driveway without their knowing it!

 Hopefully some youngsters can get together to help pile it all for them.

Time for a Tune-up

Our family has been practicing a Thanksgiving song to sing next Sunday, 

but my autoharp was sounding awful.

It needed to be tuned.

It is a very nice autoharp.

Jonathan reminded me last night that it was his Christmas gift to me the first Christmas after we were married. 

For 21 years it has served us well, although we did have to change out the set of key felts one time.

And it needs tuning at least a couple times a year. 

It also needs to be dusted with a brush.

It gathers a lot of dust and particles from the wearing down of the felt picks that I use. 

It's not anything wrong that I do that produce the dust and particles.
It's just the use of the felt picks on the strings.

And sometimes it's just life as we live it that produces dust and dirt and discord and distractions. 

I don't enjoy the tuning process because my ear is not that great for tuning perfectly. 

I can tell if something is out of tune, but it is difficult for me to know exactly where the right tone is as I gently tighten or loosen the strings.

Carrie helped me this week by using mallets to hit keys on my vibraharp while I tuned the strings on the autoharp.

We worked and worked, failing and succeeding string by string and then chord by chord, 

and finally got it tuned to where it was acceptable to our poor ears, at least.

And pretty much everybody can tell when we're out of tune, too.And it isn't easy to get the perfect adjustment made that will satisfy our ears or our hearts
without going to extremes and going way off tune in another direction.
Only a few people, like Sis. Lefever, have perfect pitch.
The rest of us just sort of have to hobble along and do our best.
And we do need periodic tuning--and pruning.

Sometimes it's cutting back on the criticism, and sometimes it is accepting criticism cheerfully--
because that is what God uses to prune us.

Sometimes it is cutting back on the number of negative opinions we feel it is necessary to offer to others and about others, and sometimes it is about learning to open our mouth with wisdom and the principles of God's Word instead of trying to manipulate a situation by running other people down.

It's about cutting back on the time we waste with selfish or unproductive pursuits, yet taking time for genuine relaxation and loving relationship with those we love.

Cutting back on the negativity and making room for joy.

Cutting back on the comparisons we do between ourselves and others. 

Women are exceptional about comparing themselves to other mothers, wives, teachers, singers,

musicians, and writers. 

They compare personalities, productivities, how many hours we work for money and how many hours we work before we get to sleep at night.

We compare how we like to do our holidays and how we decorate and how we keep house.

And especially how we raise and educate our kids.

But men have their comparison games, too.

They compare how much money they make; how many vehicles, trucks, trailers, 4-wheelers, and RV's they have or don't have; how many accidents and tickets they've gotten; how many bucks they've shot and how many antlers are on the wall;  how much over the speed limit they dared to speed down the road one time; how many problems they have and how good a beard or sideburns or hairy chest they can grow.

Kids are great at comparing, too. 

How much icecream or how many grapes kid sister gets compared to brother, how many jobs Mom makes big brother do compared to little brother, and who can draw the best turkey for Thanksgiving.

All these comparison games can really get us out of tune--fast. 

They clutter up our lives like stupid orange water balloons stuck into a nice hanging plant. 

There's a lot of garbage that really needs to be pruned and trimmed out of our lives

just like we trim out the dead, dry, brown mess we find in our viola plant. 

The plants were such a brown, cluttered mess that I almost threw them out.

 

It's a good thing God doesn't throw us away when we periodically become a bit of a mess.

He sees the potential hidden under the dry brown clutter.

He sees the hidden seeds of potential in the pod--and He doesn't want to destroy it.

So instead of throwing us away, he just prunes away, cuts away, trims away.

And all of a sudden, you can actually see the lovely blossoms still hiding there even after all the cold weather and the cold shoulders and the cold stares, and even after whoever forgot to water it enough

and whoever forgot to pour a little encouragement and support and love and kindness when needed.

"Always seek out the seed of triumph in every adversity." Og Mandino (whoever he is) wrote. (just for Facebook, I'm sure).
And when God trims away the clutter and hindrances from our lives, He is always careful to preserve the seeds of potential, and the seeds of triumph from every adversity.

All things work together for good, and when the tuning and pruning is over,

He will yet sing over us with joy.

God will save the seeds to plant in future situations to grow and produce an effective, abundant harvest,

and our newly tuned hearts and spirits will join in the song of love,

and rejoice in Him for all His goodness and grace to us.

Learning to Lose In Order to Recover

One day someone dropped a sunflower seed.

Or maybe a bird lost it.

And out of the pile of dirt in which it landed grew this incredible sunflower that Jonathan found one day as he was at work. He took a picture of it for me. 

He said he figured I could use it on my blog!

Somebody had to lose something in this pile of dirt in order to gain this sunflower, heavy with seeds.

And every one of these pumpkins that Jonathan picked up at Walmart for 1 cent apiece were       once a seed lost in a pile of dirt.

And maybe you feel like you've been lost in a pile of dirt.
Maybe you've lost in a disagreement; maybe you've lost credibility;
maybe you've lost financially.
maybe you feel like your reputation is lost with some people in a pile of dirt from someone's smear campaign.
Maybe you just feel lost and confused.

I read something the other day that could be a glimmer of light at the end of your long tunnel.

It said,

         "Learn to lose in order to recover."

 "Learn to lose."

You don't have to win all the time.

 Losing doesn't necessarily mean you were wrong.
Maybe you were, but maybe you weren't.
Maybe you missed a good ball--but maybe the pitcher made a poor pitch.

Maybe you were wrong in some things, but right in others.
Only perfectionists have to be right all the time.
The rest of us just have to be humble. 

The rest of us just have to overcome when we lose.

We have to overcome evil with good.

You just have to grow up out of the dirt and head toward the sunshine again and bloom
and bear fruit.  

"Learn to lose in order to recover," that quote said.
"and remember
                                           that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain."  

Maybe we think we have to win in a situation in order to recover from it.
Maybe we think we have to come out on top.

The other person has to agree,
or apologize
or understand
or start approving of us.
In other words, we have to be right and they have to be wrong.
Yay! We win!

Well, what if they don't???
What if they are sure it is we who were wrong and they were right and don't you ever forget it?
What if we can't stop hurting?

"Learn to lose in order to recover."  

It's amazing how the broken, the simple, and the scorned can teach us lessons,

even as this rooster with the broken leg taught us that even 

 brokenness can turn into a gift for others.

This rooster got stepped on and he just plain had to accept that he had lost in the situation.
He had to accept that truth in order to recover.
He could have kept fighting and strutting around like usual, but his leg wouldn't have healed.
He had to stop and rest and accept reality
and heal.
The young chicks find this otherwise rather cocky rooster a wonderful father to provide security and to cuddle up to!

A dear Indian brother in Christ from Gospel to Asia once wrote,
"It is better to be humble than to be right."

                     Learn to lose in order to recover.  It is better to be humble than to be right.

                                   *************************************************

The Very Hairs of Your Head Are All Numbered--And Measured, Too!

Danny got the inspiration a couple evenings ago to measure the length of his dad's hair.

I'm not sure where he got the idea.

 But it reminded his mom that hair cuts were due that night!

Jesus said that the very hairs of our heads are all numbered,

                             and surely they  are measured, too.

                                                                             

The whole purpose of Christ letting us know that God knows the number of the hairs of our heads was to remind us that He cares for us and values us.
He wants us to trust Him.
He sees when a sparrow falls to the ground, and He saw when Rachel Cutler, ICHA missionary in South Africa, along with the sister-in-law of HIM's national leader in Lesotho, died in that vehicle accident yesterday there in South Africa.
She was the young missionary for whom Jonathan and a Mission Helps crew built a little house in Lesotho a few years ago.

He knows and cares when one after another of our church fellowship go to be with Jesus.
Last Sunday morning, at 2 a.m., it was Don Toncray.

Don, around 60 years ago, had been born with brain damage due to the cord wrapped around his neck, and was the only surviving member of his family. Different ones of our church family have been involved in his care in recent years since his mother died.

His simple prayer requests, offered in a long, struggling drawl, often brought smiles and sometimes tears to our eyes.

He would sometimes ask us to sing "Jesus Loves Me," or "Happy Birthday" in memory of his deceased mother's birthday. And we church people obliged.

I'm glad we did, because the day before he died, God Himself stepped low and revealed Himself to this simple man.

Don told his caregiver Saturday that he had seen Jesus, and Jesus had told him He was coming again.

Jesus did come the next morning at 2:00 a.m., to take Don home.

But the simple little testimony Don left was that he had seen Jesus.

And if God values a simple-minded man like that enough to step in and show Himself to Him, shouldn't we value him, too?

And then there were the Lord's tender mercies accompanying the death of another acquaintance just a few weeks ago, an elderly man who had moved nearby here from Kansas. He used to write for the Sunday School quarterlies.

His wife had been struggling with Alzheimers, and he had just been diagnosed with a fast-growing cancer only a couple weeks earlier.

Unable to understand much, his wife who was being cared for outside the home, seemed to sense that she needed to tell her husband goodbye, and her daughter helped her to get to her husband.

It was so precious how the Lord granted her the clarity to understand that her husband was about to go and she needed to say goodbye. She kissed her husband and told him goodbye and sang with the others gathered around.

"God understands our prayers even when we can't find the words to say them," this plaque says.

Twice this happened, and perhaps it was the release Bro. Crooks needed, for his spirit took wing.

All of us who heard this precious story

were amazed at the sweet kindnesses of the Lord in our times of sorrow.

And so, our hairs are numbered, and our days measured.

And our heavenly Father watches over us.