Beyond the Blog.

Omar Khayyam  writes; “The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on……”

That says it, for us, as we move (hopefully, onward… and not, for the moment, upward).. …. As we look for new things to serve the pursuits and purposes in life.

The last 13 years in blogging, primarily Christian content, has been the most important time in my life for strengthening  my belief and witness. This is with thanks to my relationships within (and beyond) my family. .. And, most importantly, the Holy Spirit; the ultimate source for all of our inspiration, affirmation and dedications.

Fortunately, God equips us all with abilities beyond our imagination, and provides us a vehicle to power us though every phase of our lives.

My next phase is managing to be the 90 year old elder on the the block. At this stage, one might be expected to be wiser, and potentially an able writer of the book ;” Living with Grace and Style”. I can lay claim to neither. God will surely have to edit that title for me.

At the appropriate time, you also will have to decide as to the name of your book, and He will author yours as well… which is a way of saying He writes and titles the book.

I pray that, regardless  of who  names any of our works, that they will all tell a story of one who never gave up on trying to serve God; one who engages in continuing pursuit to determine just how that will happen.

Having done that, we then recognize that God has already figured that out…  He calls us to just put down our pen and listen to His voice that reminds; ” What was it I said from day one? “Honor thy Father”.  When you move on……always seek that direction.

Then listen, the Holy Spirit will always say; “Follow Me”

And, we must respond to that former part of our lives; ” Sorry,  I have to hang up. I love you, but I just got another call. God bless, See you later”.

Thank you all for reading our past works.

Milt Wear….travelstomanhood.blog

 

 

I’M JUST SAYIN’

Some sayings  go;

Life is;

Like a taxi…the meter keeps ticking, moving or standing still.

Like a bar of soap ….smells good but very slippery

Like a bowl of Cherries….don’t take it serious

Like a box of chocolates….you never know what you’re gonna get.

Like a grindstone,,, it will either polish or grind us.

The simple implication is that it can be a good or bad surprise.; delight or degradation. We all know that there is stuff we cannot predict or control, and it is a good thing that much of it is out of our hands….. And into what we might call destiny. Perhaps because we find ourselves often pretty short sighted.

All of us can count the many times, to our dismay, that our dreams have been frustrated, but so often are vindicated over time.

My list is, if I may share it, goes like this;

Almost dating the prettiest girl in school at 15.

Falling short of being a trumpet virtuoso (from day one)

Nearly becoming  a Naval Officer at 20.

A potential member of the FBI (truly) at 22.

A successful small business owner at 50 (not even close).

And, last; the Greatest Living Poet, Writer, and Artist  at 89 . (I should live so long)

While there were even more starts and stops, they were all resolved in the understanding that never did I have the last word on my life choices. God always did, and still does. We are the living breathing recipient of His Grace and Wisdom.

Probably one of the shallowest assumptions of all is found the this song;”Life is just a bowl of cherries. Don’t take it serious, It’s too mysterious. You work, you save, You worry so. But you can’t take it with you when you go go go.”

I subscribe to the mystery part of “it”…. but what is it we can’t take with us?

I’m thinking;  foremost, the love of God and His eternal provision!  But I still wonder about that “Box of Chocolates” thing …….. I still love the mystery of it all…. should He provide.

What’s next? Sky diving?

 

 

 

 

 

 

DON’T WAIT FOR THE MIRACLE

 

YOU JUST HAD ONE !

There is a story that tells of a most “religious” man who was stranded on a rooftop when a tremendous flood hit his town. In time, a rescue boat came to  rescue him. He flags them off saying; “Don’t worry about me . I believe in God….. and He will save me.”

As the water continues to rise, he climbs to the roof and once again a boat comes. He recites the same response; “He will save me”. When the water had risen to the very top of the house, the man climbed to the top pf the chimney, and a buzzing helicopter throws a rope down to him only to find the same response; “Faith will save him”. They buzz off.

He was, at last, swept away and drowns: His last words; “Help me, Father!”

He arrives in heaven and implores of God; “I was your faithful servant , worshiping you, loving and trusting you; Yet you did not save me when I called. Why Lord, why?”

God looks up at the man with a puzzled expression and says” “That’s odd, I was sure that I had sent you two boats and a helicopter!”

Why, for some of us, does God’s grace have to be miraculous or in the form of OUR choosing? Does He have to wait until our back is against the wall until there are few, if any, options to step in and rescue us? Can we earn our deliverance by huge displays of dedication when there are options made available for us that are less dramatic but still serve to “save the day”?

We may well have to stay tuned to even the small opportunities, perhaps not recognizable at that time, to witness God’s early warnings or interventions, against forces that could remove us from this world, or leave us with scars beyond repair.

If we are so busy in our foolish and vain efforts to demonstrate our courage and conviction that God will intervene, we may well have missed the boat (literally) as our poor misdirected friend did. We have also missed the point God loves a listener, not a fool. He does not need a demo of our every dedication. He knows your plight and the strength of your personal acts and promises.

As the Word has it; “Answer a fool according to his folly; or he will be wise in his own eyes”.     Proverbs; 26/4

 

 

GOD’S PLAN FOR AGELESSNESS

The old Dutch Proverb concludes:” We get too old soon, too late smart. I may have quoted it a time or two when I was younger, and with a smile. I no longer subscribe to that idea (if I ever really did) and I don’t regard it as a clever assessment.

I would hope that one would not have to wait until their “last days” to find the truth of old age.

If we have lived our lives with regret and recrimination for not having done something or call for a “do over” in our lives, surrendering to the shoulda-coulda syndrome, we have missed the  point of God’s plan for us.

That is; to get old, not as a regrettable circumstance, but one of His many predictions. And, that gaining wisdom must be an never ending process that calls for periodic stupidity, and readjustment. There are no target dates or scores common to any of us. It is a marathon for one.

What I can say in my near- nineties is that I have gotten old at just the right time, as my body is now beginning to attest. And, I am smarter than I planned on being, simply because God’s plan was always bigger than mine.

The smart part, I think, is that I have learned to narrow down my focus to those things that I believe please God, and to dismiss those things that have a negative bearing on our everlasting relationship. My heart is not troubled with “should haves”.

I have increased my expectations for all those things that He has promised, and the Spirit vested in me is a constant reminder that I can do all things He had planned for me…that I am not just the custodian of His gifts, but ever on the threshold of using them in ways I could have never fully imagined.

I am living in great peace within God’s appointed time for me, and feasting upon His boundless wisdom…not upon my own understanding.

being GOD is a full time job

Today one might write about the journey to outer space or the center of the earth, or for that matter, about any of the man- made miracles that occupy much of mankind’s interests today.

Let me depart from all of that action and wonder to speak of  the small, tender works of God  that receives way less attention. They slip right by us.

The Word declares : ” He knows when a swallow falls to the ground.”

This story supports that fact that nowhere does He draw the line.

Here’s the story: On an early Saturday morning I was crossing the bridge over the creek near our home.

A continuous sound of the “caw” of crows sounded off the surface of the water.

Several ducks who were paddling about in the slow moving water looked about nervously toward the source of all the noise; several big black crows, knowing that they were talking about dinner.

And the sound of that dinner came from  up in the nearby tree  in the form of peep…peep….peep  Again and again. Each time more desperate than before. It then sounded  softer  as I moved about; then I found the source. As I approached, a crow made a dive for a small fuzzy object as it moved onto the branch that held the nest.

A flurry of quacks came from the creek as the crow left his perch on high . I moved forward thinking to intervene, but the duckling fell from the branch, tiny wings flailing away; only to land with a bounce 10 feet away. Shucks!

That was it.. I was there to give a testimony; not as a protector. God had orchestrated  the whole thing. Dazed, but apparently not damaged, he stumbled to where his mother was quacking away in the soft shadows of the water. It was an apparent reminder, likely translated; “See what happens when you don’t stay close to me!”

We can call this a happy accident or a little fulfillment of God’s larger plan.

Would he have done the same thing for. the crow if he fell into a pile of rose thorns? Certainly. But in his infinite wisdom He would stop the bleeding, and give him a pat on the bottom. And, as a Father, advise him to pick on someone his own size.

And as for me; He would suggest…… ” You tell a fair story, but try to be a bit quicker on your feet……you have dominion you know!”

 

 

 

 

GIDDY UP

Pity the man with only one horse to ride

Who wakes each morning with the same old chores

Of feeding and grooming the same old mare.

Perhaps it’s the tired look of her

That makes me think;

I’ll leave her to graze in the field for a time,

And drag out the leathers that I stowed away

During those early days of training

I’ve had my eyes on that little grey Filly there

Prancing about in expectation

Of a trip far away from that old dusty barn

I’ll take her to field never imagined

And the fresh green grass.

We’ve not seen the last of our home,

and it’s familiar feed

We shall return again after we have stood

In that illusive stream of delicious water

And filled our bellies with sun drenched hay

Beyond our best experience……….

HUMILITY ability……

“I pray that I should die”,  Al said at dinner.

He was a newcomer at the Senior Living Residence were we lived for 1 1/2 years. People often moved there because of physical problems; they had no nursing care, but plenty of social activity and services for the basically ambulatory.

Al was a serious Catholic with some heart problems that called for regular oxygen intake. His ego (he says) did not permit him to bring oxygen into the meals. He made the long trek to the elevator and struggled, breathing hard, down the hall to the dining room. His exit was even tougher, because of the effort to carry on conversations at the table. When he left ; he was out of there, breathing like he had just swum the channel.

I have tried to understand the nature and focus of his exchange at the table. He was an attorney for many years. This suggests why he might appear a bit more confrontational, posing  questions to which he knew the answers. I reasoned that it was to determine the level of a persons intellect as soon as possible. Then he would indulge in a sort of demo of himself by quoting poetry, other recitations, and a travelogue of his extensive travels. It was not that he wasn’t personable, but rather, pretentious. and a lot of work to keep up with.

I  noted that his voluntary dining partners would move away frequently. In fact, I also needed a breather from time to time.

I’m sure that, in some ways, he is like many of us. We “are” what we were, what we have done, and where we have lived. There is a kind of tedium that results from that kind of qualification. We can soften things by inquiry into other peoples background, but too often the demo is done and people have made a negative judgement.

In Al’s case, he may have been just composing a kind of mental obituary. He must have just surrendered all to eternity in all of this recitation.  His recall and response was impeccable.

As for me, if you want my best answer for anything; secure it before 3:00 in the afternoon.

Other than that; (cast not the first stone)…. I will try hard to be humble (a huge task in it’s self).

I will leave it to others  to write my obituary…. but, they are just going to have to wait ’til “my cows come home” to deliver it.

Ask another old person what that means  Don’t ask  Al……….. He didn’t care to wait!