Change

 When I was 11, I woke up one morning and realized that I was too old to play with dolls anymore. This was just prior to the first Barbie doll being introduced so the epiphany probably came at a good time otherwise I might have hung on a bit longer. My collection of plastic actors that performed great stories from my imagination were all small dolls of one kind or another including one Madam Alexander doll that is likely worth a bundle now.

But, given the way I am constructed, once I see an end to something, I do not drag it out, I finish and move on. So, I carefully packed my beloved assorted dolls into an old shoe box and, as a way to punctuate my decision, I walked next door, rang the bell and handed my childhood over to our neighbors' five year old daughter. 

Done and done. 

In keeping with my usual way to process great change, I sat in my swing in our backyard and pondered my next step. I knew it was an ending but also a beginning, though I didn't know for what.

To give my imagination a chance to adjust to not having dolls to act out my epic dramas I switched to writing stories on notebook paper. I could not bring myself to give them titles, because that would be too presumptuous of me, as though I thought I was an author or something. Sometimes I would make sketches in the margins of characters I envisioned in my compositions. When I was done I folded the paper and stuffed it in the bottom drawer of the vanity, deep under my socks. It wasn't long before I progressed to writing poetry and eventually a journal called 'Shadows Speaking' ....ohhhh....so deep.

In reflective moments I wish I could read those early efforts. Then in keeping with my done-is-done attitude, I conclude the keeping of the memory as an ideal is usually better than the reality. 

As I have aged out I have passed through many such phases. Always determined that just because I have reached a clear reason to end a thing does not signal the end, but rather just announces a closure that allows for a new door to be passed through. 

As my eyesight wanes due to glaucoma, I have been looking ahead and wondering what is next that I might still be able to do. But first I can't help but revel in all the things I have done only because God inspired me to keep looking/moving forward, even as I have had to let go of things that were destined to pass. As I simmer gently in reflection seasoned with gratitude, I can't think of a single thing to complain about.

I've always marched to a different drum beat and therefore I, more often than not, never quite fit into the mainstream or a collective. When I have tried to write about what it's like to be an 'older' only someone who is old, like I, could possibly understand. When I read blogs or commentary of those who are fifteen to twenty years behind me, I don't know how to say, 'been there done that' without sounding like a boring know-it-all. 

One thing I have sworn to not be is an old lady who only wants to talk about her past.

However, I do wish I could share what change does to one so that I could also mentor how to keep believing that stepping through the next door is always the end of something but the beginning to something else. 

If you step out in faith, God will either make a step or give you wings.  

Been there done that.

For Him,

Meema

And Now A Word From Our Sponsor

 

I've often referred to this time in history as being a redo of the movie The Matrix, where everything is just illusion - life imitating art.

Lately, though, I think it feels more and more like being stuck in a fly-by-night roving carnival. Everything in the center looks lit up, exciting and colorful, even as everything behind the scenes is dismal and all too real.

The carnies bark their persuasions to "Come win a prize!" to the passersby even as they know the odds are definitely against those who are willing to give up their money to try to get a bullseye in a moving target or land a ring around a stick. They all know it's just a game. 

Here in carnie world, there is no topic or news so serious, even life altering, that cannot be interrupted by a commercial or a plea for funding. Example: the serious talking head reports a horrific school shooting, then the same voice shifts to a lighter tone to talk about a new product that will make your life so much easier.

Online sites offer information then either interrupt with a pop up window to ask you to subscribe to the site. "If you appreciate this work, donate today!" "We cannot keep doing this important mission without your help!" "My work is completely sponsor supported!"  

For me, the worst of the worst, are those who have turned Christianity into a lucrative business. Crazy me, somehow I do not think that is what Christ had in mind when He told the wealthy man to give up all he owned and follow Him.  Matthew 19:16-30

I have a lifelong memory from my youth of being with my mother as she ironed my father's dress shirts. I was occupied drawing, as I usually did, and she was listening to a broadcast on the radio. It was a preacher she liked, Brother Lester Roloff, who seemed to be a good man, at least in his down to earth preaching and missions.

On that day, however, he spent the entire 30 minutes weeping and begging for donations. He pleaded that he would be taken off the air if he did not raise a specific amount of money. 

As the sermon ended, without looking up I said, "If he preached about Jesus he wouldn't have to beg for money."  

After a long pause, I felt a sensation that my mother had stopped ironing so I glanced up to see her stunned expression looking down at me. Then she said, almost under her breath, "Out of the mouths of babes." I had no idea what that meant, at the time. 

Of course, as I grew up and read the words in Scripture, the moment was etched in my memory as it all came together. I think it established a boundary for me. Whenever I see humans, declaring themselves to be champions and bearers of the Gospel, even as they pause their mission to sell their products, books, CDs and art, as they amass great wealth in the process, I have to wonder what Jesus thinks. 

So, what brought all this to mind? 

I receive emails, multiple times a day, from all sorts of people whose words and thoughts I am interested in. Some are political, some are religious, most are doing what they do as their livelihoods. I guess I get that they solicit me for donations, on average, sometimes more than they give me information. Like all other citizens of the Matrix and visitor to the carnival, I find I am immune to the common phrases used to entice me to give up some of my money, which is a big tell in and of itself.

Recently I read a lengthy report recalling multiple miracles of Divine Intervention in an American Native Reservation due to the fervent prayers of several simple women. Fires, tornadoes out of nowhere, lightening strikes, all destroying properties of drug cartels, thus answering their prayers for God to “Command the works of the enemy to be destroyed.”

At the end of the collection of stories, the author concluded with  his plea for support of his ministry. Apparently they were $40,000 short of their 'goal'.

Talk about a buzz kill.

I could not help but recall that day I said a few words that struck my mother so profoundly, that caused her to see a tough truth as well as plant in me the seeds of critical discernment.

I wondered if the man who wrote the article about all those inexplicable miracles had not thought to get those women to pray for funding as well, would he have needed to beg for money from strangers?

I know that God wants His own to participate, to step up and be willing to put even our lives on the line for Him, but where is the line drawn between praying for His intervention, support and protection and turning the mission into a profitable business?

Since I cannot answer that, I can only ask that God guide me to to know the difference between His missions and man's missions. 

For Him,

Meema

Handbasket Meet Hell

 Two unrelated but somehow scarily correlated images came up yesterday. One looked like a replay of a 1938 celebration of the Third Reich. The other confirmed that the war with dark principalities is no longer a vague spiritual concept.

Though I don't wish to be a Debbie Downer, but I have to warn anyone with eyes to see and ears to hear we have reached a critical point where evil isn't hiding in the shadows anymore. Whereas evil adores itself and cannot resist hiding in plain sight with cryptic symbolism,  it seems a door has opened enough to allow the dark imagery and smarmy messaging of minions of satan to gleefully announce their agenda.

How many ways and times can I say, the day does come? Evil has officially risen to a peak of desperate all out push to overcome and erase God's creation. And, I might add, for the record, God is allowing it, for His purpose. 

Seems to me that time has speeded up too - for the elect's sake? I always wondered what that meant - now I think I know - it means what was a slow sneaky slide is now an unstoppable all out rush to completion. 

So, seems like the day has also come to choose whom you will serve. 

For Him,

Meema

Disney goes full out satanism. Watch the trailer but also be sure to watch the second clip to see the performers revel in the chance to give paganism a place at the table. 

https://citizenfreepress.com/breaking/disney-embraces-satan-in-new-show-little-demon/

Even so, come Lord Jesus.