Hearten Soul

Waking the Writer's Muse

2011-02-04T16:42:00.000-08:00

Do you remember trying to start a car that had sat for weeks? I can remember needing to pop the hood and pour a little gas in the carburetor to get the engine to turn over. Sometimes I had to have the spark plugs cleaned and sometimes things were needed that even I couldn't fix. But, eventually, the car would start and the ordeal would be in the past.

In retrospect I see my past year of writing in much the same light. When I lost my job I had to jump right back into writing; the one talent which I had not lost from the stroke. Or so I thought.

Everyone in the audience has been wonderful to live through the sputtering sporadic start. Thank you.

I believe that I have finally awakened the writing muse that has laid rather dormant (like an old jalopy in the barn) for a few decades. The purring engine has been producing a piece every day for the past month - just not on any of my blogs. I've been writing a fairy tale to motivate people to vote for my photo in a photo contest.

I think that creating the anticipation has been the best part of writing this story. The limitation of 700 characters each day was a struggle sometimes. And incorporating the photo in every episode was a challenge. Creating anticipation was the hardest part. I am overwhelmed that so many have stuck with me for almost a month to discover who is Chosen. It makes me wonder if the same anticipation can be created in a children's book format.

I am assured by many readers that I should "go for it". I can sense that I am ready. This was today's episode. There are five more to write before the contest ends:

The Princess gazed across the palace pond. Her eyes followed the path to recent memories of solitude and sanctity sought upon the bridge above the bayou. The parlor windows began to distort Penelope's view of the garden. She returned her attention to the frogs. She spoke first to Festus. "I recognize you. You are Festus, the guardian of my dreams." Festus responded with the humble bowing of his head. "She remembers." His thoughts remained silent. The Princess spoke again. "And you are Ferdinand, the keeper of my fantasies and innocence?" Ferdinand nodded humbly. Responding to a swell of emotion deep in her heart, Penelope stretched forth her hand to lift a frog to her lips.

Please join us for the final chapters! If you'd like to read the beginning of the story, please click here: ~~Chosen - A Fractured Fairy Tale~~

Brickfish Went Out of Business before a winner was selected.

Watch for "Chosen - A Fractured Fairy Tale" on Smashwords soon!

Sharin' for Sharon

2011-02-02T21:22:00.000-08:00

A favorite writer and 'online friend' of mine just published an article about me. ME? Yup, about me.

What is surprising is that Michelle Devon (the author) and I have never met. Yet she has gone to great lengths to plead for the help of others, especially fellow writers, in my behalf.

The thing is, in this life, we have the chance to make choices that affect other people’s lives in so many ways–both positive and negative, kind and hurtful–and perhaps the most horrible way possible, the apathetic. When we stop caring, we lose what makes us human.

(Michelle Devon)

See the rest of what she said here:

Sharing for Sharon

Living the Writer's Dream

Michelle Devon

My Favorite Photo (I've Ever Taken) 3
Brickfish

Chosen - A Fractured Fairy Tale

2011-02-02T12:08:00.000-08:00

We've been taking a walk through childhood and places of fantasy and romance. Join us? Brickfish Social Media: Chosen

My Favorite Photo (I've Ever Taken) 3
Brickfish

Bound and Rebound

2011-01-15T20:34:00.000-08:00

I saw a video, by Pixar, that I have never been able to get out of my mind. It is appropriate to what is happening in my world right now.

The movie short was called Boundin'

I can't embed a copy of the video - copyright laws and that stuff. But I've never been able to get the lyrics out of my head. Maybe you can catch a little of the magic just by reading them:

Now sometimes you’re up and sometimes you’re down,

When you find that you’re down well just look around:

You still got a body, good legs and fine feet,

Get your head in the right place and hey, you’re complete!

“Now as for the dancin’, you can do more,

You can reach great heights, in fact you can soar.

You just get a leg up and ya slap it on down,

And you’ll find you’re up in what’s called a bound.

Bound, bound, and rebound.

Bound and you’re up right next to the sky,

And I think you can do it if you give it a try,

First get a leg up, slap it on down…”

Get your head in the right place and hey, you're complete!

We've hit upon tough financial times and are finding it necessary to move to where the cost of living is much, much lower. That would be 2,000 miles away. It is a wonderful opportunity and one for which I am extremely grateful. But, I have to find the money to make the move. That's pretty difficult when I'm still unemployed and not able to cover the day to day bills and expenses.

But - I am creative and I can rebound! I've entered a photo contest and the prize is almost all the money we need to move.

Hmmm. Fancy that. To entice my readers to vote every day, I have been unfolding a fractured fairy tale. I am allowed 700 characters to describe the photo and I change that "description" every day with a new episode. It's a great opportunity to exercise my creative writing ability.

See for yourself! Leave a review and let me know what you think! If you need a daily reminder to vote, send me your request via email (see my Blogger Profile) and I'll add your addy - gladly!

Chosen - A Fractured Fairy Tale
Vote Daily

Whose Birthday Is It Anyway?

2010-12-09T08:23:00.000-08:00

I heard the retelling of a significant story while I was at a meeting last night. I will try to do it justice here.

The woman tells a story of a wonderful family event that occurred this past year. Her father turned 80 years old and the family gathered to celebrate.

My grandfather was also honored in similar fashion many years ago. I was unable to attend, being so many miles away. But I was included in the planning and outpouring of love.

It is wonderful to honor the life and contribution of people we love late in their lives. But I digress. Let's return to the story being told at the meeting last night.

The teller of the tale then asked the audience to imagine the preparations for her Grandfather's birthday. It was shaping up to be quite a celebration.

She spoke of the preparations and the planning, the assignments and the purchasing, the scrubbing, the cleaning and the polishing. The flurry and the frenzy of frantic activity continued for weeks.

And then, the big day came. All was ready. The decorations were spectacular. Incredible smells from an elaborate feast wafted from the kitchen.

The guests poured through the doors and the gifts piled higher and higher at the front of the room. What an incredible celebration!

But then, the teller of the tale added a twist. She paused, looking slowly around the faces in the room and asked . . .

What if the guests began to pass the gifts around amongst themselves?

What if they brought presents for everyone except Grandfather?

And, what if Grandfather wasn't even in the room?

What if no one remembered to invite him?

What if everyone had lost sight of him?

Christmas commemorates Christ's birth.

Has He received His invitation to your celebration?

Have you decided on your gift for Him?

Life, Lemons and Giving Thanks

2010-11-20T10:37:00.000-08:00

I would suppose that you've heard the phrase, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade".

I would rather say, "When life gives you lemons, give thanks."

The Lord is doing a mighty work with my life. When I received a layoff notice last February, I was frightened out of my wits. It took a few days to recover my sensibilities. And then, after allowing myself to suffer, I chose to thank God.

Silly me, at first I thought that He had forsaken me. But I know that I know better.

I know that all things work for the good of those who believe in Him. Call it finding the silver lining, call it mixed blessings, call it making lemonade from lemons - it all means the same. God is orchestrating the events of life so that each individual is afforded their greatest chance for happiness.

The individual is me. The individual is you. God is in control and He desires our individual happiness. Not at the expense of others or in spite of others. Moreover, God is able to provide the best route to happiness for each individual. To think otherwise would be to deny that our God is a loving god. It would also mean denying the scope, power and ability of God.

Ponder the idea: God wants me to be happy. The world and all that happens within it is designed to bring me pure joy. Why then do I revolt against the growing pains? Why do I cry out in terror or anger? Why am I so ungrateful when I am chastised or tried?

When I have been grateful for the trials and tribulations of life in the past year, I have been abundantly blessed. God's love is immeasurable and incomprehensible. Remember the poem "Footprints in the Sand" poem by Mary Stevenson? I can retrace my past footprints and see how He has strengthened me, carried me and blessed me.

I have spent only a few moments browsing the postings and messages in my archives for the year. I am so humbled by the vision afforded in hindsight.

Before Thanksgiving, I highly recommend that you do the same. I challenge you to look back and trace your own footprints of this past year. Browse the emails you've sent and received, the year of activity on your Facebook wall or the archived messages. Review the year in whatever tangible way is available to you. This year has been God's gift for you. Turn around for a moment, retrace your steps and unwrap your gift.

As I write this I could not help but think of the dozens and dozens of people who have shared their lives with me this year. I have been so blessed by your efforts. There have been hundreds of people who have come into my life - many have stayed to enrich my days. You have given me opportunities I would never have had in the workplace; chances to give and receive, to love and to laugh, to falter, to achieve.

I could not have done any of it without you.

You have been the hands, the heart, and the soothing whispers of God in my life this year. I wish for you a season of gratitude and joy!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Life, Lemons and Giving Thanks

Search Amazon.com for Footprints in the Sand

Absence Makes the Heart Grow

2010-11-14T19:55:00.000-08:00

I must apologize for my absence. I did not intend to let this blog languish this long. Now that I have, I must explain.

I am participating in NaNoWriMo - writing a novel in one month.

My novel is based on the incredibly awesome love story of my husband and me. Some of our story has been shared on my other blog and in articles I published in 2006 and 2007 on Associated Content.

From "pickup line" to our wedding day took 64 days. Its a terrific story!

I have never documented the complete course of events until now for good reason.

This is NOT easy.

I've been writing since November 1st and have only reached the day after our first date!

This is when "the good stuff" begins!

Now, with that being said, I must explain why I've had to make our story fiction. My husband is a stroke survivor with aphasia and memory issues. I have to invent most of his "back story". My personal "back story" could use some fabricating also (to protect the innocent).

In the end, I hope to have the book available for purchase sometime next year.

In the meantime, I appreciate your patience until the end of the month. I'll post as I can break free and most assuredly, I will post for Thanksgiving.

In the meantime, wish me well. I would like to share a recent "blog post" (Note) that I posted this weekend on Facebook. I think it will give some of my readers pause to consider:

Praise and Thanksgiving

My Life Is Richly Blessed

2010-10-29T17:50:00.000-07:00

In my other spare moment
I design greeting cards
for husbands.

Today I designed greeting cards
for husbands
for Thanksgiving.

I've noticed
that there is nothing
about the cards I created today
that indicate they be given
to husbands.

So, I guess I designed cards
for special people today.

Here's one that I like especially well:

INSIDE: My life is richly blessed because of you.

but this one is my mother's favorite:

INSIDE: You bring variety into my life. I thank God for I will never be bored.

But my favorite one is this:

INSIDE: Our home is richly blessed by your sense of humor.

I hope these brought a smile to your face!

I must admit I'm grateful
that I was laid off from my job
and forced to start a home business.

I am grateful for
God's blessings and inspiration -
for a creativity that comes
from outside myself.

My life is richly blessed.

Ah, Delicious Autumn

2010-10-26T15:27:00.000-07:00

The challenge to share our gratitude with one another continues.

"Delicious autumn!

My very soul is wedded to it,

and if I were a bird

I would fly about the earth

seeking the successive autumns.

(George Eliot)

Ah, Delicious Autumn

Today I am grateful for the bounty of autumn.

I am grateful for all that autumn represents
and the joy that it portends.

Much like human life,
the year has reached its fullness,
its ripeness,
its harvest,
its final days
before its symbolic death of winter.

And many will feast
upon the bounty
that the Lord has given,
in joyful thanks giving.

Hearts will be touched,
magnanimity enlarged,
suffering assuaged,
for a moment
for many.

I am grateful for
Christian souls
who of themselves,
in gratitude,
become the serving hands
and the warm embrace
of God.

I am grateful for impending holidays.
For blatant
observance,
commercial and bold,
bedecked and
dazzling in world-wide,
bold declaration
of God's
existence
and His hand
in the lives of men.

I am grateful for a season
that is difficult to avoid,
impossible to escape,
and not easy to subdue.

I am grateful for this season
of this universal declaration
of the reality
of God;
whether believed, denied or forgotten -
or declared from pulpit or pew -
mankind comes face to face
with the birth of His Son.

I am grateful that
In the coming weeks
Christ's birth, His life, His death
cannot be ignored.
By sheer number
and volume,
His followers
will declare The Truth
and the lost
will see
for they cannot avoid.

By pageantry of lights,
trees and tinsel,
bells and candles,
the believers will tell the world
of the Redeemer of Israel
and The Gift of His life.

Never mind that not all will believe.
All will hear and
face the truth
yet again.
Another chance to choose
or deny
before the final winter
when all is still and quiet
at last.

I thank God for the Light of Christ
alight in every human heart.
An ember,
a flicker,
a flame
or ablaze
to light
the next step
in our way
back to Him.

I thank God
for all that He provides -
For the possibility,
for the opportunity,
for the invitation,
for every lost soul
to come Home to Him.

I am grateful for God's patience.

I am grateful for Christmas.

I am grateful for Christ.

I am grateful.

Thank God for Icky Stuff

2010-10-25T08:37:00.000-07:00

Connect to Meme

The challenge, issued by Branch of Wisdom, is to spend one month counting blessings.

This was to begin yesterday, the 24th of October, and will end on "Thanksgiving Eve", the 24th of November. Participants are challenged to write Thanksgiving posts at least 15 times during that period.

This is my first post for this challenge and it is a doozy!

I take a big breath and let it out slowly before beginning this task because I challenge you to read with an open mind and willing heart.

I was introduced to a new form of thanks giving a few years ago. In a nutshell, I was challenged to give thanks and praise God for the trials in my life.

That's right.

I was challenged to thank God for the blessing of trials, struggles, grief, pain, difficulties, or "the icky stuff".

The teaching behind this challenge comes from a book by Merlin Carothers entitled "From Prison to Praise". For a complete understanding of the power in praising God in times of distress, I highly recommend the reading of it.

To summarize, the teachings can be found throughout the scriptures, but these two verses anchor my courage to obey:

"In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." (1st Thessalonians 5:18)

"All things work together for good to them that love the Lord." (Romans 8:28)

Once I understood that everything in that passage means everything, without exception, will work for my good, I was encouraged to test it in real life. (For ease of communicating, I dubbed that whole category of trials, difficulties, struggles, and pain as "icky stuff".)

In my daily prayers I began incorporating praise and thanksgiving for "icky stuff". I would even precede any thanksgiving for blessings with praise for the "icky stuff".

Recognize though, there really wasn't much in the way of "icky stuff" in my life at that point. I had just been hired at the job of my dreams and much of the distress of the preceding years was evaporating.

And then . . .

Shortly thereafter I suffered a severe stroke and found myself laying in the ICU unit scared for my very existence. But, once having realized my predicament and trusting God to handle the caregiving duties for my husband (a stroke survivor himself), I began to praise Him for the stroke.

My thanksgiving was tentative at first, of course. This new way of reacting to trauma was the extreme opposite of my natural reaction.

It has now been three years since that first tough test of praising God in all things - even the stroke - and I can barely skim the surface in detailing the power and blessings that came from those prayers.

An ailing family relationship was healed,
My husband's self-confidence was increased,
I experienced the healing power of prayers on my behalf,
I discovered - for my own self - the peace that passeth all understanding,
After 20 years without medical attention, I returned to regular doctor visits,
I obtained profound insight to my husband's struggles after his debilitating stroke,
I was enrolled in a "stroke study" and received free medications,
I discovered how tenacious I can be,
and more and more to fill volumes.

What I found most exhilarating was the immediacy of the results. Within minutes of praising God I could feel a strength return to my body, to my mind, and to my soul. I was lifted up and able to laugh and to delight in the experience.

Seriously. I delighted in the experience. I know that it was baffling to those around me.

I am afraid that I may have confused the stroke survivor in the bed beside mine. She never was able to sit up or speak while I was there. We never communicated. But I have prayed that my example gave her courage.

I remained in the hospital for one week including a couple of stays in the ICU due to set-backs in my condition. I was released on a Sunday late morning or early afternoon. My right side was weak and unresponsive to simple duties. I remember that it was awkward - difficult, even - to do simple things like going to the toilet, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, washing or styling my hair, dressing myself (oh my, I had forgotten), opening drawers, cooking, washing dishes, . . . it is a longer list than I had remembered. I returned to work the following Monday.

With tears streaming down my face (even now) I lift my eyes to heaven and I thank my God for the tremendous blessings He has given me. I am grateful for His Love and devotion to the details in my life. I know that He has orchestrated the most finite of events in this universe to provide the best outcome for me - for ME. I KNOW that "all things do work together for good".

My stroke was three years ago this week.

And I Praise God for it!

"What is the best comfort in suffering and pain?

It is that a man should take all things

as if he had wished for them and prayed for them.

For you would have indeed have wished for them

if you had known that all things happen

because of, with, and in God’s will."

LUCIUS ANNAEUS SENECA (C. 4 B.C.–A.D. 65)

For more information on my stroke or my husband's, please visit "Your Husband's Deepest Desire".

May My Soul Be Turned to Pray

2010-10-22T09:11:00.000-07:00

My purpose is to hearten souls. I must admit that the gift of heartening or encouraging souls comes from only One Source. My soul is heartened through constant secret prayer.

When I struggle to close out the world and focus in my prayers, one song will begin to play in the far recesses of my mind until I get in tune. Today I discovered the song in a bluegrass rendition. I connect with bluegrass. This works for me!

Secret Prayer from The Lower Lights on Vimeo.

I was singing along with that song (I just love the bluegrass sound) when I remembered that I had uploaded my husband's testimony of prayer, recorded shortly after we married. It is a humble, honest testimony of the power of prayer from a man robbed of language by a stroke. He emphasizes the most important step in effective prayer.

Today I am challenged to petition and to listen. Today I am reminded to pray.

Three Strokes

2010-10-21T08:12:00.000-07:00

I am a stroke survivor

married to a stroke survivor

and

owner of a canine stroke survivor.

Yup, three strokes.

One house.

Seriously.

You can laugh now.

We do.

My husband's stroke resulted in Aphasia.
Aphasia affects the processing of language (speech, reading and writing)
making it difficult for my husband to communicate.

But, we communicate just fine - like most couples, most of the time.

Communication

If words were all we had
How little we could say.
Your eyes they speak, your hands
a touch, a tear, a glance my way.

If words were all we had
How empty time could be.
A warm embrace, a brush
of cheek, a kiss, a sigh for me.

If words were all we had
How lonely space would be.
A rush, a wind, a clasp
of hand, a squeeze, a dance with me.

If words were all we had
Sad parted we would be.
A prayer, a soul, as two
in one, all ways, all time with thee.

I am dedicating this poem today to
Carl McIntyre and his wife, Elizabeth
as they continue to discover communication after stroke.
See a little of Carl's amazing aphasia story here.

broken writers, artists, women and men... spill crumbs below... in a communion of the imperfect.

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Water and Waking

2010-10-20T08:25:00.000-07:00

I am a morning person. I like to wake before sunrise and appreciate the details of the world waking.

That has not been easy to do as I've aged.

I've been "testing" a new wake-up regimen for about one month. It begins about one hour before my scheduled time to get "up and at 'em", when "natural forces" wake me for an urgent trip to the bathroom. You too? When was the last time you praised God for a functioning bladder?

When I've completed that mission I drink about 10 to 20 ounces of water - room temperature - and wash down my morning medicines.

Then I go back to my yummy bed, pull up the covers and doze off again.

That's it. Just 10 to 20 ounces of water added to my routine.

As I pass in and out of dreamy half-consciousness, my body comes alive again.

Let me tell you, at my age, the sensation of every limb waking refreshed is a wonderful feeling. It is more powerful that any cup of coffee, caffeine pill or obnoxious alarm clock. And it is much more

Within the space of an hour I am awake, refreshed and literally ready to bound from bed and face the day.

So, tell me. Am I the last one to learn how restoratively effective water is?

While I'm on the subject of water, allow me to make a recommendation. Please take advantage of a FREE offer and read the ebook, by Daron Fraley, pictured here.

You can view the entire book online or download it to your Kindle, Stanza, Palm or other reader - FREE!

The short story "Water" thrilled me the first time I read it. Daron takes his reader back in time to the Waters of Bethesda to witness "the rest of the story".

I was moved to tears the first time I read it.

WATER: Based on the account found in the Gospel of John, chapter 5, verses 1-16, and the painting by Carl Bloch, “Healing at the Pool of Bethesda” (historical fiction).

And Time Is

2010-10-18T20:47:00.000-07:00

My dear friend posted a Facebook status that said:

"Sometimes I feel like Life is such a whirlwind - people and places, good things and sad things, it just keeps going faster and faster. And every so often there is an event that makes everything just stop. At that moment, for just a moment everything seems timeless. We just are. Everything just is... Hearing from a friend. Looking into my husband’s eyes. Sitting around laughing with family or friends. A hug. A smile.... Sometimes it is just a moment, but these moments change my life forever."

Her thought was piercingly poignant. Time does rush more quickly as we age. It isn't just something that "old" people whine about as I thought when I was young and time seemed to drag forever.

I remember when I was young and my favorite television show was Time Tunnel. My favorite book was A Wrinkle in Time. I was fascinated by the concept of moving quickly from the now to some undefined future "better". I didn't know what better was but it was better than the now that I was living then.

I was a mixed up kid.

But, time does pass quicker and quicker as we age. Not in a rush like a time tunnel or a whoosh upon a tesseract, but time quickens as we age.

Perhaps because we know we are returning Home? Home, where we will enter timelessness and enjoy unmeasured eternity.

And Time Is

Determination sets the scale

Against choice and fight well spent;

And time is but a snapshot,

When spirits halt for measurement.

Life and breath weigh balanced

Against faith and worth and bent;

And time is born in finite space

Where souls are marked for measurement.

Eternity is held at bay

Against birth and life and death

And time is but a concept

Where mankind stands for measurement.

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When The Rain Returns

2010-10-18T00:01:00.000-07:00

The rain returned to Sacramento today. The months of sunshine, blue skies and heat have lingered well past my personal deadline for their departure.

It is so different than life in the Midwest where rain can come just about any day of the year.

In this city I wait for months for the rains to return.

Rain means more than cooling temperatures or replenishment of the living waters.

Rain means more than hearty soups on the stove, fuzzy blankets on the bed or the rhythm of rain on the roof.

No, for me, the return of the rain means afternoon naps on Sunday after church. I have waited long for the restful naps of a rainy day.

Naps restore my strength and the stamina stolen by the summer heat.

Naps bring the dreams that motivate imagination, energize creativity and restore a sense of harmony.

Oh how I have missed my rainy day naps.

Dear Readers -

I am competing against other bloggers to win a job - blogging.   I've been unemployed for six months and the checks are running out. By winning I would receive a lap top and a substantial salary for writing five blog posts a week for six months. It would mean having another job without transportation costs! Since I don't drive anymore - this is the ideal arrangement for me.

Everyone is permitted to vote once a day.  Without your help - as often as you can - I will not get the job. The purpose in this type of recruitment is to prove that I can reach a large audience and keep it growing. You are the audience. Will you help the numbers grow?

To Vote
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No registration required.
No forms to fill out.

I truly appreciate your help,

God Is True To His Word

2010-10-16T19:52:00.000-07:00

A reader left a comment on my earlier post with a question that I would like to answer here. It is a topic that I would have addressed in the near future - somehow I think God's timing on this is perfect.

Emily has left a new comment on your post "Hearten Soul For You":

I know this is alitle of the topic but I have immense respect for your faith and wondered what you think of this. i have been trying to contact you.

http://www.mamasick.com/2010/10/trip-to-the-e-r-or-no-sht/

Dear Emily:

You mention that you respect my faith while of your own faith you say, "I told her that I felt like God and Jesus don’t hear me any more and she said They still do, they always hear me and not to give up. Perhaps she was my EMT for a reason. When she left me she said she would be praying for me."

Your EMT is absolutely correct. God and Jesus do hear you. They are very aware of you and have orchestrated the universe to provide every experience that you need. God is able to use every event to your benefit, for your good, if you let Him.

It is easier for me to explain by sharing a little of my story - or that of my husband. Both of us have survived strokes. He suffered a "major league", devastating stroke that put him a coma for months. When he woke he had been robbed of speech, reading and writing. He has extreme right side weakness, often called paralysis.

I met him years after the stroke when he was still struggling to speak and to understand again. (You can read a little of our love story here some other time, if you'd like.)

He had no belief in God and, definitely, no faith in Jesus Christ until after his stroke. He was raised Jewish but had abandoned all interest in God when his mother died.

What I want to tell you about today is our most recent trip to the hospital.

My husband tripped while at work and, being unable to break his own fall, put his head straight into the edge of an empty metal shelf. His balding spot was partially scalped off in two "gynormous" lacerations. While everyone else was freaking out around him, he kept a level head and instructed the EMTs how to reach me. As he had waited for the ambulance, he had turned, in silent prayer, to the one Source he had learned to count on for guidance, reassurance and peace when he needed it.

See, it is not unusual for my husband to be in frequent conversation with "the guy with the holes in His hands". My husband has been talking to "this guy" since he was in the coma. He told me later that the only person who could understand him when he woke up after the stroke, was this guy, "the guy with the holes in His hands". And He was the only person that my husband was able to understand when He spoke.

It wasn't until after my husband met me that he learned that "the guy" was Jesus Christ. My husband discovered that every time he listened to what Jesus had to say, the answer was always right. Since he couldn't think for himself or figure things out after the stroke, he discovered that the easy way to the right answer was to pray. But, my husband emphasizes, it is even more important to clear his head and to listen for the answer. It is then that he is able to hear.

Back to this trip to the hospital, 15 years after the stroke. When I met up with him in the E.R. at his bedside, I could see that he had suffered a devastating injury. Anyone who understands head injury would know, at first glance, just how serious the situation was. (Before they finished with him, he had 17 stitches in his head.) Due to the fact that he is a stroke survivor with a shunt in his brain only made the situation that much more tense.

But the conversation that he and I were having, in front of the medical team (on both sides of his bed) and the people who could overhear from the trauma stations on either side of us, testified of my husband's abiding faith in God in every situation. We were calm and peaceful; trusting in the care of the medical staff because the situation was in God's hands. Every thing that they did, right or wrong, was under the watchful care of a loving Father in Heaven.

I asked my husband how he was feeling and what was going through his head after the fall.

He said, "I was wondering what the guy upstairs wants me to learn now."

I could only laugh and kiss him on his forehead. I know exactly what he means.

That is the kind of clarity that we have from our trials. We know that God will use everything we experience for our good because we believe Him. Not only do we believe in Him, we believe Him. He has said that He will use everything to our good. We know, first hand, that He means our trials and struggles especially. He teaches us in our grief and our pain. He has shown us each in many ways.

My husband has said frequently, in front of congregations, how grateful he is for his stroke. He knows that he needed to be humbled before he could learn the things he now knows. He is sure that the many blessings he has received since waking ( he lists a wife, a house, a dog and the gospel - to name a few) are all because "God smacked" him upside the head and humbled him. My husband knows that he ignored God until then. He is grateful that God rescued him and gave him such an incredible life.

Imagine what the onlookers were thinking as they listened to this man, laying on a gurney, in a neck brace and on a back board, covered in blood with it matting his remaining hair and dripping into his eyebrows - and obviously in pain yet ignoring it.

Imagine what they must have thought when they heard him say, in all sincerity, "Wow! I wonder what Jesus Christ wants from me now."

We have since discovered that God was preparing him for more growth; awesome, wonderful, exhilarating and blessed growth. That is the greatest gift my husband has ever asked for. And we are so grateful for it. He begins reading classes on Monday, three days a week, two hours a day. He feels so blessed.

I do not know how many people were touched in that E.R. room that day. I do know that they were touched. My husband has a mission to fulfill on this earth. It is revealed to us in each "accident" and in every ear that hears him say, "If it wasn't for Jesus Christ, I would be dead."

Emily, I promise you. God is true to His Word. Believe Him. Believe what He says and He will not disappoint you.

Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. (Proverbs 3:5-6 KJV)

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God (Romans 8:28a)

Thank God for Laughter

2010-10-16T07:28:00.000-07:00

I was feeling a little down and needed a pick-me-up. I did not need to combat anything in particular. I was simply "on overload". I know where that can lead and I had a choice to make.

I know that I have a choice about my moods. I can choose to be lifted up or I can choose to remain in a pity puddle.

That is not to imply that making the choice is easy or that causing change is simple. In some cases, it is not.

However, there are times - many times - when a pause to pray and making an effort to smile can turn the tide on an incoming depression or bad mood.

Sometimes, we can "turn a frown upside down" simply by hearing the sound of someone laughing.

Do you have a favorite video of laughter? Become a follower and share your laughter video link(s) in the comments below. I am going to create a page just for laughter. Don't forget to Include your blog home page address and I'll add your link back with your video suggestion.

One last thing before you continue your tour of this week's "Then Sings My Soul Saturday". Could you take a little side trip to vote for me? I'm trying to win a job. Click Here. No registration required. No obligation. Just one click on the Vote button. Thank you SO MUCH!

And we're hopping, and we're hopping . . .

Hearten Soul For You

2010-10-15T21:34:00.000-07:00

We've all heard of Mission Statements, yes?

Mission Statements for businesses, absolutely.

Mission Statements for families, great idea.

Mission Statement for self?

I have a mission statement for my life.

Really.

It comes from a song that I sing in church.

"Help me lift a soul's ambition, to a higher, nobler way"

I think like that.

Really.

Truly.

I do.

So,

My mission is to lift a soul's ambition, to a higher nobler way."

My goal is to hearten souls. I named my business Hearten Soul a few years ago and proudly purchased my California business license. I was out to change the world, one client at a time. I was on top of the world! It didn't bother me that only a few people knew what I was up to. I had to really struggle to explain myself.

You know.

Hearten?

As in: "to encourage",

or "to lift up?"

NO?

How about the opposite of "dishearten"?

YES!

My purpose is to hearten souls.

You can find me on the web.

I'm heartensoul4u

I found my niche

I write greeting cards to encourage husbands in their marriages.

I write a blog to encourage wives in their marriages.

I wrote an ebook to encourage people this Christmas season.

I chat on Facebook to encourage and rejoice with people practically every day.
Sometimes, I tweet for good cheer.

I write about overcoming struggles,

like stroke

and surviving

and thriving;

like abuse

and forgiving

and loving again;

like assault

and fear

and going outside again;

like loss

and grief

and healing;

like poverty

and wanting

and success;

like unemployment

and begging

and waiting.

Still waiting.

And still,

I write to the people,

the feeble and the frail,

the widows and the orphans,

the hurt and hungry.

The weak and the weary.

I write

because you cannot hear me clapping

or cheering,

or the songs

I would sing
out of key.

I share pictures

because you cannot see the flags I wave

or the standard unfurled
for your efforts.

I keep a blog

from here on the sidelines

waving pictures and

writing words of good cheer.

I write because . . .

I write because

I want you to know

that I know

what it is to be down.

I know what it is

to want to stay down

and never get up again.

I know what that's like.

And I know what it is

to take courage

and to rise up

and try again.

I know what that's like.

I want you to know it too.

My mission is to lift a soul's ambition to a higher, nobler way.

My purpose is to Hearten Souls.

I am heartensoul4u

I resurrected this blog for a number of reasons. I've been needing a place to post my thoughts that are not for any group of people in particular. I've wanted a place to fulfill my mission on a broader scale.

I've always written to

Hearten Souls,

to share my good mood.

Vote for me as your next Good Mood Blogger.

(No registration required)

I appreciate your support.

Another Parable of the Bicycle

2010-01-08T14:03:00.000-08:00

While awaiting repair of my computer, I’d like to share "Another Parable of the Bicycle". I published this first in 2008 to answer the age-old question "If God loves us, why is there so much pain in the world?

I skinned my knees pretty badly the first time I rode a bike. Actually, I skinned my knees, the palms of my hands, my knuckles, my elbows and even my feet before I was done. Now, THAT was pain.

And my parents did nothing to keep it from happening.

Actually, come to think of it, they GAVE me that bike!

For some reason, my parents thought that a bike would give me joy, pleasure and eventually some great adventure. They spoke of bike rides through the neighborhood. They suggested that in time I could ride as far as the park. But, of course, that would only be when I got older. They told me that someday I would be riding my bike on the trails all the way to the zoo, the airport, or the swimming pool at the community center.

Then, they removed the training wheels.

Now, THERE was very real pain.

I dreamed of the adventures along the roads and pathways yet to come when I grew up. I continued to grow and the dreams began to come true. I can still see the blurry houses beside me as I flew down the street coming off of Mt. Diablo. I can remember the thrill, the rushing wind, and the delight!

But then, I spilled as I got to the bottom.

Oh no, THERE was pain again.

In Illinois, in the suburban neighborhood where we had moved, I learned to ride sitting straight up, my arms folded across my chest, "hands free", and my weight turning the wheel. Such a pose I struck. I had conquered the bike. Learning to do that wasn't easy.

It took time and I took falls. A lot.

THERE was that pain again.

Finally, I got the ten-speed bike. I learned to tighten the spokes, adjust the gears, grease the chain, polish the chrome and fix the brakes. I decked it out with a speedometer, a water bottle, and a rear view mirror. I could ride at top speed on the busy streets along with traffic. I was intent. I was so cool. The light turned red. I'd been daydreaming.

A brake, a skid, a ditch, and there was THAT pain again.

All that pain that I felt and the suffering I endured; oh, it was awful. Did it really matter that I mastered something through the falls, the scrapes, the antiseptic and the Band-Aids? Was the pain worth it?
My parents gave me that first bike. They taught me to love the long ride, the adventure, the journey, the discoveries and the growing.

My parents loved me. So they introduced pain into my life. They said it would help me grow.

God loves me. He introduced pain into my life. He says it will help me grow.

Remember, Dad? You said that I had to suffer to be beautiful.

"Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction." (Isaiah 48:10)

For This is the Will of God Concerning You

2009-12-31T09:35:00.000-08:00

In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.

That scripture is from the First Epistle Of Paul, the Apostle, to the Thessalonians, Chapter 5, Verse 18. And yup it really says "in every thing."

Really? In every thing?

So, if I understand it correctly, “every thing” really does include both of my computers that went kaplooey last night. You have got to be kidding me!

So, Paul; What you're telling me is that in my broken computers I am expected to give thanks?

Right. Sure. I do NOT think so. My initial reaction plays out as it would for any human being. I begin to fret and worry and whine.

I mean, Gee Whiz! At the barest minimum, I have three blogs to maintain and a letter of recommendation for doctoral studies to prepare for a friend. These things can only be done with a computer. There are other odd and assorted things that I do on the computer over the weekend (and this a three day weekend!) that I must also leave undone until repairs or replacement.

Ah but (I can hear Paul telling me), "For broken computers, give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."

So, I try it on for size (so to speak). I say to myself, “I really am grateful for the broken computers because it is the will of God concerning me.” At least I did not yell AAaaacckkk and shake my furious fists at heaven. I was able to repeat it a few times.

“I really am grateful for the broken computers because it is the will of God concerning me. I really am grateful for the broken computers because it is the will of God concerning me. I really am grateful for the broken computers because it is the will of God concerning me.”

Hmm, because it is the will of God concerning me.

What does God have planned for me? I am beginning to get excited to find out! From what I know of God’s purposes concerning me, in all things His intention is to bless me.

My initial thoughts would never be that broken computers are a good way to bless anyone, especially me, but God obviously does. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord” (Isaiah 55:8).

My husband has thought that having a broken computer would have its benefits, though. He always is a “few steps” closer to godliness than I am. He listens more and hears better than me, too! He know that broken computers mean, at the least, more time for us to spend together.

I do thank God for the broken computers.

While I'm at it. I thank God for presenting other opportunities to post to my blogs.

And I thank God for a husband to spend time with.

Thank God in All Things

2009-12-30T07:54:00.000-08:00

This blog was inspired by a mission that my mother and I embarked upon a couple of years ago. She advised that I become grateful to God and to praise Him in all things . . . even the icky stuff . . . every day.

Scripture is replete with God's admonition that His children give gratitude in all things. My personal favorite (today) is from Paul's epistle to the Ephesians, Chapter 5 in verses 18 through 20.

. . . but be filled with the Spirit; Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord; Giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ . . .

He admonishes us to give thanks in all things. That practice takes practice and this blog is a way to track that journey, to journal gratitude in all things. I will graciously accept your gratitude journal entries in the comment section of any and every post.

We'll start this off, this New Years Eve Eve, with a video from Mormon Messages. It speaks well to the topic and might provide some amount of inspiration for the viewer.

What are you grateful for today?

At a Loss for Words

2009-12-29T15:20:00.000-08:00

As I’ve mentioned, my full-time job is that of “Customer Advocate”. Mostly that means that I take complaints against the transit provider in Sacramento. It isn’t always about late buses or high fares or pass ups. All too frequently it is becoming a lesson in sociology.

Today I received a phone call that prompts this post.

A caller was complaining about a bus driver’s behavior on the bus that she rode earlier today – oh, and the bus driver from Sunday when she got hurt – and the light rail operator from last week who scowled at her when she boarded – or, well, hell, all light rail operators for treating her like dirt – and the young mothers with their babies sitting in her seat.

This caller was thoroughly frustrated. Her tirade darted about the list of offenses commited against her until she had gotten herself into a proverbial “whirling dirvish”.

She knows that drivers have to push a button to lower the bus and another button to drop the ramp for her to board. She knows that it takes time.

She knows that the bus drivers have to leave their seats and secure her so she won’t get hurt. She knows that it is an inconvenience.

She knows that light rail drivers have to leave their compartments to lower the ramp and allow time for her get on. She knows that it is a chore for them.
She knows that young mothers with strollers would like to take the convenient seat and that they truly believe they the ones that are disabled. She knows she gets in their way.

Her dirvish ended and she began to apologize. She apologized for being such a bother to the drivers, that they should have to lower the bus and drop the ramp for her to wheel on board. She apologized that our bus drivers would have to leave their seats to strap her wheelchair safely in. She apologized to the young mothers for taking the more comfortable seats from them and for not being willing to wait at the curb in the cold and rain for another bus.

She apologized that it was necessary for her to get out of the house for shopping or for visits to the doctor or to the library or to school or to friends.

She wound it all up by apologizing for being in the wheelchair – as if she chose to be so confined. She apologized for having gone out to eat with a friend so many years ago and being struck by a drunk driver.

She finally paused and waited for my response.

I was at a loss for words.

Are You My Aunt?

2009-12-26T13:17:00.000-08:00

"Are you my aunt?" Holly asked when we were returning from breakfast this morning.

"No," I said as I began a frantic search for the words. To tell her we are first cousins, once removed seemed incredibly informal, even distant or disconnected. It was, if nothing else, totally inadequate.

Cousins, you say? What are cousins but boxes on a genealogy chart of faceless names or nameless faces in an old family portrait. How do I tell an inquisitive young woman of the ties that bind us - the ties that extend far beyond the blood relations or the common ancestry?

No, I am not your aunt. Your mother and I are cousins. But that does not begin to tell half the tale. How can I summarize in a sentence the years of trial and tribulations that came before Holly was ever born and the separations of time, space and ignorance that could have, should have, kept us apart? Her mother can tell her the stories, the complicated twists and turns of lives torn asunder long, long ago.

"You have 30 seconds", I tell myself. Sum it up quickly. The pictures, like old time movies, flash across the back of my mind and I can see, smell, and feel them all as if it were now. I remember Christmas in our Grandparents house, Holly's great-grandparent's house, with my cousins when we were children. I remember the being torn away, hidden far from family and reunited as a mixed-up, messed up, and frightened teenager. I remember being reunited and finding a kindred spirit in this sophisticated yet earthy teenage girl. We were never able to get our fill of each other. We would write as quickly as we talked and our words were of loves and life and looking forward to our far-too-few visits as if they were to be the greatest days of our lives.

I wanted to say, "Holly, your mother is more - so much more - than my cousin."

But, how could I say that without saying why? What words can explain the bond that was forged between two teenage girls - strangers really but cousins nonetheless - in a time and space and era so foreign and distant now? It is strange to think that the love felt between two cousins grew this strong in a number of days that, when strung together, would not fill a calendar year. The bond defies logic - as emotional bonds usually do.

I wish I could say that I was able to convey the full depth of emotion that the word cousin evokes from me. I am not that eloquent.

"Holly, your mother and I are cousins. But my children call your mother 'Aunt'."

I told my children that, because "Aunt" is a title of reverence, respect and adoration. It is a title that dignifies her place in my heart and her place in my memory.

We are cousins.

We are family.

And, family is love.

Gratitude Plays a BIG Part in My Life

2009-12-13T00:00:00.000-08:00

I am discovering that cultivating an attitude of gratitude in all things can make a tremendous difference in my life. I've been saying this for over a year, so to some of you it is "old news". I have to admit that being grateful is not as easy at it would seem. That might explain why God has mentioned it a few times in scripture.

After I finally realized that there really is a God, being grateful to Him in my blessings came naturally. I would praise Him for the sunrises and the sunsets. I loved to see the beasts of the fields and the fowl of the air. The sand, the surf, the mountains, the streams all cried for my attention and my heart would swell in gratitude. My eyes would well up with tears at the sight of a new baby's face. I have fallen to my knees on occasion in overwhelming gratitude for the many good gifts I have received. The list is as large as my ability to observe.

And I have often whispered from within the recesses of my heart a humble thanksgiving for the blessings of salvation, both eternal and immediate.

Now I am learning to be grateful in the "icky stuff". For it is in the "icky stuff" that I have experienced my greatest growth. My mind does comprehend that it is in tribulation that my fortitude has been forged. It is in trial that my resolve has been refined. It is in calamity that my character has been strengthened.

A key to enhancing the process, of growth and progress, was shown to me (by my mother) in the recent past. It is very frightening to test the theory that our greatest blessings come of cultivating an attitude of gratitude while yet in trial.

Yes, I said "while yet in trial". It is easy to rejoice in blessings but our greatest blessings truly come from the opportunities for development which God has provided for us. As I practice being grateful and praising God while yet in trial my progress and improvement is enhanced and increased.

What is truly humbling, is to recognize that He designed the tests of my life so that I might reach my fullest potential and He established my potential. Shall I not be grateful for all that He does and continues to do to impress His image in my countenance?

I am learning to praise and give glory in gratitude from within the Refiner's fire.

~ ~ ~

Last year, for Christmas, my mother purchased a bracelet from an artist I've grown quite fond of. I coveted that bracelet for the symbolism and the reminder of God's work with me. I am grateful to now possess that piece and to wear it frequently. It is a gentle reminder (in case I forget) to praise God from whom all blessings flow and to thank Him honestly for the tribulations.

The bracelet was inspired by Zechariah 13:9:

"This third I will bring into the fire;
I will refine them like silver and test them like gold.
They will call on my name and I will answer them;
I will say, 'They are my people,'
and they will say, 'The Lord is our God.'"

To see the bracelet "Refiner's Fire"

credit to Gayle Dowell

When I First Believed

2009-12-11T16:35:00.000-08:00

Long, long ago, when I was young and my parents dropped me off on Sunday at the closest church, I would pray to an unknown God. I'd usually just whine and berate him, albeit silently, for my predicament. I didn't thank him or praise him. What had He done for me?

I don't remember much of the whole church experience. I would sit in a pew with my sister and brother, singing hymns from a hymnbook and listening to a man who could drone on and on, making little or no sense, much like my father. His robes and vestments were intricately interesting; the minister, not my father.

Did I believe in this God the minister spoke of? I was much too analytical to put faith in an unknown and unseen - what? - ruler, creator, and king? Such a being made no sense in my brutal world, to my battered soul, to my bewildered mind. Why would I believe in someone who let me suffer so?

On Christmas I would listen to the stories of the baby Jesus in a manger, swaddled in swaddling clothes like bandages, with a new bright star in the sky and wise men on camels. It was all so surreal, like dragons and fairies and damsels in distress. As with the fables of the Brothers Grimm, I could never make sense of the whole Christmas story. How a baby in the hay could be a god. Why would I pray to a baby? How ridiculous to think that a baby could help me, could change things for me, could save me from the brutality of my home.

When I grew older - maybe sixteen or eighteen or so - I needed to believe. When I was in my early twenties I tentatively planted a seed of faith in the hard and rocky flesh of my heart. It found root and grew. By the time I was twenty-eight, I not only believed there was a God, I had come to knew there was a God.

How silently, how silently the wondrous gift was given! So God imparts, to human hearts, the blessings of His heaven.

Be of Good Cheer

2009-12-05T20:43:00.000-08:00

I would rather be a source of encouragement than to be a source of happiness and good cheer. I believe there is a fundamental difference.

I am reminded of jolly jesters who entertained the king's court in conjunction with evil edicts being handed down from the throne. Their job was to make people laugh, to be a source of happiness and good cheer.

To have faith and to have hope does not eliminate or ignore bad feelings; such as fear, grief, sorrow, or guilt. To express our own happiness and joy in the face of the struggles of others is inconsiderate. To expect someone to be happy when their burden is heavy is not realistic. Struggles and associated ill feelings, though painful, are purposeful. Great growth comes from enduring trials. Much like calisthenics, when muscles are forged by resistance, so is our character forged by trial. It would not be helpful to expect anyone to gloss over such experiences with a false expectation of happiness or good cheer.

What is needed, however, is encouragement. It is an art to share reassurance when others face tough times. The art of compassion and encouragement is much more demanding than the show of bravado; exhibiting grace under pressure infinitely more important than being a source of happiness and good cheer.

~

Is it important to be a source of happiness and good cheer?