Category Archives: GRATITUDE

Getting back up on that horse!

ENCOURAGEMENT, GRATITUDE, HARD TIMES

Well, it’s been too long since I posted.  I have to admit I was thrown for a loop when I learned I had my website and book site set up all wrong.  It has taken me a while to get back in the saddle. (Plus our family shared a cold, over and over, for a week and a half – yuk!)  So, even though I know better, I got discouraged to the point of paralysis!

But, praise God, getting stuck in feelings is always temporary now!  God does little HUGE miracles to lift me out of that old pit of fear and self-pity .  So, I am revamping part of this site and transferring the book “Unjealous Heart” to the website called unjealousheart.com.  FYI, it took more than a hour with the great support folks at Godaddy.com to get the changes done.

You may subscribe to the blogs of this book for free now.   Just visit unjealousheart.com and sign up.  Or, if you don’t want to receive posts in your email, just log in to the site and read the latest post that way.

Either way, please do share your thoughts with me!  Hopefully, this will one day be a print book, and I want the final version to be maximally useful and on target.  You can help tremendously with that by telling me honestly what you like and do not like and what you want to see that I have accidentally left out.

In so many ways I feel like it is 30 years ago and I am just starting to learn about writing.  I am at the beginning of another steep learning curve with having a website and how to do “marketing” – NOT my kind of thing!

But the wonderful thing is that the loving God who taught me how to write is the same One who is still teaching me.  And I still have the same peaceful but terribly excited feelings I did 30 years ago as I work in a tiny apartment so similar to the one Sharon and I shared for seven years.  Our God is far beyond awesome!

Bargains. . . A Double Blessing!

EFFECTS OF POVERTY, GRATITUDE, HARD TIMES, THRIFT

 

 

sketch lotion

In the cabinet under my bathroom sink stand five bottles of cream oil body lotion, with shea butter,  for extra dry skin.  (Thanks to Texas weather, that definitely describes my skin!)  The lotion was on sale in my favorite department store – clearance priced with a $5 card for buying four bottles, which made it an even greater bargain. Bottles of this lotion now stand next to my bed, my rocking chair, and the bathroom.  No more chasing one bottle of lotion all over the place  – luxury!

I rubbed some on my hands, arms and neck before sitting down to type this post.  The fragrance envelopes me like the finest perfume – at least for several minutes before it fades.  Scent is calming to me, and I have not purchased perfume for more than five years. But my loving heavenly Father gave me a six month supply of a most comforting scent for a miniscule fraction of the regular cost.

God consistently, faithfully leads me to bargains like the lotion.  It is always like a loving pat on my head.  “See Freda.  I am taking care of your every need, and I know every detail of your life.”  I bought five boxes of stuffing mix (which I love) for 81 cents, instead of the regular $1.15 in the same department store in January.  And the list could go on, with innumerable examples from the 34 years I’ve known Jesus.

Do I ever tire of having to be frugal?  After all, I’ve had no choice for most of my adult life and that’s getting to be a lot of years now.  Do I ever get sick of having not so much that the haves do?  Of course!  I am fully human, believe me.  But to keep the bitter roots of envy, resentment and jealousy from taking root, I do several things.

  • Keep a heart of true gratitude and express that to God continually.
  • Avoid malls, catalogs, television, and anything else that revolves around materialism
  • When I do succumb to wistful longing (usually about something I wish I could get for my family), I talk to God about it, add 10 things to my gratitude list, and take extra care to guard my heart.

I am far from perfection, but like the song by the group Selah says,

“In Jesus’ name, we press on. 

Dear Lord with the prize, clear before our eyes,

we find the strength to press on.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Bg2cJ5bw2k

Why set my heart on earthly things, more fleeting than morning mist, when I can store up treasures in heaven?   Unseen treasures – like love, joy, peace, and gratitude – are eternal.  (II Corinthians 4:18)

P.S.:  Yes, I know the sketches are by no means professional but I am enjoying doing them.  And who knows, if God helps me improve, we can watch the  progress together!!

 

What is real hardship?

EFFECTS OF POVERTY, GRATITUDE

When the fatigue is so intense that you feel ill, you know you are tired.  I was.

I shifted my grandson from one hip to the other as I tried, in vain, to mail the package at the automated machine outside the post office lobby.   The machine would not read my card.  I looked at the line inside.

“Has to be at least 10 to 12 people, Lord.  I don’t think I can stand up that much longer.  But I need to get this package mailed for Sharon.  Oh, Lord, help me!”

As soon as Allen and I got in line, two more people lined up behind.

“Thank You, Lord.  That’s two behind, rather than in front.”

Allen is a precious two year old, with only occasional (for the moment) flare-ups of  “No!”.  He is my errand buddy three mornings each week while my daughter has much-needed time alone with my other grandson, who is four going on fourteen.

Allen was content to sit quietly on my left hip and check out the details of the unfamiliar place and the new faces, many of course, with smiles for him.  After ten minutes of not moving an inch, my hip, however, demanded relief and I set Allen down on the floor.  He circled around me, looking up at the smiling faces while I just tried to brace myself to avoid swaying.   After ten more minutes, still not moving one inch, I began praying in earnest.  I felt dizzy and, unusual for me, had no snack in my purse.

Finally, the line moved forward enough so that I could sit on the edge of the low counter loaded with mailing supplies, certain that if a postal worker saw me my face would tell the story and they would just let me sit.

And I sat.  For ten more minutes, trying but not managing to avoid complaining.    At first there had been ten people in front of us.  By the time I sat down, that number was down to five, four of whom were women, each of whom was old enough to be either a mom or grandmother, old enough to hear the sounds of a happy toddler wondering around behind them.

As each minute ticked by, I grew more and more resentful.  And my face showed it.  As Allen meandered around, charming everyone in line, one woman – ahead of me in the line – turned back to ask me, as she moved sideways “Can you see him now?”

All I could manage was a nod of the head. The words “thank you” just would not come out.

“How,” I screamed inside my head, “can you see me sitting here, obviously dead on my feet! How can you see the toddler I have with me! and my age! and not offer to trade places with me in line?  If you were ten people ahead, I could understand but surely no one would object since it would not make any difference to anyone behind us. How?!!!!”

And I felt that way until we got home, to our comfortable air-conditioned home.

“Forgive me, Lord, for my attitude.  How many people in some countries stand in line for days, just to get water or a tiny bit of food for their starving families?  Thank You for reminding me of the untold blessings You have showered on me. Forgive me for not praying more for those who are in real hardship.  Help me live unselfishly, as You did Lord Jesus.”

Crackers in my in-box – what joy!

FAMILY, GRATITUDE

emjoy little things plaque

Keeping my desk tidy daily helps me feel organized.  When I feel organized,  I think more clearly.  Howsomever, my goals and reality in this regard often do not match.  So, I take time once a week to clean up.

Today, I laughed when I pulled out one and a half Triscuits from far back on the third shelf of my desk trays.  This was my youngest grandson’s private stash from his last overnight with Nana when we had sat at my computer and looked at videos of trains, frogs, butterflies, and anything else I could think of to delight him.  I hadn’t even seen him put the crackers there.  They were a little gift, as sweet as the scent of baby breath, when I found them.

Until I had grandchildren of my own, I never really understood how it feels.  Of course!  How do you explain the thrill of seeing your own and your child’s features reflected in their children?  How do you explain the quick tears when you see one your father’s face in your grandson’s and you see that his hands are going to be just like his great grandfather’s?

How can you possibly thank God enough that You get the chance to hold a baby, to snuggle them close for naps, to smell their sweetness, to stroke  the velvet skin of their chubby little arms and legs and be a Mom or Dad all over again?

Most of all, how do you thank our Heavenly Father for wisdom from Him to cherish each moment of their childhood more fully than you did with your own  children?

The quote pictured above says “Enjoy the little things in life. . . for one day you may realize they were the BIG things.”   Triscuits in my in box is a BIG thing.  Thank You, Lord, thank You!

And by the way, my daughter is SUPER health conscious about food for the boys.   Her cracker of choice for their snacks is Triscuits.   I like ’em, too, especially when shared, bite for bite, with Alan or Ben!  http://www.triscuit.com/

 

 

Mysterious Housewarming Gifts

GRATITUDE, THRIFT

Last night I received three delightful housewarming gifts, though I’ve been settled in my little apartment for seven months now.  The gifts were in my favorite colors and harmonized with my shabby chic style.

First was a large framed picture of a rose.  By large, I mean Georgia O’Keefe large.  Two similar pictures ones grace my walls.  This one was in a heavy, double-beveled brown frame.  Dove gray flowers with light brown swirls backgrounded an off-center frame on frame, of a gray rose, fully opening its petals over the elegant arc of its stem.

Next was a small white flower stand, its graceful flaring legs topped by a seven by seven inch top.  White just happens to be my accent color.  Now, my CD player could rest on the flower stand, not the floor, while Johnny Cash’s rich baritone read me the New Testament as I cooked and cleaned each night.   (Get your copy at http://www.christianbook.com/

Finally, was a conically-shaped silver glass.  As I rotated the heavy weight in my hand, I saw not one scratch.  The glass completed my little collection of silver bling at the end of the counter underneath the window.   There, propped on an upturned brown wicker basket sat the Brighton clock a Florida friend had given me at my going away party.  Next to that, was a running horse etched on a paper thin silver plate I’d made as a horse-crazy ten-year-old Girl Scout.  The plate had been propped in a place of honor, in every home I had had for the last 43 years.   Horses remind me of my Dad.  The shiny silver glass drew my eye to that little touch of my Dad.

Had I asked for the gifts? No.  Did I need any of them?  No.  My Sunday School class and fellow Prayer Team members had amply supplied, and then some, all I needed to set up housekeeping.  But, you know, our loving Heavenly Father delights in giving us unexpected pleasures like sunsets, bargains, butterflies, and smiles from strangers when we feel low.

Decades earlier, one winter night my daughter and I had crept quietly outside and lovingly propped our much-used diminutive table-top Christmas tree against the dumpster.  When we walked back two minutes later to add a box of Christmas decorations, the tree was gone.   I can still feel the warmth that night as we just smiled at each other and went back inside.

Where did my mysterious gifts come from?  Last night, when this Texas heat relented just a bit, I took the trash out.  Propped against the dumpster stood the framed rose, leaning on the plant stand, with the silver glass on top.  How grateful I am for the little things God does!  I can almost hear Him whisper “My child, I see you right where you are.  And I am always caring for you.  I love you.”

My “Priceless” Antiques

ENCOURAGEMENT, FAMILY, GRATITUDE

Most everything in my apartment is a second-generation antique – and truly priceless.

I remember seeing Daddy empty out his pockets into a wood tray on the top of the maple chest of drawers that now holds my clothes.  I see my infant daughter, frog-like little belly and long tiny legs, smiling up at me from its padded surface as I changed her diapers.  For the seven years we lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, I saw Sharon’s  collection of model horses on it and, later, her first jewelry box, which I have “inherited” and have used as my own for twenty years or so.

I used a small white bookcase to old the books and novels that shaped my teenage dreams of being a writer.  Within a few short years, Sharon used it as her vertical toy chest, too.  She adorned both sides and two shelves with her first Crayola mural, which will be there when she inherits my priceless antiques one day.

Today, my grandson’s plastic monster trucks, coloring books, and the Nana’s house branch of their personal library fill the by-now wobbly shelves.

A focal point in my front room is a three-generation antique.  My Mom told me she and Daddy purchased the wooden toy chest on lay-away when my older brother and I were both small.  I saw that toy chest in my childhood home my entire life, long after my brother, younger by six years, outgrew it.   I understand why Mom kept it as an integral part of the furnishings.  It keeps memories of your children as toddlers warm and close to your heart.

Because my Sharon was the first grandchild, she got to put her xylophone, Fisher Price telephone, and stuffed giraffe in it. And, I, too, kept it as part of the furnishings until it had to go into storage for two years when I relocated.

The hinged lid style was declared unsafe many years ago by the wonderful folks who check the safety of toys.  So, it now holds cherished mementos of I have of my Dad – his old hunting cap, one of the many baseball trophies he and my two brothers accumulated, a notepad and sunglass case that resided in his shirt pocket, and one shotgun shell.

I have it turned around and the lid safely secured so my grandsons cannot open it. They gleefully use it as their table when they visit Nana.

The mere presence of that little toy chest fills me with the warmth and security and love that my Dad radiated as he sat in his recliner, and we three kids lay on the floor around his feet, watching Westerns on TV.  Yes, my antiques are truly, truly beyond price.