Perseverance

Perseverance: my word for the day... and what is my Bible reading for the day? uh huh... you guessed it!

2 Thessalonians 3:13 "And as for you, brothers (sisters), never tire of doing what is right."
Galatians 6:9 "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."
Hebrews 10:36 "You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised." 

AND this is the definition I found of the word persevere - "to refuse to give up; to keep on trying; to continue in one's actions or beliefs in spite of problems.)

How many times have I wanted to quit because something just wasn't going my way, or I didn't think I was doing it right, or....   well, you get the idea.  My Dad was a great teacher of perseverance.  He always told me to "stick with it, keep trying, don't give up.  If you believe in it and know that it is the right thing to do, even if something is bogging you down, just keep on plugging".    I learned from an early age to finish what I had started, and it has NOT always been easy.  The easy thing to do a lot of the time would be to throw in the towel.  But, is that the easy thing?  Who are you hurting when you do?  

Now I'm thinking back to when I played softball on the Carroll County Women's league, yes it was a long time ago...  figured I'd say it before everyone thought it.  I had a major issue with one of the coaches, I was ready to walk away from it all.  AND because of my love for the game, that was huge.  But, I was ready to give it up, end my season.....  but was that the right thing to do?  Who would benefit from it, certainly not the team.  Would I feel any better?  

Who did I turn too?  Yeah, Dad.  What did he tell me?  He told me that I needed to finish what I started.  Don't walk away, it wouldn't solve anything.  Keep on plugging, be there for the team.  You signed up for the duration, walking away would only hurt the team, and maybe even forfeit the season.  Dad was a smart cookie, you know.  

There have been several other things that I have wanted to throw the towel in on....   Are you having some thoughts of throwing in the towel?

Here's a thought: 

persevere - "to refuse to give up; to keep on trying; to continue in one's actions or beliefs in spite of problems.

 

 

 

 

 

Run away or not to run away..... that is the question.....

Okay, so here is the question:  What do you do when things get tough?  Hmmmmm?

I know some people would say, run away...  now, what happens when you run away?  Does the problem or pain or situation go away?  Hmmmm?

I don't think so...  well, it never has for me anyway.  It is still there.  It even has a habit of running away with you.  There is nowhere to go that it won't find you.  It keeps lurking around everywhere.  It even seems to grow bigger and bigger.

So, what are we supposed to do when it is so tough?  Hmmmmm?

We are to stand firm.  We are to come face to face with it.  We are to put on our battle armor.  We are to let go of it and let God handle it.  Give it to Him and don't take it back.  He is bigger than the boogie man.  Stay in it and fight for what you believe.  Don't abandon the ship because it's not easy.

God is faithful!  God is good!  God can work all things out!

'nough said....  I think you get my point....     

and more remembering.....

The four of us riding on Dad's Indian motorcycle to visit Grampa and Grammie...  me on the gas tank then Dad, then Bud and then Mom...  full house, but smiles all around.

Dad scooping me up after falling off the rolling barrel and carrying me into the house where Mom was waiting with the cold washcloth to wipe off the blood from under my chin and a bandaid to cover the boo boo so that I could go back outside and try it again.

My first minibike that Dad made sure was safe for me...  didn't have much power but it was safe...  got me where I needed to get to...  a bit slower than all the rest, but I got there.  I don't think Mom was too crazy about me having a minibike, but Dad was a good teacher, and I always wore my helmet...

Riding snowmobiles up Red Hill on the coldest of days.  So much fun!  Sitting behind my Dad, and then him letting me drive for a bit once we reached the summit.

more to come..... 

Remembering... continued.

I remember the times we went to the Long Island bridge and flew our kites.  Oh how they would soar in the wind, Dad making sure that they didn't get tangled in the overhead wires, and when they would sink into the lake, he would pull oh so hard, and up it would come flying right back up in the air.

Fishing trips to Half Way Brook up behind Uncle Hoarce and Aunt Ernestine's, or down to the damn on Lee Road behind Dick and June Young's.  Dad heading down the river first with Bud and me tagging behind and Mom always bringing up the rear making sure we didn't fall in.

Hunting with Dad.  We would go way out in the woods, and he would find the perfect tree for us to sit under and wait...  Dad making sure we had plenty of Hershey Bars so we wouldn't get to hungry.  He making sure that we sat just right, so that we would be up wind from any deer...  especially when we took out those candy bars...  don't want the deer to come and eat all our candy.

Dad stopping by the house on a cold winter's night in his big plow truck so that I could ride with him as he plowed down over the bridge and the roads on Long Island.  Feeling as if sometimes we were going to get sucked into the snowbanks as the snow drifted heavily just before and after the bridge.

Mom and me singing in the choir at church.  She sang with the adult choir and I sang with the junior choir.  Practicing our songs together.  How Mom loved to sing.

to be continued....... 

Remembering...

I'm sitting here this afternoon with thoughts (remembrances) flooding my mind.  They are good memories, fun memories....

The first one that came to mind was the hustle and bustle around the kitchen table at home as Mom was busy helping all those little boys with their activities, and Dad trying to teach them the lesson.  Mom was a den mother for the cub scouts and Dad was the cub master.  There was always so much excitement on those once a week meetings. 

Then another time was when Mom and Dad would take us to the field next door for a 2 on 2 game of softball.  It was always so funny because Mom was not an athlete at all...  but she would be right in there....  swinging the bat so awkwardly.  And Dad would let me use his baseball glove, and then laugh because he was left handed and it made it easier for him to get on base as I would have to take the glove off to throw the ball.

And another time was when I had a sewing project that I just couldn't do in 4-H.  Mom would sit patiently beside me at the sewing machine and guide me through each step....  I don't like sewing...

And Dad was the coach for the Meredith Farm Team.  Bud was a star pitcher for his team, Mom would watch every game, and Dad would when he could.  But most of all, Dad loved coaching those little guys, and he would let me help and play....  Every week, I would be by his side, learning everything he could teach me.

I had good role models when it came to working with children, and working hard, and loving their family, sacrificing for others...

I remember when we lived over the old laundromat on Moultonboro Neck Road.  There was a slanted floor on one end of the room, and Dad put an old bed spring on it and we would jump on it like a trampoline until people in the laundromat downstairs thought we were coming through the ceiling.  :)

To be continued...........

Seasons of Grief - Shock

What is shock?  It's a sudden, violent disturbance to the body.  Have you encountered this paralyzing reaction?  What are the circumstances?  Mine has been in the grief process of losing both my parents within 40 days of each other.

A numbess, an awareness that I wasn't in control, a realization that there's something missing from my life now.  There are days that I can go on and everything seems good, and then all of a sudden, out of the blue I am overtaken.  The shock really hasn't worn off...  and I am grief stricken.  I feel powerless to cope.  And to think striaght?  Hardly!

So what do I do?  I would like to say that I immediately go to Jesus, but I am human after all.  But then I feel His hand gently leading me to Himself.  And I realize that I can do nothing to make it better on my own, that I am totally dependent on Him for His guidance through this process.

"The Lord will give strength to His people; the Lord will bless His people with peace."  Psalm 29:11

Oh Lord, my feet have been swept out from under me, but in Your loving arms I am steady and secure.  Amen.

It's been long enough?

Today has been a really difficult day for me.  It started last night, as I lay in bed...  I started sobbing, feeling so alone.  Thoughts of Mom and Dad flooding my thoughts....  I kept reliving my travels with Dad to Concord and Laconia for his treatments, taking Mom to the nursing home and hospital for our visits with Dad, and her monthly visits for her doctor's appointments...  moving them to our home and sitting with them on their last days, holding their hands whispering to them "I love you!"  Reading the 23 Psalm and singing to them "Amazing Grace", "In the Garden" and "The Old Ruggged Cross".  

Then I think of the "well intentioned" friends that have tried to offer their help and encouragement...  "I know exactly how you feel" and  "You need to get on with it, it's been long enough" and "They wouldn't want you to be so sad".   Maybe I am holding on.  Maybe I should get over it.  Maybe it's been long enough.

Then I sit and read my Bible and devotional.  And I read that grieving is okay.  That it is part of the healing process.  And there is no time limit on grieving.   And everyone goes through the grieving process differently.    And that process can't be shut down because of time.  And no one else knows how I feel as we all experience grief differently.  God made us all different.  YAY!!!

"You have to take a day at a time.  Tomorrow may be different."   So I am taking it one day at a time, good days, not so good days....   I am me, and I will experience things differently than others, and that's okay...

So, here is my prayer...   Jesus, it is only by Your grace that I can be healed.  I commit my grieving process to You right now, and I promise to see this process through.  Amen.