Category: POSTS

Oh my heart, my soul does break, each time I drive on these broken roads. I tell myself, ”do not despair, this too shall pass, we shall prevail”. A time to end, a time to begin, from the old to the new, we enter this season with a reason to hope. I know this is only a means to an end, a phase in this process to setting the next stage. So I try to rise above this sorrow, but I need to be real with myself. Take a breath, say a prayer, feel the pain, let it go, start again. Gotta change my point of view with a different attitude & remember this truth; that life goes on in other places, but life is also what we make it. It’s easy to feel lonely & alone in the crowd of unknowns, when family & friends have packed up & gone, taking all that was left. Those who stayed to carry on, like Wayward Sons & Legion Daughters, marching forward like onward soldiers. When this historical news story stopped, the workers came & cleared our burnt lots. They piled up charred logs on rubble plots & downed our crumbled homes. It’s hard to drive through our rustic town, with flag twirlers, tree stompers, Deere drivers & more. There are many hardworking women & masked fellows, in bright colored vests of orange, green, & yellow. On a new normal day of driving through town, I patiently waited as the road crew directors continued to stop all the anxious moving traffic. I watched all the busy bee action, then made my way around the cone lined lanes & headed on up to visit a newly opened place. I passed you by, I saw your face, don’t know your name, but our eyes did meet. Can’t say I looked your way before, but saw you shopping in the grocery store. Now we wave, we say hello, we briefly shared our surviving story. A friendly stranger, now a bonded friend, closer neighbors, kindred spirits. A hug, a handshake, a smile hello, has much more meaning now than ever before. When loved ones come to meet & greet, visit home or sit & eat, my heart is elated, my soul is touched, it soothes this sudden break-up. There is a time to grieve, a time to dance, a time to cry & a time to laugh. Sometimes just listening shows we care, shares the hurt, helps heal each other. Let’s take a chance, one by one let’s take a hand & stand together. These times my friend… we are a changing.

Wanna go down to the river, down to the river to pray. Gonna go down to the river, gotta wash all these blues away! 🎶 Just like that old blues song, I’m singing those blues away. I’m watching this falling rain washing the ashes & dirt down the way. There’s a healing in that cool river water, that’s filled by the tears from heaven. It helps to ease the pain & lifts our sorrow’s away. It’s soothing, refreshing, reviving & life changing! I remember those wonderful carefree times, sitting on the hot boulder rocks, soaking up the warm summer rays & taking a dip at that cool river spot. It was a time to honestly reflect, spiritually connect & quiet the noise in my anxious mind. I was hoping & looking for answers to my numerous questions & life changing directions. My random thoughts & adventurous ways have always taken me to deeper places than most would like to go. I would often venture off the well beaten path & kinda get lost in my own nature walks, or spiritual talks; about life & where I would want to go from here or there. But we’re all really searching, always looking, carefully watching, for some kind of obvious sign. Maybe a word of hidden wisdom or just an intuitive gut feeling. Something that will give us some kind of new hope, needed encouragement, or moving inspiration, to know that everything is somehow gonna be alright. But sometimes I’m just so emotionally & mentally exhausted. Like I have been physically running, almost sprinting, in a long-distance race; to try & fix my complicated life & bring some purposeful meaning to this rapid busy pace. It’s an uneasy feeling, like something is surely wrong, because nothing really seems quite right. We just want to feel like it’s all gonna be okay, that this moment in time will soon pass somehow, somewhere someday. I’m reminded of that old blues song by Louis Armstrong: “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen, nobody knows my sorrow, nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen, nobody knows but Jesus”! I feel that, it moves me right down to my soul, as I hear his gravelly voice singing his blues away. I’ve pondered that song, when the troubles overflow into endless & useless unnerving trials on this road. Gotta let it go, all my sorrows, all my woes, lay this burden down & put this struggle in the ground! Wanna go down to the river, where the living water flows, gonna meet my Sweet Lord there, let Him carry this heavy load. Going down to the river, gotta go down to pray, down at the river, gonna wash all my blues away!

Looking through my stained-glass window across the darkened landscape, I see the Creator’s painted artwork of spring arising. Barren plains of bright green grass, softly cover rolling hills & canyon views, like a velvet moss thrown blanket. Multi colored scenes of wildflower blossoms grace the empty fields. Like Mary’s quite contrary garden, with silver bells & cockle shells & marigolds all in a row. Rushing rivers fill the many small creek beds, from constant rains & snow packed mountains; creating mini waterfalls, flowing down the rough cliff’s edge. Our low tide lake has now reached high, about to reach the border line, where flying geese & boaters share the crisp cool water play. This my friends is Paradise! A fresh bold start has now begun, cleansed the ground & cleared the land; to bear the birth of new found life that breathes & blooms again. Though blackened trees still stand dark, the season’s change has brought some light to gather one a thought. Perhaps a lil spark, of bringing hope & inspiration to our ridge view canyon folk. I know our hearts still break for our broken little town. Yet as we watch this season’s change, I hope we shall remember the good times that we had & not just see the ugly, or only see the bad. Like when we danced the night away to Mustang Sally’s song, with our very own homegrown bands; at the Annual Blues & Brews or at our summer Farmers Market stands! We shared a love for Ridge Strong life, helped peel, core & bake some fresh fruit pies, from our local Noble Orchard store. Time has come today, this change has now begun, we’re moving forward in a new direction to overcome this winter affliction. This is a call to the wild adventurer, a shout to the wounded warrior, a plea to the brave at heart! What once was lost will soon be found, as we are rising up from this broken ground. I know this task is daunting, it’s sometimes vastly haunting. But as we choose to walk this rugged path, let’s break some bread, say a prayer, offer a plea & wipe the dust from our weary feet. We’ve stayed the course, gone the distance, been tested, pulled & tried our patience. But through the raging fire, our hearts burn with desire to a call to arms. Open the gates, raise the flag & man the forts! If God be for us, who can be against us! This is not just a place, this is not just our home, this is what we call Paradise!

You definitely know that you walk alone, when you don’t even recognize where you are; can’t remember what place was once standing there, or you quickly forget how you got here. Can’t find the perfect words to describe how it feels when everything is so different. Nothing seems right & now the new norm is, well quite frankly, whatever is best or however it goes.There’s a sweet comfort & a real security embedded in us, when things are consistent & unchanging. Like clockwork, there’s a regular routine & like a familiar melody, the song remains the same. We knew the gas station that was at the street light corner near the drug store. It was across the main road from the grocery market, that was right next door to the candy shop. Grandma lived on the other side of town & brothers house was only two streets down, from the little league baseball field. Now we live in an, “under construction” town, that has no land marks or boundaries. There are more out of town workers than permanent residents & less people & friends than we know. Memorable moments in our short lived lives, happen at times when we least expect it. Like the joyful news of a new baby arrival, seeing an old friend at a class reunion, the first time kiss from our sweetheart, or the last goodbye to our precious loved one. Now we have a different kind of history to remember, one which we want to undo but can’t; nor can we seem to forget. Our never-ending story looks to only get worse before it begins to get better; as we watch our crumbled world get put back together again. But I want to remember this sojourners journey. What valuable lessons I’ve learned, that have left a lasting impression on this long dark winding road. I will not take for granted, the comforts of home sweet home ever again, or the companionship of having a close dear friend. The thoughtful gifts of a stranger I’d never met, or the blessed assurance of my loving family, who tenderly held me while I wept. My joy is more heart felt because my sorrow is deeper. My patience is longer because of the disappointment I’ve had when at my wits end. My love is now stronger in my family circle, my pain is less suffered because of the loyalty & honor of real friends. Out of the Ashes was born from a fire that burned & shattered my own little world. It pierced & touched the heart of my soul. We knew that our lives would be forever changed. Yet through it, we continued to hold onto hope, as we realized things would never be the same. Because of this I dare now say, I am thankful for His hand that heals the hurting heart, His strength that mends the weary soul & His unfailing love that puts the broken pieces of our fragile lives back together again.

“I didn’t know…. was this only a dream?” I thought to myself as I tossed & turned after a sleepless midnight stir. I quickly awoke as I finally realized, I was dreaming of living like nothing had happened or ever occurred. Disheartened, I gathered my purse, cup of joe, turned on some blues & drove down the road. I was hoping to stop all the frustrating questions that kept going round & around in my head. As I slowly drove passed the large iron gates, I took a quick glance at a familiar landmark that looked out of place. I could not believe this, it seemed so amazing, like time had stood still, or maybe just missed it. I gazed at the presence of some remarkable trees, untouched by the fire they escaped that hot blaze. The arms of their branches embraced the blue sky, like the hands of our prayers reaching up toward the heavens. They were valiant, victorious & survived through the flames; they defeated the enemy, “to death not today”! It seemed so ironic, this scene was iconic, in the heart of our city, there was life in our gravestone garden. Our historical cemetery, the potters field, had battled the fire of those who were buried. Like a bright shining light through the shadow of dark, it was a breath of fresh air, this appearance of life. I wanted to run barefoot, free through the trees, capture the essence, of the tall green pines in the cool gentle breeze. But then all around me I looked & I saw, chaos & ruins that surrounded it all. That hot autumn day I could not erase, it had changed us forever, touched us deeper than ever. I wanted to scream, I was tempted to shout, to yell at this world laying broken & still! So I drove down through town, wiped the tears from my face, when I spotted yellow daffodils springing up all around. Was it Johnny Appleseed who changed the sowers plan? Or maybe the Gold miners daughter who had a prospectors pan. Whoever, whatever, whenever it happened, it changed my perspective to see beauty for ashes. I turned at the corner, my eyes were surprised, a once barren tree was now covered with lavender blossoms! For an instant, a moment, it seemed like somehow, I’d stepped back in time before the madness began. Just then my questions were finally answered, now I saw clearly to what had just happened. We can’t change the past, though that’s what we want most, but we can paint today with a vision of hope. A plan to set forth a new life for ourselves, begins with a start to finish the race. Let us strive to be bold, take a chance to be brave, arise like the Phoenix & say, “to death not today”! Never forget who we are, what we’ve done, we’re in this together, we are stronger as one! As God is our witness, let’s honor our past, as we are a people who are rising from the ashes!

I’m torn. The conflicting steps of moving onward, looking forward & planning ahead. Not seeing the many familiar faces, comfortable places, or green open spaces. Our impressionable minds continue to hold on to the memorable pictures we’d seen so many times before. Like walking down sweet memory lane & strolling through the echoes of our unforgotten life. Our tender hearts long for the precious memories & fond moments that touched our daily lives. I can’t help it, I miss that. When I cautiously drive through our fallen down town, I grasp for the visual of what once stood on those empty spaces, now stacked with charred wood. I strive to remember our country bumpkin places, not the scraps of torn metal & chards of red brick. When it’s least expected I’m pleasantly surprised, when I see an old face from the near distant past. Whether I know them or not, they’re now a new friend, I’m glad to see someone I recognize again. It quiets the sadness of watching this process, that’s clearing a way to making new progress. Though many have gone, have traveled afar, I know that their hearts still long for their home. Even those who have stayed probably question to go, but the ties to be here are much stronger than the answer of where to move on to. Either way the transition is uneasy at best. We are stressed, we are stretched, all along we’ve been taken out of our comfort zone. Our hearts have been fractured, we’ve lost our hometown, but our hope to rebuild will somehow be found. I’m thankful, I’m grateful, I’m blessed beyond words! Many have come from afar to be here, to guide us, to show us, perhaps to help find us. We’re slowly moving on, we’re traveling forward, though at times we seem captured by a broken past moment. We’ve started a plan, we’re walking on new land & we’re stepping in new ground. This is the time we’ll see who we are, what we’re made of & how we’ll stand. Let us “dare to dream”, beyond what we feel. We’ll begin to believe & seek once again, for that unexpected hope to call home.

“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep…” a simple childhood bedside prayer. I remember the words so well. My Mama taught me to fold my hands, kneel by my bed & together we prayed. Seems a long time ago, those wonder filled days of yesteryear. Many four seasons have come & gone, but I’ll never forget the sweet comfort she gave me, through the storms of this trying life. Isn’t it funny how a picture reminds us of those little tucked memories in a box? They can say a thousand words without speaking a one! This is that memory, the picture I see as I look at sweet Missy, who peacefully sleeps through the cold of winters bitter past. That subtle tone beneath her crackled face, shows wear & tear from the heated flames & freezing snow. I can almost feel the stinging bite from the fire & ice, as I watch her still calmness without a care in the world. Sometimes I lay awake at night with my tired eyes wide open. I try so hard to stop the rambling thoughts of the day. I carefully check off my numbered list & try to forget what endless things were missed. The restless nights & day dreamed hours, often fill this broken time with wandering thoughts & stressful talks. I think back on a moment in time, when my little boy’s sleep would awaken. He’d cry with a fright & a scare, from a nightmare that seemed so real. I quietly prayed, softly combed through his hair & we’d cite a scripture to help calm his fear. “In peace I will lie down and sleep, for You alone Lord, make me dwell in safety”. From a mother to a daughter, now a mother to a son, I continued a simple tradition. A prayer that led the babe-like child safe to the hands of the Father, was passed down & around & the circle was now complete. When anxious thoughts do multiply, I know where I can find a way to ease my stress, a comfort to settle my soul. A perfect reminder from this Mural I see, there is peace through the storm & a rest to our sleep. Through the heat of the fire & the freeze of the ice, Missy Grammer lays calm as she quietly sleeps. Psalm 4:8

If only the trees, the timber, the forest, had a voice that could speak. They would share from the deep of the woods.This is that face, although subtle, this stare tells the story of wishes, last rites & bedside tales. She silently whispers an echo unheard, like a soft breezy wind that quickly returns. I quiver to think when I look at these trees, what a cry they might scream; “No! This can’t be, look at me while I stand, before I have fallen from glory, before my beauty’s no more”! They once were so vibrant & strong, embraced by the light, they stood spectacular, our gentle green giants. Such grace they displayed surrounding our town, giving us shade as they stood their ground. I gasp as I see this stunning lady, her speechless expression draws attention! She somberly captures a look of dismay, as she realizes the plight that befalls her bark timbers. It’s a shock of disbelief, maybe a plea for a picture to remember her glory, our stately wood wonders. Now quiet & solemn they lay on the ground weeping in sorrow, our fallen grand arbors! Let us not soon forget how much beauty they brought to our humble abodes, to our quaint little town. This face of the forest speaks louder than words. I’m struck by the mystery of what I have heard. “Take a pine cone, an acorn, a sapling or seedling. Replant, restore, replace them once more”! In memory of what we once cherished & adored, let’s bring back new growth to reshape our new town. Through the years they graced us with beauty & stature, let’s honor these tree lives with bringing in new life. A silent request, perhaps a call from the wild, this from our lady, the Face of the Forest.

Lord, I’m tired. This is so exhausting. As I stand beside the honorable brave, I watch their humble efforts, trying to emulate their deeds & be more like them, & less like me. But I am a wounded warrior from a futile fight, a fallen soldier in the dark! I don’t know how much more weight, these shoulders can possibly bear, or muster up the strength. How can I gather the composure to battle the arrows that fly by day, when the aimless darts steal my restless sleep at night? I know I am only one amongst many, who feel this crippling weakness. This huge forbearance is an honest compulsion to want to be strong, but so quickly I become weak. I’m seeking refuge from this ruthless savage war. It took the helpless, our precious own; yet left so many to battle & wander on their own. Hear our prayer oh Lord! We need Your strength to endure the tempting trials, that befall the race ahead & cause this wavering doubt. Take this mustard seed of faith, though small it be, we ask for more. More faith to move forward, more strength to grow broader, more hope to believe that we are not alone! Help us know that You shall guide our crooked weary path. Heal our broken shattered hearts, to feel Your unfailing, everlasting love! Lord, please hold onto me, don’t ever let me go; as I cling tightly to just a thread of hope. With You I know I’m strong, not weak. Open my eyes to see less of me & more of You, Jesus.

There’s something in the moving way she’s standing still. As if bowing her head in reflective prayer, she’s consciously drifting into a place where there is no other. Her long wispy hair, blowing in the cool night wind, is caught by a gentle breeze. It softly catches her breath. She wears a blissful smile, as she gathers her inner thoughts & deeply ponders the wonders of what could possibly be. Life does that, makes us reflect upon ourselves & examine our motives. It probes those aspirations, till we can firmly see a clear direction. Unanswered questions grasp a hold & take control of those random choices, simple tasks & man made plans. The unmarked road is not always easy to know, which destined path is best to go. Sometimes we fly on a broken wing & silent prayer; unsure of what to do, where to go, or how we even got here! The simple answers to life’s difficult struggles & unpredictable changes, are never found easily, without complete honesty & humble searching. It’s time to stop, take a deep breath, cease the somber moment & sincerely reconnect. As we take a knee, let’s say a heartfelt prayer to reach the gates of heaven & quietly listen, to the One who touches our wounded soul & heals our broken heart. The rest of the story has not finished, it has barely begun! Let us have ears to hear as we gain our bearings, cast our sorrows & learn to trust in this time of Reflecting.