Positive Quote 25.06 — Blog of a Mad Black Woman

Another spark of light from our blogger friend Persia:

If you light a lamp for someone else, it will also brighten your path. Unknown Have a blessed day all.

via Positive Quote 25.06 — Blog of a Mad Black Woman

My God, That Guy: Part V

“What’s going on?” the man said loudly before either of us knew what woke us – or even that we’d fallen asleep. He talked late into the night, captivating me with his stories. My mind raced between amazement that he was serious, and confusion – I mean, things he described simply don’t happen. But it all aligned with what I’d been hearing all day. I barely spoke the entire night but listened intently.

But now, something in me also sprang to life as the excited woman ran past us calling something about the tomb being empty. The man immediately bolted after her.

I had intended to leave early for the journey home, but I wound up dozing on the street next to this man. And yet heartbeats after my ears and eyes awoke, I was running after these people – I wanted to call to the man when I realized I never asked his name. I could hear their winded, excited, voices ahead of me, their feet pounded the ground and I did my best to catch up.

Soon I could see a huge stone sitting aside a carved opening in the rock,  and the woman looking in from outside. When I arrived the man walked out of the tomb and silently hurried toward the town. The woman called to him, sobbing, “I tell you, the shroud, the napkin we covered his head with were sitting to the side, neatly folded. He was already gone.”

The man called back something about guards… and not enough people to move that stone. He couldn’t have seen me. He kept walking only faster.

A myriad of emotions overtook me – entirely exhausted, every hair on my body stood on end as though the air I breathed was charged with energy. I don’t know why I walked around while there could have been guards lingering about. Still, I studied the ground until I found a level place and sat to lean against the rock wall.

I don’t know how long I sat there until the light disturbed me. Overwhelmed with all my mind had to process in such a short time, I stood and staggered around a few steps to see the woman still standing at the opening of the tomb, weeping openly.

But the light – brilliant light I’ve never seen or even imagined, and I heard a voice, barely audible from where I leaned against the rocks, yet I clearly, distinctively heard the words from the source of the light, someone, some being seated on the stone,

“Don’t be afraid!” he said to her, “I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead, just as he said… And now, go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead…”*

Frozen in place, I watched the woman turn and run where the man had gone earlier. Then the light was gone as fast as she was and a dust cloud wafted over the scene.

Drawing every bit of strength I could muster up, shelving logic as best I could for the moment, I stumbled to the opening next to the stone where the being sat moments before.

As I peered into the darkness, suddenly the same light inside the tomb almost blinded me and yet I could make out the forms of two men. They said in perfect unison, “Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive?”**

I’m not sure what happened, I might have fainted. And yet I was more rested and energized than I had ever felt before. I recognized the sounds of footsteps swiftly approaching. Uncertain about anything anymore, I tried to not think. I climbed around the rocks again and hid. Though they all talked at once, some of the voices sounded upset, like the people that had been here earlier.

I slipped a few more feet away as quietly as I could. And yet I no longer cared why. I felt so… so relieved. I began walking, barely feeling my weight on my feet. Once past the tombs and on the road, I turned toward home. I couldn’t care about anything I left behind. Lost in my thoughts about my new friend and all he told me, all I heard from people, I could hardly wait to tell the friend I’d missed all week all I’d learned about this Jesus that was crucified.

Sure, he’ll probably think I’ve lost my senses. I don’t care. This Jesus lives!

“Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!” Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

John 20:28, 29 (NIV)

*Matthew 28:5-7 (NLT)
** Luke 24:5 (NLT) Paraphrased with creative license

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Again; That Guy: Part II

Again I saw that guy. It’s like everywhere I go either he is nearby or I couldn’t help overhear someone that was obviously talking about him or something else he’d done.

I couldn’t forget the priests in the temple among the debris, the image stuck in my mind. It’s like an earworm, but irrepressible. I hate the way the image makes me feel fearful, and I’m annoyed with myself that it bothers me. I’m exasperated that I haven’t found my friend – we agreed to meet at the Temple Gate. All I want is to be ready for the Passover.

I couldn’t go a block without hearing someone talking about the incident at the temple. People seemed obsessed; both excited and upset. I actually heard someone say that guy touched some blind, crippled and terminally sick people who afterward could suddenly see, walk and are no longer sick at all. How could that be? I must get to my business.

Shortly after eating, I was walking off my meal when I saw the guy again – coming toward me. I wanted to turn and walk the other way – where that guy went there was trouble. But as if the air between us was charged with some peculiar energy that drained me of my will, I couldn’t move.

The guy was not exceptionally tall, but as he moved closer he looked straight through the crowd surrounding him, right into my eyes. All motion seemed to stop – I was captivated, as if his face drew me closer. I suddenly felt as if the guy saw my entire history, knew my unspoken thoughts. I again wanted to leave, but I couldn’t. Distinctively unnerved, I wanted protection from him. For an instant a notion to call for a guard briefly flitted across my mind – I am such a hypocrite.

The moments seemed like hours and then before I knew it he continued moving on with his group. Like an idiot I stood there until I realized people were bumping into me as they passed in every direction. I checked for my bag and feeling it there I started walking again, aimlessly drifting with the crowd.

Later, making my way back to the temple, I heard people saying, “Heaven… wind… light… and Jesus.” I honestly don’t know why, but I am entirely unnerved. I feel drained, exposed, and remarkably uneasy. I long to find my friend and secure a place to stay the night.

“…A person can receive only what is given them from heaven.”
John 3:27 (NLT)

Featured Image courtesy ABSFreePic

Originally posted on What’s Next on 2016 March 22

Response

I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back I now marvel over how quickly I’d reacted.

In the moments leading up to reaching my coffee pot I went from motivated to a mess. And I admit, I wanted a villain, someone to blame for my upset, let alone the difficulties that were certain to snowball.

Yes, friends, although I kept my bright red espresso grind coffee container out on the counter for two days – for the sole purpose of reminding me I must grind more coffee – that morning the stark reality that I’d entirely run out of coffee blindsided me.

It got worse. Not only was the strongest caffeine source in my kitchen some aged (however delightful) white tea, Deadline had advanced from the shadows of the cottage and towered over me, sword drawn over it’s obnoxious head. Annnd we had a villain …

Duh – duh – dunh.

This was quickly developing into one of those emotion/hormone-packed, full-on-drama mornings. I had already suspected that in hindsight I would wish to somehow erase it all from the eternal hard drive as if it never happened. A wise woman would have paused the whole day there. Not this one. Not that day.

Still, two mornings back I’d added coffee to my Needs Now List. For the subsequent forty-eight hours I planned my run to town between breaks and staring blankly into space. I try to economize wherever possible and make the most of the trip. This usually works very well. Until it doesn’t. Until that morning.

So, there I was, bravely forging onward sans caffeine, thinking I had a good handle on everything within my ken. Strangely predictably, it became the worst morning ever, something unexpected had happened. Forget happened – I felt like someone hit me across the abdomen with a five-foot long 2 by 4.

The car was gone.

Duh – duh!!  {Roo jumps behind the wall as if sensing a predator nearby, but seeing and hearing none, she then lets out a loud, agonizing shriek, “Why God? Why, without coffee?! scaring away any other life forms from the area…}  Okay, I sighed deeply but imagined screaming loudly.

Assumption:  Since Brother sometimes changes our arrangements, routines and moves things without telling me or giving me a heads up first. He took the car for the day without telling me.

The Lie: Brother doesn’t actually give a care about me.

Reality: The evening before Brother had used his vehicle (ahem, that he keeps mostly for my use), parked it in the back of the lot, and then forgot to press “send” after composing a text to me. Therefore, I didn’t receive his text advising me the night before.

Reality Check: Even though Brother’s mordant veneer momentarily confuses me and annoys me often (like most siblings I know), he also surprises me with thoughtfulness and sensitivity on occasion.

Granted, me without morning caffeine is scary, but it is not the end of life as we know it. Not hardly. However, for those few minutes that morning, before the exchange of texts set me back on track, I had wasted a morning’s worth of energy being extremely upset. A black hole sucked a huge chunk of my life away from us – over nothing.

Later, with a triple-shot/double vanilla latte in hand, I took a time-out with God. Deadline would just have to chill. After some needed time by the riverside I was actually glad for that wake up call.

Roo 1995 Columbia River

There God showed me that with my roots now beginning to unwind I have a better grasp of life than ever before. And yet, once a year  week  occasionally I jump to conclusions, assume the worst, and quickly follow with the big-ol’ lie at the core of it all that God really can’t care for me.

Silly ol’ Roo.

My eyes watered from what felt like a stinging punch in the face. Seriously, I checked for blood. Finding none, He then went on past my faults, deep into my needs. He showed me I have indeed come a long way in every facet of my life. Even so, I lived so long in darkness, ignorant of His love for me, we must also allow for time to adjust to light. Whatever my degree of healing, I was severely damaged back then and I am still quite human now.

He went on:

He noted how I now recoil far less frequently than ever before, that I now voice my upset feelings too – mostly appropriately. Then He assured me that some day soon fear, sorrow or anger will not overtake me with the mere thought of darkness. Then I’ll have learned to respond rather than react.

God says so. While I continue to trip up, and can’t feel it yet, I can believe it.

“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)

I can believe it for me as well as for my siblings, other brothers and sisters on their healing journeys.

Today you and I are the only ones to know how short-sighted and down-right silly I was earlier. Shhh…

“Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God’s glory.” Rom 5:2 (NLT)

Endless, by Mesca

Beautifully put thoughts by Mesca

Contrast, shadows Light and dark Nothing real, no substance or a spark Line connecting line Texture from divine  Creating in nothingness  Sometimes might lead to greatness.

Source: Endless

My Daily Delusion

The songs of loons on the lagoon gently draw me from sleep. My stretching body activates motion sensors and light begins to gradually radiate from the hand-carved crown molding of the luxurious room. The coffee machine quietly begins. I breathe in fresh air and the Italian roast-amaretto aroma as my feet touch the warm pile of sheep skins (synthetic, of course). Perfectly tepid air caresses my body as the eastern wall that are double paned folding doors. With a command the opaque glass becomes transparent, it perfectly frames the view of water reflecting pre-dawn stars crowning the treetops.

“Good morning Roo. What are your thoughts today?” the soft, baritone sound of Voithos, my humanoid personal assistant asks. After a pause, it suggests a passage of my previous night’s work, its choice based on my respiration, heart rate, blood pressure and body temperature. I look across the room to the smooth, warm wood of my immaculate desk and executive chair and sigh contentedly about where I’ll work again today.

“Good morning, God” are my first words. Then, “Voithos, narrate Chapter seven.” Immediately Voithos’ mellow voice (sounding remarkably like Sean Connery’s brogue), rises and falls with the latest chapter of my novel, the advance for which built this high-tech tree house. I glide across the room to the work station…

And now I’m awake from that dream world, reality rudely forcing it’s way upon me.

The neighbor dog’s obnoxious barking – yet again – shatters my lovely dream. I groan, having hours before rolled from my chair onto the foot of my bed, pulling grandma’s afghan partially around me and dozed on top of the worn comforter where I stopped. I begin to unroll, allowing gravity to pull my legs toward the floor after banging into the folding chair at my desk.

About the time I feel my feet beneath me, I am shuffling down the hall toward Mr. Coffee waiting on the vanity. As I once again long to afford the luxury of Keurig pods, I decide not to write again about the blessings and the evils of coffee, my primary vice.

Making out the outline of my phone on the other side of the counter, I press the speaker button and voice my next thoughts, “Okay Google, transcribe…”

The bleep-bloop tone tells me that my worn, dated device failed again – and I forget that inspiration. I pull my robe from the back of the door and slide it over my arms onto my shoulders, blotting the water from my hands on the robe. I stumble on the belt that was dangling across my legs and right myself while already lukewarm coffee sloshes over my wrist, I am now fully awake. I look out the door onto the balcony to see that the newly-formed pond remains where the street used to be. I consider the three previous days of relentless downpours and wonder if this is the day the fully saturated roof material gives way and crashes into the garage.

I sigh deeply, walking toward my bedroom. Diffused, gray light now oozing between the blinds, I grasp the cord, raising them until the line snags and stops the process. I sigh again and breathe in the cool, early morning air.

Turning and taking the seven light steps around the bed to my make-shift desk; a folding table upon which my laptop rests, ergonomically correct, on top of my printer. I bend to lift the pillow from the floor, set it upon the cold, metal chair, and sit. Setting the wireless keyboard on my lap and opening the new laptop, I thank God aloud for the gift from my son that delivered me to Windows 8.1 from the old laptop that takes a full seven minutes to start up.

As a siren sounds and I hear the engine undertones from the firehouse blocks away, I send up a quick prayer for the first responders and those they’re off to assist, as well as my firefighter/paramedic son and his wife, my soldier son, his wife, my third and fourth sons, their wives, the grand kids…

Opening my eyes, they scan over the documents saved to my desktop screen, the previous day’s work including today’s Writing 101 assignment. My heart rate increases and I smile. I sip. I want to meet my personal deadline that I moved up two days, to post early so I can then get to my email while the day is fresh. Hmm, where I write…

How do you design your work space? What would work better for you? What do you hope for in the future? I like new ideas. You can contact me below or visit Contact Roo in my Menu: https://roosruse.wordpress.com/contact-roo/

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