A Book to Treasure

I say “Fie” on the present-day novels that have the reader wallow, descend with the author to lives of depravity, unhealthy introspection, obscure meanings, four letter words, explicit sex, and the worst scraping of the barrel:  hopelessness.  I say “Fie” because I have just been treated, elevated, gratified, and raised to beauty by an old novel loaned to me by Judy, my fellow author and dear friend. 

This novel I hold in my hands was written by a woman whose literary sisters and brothers might be L.M. Montgomery, Louisa May Alcott, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Jean Webster, Harold Bell Wright, and others...please contribute to this list!  This novel, The Keeper of the Bees, might be fairly called a sleeper in Gene Stratton-Porter’s long list of accomplishments.  Not to be found in the library, not a free iBook, not in my own personal pile stacked high with many of her books, dog-eared from rereading.  In this book I have found death to be beautiful, life to be treasured, honesty and care for others to be valued, characters to emulate, wry laughter to spice my day.  I’ve found the things I like best about a book:  an enthralling mystery, the captivating beauty of nature, a belief in God that wafts in enough places to pin everything together, and to cap it all off, the giant four letter word that today’s novelists are afraid to touch with a ten-foot pole:  Hope.

Search on with me, oh readers, who desire the best in life.

Celtic Blessing

If minds had shelves, mine would have several, freshly stuffed, with Celtic blessings. Here is one for today.

I am bending my knee
In the eye of the Father who created me,
In the eye of the Son who purchased me,
In the eye of the Spirit who cleansed me,
   In friendship and affection.
Through Thine own Anointed One, O God,
Bestow upon us fullness in our need,
   Love towards God,
   The affection of God,
   The smile of God,
   The fear of God,
   And the will of God
To do in the world of the Three....

Older with Grace

Today I saw an elderly man crossing the street pushing his shiny red
walker, stepping out into traffic as if he believed the cars would
stop.  They did...this time.  I imagined him as a young man in a shiny
red sports car, driving with confidence, top down, defying the wind
and weather, taking chances he probably shouldn't have, but enjoying
life to the full.  I have a friend, not so old, who now walks with a
cane, back bent with osteoporosis, a woman who in her younger years
had a busy life with children and a career, never imagining this day
would come so soon.  I guess we can't take anything for granted, for
this day may come to us all.  At 70, it may come to me sooner than to
you, faithful reader.   Don't forget we older people weren't always
the way we are now.  Remember us the way we used to be and shower us
with patience.  Even though we're slower responding and recollecting,
we're still fast at reminiscing!   And don't call us Seniors unless
there's a hefty discount to go with it!   My personal calling card
might read:  Silver-Haired Woman of Wisdom.  Have advice, will
impart.  Here's to growing older with grace and courage!   :-)

Growing Up

I've decided it's time.  Now that I'm 70, I've been reflecting on
entries made in my old journals.  Come to find out my thoughts and
questions haven't changed much through the years.  I'm stuck.  Stuck
asking the same questions over and over, stuck in my habits, actions
and expectations.  That is not a good thing!  I should be growing,
changing, making progress.  Maturing.  But it seems to be one step
forward and ninety-nine steps right back to where I started.  I don't
learn a thing!  My beloved children, now forty-one and forty-four are
more wise in their thinking than I am.  My daughter writes that God
doesn't disappoint us, only life's circumstances do.  Having been
turned down for a barista job a few months ago and now seeing the help-
wanted ad in the paper again, she says, "If only they had hired
someone not qualified, but dependable, I'd have learned what there was
to learn and they wouldn't be looking for help so soon!"   My son
writes of 'the comforts of decay' and the 'beloved ailments of the
elderly.'  He remarks that 'runners run to cope with life's
uncertainties and to make sense of the senseless.' 

I'd been thinking about all this before our sermon on Sunday.  Then it
hit me right between the eyes.  Forgetting what's behind, pressing on,
eating solid food instead of Similac.  There was a statement at the
bottom of the sermon notes asking what God is challenging me to do in
this area.  The answer was loud and clear:  Grow up, Judy.  Replace
doubt with trust once and for all.  I'm still the light for your path
and I'll be hiding you in the palm of my hand.  The choice is yours.  
The results are mine.

Mountain Fox

My mountain friend sent me this picture.  She feeds her fox friends from her fingers.  How different our viewpoints!

Outfoxed

We thought those darling baby foxes, the ones who wrecked my bushes and stole garden gloves and generally created havoc, had grown up, traveled to Longmont, forgotten us.  Not so.  Recently two of them (I'm sure they are the same ones because they nodded amicably to me) curled up in my side yard for long naps.  And yesterday one curled up under my Chinese cherry bush, right outside my study window.  Red and bushy tailed, and I know if I could touch him, he'd be soft as butter.  But what if he is a she and I have to face six more darling baby foxes, the ones....

Journal entry: April 4, 1987

Yes, indeed. 1987. I think this is just as true today as it was then. What do you think? 

I feel UGLY today. When I'm having an ugly day, do others see me the
way I see myself? Do they see the clothes I'm wearing make my face
look like a jaundiced map of China? Are they aware that my
fingernails haven't been filed, my nail polish is three weeks old and
I forgot my deodorant this morning? Are they conscious of the fact
that even the nice hot shower, mega dose of mascara and bright red
lipstick haven't helped? Do they realize I've been letting my hair
grow out for five months and I've resembled the flying nun when it's
down or a skinned onion when it's up in a ponytail? Does everyone
observe these things? Now that I'm having more than one UGLY day a
week, four days ago I had my hair cut and layered.

No one noticed.