Georgetownrose

from glory to glory…

Archive for the category “The Daily Post”

Theme, schmeme…

Blogging 101: Love Your Theme

Today’s assignment: try out at least three other themes — even if you’re happy with the one you first chose. Try one you’re drawn to, and one you would never use.

…More than enough is superfluous.

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Dream Reader, Where are You?

Blogging 101: Write to Your Dream Reader

“We are often like children skipping through the corridors of the kingdom, looking at everything, while pausing to learn the true value of nothing.” – A.W. Tozer

Dear Dream Reader,

You are sitting at your computer or laptop clicking away, searching social media or blog sites for something substantial to read: something to chew on, to provoke your thought, encourage, inspire you to persevere–reassure you that there are not just people but real humans at the other end of your communications device: a real human who doesn’t just write about him/herself; a real human who writes to include you and engage you through written posts–like messages in a bottle or letters you would find in your mailbox; a real human who doesn’t just harp on what you hear barking at you in the news and social media; a real human who speaks purpose and vision and reason into all the clicking and flashing traffic of the world web voices and images…

So I’m writing to you, Dream Reader, wherever you are. I am a human writer full of a lifetime of thoughts and encouragements to share with others. I am seeking a hungry reader who likes to read and values the moments spent engaging and being engaged in wise and edifying exchange with other writers through the printed word. Dream Reader, I know how to embed videos and photos in my posts as well as the next blogger; but you need no photographic or pictorial imaging experience. You do need an attention span long enough to absorb more than a nano-bit of information in one viewing.  You must be able to appreciate reading posts of all sizes and stay on track with serialized works. I need you to be willing to read posts which may not include videos or other visual images to catch your eye while clicking your way through the content. If you are the reader I hope you are, you would be willing to think through my posts making the best use of your God-given little grey cells, and dialog with me in a respectful, thoughtful responses…

And I say “dialog” because I will read your posts, too. Dream Reader, this is a two-way proposition…

I know you are out there in that sea of sentient humans. Dream Reader, please respond soonest…

And if you want something to consider before you respond visit some of the pieces found in the categories listed on the right of this page… May they bless you, Dream Reader…

It’s Not About Me…

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_assignment/blogging-101-introduce/

The Lord has appeared of old to me, saying: Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you. –Jeremiah 31.3

Funny the Blog 101 assignment would choose this to begin the new session. In the past 24 hours I had begun to consider sharing a bit more about what has influenced the content I share on a WordPress blog site. In my first “about” post, I concentrated so much on streamlining my introduction that I left out the fact that God used my childhood in Georgetown, DC to immerse me in a multi-ethnic, multi-racial, multi-cultural environment while being grounded from youth in Catholic spirituality…

Many might conclude that everyone who came out of Georgetown, DC is the product of privilege and affluence, but that was not the case in my life. As God saw fit, my parents were “immigrants” to the DC metro area from the Mid-west during WWII. My father worked in a Government facility which supported our US forces in the war effort, and he and our family were housed in Federally provided housing for war-time laborers leased on Jesuit property adjacent to Georgetown University. We were the Capital City’s “poor relatives” until the lease on the land expired in 1955 when the community of which I was a part in the first part of my life this side of Heaven was dismantled and scattered. God provided a house for our family in a working class neighborhood of Arlington County, VA which introduced me to new schools and a student population which was less diverse culturally and ethnically, and awakened me to the existence of others more privileged and affluent than me. We were now the “poor relatives,” in a growing, suburban post-war region…

Did I feel poor? Not so much in the material sense; but I always felt left out–like a stranger–on the outside looking in. None of that feeling was because my shoes and clothes were second-hand or home-sewn. The poverty I felt was an insatiable desire to be loved and wanted by the father which God ordained would be my earthly dad. My mother loved me in a thousand ways which will be topics of other posts. For this moment, what is essential to say is that I was born with a God-shaped hole in my whole being which took a long time to be filled, and in perfect timing.  I can only say, as I reflect on that difficult passage in this life God has given me, that God must have wanted me to turn to Him with all my heart first and foremost. I believe–and not without evidence to the facts–that God left me unsatisfied by anything earthly so that He could show me His own extraordinary capacity to be both Master of all creation and supremely intimate Lover of my soul.  He used my exposure to Catholic liturgy to draw me back from the brink of despair to be reborn and filled with assurance of life and love and purpose…

God didn’t satisfy my appetite for being loved and wanted by my dad, even though before he died my dad voiced his thanksgiving that I was around to help him get through the hardest time in his life–his dying days. But for the grace of God, neither one of us could have foreseen the work and purpose of God brought to fruition in those two years of our relationship.  I could not have ministered to my dad if I had not already experienced the love of God as my eternal Father through faith in His Son Jesus Christ. Indeed, I could not have known any mercy without the love of God as my eternal Father drawing me to the Arms of the Lord Jesus Christ…

Now, I write about Him and the LIFE He has given me in Jesus. By the power of the Holy Spirit  He has poured the exceeding riches of His grace into me. Why would I keep silent with so great a Salvation filling and satisfying my being in all kinds of circumstances–in tears, in laughter; in joys and in sorrows; in the painful and the pleasant; in the comfortable and the unsettling? That would be like a doctor withholding the cure for cancer from a dying soul…

Now, I need to insert this into my original “About” post…

All Because of Christ…

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Alphabet Soup.” Write down the letters of the ABC. For each one, choose a word that begins with that letter. Now, write a post about anything — using all the words you’ve selected.

Trying to put a series of coherent thoughts together today is like fishing for words in alphabet soup. My little grey cells have been so busy of late, processing information by the boatloads, from appointments on my calendar, blog readings and responses, online merchandise orders, and credit card statements, to Bible-study content questions, and everything in between… and struggling to keep up…

In truth, I am overwhelmed and Aggravated By the Cacophony going on in my head. I am a person who likes order; I like my thoughts to yield to my direction for orderly expression. Not getting much cooperation on that score at present. So I am focusing on what is primal in my grey cells–no documentaries, no attempts at story creation or artistry which evades my grasp just now…

So when a good scout finds herself in confusing territory, she pulls out her compass and looks for True North. From there, All Believable Charting for direction can be found. Taking that wise Advice, Benefit, and Counsel, I fix my attention on True North during this season. The ABC’s of it all–Amid the Bounty of Celebrations, is remembering my Lord Jesus. Without Him I would be–to add a “D” word to this piece–DESOLATE..

There would be no Advent light during the dark and cold nights leading up to the shortest day of the year in the northern hemisphere; there would be no Breathtaking Beauty at the remembrance of His exquisite perfection, His mercy and His love for me; there would be no Comfort, Consolation or Courage to walk Amid the Battling Cultural influences swirling like a raging blizzard all over this planet…

wordpress puzzle

Without the Lord Jesus, my King, there would be an Absence of Blessing, and Contentment in the gracious provision of God for life; Adversity, Brutality and Confusion would be the rulers of this world. The Adversary of God would Beat out his own Contrary Discord without impunity or restraint…

All Because of Christ, I enjoy the ABC’s of Abiding Beneath Christ’s sovereign care, resting my brain in the protection of swaddling clothes as He prepares me for uttering something of the Abundance of Blessing Credited to my life–All Because Christ Jesus Is King…

Dreams of Middle Earth: What might have been…

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/fourth-wall/

You get to spend a day inside your favorite movie. Tell us which one it is — and what happens to you while you’re there.

I woke early at the sound of the morning bell; the days are beautiful and fair in Rivendell. Here, except for the wisdom of the ages shared with us in the stories of Arda and Middle-earth, one would think—unwisely so—that the whole world is as fair and beautiful as life is here in Rivendell…

I am Thenidiel daughter of Voronwé and Idhrenniel. I am Elven, and today in Rivendell a council is convening within the hour. My father and my mother will attend as witnesses to the discussions and decisions. My father Voronwé has thought it wise that I should listen and observe, for this council will be like no other ever called by my elders. This will be a very grave and secret council—a council which will decide a mission and consider its emissaries. Their charge will be to destroy something of immeasurable and terrible power over every living soul in Middle-earth…

Of my Elven race officiating and deliberating at the council were Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel, wise staff of Elrond’s house; Legolas, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, and Galdor messenger of Cirdan. The envoys among men were two: Boromir son of Denethor, steward of Gondor, and Aragorn known to men and Halflings as Strider of the Rangers. Of the Dwarves present were Gloin, seeking the whereabouts of his brother Balin who had been in the mines of Moria; and Gimli, warrior son of Gloin. Gandalf the wise of the Maiar informed all present of the danger to Middle-earth in Saruman’s treachery. Ambassadors of the Halflings of The Shire were Bilbo Baggins and his adopted nephew Frodo Baggins. I saw another there, crouching in the shadows, observing all that was undertaken in the council. My soul learned immediately that his heart was burdened for the welfare of another. I followed his gaze and saw that, from his shadowy corner, it was fixed on the Halfling with shining eyes, dark of hair and fair of countenance. As my own gaze rested upon him, Master Frodo Baggins, I was immediately drawn to him; for he carries a burden so great I can feel it in my own being. He looked up for a moment, seeming to know that the eyes and the heart of someone were watching vigilantly, standing guard for him. When he noticed me standing quietly watching all the renowned guests being welcomed by Elrond and his court, I saw into the depths of his soul and all his longings. His eyes did not drift away from my gaze; we were locked in an ethereal embrace for what seemed an eternity. I saw his heart and shared mine with him for that one moment, both of us sealing a covenant to meet again before the company was dispatched to the duties ordained by the council…

 I listened and watched the story unfold before me, although it seemed as if I had already known it from long ago. I felt the weight of the fear of the power of this object should it be used in the hands of the adversaries of Eru Iluvatar. That was the ancient rebellion of ages past, mocking Iluvatar’s beauty and the lyrical music of His Ainur. One must go and destroy the power of the adversary Morgoth and his vassal Sauron. That one must bear the terrible burden of the Ring to the rim of hell, the Mount of Doom; there he must part with the terrible thing with all its temptations to be subject to its power, and resisting all, must cast it into the fires of Mount Doom to be consumed by the very fires and darkness from which it was created. Other valiant Men and Elves of ages past were entrusted with this task and were eaten alive by the lure of the powers they thought they would possess in the keeping of this fragment of hate and blasphemy against Eru Iluvatar. In one age, after the ring was long forgotten, a Halfling, Deagol by name, who loved to fish in the rivers of the Shire, captured it by accident on the end of his fishing line. His friend Smeagol was jealous for the shiny trinket, and in his jealousy murdered Deagol, hid his body, and doted upon the precious thing, discovering its powers to make him seem superior to all around him. It ate him alive, driving him into the depths of the earth to shelter it and guard it from being taken from him, only earning for himself the name of Gollum; for Smeagol had become a gulping, grasping creature doomed to a deviant and tortured life of wicked treachery, always fighting down the once noble thread from which he was originally woven. Master Bilbo Baggins had seized the thing from Gollum’s grasp in his encounter with him in the caves on the way to Erebor. Bilbo’s part in that mission was to help the Dwarves regain their rightful home and treasures taken from them by the dragon Smaug when he destroyed Laketown and captured Erebor for his own malevolent residence.

Hours passed as I waited to see how the council would rule. Finally, all agreed that one must go, but the question remained, “Who will go?” When the midday bell rang for the meal, the fair one with raven hair and shining eyes spoke, saying, “I will go.” It was then I knew he must have a helper, someone who would give him hope and courage to live when all the evil of Mordor stalked him to prevent his chosen task. How would I persuade my father to give my hand to Frodo in marriage when he appeared to be a mere Halfling and beneath the Elven race? I have lived long in Rivendell in this world of Middle-earth, but never have I seen one which so captivates my own soul. He appears young and yet has a bearing as old as Rivendell itself. I knew before the council did that his companion in the shadows would go with him to bear Frodo up when his body weakens from the weight of the burden and the assaults contrived against him by the emissaries of Sauron. But he would need the songs of truth and faith to resonate in his mind and heart—songs my soul entwined with his would sing to him across the distances on the cold stoney mountain passages, in the deep tangles of the woods, across the open plains under the predatory gaze of the eye of Sauron and his minions. He must have a home for his soul where it may rest and draw him back from the contest which will restore peace to the world of Middle earth. I want to be that home for his soul; it is to this hour I was born. I was to learn very soon how inseparable two souls can make a mark on the events in the world…

 At the afternoon meal, he came to talk with me, the one whose soul now was entwined with mine. We needed no long words, for every bit of our lives seemed knowable to one another without them. He knew my own desire and shared it, but with hesitation to bind me to the mortal life and then to wait while he fulfilled the duty he had vowed. As I gazed steadily and passionately into his shining eyes, I told him that the matter of my mortality is mine to decide, knowing completely its blessings and its consequences. I explained to him in earnest that for me waiting would not be as it would be for a Halfling wife. I would tell this to my father and my mother. I would tell them that my heart and my soul would always be following him, knowing things of his trials which only an Elven wife could know. I would persuade them that my songs of healing would come to Frodo in times of his deepest trouble, and still my own life would be safe from the eye of Sauron. These would be dreams no palantir, no seeing stone, could invade or snatch away from us…these would be silver threads of truth and faith and undying love, keeping Frodo’s heart safe from deception and despair…and he, with Samwise, would prevail; he would come home…we would face life in Middle-earth inseparably. We would give our dear ones another generation of offspring who know truth and honor and love. I would persuade my mother and my father to neither deny us this purpose nor deny themselves the joy of its fulfillment…

 As quickly as our meeting began it was over. Frodo’s heart was full of longing, and he vowed another vow. He took my hand in his and in his steady, shining eyes I saw the burden which he carried lift. His countenance shown as brightly and lovely as any Elven son. Almost breathlessly, and full of tenderness, he whispered that he would take me as his wife if I persuaded my mother and my father of the blessing our union would bring…

 We looked up and saw the thoughtful Gandalf sitting across the courtyard from us; Samwise was nearby, having been exposed as a secret observer to the council, driven by his friendship with Frodo to learn of the matters which would touch his friend’s life. Both were watching with a mixture of curiosity and some wonderment. My own mission had now begun; at the recess of this council, I would be seeking a council with my elders, a Maiar and a Halfling to cast the vision shared by Frodo, the valiant Halfling and an Elven daughter of wisdom and healing…

…An excursion into “The Fellowship of The Ring”

Clearing the deck…

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/sweeping-motions/

What’s messier right now — your bedroom or you computer’s desktop (or your favorite device’s home screen)? Tell us how and why it got to that state.

Funny you should ask. Very timely…

My blogging efforts for the past week or so have abandoned the laundry basket and the little heaps of papers and resources I have kept digging about to consult. The piles on my work space at my computer have kept growing, spilling over to other places in my blogging/crafting studio and beginning to form other towers of neglected matter. All the while in the back of this mind which prefers order, I have made mental notes of warning to prioritize managing them. Even as I write there is a load of laundry in the washer waiting to be moved to the dryer to make way for the next load to wash…

Don’t think I am blaming this wonderful activity of writing for my derelict behavior to put things where they belong and take a maintenance break. It’s all my procrastinating fault. Somehow, stopping in the middle of a cogent thought worthy of blogging to sort through my little messes is too unsettling; it’s disturbing, in fact. I regard the demand to keep everything neat as a pin as an unwelcome and rude intrusion on my thoughts at a time in my life when I feel it is far more important to communicate and engage others than to excel at neatness…

Pat-officeBut there is a limit. At some point the mess becomes an impediment to my ability to think and to work; it’s like loud, cacophonous noise. My little grey cells are allergic to confusion and chaos and their “flight or fight” response to these adversaries of thought  is always “flight.”

Almost instinctively, considering I might be accountable to others this morning for my neglect, I put my hands to work to sort through the accumulation to file and discard; to sort the laundry and order it for the day between my errands and blogs entries…

Now it’s time for breakfast. My little grey cells are going to go get fed–in an orderly kitchen… 🙂

May all my reading friends out there in the big wide world find a bit of order in all the messiness of this world. Blessings all around.

Grist for the blog mill for another month…

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_assignment/blogging-101-next-30/

Writing what is going on in my head is not as easy as thinking about it. I have not been one to easily come up with a nicely ordered commentary on any given subject when it is something of a compulsory exercise. While my life in general is more ordered, my musings and ponderings are not–I “color outside the lines” in my head. This is not to say that I shun discipline; I actually gravitate toward it, because I know that the only way to use all that rolls around in this head of mine is to subject it to some studied scrutiny and consider how to make it constructive for others who may be wrestling with or laughing about similar facets of life on this planet.

Having said that, by way of a procrastinator’s introduction, the next 30 days present a myriad of things about which I know I will probably be expressing encouragement, praise and testimony.

Finishing my series on Camping with God in the wilderness: two more posts

A linked follow-up on another blog friend’s post about her “Where were you on October 2, 1998?”

The flu shot… (hope it’s only one post) :-/

The 50,000 mile pre-winter car service experience…

The sisterhood of the travelling prayer shawl project…

Waterproofing and foundation inspection of our condo experience…This may make for several posts. I can anticipate the fodder coming out of this experience, ranging from dealing with the mud heaps outside our windows to all the unexpected and interesting challenges…

Shorter days, longer nights…

The patio gardener series: getting ready for winter…

Worshipping God in two liturgical circles: another feature in my “Treasures both new and old” category

Possibly some insights coming out of my journals with my Bible study group

Aging without shame: Finishing well… A new category… That’s fodder for a bunch of continuing posts…

I’m mulling the possibility of a video blog just for fun. I’m open to ideas for that…as one of my blog friends says, a bit of sass and a lot of class… maybe a flashback to my first dance lesson, or my first piano recital 🙂

I want to get some music into my blogs, too. There are themes in music which trigger verbal expression…

That’s enough thinking ahead for now. I want to leave room for something more spontaneous or follow-ups  follow up on other friend’s posted topics…

Blessings to every blogger out there in this big wide world today. It’s time for breakfast and spending time with my very patient husband…

A verbal interlude… (or write, already!)

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_assignment/writing-101-free-write/

It has been a day or two since I last posted. I was not feeling well that day and posted my experience of strengthening by trusting the Lord for His strength. In the interlude between that day and this one, I have been studying my writings on the Feast of Tabernacles. I have been wanting to post the edited and refined content that would fit well with the Word Press formatting. That has occupied a good measure of my writing time the past two days. I am glad to say that, as I am reviewing what I had recorded so many years ago on the subject, is touching me again in new ways. I look at things I have written from so long ago and wonder who wrote it? I cannot believe these things came out of this person’s being. After all, I am only a housewife, although a fairly well-read housewife, and one having had an extraordinary measure of time to deeply delve into Scriptural history. I used it all for many years in the education of children and their families in my Messianic congregation and also in my non-denominational Christian church settings…

(I am not looking at my feet or twirling my hair and staring out the window on this exercise…)

So I thought it would be nice to merge some of the facets of the lesson materials I wrote for the classroom and some other commentaries which I wrote for a discipleship manual to help new Jewish Christians understand that they are still Jewish believing in Jesus…

As I sit here, trying to meet the quota of 400 words for this exercise, I am reminded how easily my words flowed to the paper when I was writing these lessons on the Feasts. There is a certain excitement and joy at the realization of how marvelous it is to enjoy a feast which honors and magnifies the beauty, grace, authority and majesty of God, especially through His provision of feasts which fit perfectly into the seasons of the year–at least in the Northern Hemisphere. Add to that the shadows of the Messiah so richly planted in each of the feasts, and the historical fulfillment of them–save one–in Messiah Jesus, and you have the fuel which drives a heart in love with God to type as fast as she can on the blank page for hours and hours. (Believe me, my husband knows.)

So, fellow journalists, whatever is prompting and provoking you to share your thoughts, remember that there are people out here who are hungry for encouragement in a world that cannot get enough of it. Hopefully, my words here–random as they are–will encourage somebody among you. Stay tuned for more “Treasures both new and old” and another installment covering the Autumn Holydays. The next one will give an overview of the Feast of Tabernacles (Sukkot).

 

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