NOW BLOGGING atSelahV Today HERE.
Other Blogs I write:
Please come by and visit.
I'd love to get to know you. May you find God's grace sufficient to meet your needs. SelahV
Monday, February 12, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
WOMAN OF MEANING
What is a woman today? Wife? Mother? Lawyer? Doctor? Teacher? Want to venture a guess?
What role are we to play in the Kingdom? How are we to assume our role? For what purpose did God create woman?
I look at my five granddaughters and my one daughter and wonder. Where is our world leading them? Where is the church leading them? I can remember a time when my father thought I should be a teacher. When I got married at the tender age of seventeen, he was so very disappointed in me. He never really got over that, either. Still talks about it today. I laugh.
I see women becoming people of notoriety which would never have been a thought in most women's minds when I was a child. As a teen, the subjects in school were geared toward women becoming secretaries or teachers. Most thought of being wives. Oh, there is the few liberal-thinking, progressive women of yore that forged the way for we women to do more than tat, quilt, can beans, garden, wash diapers and hang laundry on the line.
But I wonder how progressive we have really become. We have our fine pot-scrubbing dishwashers, our miracle-one-minute microwaves, our complete dinner in a tray, our babysitting Dish-satellite home entertainment centers, our wrinkle free clothes. In fact, fashion houses make material with wrinkles so we don't have to even worry whether our dresses are free of crimps at all.
We probably have more time-saving devices in this century than we have time to use them. In fact, I think that is the problem with being a woman today. We have no time. No time to reflect. No time to meditate upon the Word of God. No time to play with our children. No energy left for our husbands because we've spent the whole day pushing those time-saving devices and programing our lives to fit into a culture that demands women be more than women. Much more. We are to be men, too.
I have some lady friends who I admire so much. They are stay-at-home women. They have educations. They have skills. They have gifts. And they have talents. But they use them in service to the Lord and others. Their greatest joy in life is in being women of virtue. Known for hospitality. Encouragement. And servanthood to others. They are the backbone of society; they are volunteers. They have the greatest marriages. Their husbands respect them--sacrifice for them and validate their worth.
What is the place for a woman today? Home with the children? Homeschooling? Volunteering at schools? Driving kids on fieldtrips? Reading books to toddlers instead of plopping in a Veggie-Tale movie? Answering endless whys? Baking homemade bread? Being a helpmate to their spouse?
Or are we subject to society's whims? Is a woman's place no longer in the home but in the world of labor? Are woman to dominate the workforce and make equal pay for equal work? Are they to be the CEO's, the Deans, the Senators, the Speakers of the House, the Secretaries of Defense, the Presidents of the United States? The first woman who? Is that a woman's place?
I've been confused over this issue as long as I've known I was a female. Being raised with four brothers and a dominating, domineering father in a world of women in search of more than what my stepmother was, has caused multiple conflicts in my mind. Rising from childhood to womanhood in a time of Women's Liberation added to my confusion. Media, society and psychologists demanded a better way for women and women who wanted to stay home were shunned as insignificant bon-bon popping slobs. Not to mention ignorant. Then finally, women began leaving the workforce and going back to being homemakers. Homemaking became noble again. But the confusion is still there. The finger-pointing is still there. The guilt is still there.
I am a woman of meaning. I love being a wife, a mother, a grandmother and friend. I don't like the competition of trying to be more in the world than what I was created to be. That's just the way I am. And anyone is entitled to disagree with me. It doesn't bother me a bit. I'm next to certain that you won't lose a wink of sleep over my opinions.
I really don't think it's as important to know what it means to be a woman as being a woman with meaning. What do you think? What does being a woman mean to you? [copyrighted,selahv,2007]
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
A ROSE IS A ROSE
UNTIL IT HAS NO THORNS
All my roses have gone to bed for the winter. They no longer produce for me the lovely velvet petaled blooms. They no longer give their fragrance. Too bad. I enjoyed the blossoms.
Now I see the dead stumps I've yet to trim back for the winter. But will get to them this weekend. The thorns attached to the stems will not bother me for now. I have no reason to pick anymore roses.
I've decided to consult a specialist in roses. One who can tell me what to do about producing better varieties next year. One that can tell me how to prepare my soil and eliminate the varmits that serve to keep me from enjoying the beauty of the truest most beautiful roses. I found a blight in my variety.
I love all colors and had thought about getting a black rose. But I've already had one of those and am never going to get another. They give less beauty than one would think---even though they are different. So I shall stick to common varieties that flourish and enjoy the world I'm in without threatening to take over the rest of my garden.
And while the specialists do their job, I'll do mine. I will breathe rose-free air till Spring. There's alot to be done. That is what must occur in order to get those roses without thorns. And with the Rose of Sharon, there is no thorns either. He produces the best without the thorns. And I am grateful for His space in my garden. I pray He lives in yours. selahV
All my roses have gone to bed for the winter. They no longer produce for me the lovely velvet petaled blooms. They no longer give their fragrance. Too bad. I enjoyed the blossoms.
Now I see the dead stumps I've yet to trim back for the winter. But will get to them this weekend. The thorns attached to the stems will not bother me for now. I have no reason to pick anymore roses.
I've decided to consult a specialist in roses. One who can tell me what to do about producing better varieties next year. One that can tell me how to prepare my soil and eliminate the varmits that serve to keep me from enjoying the beauty of the truest most beautiful roses. I found a blight in my variety.
I love all colors and had thought about getting a black rose. But I've already had one of those and am never going to get another. They give less beauty than one would think---even though they are different. So I shall stick to common varieties that flourish and enjoy the world I'm in without threatening to take over the rest of my garden.
And while the specialists do their job, I'll do mine. I will breathe rose-free air till Spring. There's alot to be done. That is what must occur in order to get those roses without thorns. And with the Rose of Sharon, there is no thorns either. He produces the best without the thorns. And I am grateful for His space in my garden. I pray He lives in yours. selahV
Monday, December 18, 2006
UNJUST WAGES
I don't know about you, but I know a lot of people who don't get paid what they are worth.
Throughout my life, each job I held paid far below the amount most folks paid for the same position. But somehow, I survived.; God provided. And looking back I find that each and every job was preparing me for the next phase of my life. For that, there is no compensation.
As I watch people suffer around me, in a far worse situation than myself, I am reminded how truly blessed I am.
But on top of that, I am reminded that those who cause the sufferings, fears, injustice and pain for others will most certainly get their reward for their actions. The Lord says in His Word, that the wages of sin is death.
This sin may not bring death physically. But sin severs relationships. Sin destroys lives. Sin robs people of joy, peace and happiness. And sin will pay out what is due on pay day. Only God determines that moment. There is no doubt our sins will be found out. Even if we think we have hidden them well, they will be brought into the Light.
When Light penetrates darkness, what is unseen in the dark, is seen in the Light. While I don't want to see anyone punished, I don't want the unjust to go unpunished. I am grateful our Savior provides a way for us. I am grateful that Jesus can be better trusted to pay in full what I rightfully should pay and reward me for what little I may be due according to His riches in glory. Until then, I know who I can trust and most certainly who I cannot. Has something to do with discernment, I think.
In blogland, we face many many perils. Internet is both good and unfortunately very bad. There are those who lurk in the shadows of our typed letters and think their tracks are covered. They are not. They think no one is listening. They are wrong. They think no one is watching and no one will discover their evildoings. Some may feel they are righteous in their actions for some way they have been wronged. But that is a LIE. And when we buy into that logic, we are as bad as the evil one who we battle. Not in flesh and blood, but in realms, powers of darkness, and with principalities we cannot see.
The amazing thing is how God's voice thunders His warnings in the wee small hours of the morning. In the stillness of the night. In a whisper that will wake the dead. And when that voice speaks, His sheep know His voice and respond in obedience.
God is ever-present. Ever-watching. He neither slumbers, nor sleeps. He will protect and He will provide. And He will always, always pay just wages in every situation. And that is why I can sleep.
Throughout my life, each job I held paid far below the amount most folks paid for the same position. But somehow, I survived.; God provided. And looking back I find that each and every job was preparing me for the next phase of my life. For that, there is no compensation.
As I watch people suffer around me, in a far worse situation than myself, I am reminded how truly blessed I am.
But on top of that, I am reminded that those who cause the sufferings, fears, injustice and pain for others will most certainly get their reward for their actions. The Lord says in His Word, that the wages of sin is death.
This sin may not bring death physically. But sin severs relationships. Sin destroys lives. Sin robs people of joy, peace and happiness. And sin will pay out what is due on pay day. Only God determines that moment. There is no doubt our sins will be found out. Even if we think we have hidden them well, they will be brought into the Light.
When Light penetrates darkness, what is unseen in the dark, is seen in the Light. While I don't want to see anyone punished, I don't want the unjust to go unpunished. I am grateful our Savior provides a way for us. I am grateful that Jesus can be better trusted to pay in full what I rightfully should pay and reward me for what little I may be due according to His riches in glory. Until then, I know who I can trust and most certainly who I cannot. Has something to do with discernment, I think.
In blogland, we face many many perils. Internet is both good and unfortunately very bad. There are those who lurk in the shadows of our typed letters and think their tracks are covered. They are not. They think no one is listening. They are wrong. They think no one is watching and no one will discover their evildoings. Some may feel they are righteous in their actions for some way they have been wronged. But that is a LIE. And when we buy into that logic, we are as bad as the evil one who we battle. Not in flesh and blood, but in realms, powers of darkness, and with principalities we cannot see.
The amazing thing is how God's voice thunders His warnings in the wee small hours of the morning. In the stillness of the night. In a whisper that will wake the dead. And when that voice speaks, His sheep know His voice and respond in obedience.
God is ever-present. Ever-watching. He neither slumbers, nor sleeps. He will protect and He will provide. And He will always, always pay just wages in every situation. And that is why I can sleep.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
I AM WHO I AM
I have a dear friend who just had a facelift. Everyone's saying she looks wonderful. Not fair. I'm younger than her. Now she looks younger than me! LOL. So, since I can't afford a facelift, I decided on a nose-job! What say ye?
FOLLOW UP: I didn't get exactly what I wanted for Christmas the other day. But, my husband didn't have to dig a hole for a mailbox either. He bought one of those new-fangled jobs you pound in the ground and insert the post. KEWL thing! Love the advancement of man. And the good news is that I get to hint for another 6 days. Yep; he shops on Christmas Eve. Cracks me up. That's a man-thing! Well, not really. I think it is a gene-thing. Cause my daughter does that, too. She got it from her dad.
All this brings me back to the title of my blog today. "I AM WHO I AM." That is all I can be. God made me the way I am. Sorta. He wants me to reflect him in all I do and say. And this goofy face is not to be construed as a reflection of God in any way shape or form. But it does tell us that He loves us just as we are. And He will change us into the likeness of His Son...in His time, as He sees fit, the way He sees fit. And for now, He thinks I'm a hoot! [copyrighted, selahV, 2006]
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
BOYS WILL BE BOYS
AND MEN WILL BE BOYS TOO.
It's hard to be a man in a man's world. Men have different ways of dealing with each other...conversing. Even their analogies are different than women's. They are born to battle. To compete. To win.
They think differently, too. When I ask my husband a question, he almost invariably answers with a question. I find myself actually answering his question and never really getting an answer to mine. We laugh about it alot. Sometimes I say, "Can I ask you a question?" He replies, "Why, what do you need?" Lately, I start with, "Honey, I want to ask you a question, but when I do, I want you to answer the question with a yes or a no." He replies, "Why?" I begin laughing and he begins laughing and we know that it is because of the "trap syndrome".
All men have it. (Maybe I shouldn't say all, but from all the ladies I talk to? Most men have it.) They think anytime a woman asks a man a question that they are setting a trap. They think we are baiting them; that the first question is going to lead to a second. That the second leading to a "Gotcha!" It may stem from Eve giving the fruit to Adam and telling him to eat. After that, man could never trust a woman again, I guess.
This makes it really hard to communicate in a man's world unless one becomes like a man. Well, I've tried that too, but I don't like it. I don't like answering questions with questions. What if you ask the wrong question? Will you ever get the answer to your first question? It seems if one is to be part of a man's world, one must think like a man. But then we have another problem. Ego.
Men have bigger egos than women. They have a different kind of pride. We women have no pride. We get lost; we stop and ask for directions. We get sick; we go see a doctor. Our pride is in communicating effectively, nurturing effectively, and feeling right about what we feel right about. A man's pride often is in communicating to win a debate, avoid a debate, accelerate a debate or confirm they are correct in a debate. I might be wrong here. Just a woman's observations, ya see?
Anyway, most of my understanding stems from experience in trying to communicate with one of the most humble men on this earth for over four decades. It includes trying to win the approval or at least one word or phrase of approval from the highest authority of man given me before my husband--my dad. It includes surviving as the only girl among two elder biological brothers, one elder stepbrother, and one younger stepbrother. It includes multiple relationships with male step-cousins who inhabited the same house as I lived in for the majority of my teenage years. I also had the honor to raise a little boy through every stage of his life and watch him grow into one of the most loving, nurturing, boy/men I'll ever know.
So, I do have a bit of experience with communicating with boys, men and also, the inescapable inability to communicate on multiple occasions. I've also been afforded the grand prize of watching my stepmother's total failure at communicating anything she felt important. (Which after a spell, she felt nothing she had to offer was worthy of communicating, so she settled in to her sewing bench and used up millions of miles of thread to communicate with material.)
In this world dominated by men, and now infiltrated by women, I'm afraid some of us, who have timidly or boldly dared to venture beyond our sewing benches, are still talking with boys instead of men. This is the dilemma we ladies find ourselves in when trying to exist in the world in which some misguidedly say we are equal. Therefore we communicate as mothers to the boys, daughters to our husbands, and sisters to most of the men--and women only to women.
Describing the relationship a sister has with brothers provides more examples than this one blog could endure. Suffice it to say, I was forced to play centerfield without the benefit of a glove, pushed into more closets during games of hide-and-seek and left for hours so they could do what boys do--be boys. And lately, while I am finally beginning to meet some "real" men whose egos are firmly rooted in the security of their Father's Word, I'm also struggling to see my way out of this darn dark closet. And only a woman could relate to what junk is stored in here. [copyrighted, selahV,2006]
It's hard to be a man in a man's world. Men have different ways of dealing with each other...conversing. Even their analogies are different than women's. They are born to battle. To compete. To win.
They think differently, too. When I ask my husband a question, he almost invariably answers with a question. I find myself actually answering his question and never really getting an answer to mine. We laugh about it alot. Sometimes I say, "Can I ask you a question?" He replies, "Why, what do you need?" Lately, I start with, "Honey, I want to ask you a question, but when I do, I want you to answer the question with a yes or a no." He replies, "Why?" I begin laughing and he begins laughing and we know that it is because of the "trap syndrome".
All men have it. (Maybe I shouldn't say all, but from all the ladies I talk to? Most men have it.) They think anytime a woman asks a man a question that they are setting a trap. They think we are baiting them; that the first question is going to lead to a second. That the second leading to a "Gotcha!" It may stem from Eve giving the fruit to Adam and telling him to eat. After that, man could never trust a woman again, I guess.
This makes it really hard to communicate in a man's world unless one becomes like a man. Well, I've tried that too, but I don't like it. I don't like answering questions with questions. What if you ask the wrong question? Will you ever get the answer to your first question? It seems if one is to be part of a man's world, one must think like a man. But then we have another problem. Ego.
Men have bigger egos than women. They have a different kind of pride. We women have no pride. We get lost; we stop and ask for directions. We get sick; we go see a doctor. Our pride is in communicating effectively, nurturing effectively, and feeling right about what we feel right about. A man's pride often is in communicating to win a debate, avoid a debate, accelerate a debate or confirm they are correct in a debate. I might be wrong here. Just a woman's observations, ya see?
Anyway, most of my understanding stems from experience in trying to communicate with one of the most humble men on this earth for over four decades. It includes trying to win the approval or at least one word or phrase of approval from the highest authority of man given me before my husband--my dad. It includes surviving as the only girl among two elder biological brothers, one elder stepbrother, and one younger stepbrother. It includes multiple relationships with male step-cousins who inhabited the same house as I lived in for the majority of my teenage years. I also had the honor to raise a little boy through every stage of his life and watch him grow into one of the most loving, nurturing, boy/men I'll ever know.
So, I do have a bit of experience with communicating with boys, men and also, the inescapable inability to communicate on multiple occasions. I've also been afforded the grand prize of watching my stepmother's total failure at communicating anything she felt important. (Which after a spell, she felt nothing she had to offer was worthy of communicating, so she settled in to her sewing bench and used up millions of miles of thread to communicate with material.)
In this world dominated by men, and now infiltrated by women, I'm afraid some of us, who have timidly or boldly dared to venture beyond our sewing benches, are still talking with boys instead of men. This is the dilemma we ladies find ourselves in when trying to exist in the world in which some misguidedly say we are equal. Therefore we communicate as mothers to the boys, daughters to our husbands, and sisters to most of the men--and women only to women.
Describing the relationship a sister has with brothers provides more examples than this one blog could endure. Suffice it to say, I was forced to play centerfield without the benefit of a glove, pushed into more closets during games of hide-and-seek and left for hours so they could do what boys do--be boys. And lately, while I am finally beginning to meet some "real" men whose egos are firmly rooted in the security of their Father's Word, I'm also struggling to see my way out of this darn dark closet. And only a woman could relate to what junk is stored in here. [copyrighted, selahV,2006]
Thursday, November 30, 2006
THUNDER, LIGHTNING, AND CYBER-THIEVES
Last night the Lord shouted at me.
Yes He did! Thunder pounded like a base drum in the sky above my roof. Lightning splashed the blackened sky like paparazzi bulbs on Oscar night. I heard God as clearly as if I'd been sitting in the middle of the Atlantic ocean and penned Psalm 29 myself. "The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of Glory thunders, the Lord thunders over the mighty waters."{3. "The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is majestic."{4.
My windows rattled. Whipping winds tossed brittle leaves and ice against the panes. It was as if God were tapping with a whispered tone, "Hey, SelahV, let Me in. I want to share some thoughts with you." But I typed on. "The voice of the Lord strikes with flashes of lightning."{7. But I typed on. "Tap, tap, tap," my window-pane repeated. My fingertips paused; I thought for a while.
How great is my God. I love thunderstorms. I love lightning's panoramic display.
My daughter's dog whined and broke my reverie. She poked her cold nose on my bare ankle. She needed to go out. But she did not like the ice-ladened grass. Timidly she stepped as if walking upon crusted leaves was like thin ice on Moosehead Lake in Maine. I laughed. She was so comical. I wonder now, is that how God looks down on me when I'm afraid to walk on slippery slopes or unchallenged territory? He knows the ground is secure. The ice is but cellophane that He removes before I take a step.
Today I laugh again. For in my feeble attempt to post my blogs last night, some cyber thief snatched them up each time I hit "save or publish". Today I visited several blogs before I came to write. So many folks complaining. Their thought-filled posts had experienced the same fate as mine. How absolutely annoying. But oh so funny.
Amid today's lighted cloud-filled sky, ice and snow still falls in Oklahoma. Already today, I've tried to post. I've pushed the save and publish buttons. Gobble gobble crunch crunch were the silent sounds of my work being eaten and deposited into the cyber bowels of satan.
I got ticked for a few seconds, then laughed at how funny God is. I, in my finite self-filled humanity, thought I'd done something really grand, and God comes down and snatches it up before anyone ever gets a chance to read it. So do I get mad at my computer? My internet service provider? My electric company? Or my blogspot/google gurus?
Nay, none of the above. The sin of self originated with me and the Lord just purged my sweet adorable pride with a bit of cyberoptic humor. It's then I read the last line in Psalm 29 and I sat still and knew..."The Lord gives strength to His people; the Lord blesses His people with peace."{11. What joy is found in God's sense of humor! What peace His voice restores when thunder shouts and lightning clears clouds of night with the Presence of His Word. Pause, think on these things today, my SelahV [copyrighted, 2006, selahV]