Showing posts from 2011

So Women Have No Rights?

A few months ago, a visitor commented, "So your [sic] telling me that you don't believe women should have rights? That we should just stay at home, bare [sic] children and have no options and let the man do the job even if he is a lousy breadwinner?" At first, I wanted to give the blog itself a chance to respond, hoping that the reader would find the answer to her question throughout the rest of the site, but then I realized I have no way of knowing if she ever found the answer she was looking for, so I am going to formally respond to it here. There are two ways I can answer the question as to whether or not women should have rights: Yes and No. Let's look at "no" first. NO, WOMEN SHOULD NOT HAVE RIGHTS I know we have some very astute readers who will point out to me a valid reason that women should not have rights, and so I know I cannot answer the visitor's question without first addressing that perspective here. Our insightful readers will na

Will Work for Food

O ne of the most common complaints I hear in the church today are those complaints against the local body in which we have been called. I began to touch on this a few months back with my thoughts in "Are You Fed Up With Your Church?" People always seem to have some complaint with their local body of worship, and threaten to leave if it doesn't suit their fancy. "There's no evangelism team here, so I'm leaving." "The worship style is not to my liking, and so I'm looking for another church." "I don't agree with the particular view that the elders have taken on the end times, so this will be my last Sunday at this fellowship." Of course, all of the people in these examples never claim that these are the sole reasons they are leaving their church. Instead, they give another reason for leaving -- one that I find entirely plausible. The number one reason that I personally have encountered as to why people leave their churches is t

I Don't Need a Man!

M y grandmother died on February 15, 2011. She was 91 years old. Our family had been preparing for this day since July 2010, when she first fell ill, and it was around that time I began to reflect upon her life. I thought about specific memories I have of her from my childhood. I also thought about little things I'd categorize as "Grandma Trivia." (For instance, she worked for many years as a seamstress in a factory.) But it wasn't until the actual funeral that I began to dwell on the manner in which my grandmother expressed her femininity, especially since she played the role of a single mom for 60 years. My grandfather left the family when my dad was three years old (1951). We always had contact with him, and he had a presence in our lives until his death in 2001, but he did not really have any type of real commitment to the family that required any responsibility. It was my grandmother who worked, raised three boys, cooked for her family and cleaned the home all


I recently adopted two cats from my local animal shelter. One was a rambunctious little kitten, the other was a two-year-old female Torbie for which I did not have a name at first. “No Name” was undeniably sweet, docile, and responsive to human attention. She also had a sadness in her eyes, as though she wanted desperately to be loved, but knew that she was unwanted. I don’t know exactly what it was about her, but I was drawn to her, and so I completed the paper work for adoption on January 1, 2011 – New Year’s Day. On January 4, I took my new cats home. I had to isolate them both from my existing cat, just to ensure that they were healthy, and so that my existing cat would not be overwhelmed by his new roommates. “No Name” was staying in my bathroom. She was coughing and sneezing, so I took her to the vet the next day, and began treating her with antibiotics for the cold. Over the next several days, I began to bond with this animal as I cared for her. She allowed me to do anything

God Our Refuge

T oday's topic weighs heavily on my heart. In fact it is a continuation of my last post simply titled "Fallow Ground". In that article I touched on how trials can lead to loss of expectations, cause us to slow our pace, and when we have been hurt there's a tendency to withdraw. As it so happened I was talking to a dear sister about this very issue which she also had been recently going through. It was a timely conversation and much needed time of fellowship. I have decided to share here what the Lord has shown me in order to bring help to those who are also experiencing any of the issues we have raised. It is discouragement which can also lead to hope deferred which "makes the heart sick", Proverbs 13:12. We don't have to go through some major trial to become discouraged. As I touched on before just our being weary of doing good can cause discouragement. It is discouragement which can also lead to hope deferred which "makes the heart sick",

Fallow Ground

”Sow for yourselves according to righteousness (uprightness and right standing with God); reap according to mercy and loving-kindness. Break up your uncultivated ground, for it is time to seek the Lord, to inquire for and of Him, and to require His favor, till He comes and teaches you righteousness and rains His righteous gift of salvation upon you.” Hosea 10:12 T he coming in of this new year I did not really celebrate. It was nice to be with family watching the fireworks and Chinese lanterns in the distance. But I set no resolutions, no new reading plan or had any sense of expectation. 2011 felt to me like just another year. Actually, to be honest, part of me just wanted to brace myself for more pain. So I guess there was one expectation . . . that of getting hurt again! However, deep down in my spirit I can sense something . . . something good! Before I touch on that however I need to lay open my heart. On New Year's Eve I found myself going to our fellowship to meet with the

Friendship: A Dose of My Own Medicine

O ver the years and most recently, God has allowed people in my life to mirror back to me the harshness I've dished out. When this happens, I am relieved at how suddenly I'm ready to DROP all pending cases of ongoing offense I argue in His court. I walk away from those encounters thinking, "Okay, this is what they were meaning about grace. Lord, is this how I made so and so feel?" Tonight, I came heart to heart with a wounded heart. One that looked and felt like mine not long ago. My heart is still hard, dark, and wounded, by the way, but these days I'm way more inclined to weep profusely in prayer (Praise God) about its poor condition than rationalize and defend it. Consider this malady called pride and a few of its choice manifestations. Not long ago, when I would be offended and had opportunity to vent my offenses, I proved harsh and ungracious--like the guy who was forgiven his million dollar debt only to choke the servant who owed him ten dollars.