Who can truly predict the heart and its leanings?

As shock and adrenaline wear off I am faced with a bitter void in my chest.

It is okay to weep, shake, and sink into reverie.

I am not bereft, as I have a foundation of God’s Word. Jesus is my rock, my solid footing. I may fall to the darts of evil, but I have this foundation under me that’s immovable.

This existence wears heavy on me, I look to the millennial kingdom more and more each day.

But I must live the appointed days despite my heartache.

For the past few weeks I’ve been quiet. I have so many things to process in my heart and mind. My soul has reached a different stage of grief and loss. I am learning to let go of everything but my faith in Christ, cost what it may.

Do people really realize how fragile they are?

I can begin to understand loss without God, but I would never want to experience that. The mind seeks solid footing like water. It flows downward to find that stable footing. My mind has toyed with God’s existence.

He is, after all, beyond our senses.

I see the kingdom of evil flourishing all around me and I must trust that God is really in control.

He is.

God is the sovereign power of my knowledge. I must submit my will and mind to Him alone. His rules.

My ideas are nothing. Satan would like for me to believe that I can manufacture a truth within myself, but it is pointless. I must submit to the One who Created All.

—Whether I like it or not.

I’m so tired of the attacks, the conjecture, the rebellion. I’m exhausted.

So I know that in these last days the only thing that I can do is pray and trust, read my Bible and speak it.

The Word is powerful, a two-edged sword.

Let its power do the drawing, the wooing. The Word alone (one little word) can smite the devil.

As I hear reports of people “falling away” I know within myself that they never accepted the Truth. They held a piece of their own idolatry within their spirits, and never let it go.

One must accept the truth.

One meets that in loss with more poignant clarity. I know now deeper.

The cost is great, the sorrow is painful, the waiting is exhausting.

It is time to reject the old self, dear one, the one that died with Christ. It is time to be born again.

When we are gone from this earth, with the Lord, our dear ones who never submitted to the Creator will mourn us. They will begin to know this pain.

Or will they be temporarily relieved?

My grief seems to be never-ending, I see no end in sight for it today. It just feels like a darkness, therefore I call it infinity, a ceaseless cycle. Stages are for psychiatrists, but today it is infinity.

Bear the pain.

Preach the Word.

Embrace the rejection.

Hope in Christ.

It is all that we have when everything is stripped away.

Hope. In Christ.

Maranatha

Ed is learning Japanese. He has dabbled in Russian, Esperanto, and German. He loves language (he should be a linguist!) but he is studying computer engineering. His interest in languages is purely recreational.

It is interesting to dabble in a language. I, too, dabble. I have a pretty good ability to communicate in German. I’m reading the Bible in Spanish right now (and learning a lot!) and I studied Turkish over the years.

I love it that my kids are also interested in languages. We talk about the Tower of Babel around Corgi Hollows. We talk about cultures and tribes, the dispersion of peoples after Noah’s flood. We like that sort of thing.

We talk about culture, the nations, diversity—all things that God has made. We talk of how cultures develop philosophies and ethics. We talk about climate and how it affects culture.

This week we have been chatting about Japanese and Protestant work ethics. They are based on different premises, but they result in productive society as far as work is concerned.

Japanese work ethic seems to derive from a concern about personal reputation and bringing honor to one’s family. The Protestant work ethic seems to come from a different focus.

Recently I read somewhere that the reason socialism works in Scandinavian countries is the deeply ingrained Protestant work ethic established there during the Reformation.

The bitter climate is a good work motivator, too. One must prepare for cold weather.

I would also surmise that the expectation of the Rapture, the coming of Christ suddenly, is also a factor in work ethic. We believers in Jesus are admonished to get our house in order, to be ready for His return at any moment.

This translated into an obsession with keeping your house CLEAN.

How many protestant housewives keep a squeaky clean house?

I know that my Scandinavian heritage demanded I keep a house “perfectly” and I have failed there. I do keep house, just not perfectly.

My work ethic has forced me to keep my schedule with my jobs throughout my life adjustments. It has made me get to the YMCA to swim. It has made me get up from bed in the morning and start the dishwasher when I feel like staying in fetal position.

It’s a good thing, overall.

I am convicted about being ready, getting my house in order, and encouraging my children to do the same. The work ethic is real, and it is a good thing. It has a hopefulness.

Jesus is coming. The King is coming.

Rapture ready!

I have been brought to a season of quiet.

This type of quiet spirit is coveted in believers, and it is interesting to observe. My mother talks about it all the time, as she recognizes her own lack of it. When we do not have a quiet spirit it torments us.

We project that torment onto others, too.

What is a quiet spirit? Is it serene? Is it smiling? Is it at rest?

I’ve come to the conclusion that it is having no expectations, no striving, no malice toward others. As I grieve my own losses I am aware that my spirit can still be quiet. My countenance has nothing to do with my spirit, yet it reveals the pain of suffering.

In acceptance lies peace. (Hannah Hurnard)

When we accept God’s lot for us we have peace—-quiet.

When we stand on the promises in God’s Word we come to a place of quiet.

Last fall in one of my classes my professor probed me about my hopes and dreams. He is one of those scholars who puts much stock in the touchy/feely/relational sort of teaching. I looked at him through the computer camera and wept. I could honestly say that all my dreams were gone, that my only hope was in Jesus.

Do you know what it is like to lose all your dreams?

I do.

It is a place of quiet.

Elisabeth Elliot had a phrase, “Do the next thing.”

That ran through my mind the very day my cell phone rang with the New Hampshire Officer telling me that my husband had passed away on the Appalachian Trail. “Do the next thing.” In shock, I did that.

Even now, as I remember that horrific moment, I felt a peace and quiet in my heart that only comes from Christ.

I’ll confess that I was still hopeful that the Lord would just bring my husband back to life miraculously. I do believe in the supernatural. Coping mechanism? Why not?

The Holy Spirit is a presence in my life, and He is the reason I could “calmly” do the next thing. I take no credit. My spirit did not factor in.

A quiet spirit only comes from God. When you are seeking a quiet spirit you cannot look within yourself. You are unable to manufacture one. How can quiet come from within your sinful self? The Buddhists strive for Nirvana, but it is all just an illusion.

Reality is peace in Christ alone.

In the grasping for inner peace humans try all sorts of fake solutions.

There is only one true solution: Jesus Christ.

As Jesus says: the way is narrow and few find it.

Are you on the way?

So, we had a new roof put on in December, actually it was put on over the holidays, with about 14 days of work, give or take, from the 23rd of December to the 4th of January.

Guess what? The crew had to shovel snow off of the roof TWICE in order to put the new roof on. The old roof was 30 years old, and the sub roof was completely rotten in places.

High adventure in the freezing cold of Minnesota!

Well, needless to say, although the crew gave clean up the college try, I am out there now after snow melt picking up tons of trash, nails, ripped up shingles, and You-Name-It.

My gratitude for a new roof offsets my irritations.

I am so thankful for it.

The other had had hail damage, all sorts of issues. I am happy to be under a safer option now.

I don’t mind listening to the blue birds, the robins, and the frogs down in the pond either. It is good to be outdoors this time of year. We need the sunshine and fresh air. The peace heals my broken heart.

I do resent the pair of Canada geese that loudly announce their presence on the pond. They make a racket, for one, and they remind me of my soft heart—-

Canada geese mate for life. I have seen a grieving goose by a road-hit one too many times. They tend to stay and grieve for awhile, and I can’t take it.

I’ve always been tender toward animal behavior that shows loyalty or intelligence. This is one reason I look forward to the millenium so much. I cannot wait to enjoy God’s creatures there.

So, as this pair (which I am pretty sure was here last year) settles in to raise their goslings I am rudely reminded of my own loss.

You marry for life.

My parents are coming up on their 65th wedding anniversary. I had fully expected to make that event with my husband.

I’m not going to.

I will see him again, that is for sure. Right now I have to face a lonely outlook. I’m the goose by the side of the road. I’m looking a little lost. I’m trying to make sense of the situation.

Still.

I may honk a bit in frustration. That seems to be my modus operandi since Brian went to be with Jesus.

Life is hard.

I know it is good, but it is hard.

Come, Lord Jesus!

MARANATHA!

I have not been watching the news. It’s so depressing. I heard about the tanker that blocked the Suez canal. I hear about vaccine ids. I read about the reactions to vaccines.

For the most part I look out the window at the sun in the morning and immerse myself in the Scriptures and the fellowship of like-minded believers.

It takes courage to buck the world, but the joy in Jesus is worth it all.

I know that the divisions of this past year—-the scourge and politics— impacted all of us, some more than others.

I’m trying to see this in a positive light. Learn from my wrenching experience.

I have had the leitmotif of grief and loss overarching politics and the scourge. It gives perspective.

I do think you are absolutely crazy if you think mRNA is going to solve your problems. I think you have a death wish. Really. That is your decision, but I think you are nuts.

I will love you anyway.

I think you are absolutely out of your mind to like a president who has dementia. I think you are crazy to love socialism or communism. I think you have lost your marbles if you justify abortion in any way. (Even in vaccines)

I think you are out of it.

There’s the definition. We are not on the same page when you have submitted to the globalist agenda of being vaccinated.

We’re not in Kansas anymore. The elites have been tightening the noose gradually and indoctrinating the masses of sheep via the media, and too many people (that I know personally!) have bowed to the god of this world.

Thankfully my parents and my kids are still holding to a higher power.

Our days our numbered by God alone. Not a vaccine, not a disease, not war or crime. God alone.

Too many have lost that truth in their lives. Those who chose to bow to the elites and their agenda may have a reckoning of sorts. Jesus said, “Do not tempt the Lord Thy God.”

We all can make stupid decisions.

Better to trust the God who made our DNA, our genetic make-up.

I have seen the damage. I have also seen medical successes.

The trials for the current “vaccines” are over in January 2023. You are now an official experiment if you have been “vaccinated.” This mRNA injection is not a vaccine, per se, it is a nanoparticle containing messenger RNA to rewrite pathogens from your cells.

Just do a gnat’s eyelash of research.

I guess too many people are JUST LAZY.

(Sloth)

It IS easier to turn on the news and listen to the Spiel. Indoctrination is powerful.

The division that is happening is about to get Biblical: Wheat from Tares, Goats from Sheep, Good Seed from Bad.

Hunker down, fellow believers. Jesus will see us through this.

You don’t need a vaccine. Your immune system + ivermectin, or other prophylactics will do JUST FINE.

I had the scourge in March of 2020. I got my sense of smell back in September. I take Ivermectin every time I get a slight cough now. My immune system is handling the scourge pretty well.

My aged parents are also doing well minus any outside help.

I lived and worked in the petri dish of humanity, doing stranger’s laundry at the hotel—cleaning, etc. My immune system (with Jesus) has been enough.

I’m truly sorry for you if you have had the jab. I don’t relate to you on a deep level anymore because I know you have bowed to the gods of this world.

More division. More loss.

Those who are awake knew this was coming. It’s still heartbreaking to see it happen.

I think there are many people still clinging to this life more than the one to come.

For me, no compromise.

Maranatha!

One thing about Veggie Tales that I recall from listening to the song tape was the one about the water buffalo.

Everybody has a water buffalo—

There is always something that is in our thought process that we want to keep that doesn’t line up with the Word of God.

I know this. The process of stripping everything away from my life —husband, brother, dreams, plans, (the list goes on…)—has made me see the purity of God’s promises in a clearer light.

He will never leave me, nor forsake me.

I bet some of you think He is punishing me. I understand. I’ve asked the same question. Why did so much go crazy “wrong” over the last two years?

He’s refining me. Punishment? Perhaps. I am a sinner. I do not justify my sins at all. I know them, confess them, turn from them daily and seek God’s face to help me overcome.

I sin.

Jesus paid for my sin on the cross. I do not want to sin that grace may abound. I want to live a life that is pleasing to my God.

The refining fire is rather hot lately. Suffering is the name of the game. Why, Lord? How long?

How long?

I’ve held to some “water buffaloes” over the years. They are really hard to give up, even when Scripture contradicts them on the face.

For me the biggest one was evolution. I had to face that the creation account in Genesis was real and true. This evolution water buffalo, when pitched out, completely redefined my worldview.

I was a Christian, but my worldview was not Biblical.

Now I have a Biblical worldview and other water buffaloes are pretty obvious.

-Women pastors

-Marriage after divorce

-Divorce

-Critical Theory

-Sodomy

-Abortion

-Drunkeness

-Authority

Did I tap your water buffalo? Do you justify and cling to something on this list? You could probably come up with a whole list of water buffaloes that you see in other people. I find that my own are much easier to ignore than the ones I see in others. Did I step on your toes?

Believers are held to a different standard. Believers are at many different stages, the Holy Spirit moves in each believer to convict and strengthen, uphold and seal. No human brain can comprehend the transformation all at once.

I love those stories of addicts being filled with the Holy Spirit and completely forsaking the past! God is great.

I love Caryl Matrisciana’s story of her momentous conversion, the conviction of sin that dawned on her immediately. Powerful.

This Holy Spirit transformation is the most powerful, life-changing thing in our world. I know this.

We can fight it, cling to water buffaloes, be tempted —(You know those Seven Deadlies: Pride, Anger, Lust, Envy, Greed, Gluttony, Sloth) but the Holy Spirit ALWAYS offers a way out and forgiveness.

God’s great order is obvious to the believer. Don’t fight it. Don’t twist Scripture to justify your water buffalo.

I’m lifting my foot now.

Maranatha!

I am a musical person. My list of musical credentials are as follows:

Voice, piano, flute, guitar, pipe organ, recorder, harp, oboe (badly), viola (badly), and now I’ve got a Double Bass in the house which I am keeping for my friend who is moving away. Its deep voice gives me thrills when I pluck those strings.

My big things now are voice and flute. I play the piano as if it is a part of my breathing, but I’m no longer very good at it. I sight read everything. I make a pretty good substitute for the music program at my school.

I was the student band conductor in high school, and I love conducting the choirs at the Middle School and High School.

For my alto voice I have soloed in “The Messiah,” by Handel, and Benjamin Britton’s Ceremony of Carols. I sang in a girl’s group (Daughters of the King) back in high school with my friends. I’ve sung with several community choirs in Louisiana, Texas, and Iowa. I sang with the Northern Lights Chorale for 10 years, the Minnetonka Choral Society for 3 seasons.

I love to sing. I love music. I’ve been a church pianist, soloist, and choir member as I was able and asked.

I believe music is absolutely powerful, and that God made it to glorify Himself through our ability to make music.

I love the mathematical format, the symmetry, the harmony, and the emotional energy.

I know the power of praise music to dispel depression. I know the power of J.S. Bach to dispel mania. I’ve experienced that.

This year I have listened to Ola Gjeilo’s music almost every single day. His ponderous Norwegian background has genetically linked with my own Norwegian background—perhaps also the Swedish in me. I remember a thought from Isabella Rosselini about her Swedish days (dark) and her Italian days (light). I think there is a depth or heaviness to the Scandinavian background. Maybe it is the darkness of the winters.

His music soothes and speaks for me.

I needed it this year.

Sometimes my own grief was just a black mass in my chest. This music breathed for me.

I’m grateful to him for composing such healing music for grief for me. In particular I listened to the recording by Voces8, a song called “The Lake Isle.” That CD is wonderful. I can never be tired of it. I feel it is my spirit’s message.

It helps to know Brian and I shared our love for Gjeilo’s music! I feel it honors my late husband in a way when I listen to it. It is almost like being able to share the beauty with him while he enjoys heaven.

I think about heaven a lot when I’m listening to Gjeilo’s works. It’s heavenly.

When you see me weeping in the truck as I drive down the highway you will know that I am listening to Gjeilo.

It’s helping me.

(But please still say a prayer for me, because I need that!)

Maranatha!

It was just over two weeks ago when the phone rang at 6:00 am. That is something normal for substitute teachers, but this day I was surprised because the students are mostly distance learning on Fridays. It was a Friday.

It was my mom. My dad had had a medical emergency.

It turned out to be a stroke, and fairly mild, by all accounts.

Oh, how we thank the Father in Heaven!

These past two weeks have been a gradual acclimation to a new normal. My dad is doing his exercises faithfully, remembering to follow his protocol, and everyone is trying to adjust.

My dear brother came from New York and stayed with our parents night and day while the first adjustments became routine.

In the meantime I have adjusted my life to accommodate my dad’s needs.

I am not subbing, and I took a hiatus from my hotel job. I dropped my graduate studies for now. Basically I gave up my own schedule. I cannot think of anything that is still the same. Ed, Cheri, and I make sure someone is always backing up my mom with my dad’s needs. We have hired a good friend to be a nighttime backup for most nights.

Because my mom has a heart problem she absolutely needs her sleep, so nights are critical, restful ones.

I have felt the need for good sleep for quite some time. I can handle the days far better, the depression, the adrenaline better when I’ve slept. Bless Paul, our friend. He’s been wonderful.

So, life changes. I don’t know how long before my dad can be more mobile and back to a sort of normal. He’s 94, so it may never be quite like it was. He sure is getting better quickly, so I attribute that to God’s answered prayer.

You know, when you’ve been through so much you really wonder about God answering prayer. He does, even in the midst of hard times.

It’s a perspective thing.

We are not promised happiness, health, wealth, or anything of this earth. We are warned of hardship and trial, poverty and loss. Grief. That is the existence of the human being.

But we are promised joy in the midst of trouble.

Expectations are tricky things.

I wrote an essay on expectations in high school. I remember thinking about how damaging they are! When you have no expectations you really cannot be too disappointed in any circumstance.

I think that is the way we are supposed to live.

Our eyes need to be fixed on Jesus.

It is the time to announce that my Margaret decided to get married in January. I was left out of the entire thing, as I disapproved. I guess I expected things to go a little slower, a little more reasonably.

After dating a young man for one month she decided to marry him.

A very good and old friend played accomplice in the marriage, and left me out of the equation. I felt the loss keenly. I guess I should not have had any expectations about friendships and obligations.

I have learned to give them to the Lord.

I had to learn again to give them to the Lord.

May the Lord be glorified, even in my loss.

Again, for the 8 of you who read my blog regularly, you are the ones who know. Others have learned our news through different circumstances.

I really don’t know how to do life very well, but I’ll have to shore up my gains and cut my losses.

Brian is a loss to my life, now Margaret.

I’ve had loss. I know loss.

At the base of my well of loss is the Holy Spirit who knows my heart and soul. No one else can judge me! God alone, the merciful lover of my soul is my Redeemer and strength.

God is good. He is good all the time.

He allows these hardships to teach us, to draw us to Himself. Life may not turn out as you expected. Corgi Hollows knows this deeply.

What are my expectations?

Certainly they are not welcome here!

Better to get on the time wagon and see where it heads next.

I know the driver. I trust Him.

Maranatha!

(Can’t Wait!!!!!!) 🙂 🙂 🙂