I heard a speaker at our church talk about his success as a businessman. His name was Stanley Tam. He figured out a way to recycle silver from film—or something like that—and although now his tech is all but obsolete (probably) he made millions at the time.

I don’t remember much about his business, nor his testimony. I think I bought his bio at a thrift store once upon a time, but haven’t read it yet.

The thing I remember is his emphasis on daily devotions and consistent quiet time, how it will supernaturally meld to your own life and schedule, offering wisdom, encouragement, and peace for the very day. It even can portray the surroundings of the person reading the Scripture.

Truth.

I’ve tested this my whole life.

I use “Daily Light on the Daily Path” because my mom and dad read that to me every morning and evening as I grew up. I still use it. I read it to my kids too.

I also have my “read through the Bible in a year” sort of thing going, but it’s taken me two years to read the Bible in Spanish. I’m just becoming more familiar with the language now, and I’m in Amos.

Reading the Bible is something I can rely on.

God is communicating with us even daily.

I realize my life has been through some hefty and deep dark turns lately. I cannot offer much encouragement to anyone, really, but as the things of this earth grow dim the promises of Scripture seem to shine more brightly.

God is still good.

I still trust Him to lead and guide me.

The way seems really hard these days, but I think there may be a little bit of light coming through a crack somewhere.

Hope. It comes from seeking His face.

Some of you may remember the many novels I wrote in high school. Hours were spent at sleepovers reading my romances out loud to my friends, and even at school I used my stories to complete assignments whenever possible.

As I entered college I burned them all, realizing that they were sub-par, immature, not wanting them to be found if I accidentally died or something.

I regret that.

I wrote most of a novel as a missionary in Germany, kept it quietly in my files for several years. The shock was when Francine Rivers released the book “The Atonement” and I saw my story, so similar, in her plot. I would have been accused of plagiarism had anyone read mine.

It’s always rewarding to see that your work could have been significant.

Now I write here, and most of it is pretty raw, certainly real, and all mine.

I love romance. Jane Austen is simply the best. The heart matters are resolved with subtle thoughts and inclinations, nothing bold or cheesy. Characters are either lovable or despicable, yet nuance and reality play significant roles.

Every life is romance.

I have lived pretty fully at this point: blessed childhood, good marriage, five children, grandchildren, poverty, wealth, pain, death, loss. I am not an orphan, which at my age is remarkable.

I’ve pretty much experienced most of human life.

This helps me craft stories, understand change, and be realistic in my outlook.

After my husband died last year I have been in a state of transition. Grief marked my outlook, numbness, shock, confusion, concern. There are days I had to remind myself to breathe properly. Even today I find my hands trembling and my heart erratic. It takes time to recover from such things.

I didn’t ask for this change.

When one is snatched from the fire by the Holy Spirit one doesn’t necessarily ask for such change. It just happens.

Salvation may be the lifeline for a desperate sinner living in hell on earth. Although completely necessary for the successful Satanist as well, the process of repentance and life change may be truly unattractive in comparison.

Repentant sinners know their need for Christ.

Those of us who were brought up in the faith also know it.

Those who have been lured by the world have the most difficult transition to make, one that requires absolute submission and sacrifice.

To say that sacrifice is worth it seems trite, yet it is true.

Truth will prevail as the supernatural world reveals itself more and more. The necessity of Jesus will become clearer and clearer. We all need Jesus. To sacrifice for Him is truly difficult for those who are entrenched in the wealth and prosperity of this life. Young people have an especially hard time extracting themselves from the pleasure of lust and greed.

Christ gave all, has the power to save even the most entrenched sinner.

It is worth everything to turn to Him, let the story reach a tremendous axis of change and transformation, all for the future eternity.

The Holy Spirit is the initiator, therefore I am praying that He initiates this transformation in several people. Prayer is powerful. I have my list of names —those that need snatching from the fire—and I am praying, crying out to God to initiate the heart change in these souls entrenched in this world and all its pretty offers.

The millennium is coming. Christ is coming. The Rapture is coming. The end is truly near. The fire is also coming, eternal lake of fire.

Give up the pretty trinkets and fool’s gold for the pure precious metal of eternity with Christ! The earthly sacrifice is minimal in comparison.

Being saved is a transformation driven by God Himself. When I read of this beautiful and profound change in people I am inspired and hopeful. I know several incredible testimonies.

Satan hates these people and attacks them in severe ways. They fall. They fail. They hurt and they suffer. The battle is real, and the life lived for Christ is certainly no cakewalk.

But how temporary life is.

This present trial doesn’t last. Flip over to I Thessalonians, chapters 3 and 4.

Be encouraged that your story is happening in this moment, God is writing it, you are being transformed even now. This is a picture of salvation. God writes the story.

God wins.

Today is the day of salvation. Let Him start the story in your life! Repent and learn of Him.

It’s been awhile, dear readers. As a blogger for over ten years I’ve had few pauses in writing as long as I’ve had recently.

This pause gave time for an alignment job.

The quiet of grief and loss provided a necessary opportunity to pare down my life and set it on a new course.

Alignment, or realignment. So much is changed.

I’ve reassured my closest friends that my faith remains intact. I am having some trust issues, however, and it has made me more sympathetic, more merciful, more kind in my judgment of people. Generally.

I’m seeing and understanding behaviors in people that I never “got” before.

God is giving me an opportunity to relate to things I’ve never had to experience before.

Corgi Hollows is still a place to report the activity around the place, vent ideas, promote good things. It may seem a bit altered from now on.

After all, I’m not the quintessential home-school mom any more. I seem to have found a purpose in living for Jesus, it’s new and unusual for me, but the focus is still Christ.

Paring things down to make simplicity a theme has been very successful. Perhaps you haven’t seen me in awhile. I’m in a realignment.

I have chosen a new church to attend.

I have chosen to focus on the people the Lord has given me to care for.

I have chosen to be content.

I have chosen to let my grief come whenever it surfaces, but to acknowledge blessings and future hope.

I have chosen to look forward to the millennial kingdom where Christ reigns with His followers on earth. In this world we will have trouble. I will take heart knowing that Christ has overcome this world.

There has been little rain this summer, bringing the mowing season to a close early. The garden does well, and I’ve been treated to zucchini and cherry tomatoes. Corwyn, the Corgi, is still shedding profusely. I have placed a hold on a Rat Terrier puppy in Nebraska to take out the burgeoning Groundhog/Woodchuck population that will destroy my firewood shed.

I’m swimming at the YMCA almost daily to aid my neck and back issues. The result is a much more fit body and mind.

Music has been a comfort to me. My playlist includes Color Theory, Natalie Bergman, Marty Goetz, Jang Guen Suk, Hitchville, Ola Gjelo, Henry, and the Hidden In My Heart Lullabies.

I’m waiting and studying, watching and learning. I’m not the same person I was. I will probably never be the same again.

We all change gradually. Life dictates change.

Sometimes a drastic realignment is called for, especially as the result of major trouble.

I’ve had major trouble.

I’m realigned.

Going forward…

In all of life there are things you can choose: things you can change, things you can opt for, things that you expect.

Those things are never guaranteed.

When everything hits the fan, the bottom drops out, and you find yourself flat out on the floor staring at the ceiling asking “What just happened?”—

That is an unasked-for opportunity.

Re-focus.

Ultimately the God we serve is in Control. He is the Sovereign power of the Universe and He controls the chaos.

(There is really no such thing as chaos.)

I have a mind to reset. That is my choice.

In the past few years I saw and experienced great loss. Great change.

I am, subsequently, changed. There is nothing in my power to keep things “the same.”

Oh, sure, I still like chocolate. I still like pink and horses and Corgis. (I’m eternally 3 years old, apparently).

But things have changed. Relationships have changed. People have changed.

It isn’t that I don’t care, but I simply do not have the capability to care for the things I did care for formerly.

I have to refocus.

I have let many things go.

I’ve allowed myself time to set my face toward new paths.

If you feel left out of my focus I apologize. I mean no ill intent. I have simply downsized in a manner that is revolutionary for my sphere. Basically I’m focusing on Ed and Cherie. We, together, have a mission right now, and we three are going to work on that task. This is my focus, this is our focus. Each of us has our own goals and duty, but together we can take on a bigger project, just one, and we’ve decided on it.

Please don’t feel left out: I can’t handle anymore choices right now, anymore issues, anymore loss, anymore relationship.

The Lord is anchoring me in a new place.

I’m different. I’m changed.

My past is a blessing, a memory, and those of you who are a part of it are cherished.

Kiss me good-bye and wish me well.

I’m refocused.

I woke up a year ago (today, Thursday morning) and kissed my husband good-bye until heaven.

Alignment has been hard. Acceptance is difficult. Pain is real. Self pity is justified.

I’m still in the thick of it.

Tomorrow join me at Fort Snelling in the afternoon to commemorate my husband.

I’ve read several accounts of being lost at sea, and the description of the doldrums never fails to alarm me. Can you imagine being stuck in a sun burned ocean?

The moment when a breeze starts to pick up the crew brightens and the vessel begins to show life.

I have had my sails trimmed into an induced doldrums for the past few months.

This week marks the one year point for Brian to be in heaven.

I remember my dad saying to me one week after Brian died: “It’s been a week. Next week it will be two, then three.”

I didn’t know how I survived the first week—but I did, and his words were a gentle reminder that I could possibly survive time I couldn’t even imagine.

It’s been a year.

I remind myself that time must pass. My heart has developed a direct link to my tears, and the heaviness is truly physically painful. Sorrow is stifling. I’ve known sorrow, but the layers of it have given me a different experience.

The doldrums have given me time to process and manage the pain.

I’m thankful to trim my sails and my life down to just a few people right now, Ed and Cherie, primarily, my mom and dad. Anyone else dealing with this shared grief has been more of a balm to my spirit than whom I can help. I trust that people can understand that. I’m thankful for words of encouragement, for prayers, for thoughtful words.

I’m still in pain.

Pain changes things.

Don’t expect anyone at Corgi Hollows to be the same again. We’re changed. Different. We’re not the people we were.

For me, it seems that things I loved to do with Brian are especially sad and painful. I seek things completely different. My taste in music has changed, media, even the places we went I avoid for the most part. “Firsts” are important, and I’ve interspersed these things throughout the year, but the pain is unpredictable, and I prefer to avoid them.

New things. Different things.

Don’t judge me! Grief should never be judged. Those of us who are living it are simply trying to manage existence.

I know God allowed this pain. Jesus mourned too. He experienced emotions and pain. Why in the world did God created emotion?

Perhaps to give God glory—-

Philip Yancey wrote a book about pain years ago. I read it, and I haven’t forgotten the “blessing” of pain that he wrote of. Pain, something we avoid mostly, is a blessing of warning to the body’s stress. Perhaps I should see emotion like that. It is a blessing of expression.

These are thoughts from the doldrums.

The sun is shining. I’m listening to “Hitchville” today, a local group who has ties to some of my friends. Country music—Corgi Hollows???

Coping. Change. Time passing.

Waiting for the breeze.

Last weekend my cousin from Arizona came to visit and cheer this household. She always does, whenever she comes, but I needed her good medicine and cheerful ways more than ever. I’m so glad she came.

We cut rhubarb so she could make a pie for her mom. It turned out great, I hear. (Millie’s Recipe, find it on the old site!)

She always makes me laugh, gives me sound advice, and helps me regain the hope that I lose. It is her gift. I am glad to have a person like her in my close circle. We worked together at a department store called “Donaldson’s” back in the 1980’s, and I remember those shifts fondly.

I cried when she left, but there are promises of another visit soon.

I keep wondering if my air-travel plans will be thwarted by my health decisions. The New World Order seeks to control the flow of humans, and I am staying out of the global stuff as much as I can.

Globalism is really a thing these days, even as we find the hidden agendas and their devastating effects.

I’m being quiet again.

I thought I was quitting the hotel, but my manager begged me to come back. I’ll be back there sporadically. I guess that is a positive thing. I get to meet all kinds of people there.

As summer begins I see the changes in all of us connected to Corgi Hollows. We are just short of the anniversary of my husband’s death today, it will be a year soon. Memorial Day was filled with his memory, as we visited his grave, and his name was read out loud at the service in our city.

I feel raw. I still cannot believe he is gone, with Jesus, of course.

I think we will all be going soon. Look around! Where is hope? In Christ alone.

As someone who is thoughtfully pulling back from a frenzied life-pace I can understand my non-believing friends better than ever.

I am a believer, but I can see the tactics used to ignore Christ.

It’s pretty effective.

That is why I am praying so diligently for these dear ones to be snatched from the fire, as it says in Jude.

My list isn’t long. You might be on it if I know you, and you haven’t come to faith. There are a few “big” names on it, too, as I pray for the influence of conversion hope to reach thousands, if not millions!

You need Jesus.

He will help you.

Open your spiritual eyes, and let the Holy Spirit reveal truth to you.

Time is so short. We prophecy people understand! This is the season, and we are not unaware!

Maranatha!

I am surrounded by blue, green, deafening birdsong, sunshine, lilacs and sweetness.

And my heart is aching because this was the time of year that my husband really came to life, loving the yard, seeing the new growth, inhaling freshness.

Everywhere I look I can picture him hard at work.

And my loss is keen.

I feel like the beauty and the sorrow just don’t go together.

It is a conundrum.

I have to figure this out, but the heaviness in my heart is something I seek to distract myself from. It’s just too heavy. This is what grief looks like for me almost a year after my loss.

I am still remembering the moment I learned my husband had died, still wondering if it is really true. Why can’t our minds accept our shock?

I go on with the mundane things about me, subbing, mowing, shopping, driving, swimming at the Y, answering texts, paying the bills. I love the mundane. I’m so unexciting.

I’m healing.

I am thankful for each promise you have made me of praying. I need prayer. I need understanding.

My life journey has been raw lately, and because I am a writer/blogger I share it. It’s who I am right now, who I have become. I am simply the beggar telling other beggars where to find hope.

I like that metaphor.

Today I have the impetus to crawl out of my hole and take a look around. I’ve been in fetal position for a few weeks, and I’m giving myself some slack to see the darker side of my grief and let my guard down. My head hurts from crying, I snap irritably at little things. I’m not pleasant to be around.

Fetal position is becoming to me these days. You’d rather not encounter me.

God understands that I am dust. He knows my need and my weakness. He is always there. I’m seeing His merciful side lately. God, the righteous judge, is gentle and lowly of heart. I need Him to see me with that heart right now.

All I can do is pray for others right now.

Focus is a real thing, and I have defined my focus through these difficult months. I seek gentleness and lowliness, I seek to reflect the heart of Jesus.

Off to subbing for the rest of the day.

My dear cousin, precious friend, is arriving tonight to lift my spirits and connect for a week. She has sacrificed a week in her Arizona home to be with me. She always does me good. I’m so grateful for her.

Expect me to come back to life. I need to.

This was one of my husband’s favorite quotes. In our crazy life we reminded each other that “normal” was really impossible. How can you be normal with five above-average kids running around?

Brian was a genius, too, so that is hardly normal.

As I try to find a level of normalcy in my current existence I become weary, exhausted, trying to figure out a road map to the Rapture.

As a Pre-trib Rapture adherent I have a focal point, and that is a moment/twinkling that can occur at any time, perhaps today.

That focal point tends to ground me, forces me to find stability in a life that seems out of control.

God is in control, it just seems a bit crazy to me for now.

I guess I’m asking for your prayers.

I don’t like this stage of loss, this unpredictable emotion and pain. It’s hard on the soul.

It’s beyond my power to change it, but I ask for the One Who can help me to do so.

Thanks for praying.