A Different Course

A man’s heart plans his course, but the LORD directs his steps.

—Proverbs 16:9 HNV

My cousin told me she couldn’t go on our usual walk on the farm this morning. Although disappointed, I decided to go alone. I needed the exercise, and it would give me some time to pray. I had a lot on mind lately. With school starting soon, I fretted over the new course I’d been assigned to teach. The subject is not familiar to me. I will have to crack the books and watch slews of videos to be prepared, which means giving up a few of my precious remaining days of summer break to devote to it. That, I resented.

I donned my sneakers and set out for my usual course along the Chaptico Bay. Gravel crunched beneath my feet as I passed my cousin’s house and made my way through the barnyard. Then I stopped dead in my tracks. What! My passage through the pasture was cut off by an electrified fence.

Clear as Black and White

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

—Micah 6:8 ESV

“It’s hot out there, huh?” the young clerk chatted with me while checking out my groceries at Chaptico Market, the local “Mom & Pop” I’ve frequented since childhood.

“How hot is it supposed to be today?” I asked the clerk whose name, I later learned, is Brittney.

“Well, 87 when I wrote the board,” Brittney’s brown eyes bounced toward the blackboard near the door, which listed a week’s worth of forecasted temperatures, tidal information, and an inspirational quote, “but...”

“You write the board?” I interrupted, surprised that the new owner didn’t do that, for it wasn’t long after the store changed hands, from one generation to the next, that the chalkboard showed up.

Moooove Like A Cow

Are you frustrated with your life? Are things not moving in the right direction for you? Perhaps this might help…

My granddaughter is fascinated with cows. Every time she comes to visit, a trip to the pasture is in order. Yesterday I drove two-year-old Layla in my Jeep to see her favorited bovines and stopped at a spot where I was sure she could see them from her car seat. I lowered the window. “See the cows, Layla?” I pointed toward the small herd.

Her eyes widened. “What cows doin,’ Grandma?"

“They’re eating grass. See them?”

“Cows walking.”

“Yes, they are walking,” I said, surprised that she had noticed something I hadn’t.

Huddled together, the cows chomped at the blades and then simultaneously moved forward toward the next nourishing mouthful. Chomp, step, chomp, step, chomp, step.

I thought about this curious rhythm and wondered, Is this the way God wants us to move?

“Move like a cow?” you may ask, “That doesn’t sound like something I wish to emulate.”

Bear with me. We need to eat, too.

Like Fireworks on Independence Day

Not my usual post, but one of my poems I've resurrected for Independence Day...

It was my job. Clean

the church. 

Dust, sweep, vacuum.

Mother.

I brought my trio along,

Baby Emma in the stroller. The other two

were old enough to help

straighten Bibles, hymn books, kneelers.

That church sang to my spirit,

its history seeped into my soul.

Colonists sought freedom.

So did I.  Freedom from

venomous condemnation

and alcohol-laced abuse.

Sunlight streamed, spilling

hope unto wooden pews and lighting

the aisle with splashes of color

reflecting from stained glass windows.

The church bells rang out

carols, the message of the birth

of a Savior, Who came to bring

freedom.

The church bells rang out

clear, a message

to me.

And sunlight

lit my path like fireworks on

Independence Day.

So I took a

leap of faith

and left my accuser, and

took on

a new role. Single

Mother.

And I cleaned and

dusted and swept

and vacuumed.