CRAZY BUSY, IN A TIZZY...

Life here at the Quill has taken several unexpected turns, some have left me crazy busy while others have sent me off in a tizzy.  There was the sale of a house that turned out not to be a sale of the house that I spent weeks emptying, donating, selling, packing, and storing only to find out 4 days before closing that it fell through.  The sale that wasn't a sale after all created a ripple effect of needing space back in my own home for things that were going to need a home so.....I had to pack up, sort, donate, sell, downsize and move my studio BUT before I could do that I had to empty the writing cottage by sorting, storing, selling, and donating what was in there in order to move the studio.  Then there were issues with my moms health and well being to focus on.  Now a major move for a family member where I am once again emptying, sorting, packing, selling, and donating a lifetime accumulation and all the memories and emotions that go with that.  I seem to be caught in a vicious cycle!

I have heard it said that what we do here on earth prepares us for heaven.  While I know it's not a literal job I let my imagination roam as my hands were busy and I thought to myself, "Oh no!  I am going to be accumulating loads of stuff that has to be sorted and distributed!"  Then I wondered what exactly I would have to sort and distribute since there will be no earthly goods?  The most amazing thought came to me...I could accumulate prayers and distribute blessings!  Wouldn't that be an amazing job?

My silly ruminations really helped with what was fast becoming a bad attitude about having to be responsible for other people and their possessions.  These tasks fell to me not as burdens but as blessings to those I am doing the service for and to those who are receiving the distributed goods.

Life does not always go as we plan, it can leave you crazy busy or even in a tizzy, just remember, accumulate those prayers and distribute those blessings because whatever He has you doing right at this moment is an amazing job!

Blessings,

Sandy

IT'S NOT PERFECT...

It has been one of those weeks, you know, the kind where everything you touch seems like an epic fail...from the loaf of bread that would not rise, to the near death experience of a wrong mixture of chemicals while conducting a mixed media experiment, to ruining not one but two hand painted loving crafted journal bindings, and last but not least taping what you thought was a tutorial only to find out the camera was on the fritz!  Small potatoes in light of all the things going on around our world today, very small, nearly invisible, really and truly.

 (Yes I know I forgot to paint the birds other foot, doing that as soon as I am back in studio)

(This was initially supposed to be for a class but I think I have had enough of this particular project)

While I alone cannot clean up the mess this world is in, I can try and repair some of the mess I have made by my own  hand.  I began by spending quite a bit of time in prayer for the worldly mess I cannot handle before tackling the wee smalls in my studio.

After removing all the bindings and pages from the journal covers I was left with two empty shells with no idea what to do with them.  At 4:26 this morning I abruptly awoke with a seed of an idea.  I immediately got up and headed into the studio to see if I could make it work.  I spent time drafting a pattern, sewing, ripping out, resewing, ripping out again, resewing again, until I finally had a prototype ready to test.  It is not perfect, it has some flaws, but I love it anyway, my new iPad carrying case.

If only all the epic failures in our world were so easily repairable by just simply removing all the ugly parts and being able to begin again.  I have spent time drafting a plan of prayer only to see it ripped out of place again and again, its truly a test of faith and endurance when one only feels like throwing up their hands and giving up.  My project is not perfect, nor is our world, they have their flaws, but I love them both anyway.  I refuse to let evil overshadow all that is good and decent and kind.  I now carry the world at my fingertips in my new carrying case which allows me to keep abreast of all that goes on outside of my small sphere but its the world I live in that I carry in my heart and prayers for peace on earth and good will towards all mankind.  

6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7

blessings,

Sandy

ONE PADDLE AT A TIME...

Tenacity: to firmly hold fast to something

Determination: firmness of purpose

Perseverance:  steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty or delay in achieving success

Life lessons often come to me in the odd moments when I am most unaware that one approaches but most keenly aware they were meant for me after they have unfold.  I have a tendency to be an observer and that is most often the way I learn.  A week ago I learned a lesson in tenacity, determination, and perseverance in which I was the object in the lesson, unaware of the approach or my role in it yet keenly aware of the encouraging message after the event unfolded.

(Paddling past the boat docks in the bay)

My newest favorite outdoor activity is kayaking...who knew I was a kayaking kind of gal...I love it!  And that is how my lesson began.  For one glorious week the Handyman and I glamped on the beach and kayaked in the serene bay, marshy estuaries, and the salty sea.  All week long I had been eyeing a little stretch of islands that can only be reached by kayak because the water grows quite shallow in areas and sandbars rise up in others.  I wanted ever so badly to explore that little group of islands but I felt too inexperienced and afraid to leave the windbreak of the bay and cross the waving sea alongside the towering bridge in deep deep waters to reach the coveted spot as I had seen others do.

(Skirting the edge of the bay around to the bridge.)

This particular day we had paddled out into the bay and skirted the shore line alongside the boat docks, stopping on a little stretch of beach to look at shells, paddling past a small row of summer rentals, past another set of docks, curving around another small beach, with the end of one section of the bay bridge coming into sight.  As I sat there bobbing around looking at that island the idea rooted itself firmly in me that I should at least try to reach my coveted goal.  With firmness of purpose I looked at the Handyman and said, "Let's do this!"  He asked me if I was sure, I said no I was scared but I was going to do it anyway.  This is completely out of my character.

(Rest stop on a shallow sandbar.)

I fixed my eye on my landing target point, with a mighty power stroke of the paddle and lifting of prayer, I left the safety of the sheltered bay and launched myself into a literal sea of uncertainty.  The waves were no longer gentle and kind but brisk and billowy.  Paddling took precision and concentration to keep on course.  Directional changes and course corrections had to be made many times while keeping my eye on my goal.  About halfway across my muscles began to burn and tire and the wind kicked up causing the waves to increase.  I could feel my pulse throb in my neck and hear my heartbeat over the sound of the sea.  I had a choice, I could quit, turn around, and go back to the windbreak sheltered safety of the shallow bay or I could persevere despite the difficulty of wind, waves, and weariness and push on to reach my goal.

(Landing on the coveted island under the bridge.)

I cannot explain what happened next but a dogged determination rose up in me, an internal strength and desire to do what I set out to do.  The Handyman was behind me and he said all of the sudden he could not keep up as I power paddled across the ocean.  All the way across the Handyman would ask me if I was going to make it or did I want to turn back. I kept saying no that I wanted to go a little but further, each time he asked my response was the same, no I still wanted to go on.   I kept seeing that little island come closer and closer until finally like a crab I scuttled up on the sandbar, raising my paddle over my head with both arms and letting out a victory roar, I did it!  Once my rubbery arms and legs were on shore I turned around to see how far we had come from our launch point, which was barely a pin point in my vision.  I stood amazed and proud and victorious...and then I groaned...realizing we had to paddle all the way back!

(The red "x" in the photo shows our launch point, we determined it was about a 3 mile paddle.)

After downing a bottle of water, resting, shelling, and taking a few photos we decided it was time to return.  This time there was no skirting the shore, sheltering in the bay, or avoiding the wind and waves, only paddling off into the deep end setting out for a new goal.  This time it was easier even though I had to paddle just hard, watch my course just as carefully, and fight fatigue, I had the thrill of victory under my belt (or life jacket in this case) to spur me on.

(My big beautiful shell trophy from the island)

This is what I learned:

I can do far more than I think I am capable of if I hold fast to my goal with determination (and prayer) despite any difficulty or delay at achieving success which in turn can spur me on the next goal.  More often than not goals cannot be reached in a day.  I could not reach that island in one paddle stroke but with many of the same repeated strokes over and over and over again as I inched forward toward my goal.  My journey across the ocean, like achieving a goal, is not easy, you have to work hard, chart and follow your course, and fight discouragement and fatigue along the way but I have to tell, the victory whoop at the end is exhilarating and well worth the effort!

(Paddling into the sunset, back to our launch point, goal achieved!)

Wishing you all tenacity, perseverance, and determination on your journey whatever it may be!

blessings,

Sandy

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MY BLUEBIRD OF HAPPINESS...

"Every now and then,

when the world sits just right,
a gentle breath of heaven
fills my soul with delight..."

-Hazelmarie ‘Mattie’ Elliott, A Breath of Heaven-

"Happiness often sneaks in through a door you didn't know you left open."
-John Barrymore-

It seems as if for the last two years I have been holding my breath. I took in one very deep one upon my grandmothers death. I have been waiting to exhale ever since. And then, the Christmas miracle happened. Every memory I possessed was bottled up in that one breath, held in check, ready and waiting to be released. Everyone knows you can't hold your breath for infinity, eventually you will turn blue, self~preservation will kick in, and you will inevitably gasp for air.

That's exactly how the grieving process was for me. I thought if I could hold in all the past and concentrate on the here and now, eventually lifting my eyes to the future, then and only then, could I survive the gaping hole her absence left in my heart and life. For awhile, as I held my breath, I did turn blue, that deep dark denim kind of blue that is so weighty it clads ones heart within its constricted boundaries like a too tight ill fitting pair of jeans.

Since breathing is something we can control or regulate, it is a useful tool for achieving a relaxed and clear state of mind. Perhaps that is what I thought I could achieve by blotting out the memories like one would blot up a spot of spilled liquid, the spill being my pain, absorbing it in one swipe, and casting it away. Grieving is like that, we can get so absorbed by it.

I realize now that I have been holding my breath waiting for that one thing to reveal itself to me that would allow me to expel the pent up pain. A scene from a movie, set in simpler times, moved me from being fixated on what I had lost to remembering what I had - wonderful, beautiful, precious memories. A tingle of happiness trilled in my heart, like a bluebirds song, as the scenes of the movie before me faded away being replaced by the ones of my childhood.The farm on the screen was not located in the pancake landscaped dusty Delta region where cotton crops are harvested but was a little house set up against hill in a hollow where the land rises and falls heaving rich vegetable crops from its fertile soil. Sights and sounds and stories, voices of the past whispering to my present to remember.

I felt myself breathe with a sigh of relief as the flood gates opened. For the first time in a long time I wanted to open the scrapbook of my mind and page through all the pictures contained therein. I wanted to point, and to smile, and to laugh, to recall and reminisce over each faded snapshot scene, retouching each one, bringing them back to life.

I am not exactly sure that the old adage that time heals all wounds is true, at least not completely, when the wound heals there is always a scar. I think we have some choice in the matter. Do we continue to hold our breath to gape and bleed as we suffocate in pain or do we slowly breathe in and breathe out, allowing this deep cleansing process to do its work. Breathing exercises are all about focus and technique, what we choose to focus on and what technique we use to cope.

Everyone is different, for me the passport to my healing is in the remembering and the writing of those memories. As I step into the image of each snapshot in my life's scrapbook it is like Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz stepping from the black and white world of Kansas into the technicolor land of Oz. The sights and sounds are vivid and surreal, and yet, they are very real and tactile.This thing called writing has become my means of coping, my bluebird of happiness if you will. The bluebird has long been a symbol of hope and renewal, hearth and home, as well as happiness. The bright blue flash of memory that flickered into my life on those dark and gray days has given me the wings to fly above the pain, process the loss, and helped me to realize that happiness comes from the journey not by avoidance. I am giving wings to my words, those of the memories, letting my little bluebird, writing, aid me on my journey.
I wanted to thank you, dear blog readers, for being a part of the journey, for reading and responding to the posts that pay tribute to my past, my true life farm stories of a lost lonely little girl who spent her summers and holidays at The Old House nestled in the foothills of the Ozarks tended by her grandmother in the only place where true happiness for her resided. Your response to these stories has overwhelmed me and blessed me beyond belief. Thank you for the twitter of happiness you have put in my heart by letting me share these little snapshots of life.May the Lord bless each and everyone one of you with your own little bluebird of happiness in whatever area of need that you may have today. May you nestle under its wings and allow it to shelter you. May you find comfort in it, enough to step out of the shadow of avoidance and to begin your own journey on the path to healing. May it keep you in its care, may its song guide you, and its flight path be clear. May you feel that flutter of happiness in your heart and life today.

Many Blessings,
Miss Sandy

Photos: A bluebird on the cattle gate at the farm taken on our last trip there. The very gate where a local farm boy tried to give me my first kiss, but that is a memory and story for another day...

Because of Blogging.....

"You need to be aware of what others are doing, applaud their efforts, acknowledge their successes, and encourage them in their pursuits. When we all help one another, everybody wins."

~Jim Stovall~

I wanted to share something with you all because if it were not for your encouragement it would not have happened. Many moons ago I made a confession here about the whole writing thing. Just ten days later one of my blog entries was chosen to be published! I asked for your input on which entry and you selected this one. Well, here it is in print:

I can't thank all of you enough for giving me a deep drink from your cup of encouragement. The kindness of your words have helped me to step out of hiding and into a new season of obedience. Because of blogging I have encountered some amazing people and been afforded some equally amazing opportunities. I never dreamed when Quill Cottage was created that it would actually be a second home in a community peopled with new friends that feel like family. Many thanks to you and to Proverbs 31 Ministries for helping to spread the gift of encouragement!

Blessings,
Miss Sandy

Photo taken on the banks of Mammoth Springs. Thanks for giving wings to my dreams!

DELIVERANCE......

"Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivers them out of them all."
Psalm 34:19

I am inviting you to come and sit and sip a cup of encouragement with me while we journey into the past. I am only going to share a little part of this story; the part that I think might help us garner strength in adversity. A few years ago I found myself walking through a very dark time indeed. I was feeling overwhelmed by shifting emotions and circumstances beyond my control, helplessness coupled with fear settled in. When no one else, including myself, seemed to understand my plight; I knew that the Lord knew not only what I was feeling but what I needed to garner a measure of peace. My only recourse was to cry out to Him for deliverance.

Some days it was difficult to read my Bible or to pray. I mostly lived in the Psalms, God’s beautiful poetry, which often echoed my very hearts cry or emotions. Some days I had to rely on others to pray for me when I could not pray for myself. Some days I simply thumbed through the Psalms scanning all the previously underlined or written beside passages and let them minister to me. Some days the words of a hymn would sustain me. Some days it was just knowing that God’s Word was true, His promises sure, and His peace permanent. Other days it was a hug, a kind word, or a friendly note that kept me going. Some days it was demand of duty and others it was sheer will power and determination. But every day in this time of darkness I found His grace in my time of need. He never left me even in the times of silence. It must have pleased Him, been His will, for me to walk this dark path, yet He sustained me.

He did not remove the duty and demands of each day. He did not move me swiftly through the valley. He did guide me through it, every step of the way. He provided me with nourishment from His Word. He let me express myself freely to Him in prayer. He had a compassionate and understanding heart when no one else understood. He had an ever listening ear when my cry was a feeble as, “God, please help me!” He had an ever present extended hand for me to hold onto and to pull me up when I was down. He had a heart of compassion and eyes full of love that were ever watchful over me. He made Himself evident in the little cups of kindness offered through others. He never hid Himself from me. His deliverance did not happen all at once, but in His timing, it slowly dawned.

No one but God knows the depth of our emotions or our most intimate needs and He is the only one who can really help us. Friends and family support us but it is God who sustains us through all trials. His Word is true and His promises are sure. One such promise that I truly love in His Word is Psalm 34:19 “Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivers them out of them all.” This verse speaks of preservation and deliverance from all. This is one of the verses I literally clung to during my trial.

My prayer is that the following entry penned in my journal on February 3, 2005, will encourage, sustain, and preserve those of you who may be walking through a season of discouragement.

DELIVERANCE

“Father, today, all that I can do

Is to lean wholly and souly upon you

Weak, infirm, and frail I be

All I can do is lean on Thee

My body is sick, my emotions scattered

My feeble attempts at prayer seem to hit the ceiling and shatter

The weather is dreary, dank, and damp

My thoughts drift off to a place where I wish not to camp

Despite the fiery darts of the foe

One truth invades this gloomy state, Jesus loves me so

He will lift me from this pit of slime

He will renew the thoughts of my mind

He will put the Son back in His place

He will return the smile to my face

He will provide for my every need

I have His Word and promises to read

All I need do is sit here quietly and wait

He will show me the path narrow and straight

He will strengthen and patch up my heart

He will repel every fiery dart

"This battle is mine He whispers to me

Be still, wait, watch, and see

Knowing that I am greater than he who desires to have you

Stand firm and pray, this is what I want you to do."

Oh to Him be the glory, honor, and praise

Someday I'll be able to look back on these days

And see the deliverance of His mighty hand

As He moves me from Egypt to the Promised Land

Oh what glory and praise there will be

When from this dark place of bondage I am set free

Oh to watch the work of His hand

And to know that this was all part of His plan

To grow me and stretch me and to strengthen me still

That I would be better equipped to do His will

He may send someone to me who travels in this present dark place

And maybe He will use me to point them to His saving grace

Oh thank You, Father, for letting me

Travel this dark path with Thee

Open my eyes and heart to see and hear

All that You want me to learn while I’m here

Help me to discover Your wisdom and truth

I don’t want to remain an unlearned youth

Or be as the foolish woman in Your Word

Ever learning but never understanding or applying what she has heard

This is my hearts cry, my prayer, my plea

Oh dear Savior, draw me closer to Thee

Though I walk through this valley dark and steep

I know no mountain is too high or pit too deep

For us to travel, traverse, or climb

Especially when my heart and hand is in Thine

To You be the glory, honor, and praise

Even on these, the most difficult of days!”

May your cup of encouragement runneth over with grace, mercy, peace, and divine deliverance in your time of need!
Miss Sandy

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Really Bad Day.....

This morning I sat in my little writing cottage, in my little chair at my lovely little table and I found myself distracted to no end. First I kept seeing flashes of feathers so I had to investigate and discovered I had company for brunch, my neighbor’s rooster. He looked so sweet I thought I’d better photograph him. About twenty or so clicks later I came back in and sat back down. OK down to business but first I’d better check my email. I did and I responded to it all! Now I’ll work, but I’d better check my blog also, so I did. What is that shiny thing in the woods? I’d better go see! Like a crow after a bit of bling I shot out of my seat and down the hill, nuts, it was just a soda can! I toss it in the trash on my way back when I see Thomas, my neighbor’s cat, creeping up the hill and I go out to shoot him, with the camera silly!

OH, and there goes the mailman, I tell myself I’ll be right back to work honest I will, after I check the mail! Sophie needs a walk anyway, so off we go to the mailbox. I got the sweetest card from Denise, my Mermaid Swap partner.I managed to waste another hour and wow, noon already, lunch break! Sophie and I had lunch and flick on the TV. Aspiring Women was on so I need to sit through the entire thirty minute episode to see what neat thing God did in the life of a woman during her second battle with cancer. That’s when I made the discovery.

I have encountered yet another casualty of war that my body is having with itself. I have no tears! Now to some this might not be so tragic but I am sad none the less. They were my tears, my way of expressing myself in grief and sadness, my way of showing elation in happiness and joy, and now I don’t have any! It is truly an odd sensation to feel the sense of crying with totally dry eyes. The gland that produces my tears and saliva is not functioning properly.

I finally decided to learn my fate and read the paperwork that came with the diagnosis of this faulty piece of equipment I now posses. Well, let me tell you somethin’, I ain’t havin’ none of it, no siree Bob! That nasty little paper says that the damage is irreversible and more doom and gloom is inevitable! Well, I am not falling for that! I am choosing to believe that I can be healed or at the very least that no further damage will occur! So, I am not going waste anymore of my time on reading that rubbish!

Now, where were we? Oh yeah, I was having the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, finding out I had no tears and all, plus being wildly distracted, just like Alexander, I am contemplating moving to Australia. It is right there to my left, see on my table top, right next to the Werther’s? Fremantle looks like a nice place to live. It’s right on the coast of the Indian Ocean, or perhaps Brisbane or Toowoomba on the South Pacific side.

Some of you may not know who Alexander is so I’d better explain. He is a character in a book entitled, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. His story begins when the gum he was chewing at bedtime is caked in his hair by morning. Among his other trials: his teacher doesn’t like his drawing of an invisible castle, there is no dessert in his lunch, the dentist tells him he has a cavity, there is kissing on TV, and he has to wear his railroad train pajamas. He copes with all this angst by telling everyone he wants to move to Australia. The book closes with his mother’s assurance that everyone has bad days, even people in Australia.

Trust me, I have had worse days and I know someone who had it worse than even I, a man named David. He was being pursued and had to go into hiding fearing for his very life. He cried out to God in his distress telling God that he was feeling fearful, trembling, and horror had overwhelmed him and he wanted a way of escape. He wished for the wings like a dove, for then he could fly away and be at rest. He says he would go far off into the wilderness where he could hasten escape from the windy storm and tempest. He had no relief day or night save his sweet counsel with the Lord. He declared that he would call upon God to save him. He cast his burden upon the Lord and was sustained. He declared that he was delivered from the battle that was against him and within his own heart and emotions, and he experienced peace.

Haven't we all felt like Alexander and David, if we could just change our circumstances, our geographical location, our finances, our relationships, etc. then everything would be better! No necessarily so, as Alexander’s mother pointed out, everyone has bad days, even people who live in Australia.

On February 16, 2005, I was having a very real very terrible, horrible, no good, really bad day and these are the words I penned in my journal: “Father, so often I want to rid myself of every inconvenience and discomfort. I want to be like David in Psalm 55, to have the wings of dove, to fly away from it all and to be at rest, to run to the solitude of the wilderness, to make a hasty escape from wind and storm. How human that reaction is!”

“I want roses without any thorns.
I want breezes without any storms.
I want sunshine without scorching heat.
I want life all pleasant and sweet!

How wrong these wants and wishes be,
Shallow and selfish they make me!
Every hardship and trial provides opportunity to grow,
You will give me Your strength to keep me on the go!

Trials and testings will either increase of flatten my faith,
None of these will the Christian escape.
Your yolk is easy and Your burden is light,
If I just remember that it is to You I need to take flight!

Only when I run to You can I find peace and rest,
The shelter of Your Word is always best.
Overwhelmed definitely describes me,
To think that You love me so completely!

That You would put into Your Word a man after Your own heart,
To teach me I am not alone or set apart!
In weakness, weariness, or downcast soul,
I too can take sweet counsel and let my tears roll!

I too can cry out to You for the battle to cease,
And in Your great mercy You give me rest and peace!
I can cast my burden upon You and me You will sustain,
I praise You for You alone remain faithful, forever the same!

Quietness comes at the end of my call,
My Lord Jesus can handle trials, troubles, and all!
Upon second thought I’ll take the roses with the thorns,
They will remind me of the crown that for my sake you had worn!

I’ll take the breezes as well as the storms,
You, in the midst of them bring stillness and comfort to those who mourn!
I’ll take sunshine and scorching heat too,
I’ll walk through the fire with You at my side, like the three Hebrew!

I’ll take the pleasant and the sweet,
And be reminded that these times are a treat!
A blessing and rest from the hand of God,
Sustenance for days that are harder to trod!”

“Dear Jesus, thank You for giving me help, hope, and a hand up out of this pit I am in. I learned today that you did not come to eliminate the darkness or to explain it, but to fill it with Your presence. Please fill that dark void in my life so completely, so fully, that I will only see the light shining in the darkness, chasing the shadows away. Please hold me up for the rest of this day. May Your will be done, in Jesus name, Amen”

Maybe it is not such a terrible, horrible, no good, really bad day after all!

Keep Looking Up,
Miss Sandy