Rope walking or funambulism has been around for centuries. Maneuvering across braided cord while suspended mid-air, this entertainment is dangerous. If you’re like me, sometimes in life, it can feel like you’re walking on a thin wire. It sure would be easier if it were a fence rail or a curb that didn’t move, but as kids we fell off those too.

To glean some skills in getting through those tight spots, let’s lean closer. How do they do it? Well, they start out on the ground. That’s helpful. It’s not so far to fall. First, they walk a straight line with arms stretched out for balance, keeping head up, and eyes looking to where they’re going. Like a ballet, fluidity come through repetition as they learn all the intricacies of movement.

The key to balance is keeping your center of mass (weight) over your base of support (your feet). As mentioned, a pole can be used to counter gravity’s pull. The closer to the wire, the better the balance, so dips are often used to recenter. And although we feel sturdier standing on two feet, a single leg is easier to balance upon up high. Often, the acrobat will balance on one leg and dip. Uh, it’s not for the faint of heart! Another tool used are soft looking leather slippers. (Let’s call them shoes instead, shall we? No slipping up there!) These shoes are malleable, they mold around the foot, allowing it to better grip the wire. Are you ready to climb up on a rope yet!?

I’m glad that training starts low and moves higher. The crazy fact is that it’s just as easy to balance higher up as it is low to the ground. If you’ve noticed, those high-wire walkers use long poles, (sometimes 40 feet long) because the poles themselves dip at the ends which draws the performer’s center closer to the wire. What looks natural so high up has been refined in practice.

Being ‘grounded’ to an aerialist takes years to cultivate. It means being prepared and focused. As faith-walkers, we too, have tools to keep us on the elevated high-wire of life. The rope that entangles many, has been unfurled and is anchored securely into rock. We can walk confidently in our slip-ons, our message of hope. Our daily practice of sitting at His feet refines our testimony to His faithfulness and keeps our core close to our Center of Gravity. Oh, we mustn’t forget the ‘cross’ bar of balance that we’ve been given, as we don’t carry it alone. His strength helps us to hold it. When weak, we keep our head up and eyes fixed on Him, each day a step closer.

And if we’ve learned our lessons well, we just keep walking, regardless of the wind gusts. Like the silence of a deer in the forest or a bird in flight, we too are visible in motion. And as precarious as the highwire looks, our balance was perfected on a firm foundation.  In spotlight or darkness, He leads us boldly in the narrow path ahead.

Blessings,

Debbie G

#HighwireWalking #WalkingEquipment #SpiritualHighWire #GetOffTheFence #WalkingTheLine

Some good background references:

Psalm 16:8 and Hebrews 12:2(keeping your focus), John 14:6 (His way), Luke 6:48 (firm foundation), Colossians 2:8 (entangling cords)

Busyness. Focusing on the tasks ahead. Trying to stay one step ahead of contractors and painters means that you are removing things that will need to be replaced.

I’ve taken down pictures, switch plates have been set aside, and wooden doors have been sanded all in preparation for my blessing of a brother to come and paint in his off-work hours. My job is to prepare the room, feed him while he’s here, and although he cares for his own brushes and my paint, it’s up to me to vacuum, replace the moved furniture, and to redecorate my barren walls.

There’s something freeing about a blank slate. With one brush stroke movement has begun. Color is the start of a theme. Eyes can be directed by placement. We can orchestrate our own beautiful symphony in the rooms in which we live, sleep and think.

 Do-it-yourself decorating shows are amazing. In one half hour segment, we see the ordinary transformed into a pristine, color-coordinated, picture-perfect snapshot. But secretly I wonder where do they put their clothing or the kid’s toys. We see a never-lived-in room. I can only imagine what a half an hour with my grandbabies would do to the space. Beautiful and yet not practical for most of us.

As we ready our homes for real living, we must consider that life will be messy. We’ll need hidey-holes for trinkets, hobby supplies, and our secret chocolate stash. Active families have busy schedules and sometimes we choose to let the kids help us bake the cookies. And their laughter echoes long after they’re in bed and the kitchen is cleaned.

This morning as I moved items so I could start my quiet time, I read about ‘renewing’ my spirit. And much like the renewing of my living space, I should consider an internal space cleanse. Maybe I stop to evaluate how my actions, how my daily routine and habits affect my day. Perhaps that daily news show that gets me fearful and agitated is a picture that needs to come off the wall. And instead of reaching for the remote I get outside for a walk. And how am I doing with connecting with my neighbors? And as I finish my reading in Ephesians, I am encouraged that the kindness I share will return to me.

So, if you stop by and find that my entrance has spackling marks where a mirror once hung, not to worry, my living room furniture is mostly back in the right spot, and I’ll clear a space for us to visit. I’d rather sit with you, my friends, in my ‘being repainted rooms’ than not visit with you at all.

And if you are undergoing your own spring ‘refresh’ I understand your dilemma but know I’m not looking at your stuff when I drop by, I’m just checking to see how you’re doing. Oh, and by the way, where do you hide your chocolate?

Blessings,

Debbie G

Good reading: Ephesians 4 :17-32

#springCleaning #kindnessReturns #Reevaluate #WheresTheChocolate #BrotherBlessing

I took a trip this past week. The river brings assorted treasure to my shoreline each spring as the snow melts away. This week, a long tree floated up and attached itself to my dock. I grabbed a shovel and walked out with my son. I gave the log a gentle nudge. It easily slid down the parallel line toward the end of the dock. It also easily moved away from the dock when I gave it a little push out. I realized a bit late that there was nothing holding me. Down went the shovel. And oops, down I went. I surfaced to my shout of my son’s concern, spitting out a mouthful of water.

“That tasted better than I thought,” I managed to quip around a cough.

He pulled off my glasses placed them off to the side and tried to pull me over the log, back up onto the dock. My flailing arms, trying to find a grip, gave my specs a good knock and they joined the shovel below.

I had a bit of a challenge getting my son to agree to let go of his hold on me so I could swim out on my own. Providentially, I had pulled on my winter coat as a bit of protection from the northern breeze, it puffed with air and was a good float.  

As I sloshed my way back up to the house, I was reminded how sometimes we have unexpected adventures. I’m sure I can use this as a warning to be more careful, and perhaps consider it a baptism for the next part of my journey. (insert chuckle here)

Lessons learned:

Things are replaceable. I lost a good pair of glasses and a shovel.

And what seems catastrophic can actually be amusing in the end. I knew I was fine the moment I surfaced… embarrassed, but fine. Heart hugs for my son who had lost his dad a year prior and had the shock of watching his mother drop off into the (not so) deep.

And learning new things: like how to care for my magnetic dock, that attracts all kinds of floating items, is challenging. So wisdom, like having someone near-by to pull you out of a jam, is imperative.

Well, keeping a good sense of humor helps too. After all, someone must take the first dip of the year.

Enjoy today’s chuckle… all at my expense.

Blessings,

Debbie G

Today’s wisdom brought to you by: Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil.  For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!

I wonder what Jesus saw as he was lifted into the highest place, hanging from a cross on the hill, oh Golgotha. All eyes were on him, this man who claimed one-ship with God.

His friends had fled during the altercation the evening before. Now beaten and whipped, he was adorned with a piercing crown of thorns. Spit upon, to the chants of ‘Crucify him’ from the gathering crowd.

Just what did Jesus see from his unique perch hanging between two thieves?

Did he see the worried people who had followed him for years? Or those he had healed from affliction? How about the people just going about their day, like Simon of Cyrene, who were swept into viewing this spectacle by the pressing throng? Did he see the glint of pleasure in the temple leaders’ eyes as his life blood drained away? Could he hear the soldiers gambling for his clothing or talking about their plans at the end of their work day?

The hot sun baked his naked form as the day progressed. With each minute that passed his lungs begged for air as his hunched shoulders compressed his chest. And as he raised himself for another breath, his full weight pressed against his nail pierced feet. Pure agony.

Near the end of these hours, he spoke to his mother and a few brave friends with words of care. His final words were to the realm unseen, speaking to his Father in heaven. After asking God to forgive these people who didn’t know what they were doing, he gave up his spirit, placing himself into God’s hands.

Had I been there that day I’d like to think I would have been in that small cluster of faithful friends, but I often wonder if instead I’d have been one of the crowd chanting, ‘Crucify him.’

Or maybe I would have stood afar hoping he’d perform a miracle, like the ones I had witnessed, and that he would save himself.

But of this one thing, I am certain, that from his place on high he stared across time, and he saw me. He saw every person that would seek Him, and then He gave of himself to open the doorway to heaven for all who believe.

Forgive me, Jesus. I do believe.

(a repeat from 2020)

~Debbie G

John 19

#GoodFriday #WhatHeSaw #HeSawMe

With our children, it’s always about the ‘why’. Our littles are trying to piece together the world through our answers. So, in raising kids we endure a season where every statement is followed by a question. In a way, it’s good that they trust us and are digging for deeper understanding.

I adopted five kids from foster care. And in raising these little ones, there was one moment I’ll not forget, I was explaining how babies grew in their mother’s belly. And when I further explained that it was in their natural mother’s belly, my little one responded with a sorrowful whine, ‘but I wanted to grow in your belly.’

For the most part though, the longing these children had for their natural parents was never far from the surface. Unable to understand that sometimes people just aren’t in a place where they can raise the children they love. There was a place inside them that I could touch, but never fill, not unless they chose to let me in.

We too can get stuck, focusing on what we don’t have. Thinking that we must have done something to cause life to change so abruptly. Wondering how to navigate through new situations or challenges.

I lost my husband near the end of 2021. Life for me has changed a lot since then. As I was sitting in church on Sunday, I realized I had moved out of my quiet contemplative state and was easily conversing- connecting with people again. It wasn’t that grief had disappeared, but that somehow love had invaded the void, and I was healing.

Looking back at where I had been, I imagine myself a caterpillar that out of necessity had spun a chrysalis. And for a season I had been readjusting inside. Now, breaking free. I’m outside again, airing these new wings.

And in drawing close to my Heavenly Father, I’ve allowed Him not only to touch, but to fill my empty space with Himself. I find I am stronger in many ways, and I trust that when the wind is right, He’ll point me in the best direction, and I will fly again.

Healing hugs,

Debbie G

#butterflywings #healinghearts #gettingthroughgrief #why #emptyspaces

‘Indelible,’ a rarely used word today, yet a profoundly intimate one. It means we’ve made a mark.

Left an impression. We’re not easily forgotten. There’s power in that.

In life, we don’t start out with a concrete plan or an idea of where we’ll end up. Side-winding our way forward as opportunities arise is the norm. Each decision affecting the next step in our journey.

As I was writing my recently released novel, my personal life was balanced, not always an even flow in my family stream, but I was not often overwhelmed, like we find the main character, Elizabeth, in my book. A stressed-out ER nurse, in a full-blown panic attack.

I began writing this book almost ten years ago. Long before our current state of medical staffing shortages, and record number of high anxiety with the inability to do more than survive the day. The long hours and stress management have always been the bane of the medical field. Add to it the overwhelming sense of ‘battle’. Your life is on the line in this ‘tour of duty.’ (No offense those in military service. I believe this is a definite parallel in the level stress induced.) It has brought the medical community to a breaking point. So many seasoned providers have changed course. So, how can broken people move forward in strength?

In one of the pivotal scenes in my book, Elizabeth is found chatting with the cemetery caretaker, Kenneth Greyson. He says to her, ‘Some people leave an indelible impression and others only a wisp of a shadow… and you, my dear, have left many indelible impressions.’

I believe we’ve forgotten how to place ourselves in someone else’s shoes. And the way forward is by getting back to the basics. Remembering that each life touches another. When this man, the ‘Guardian of the Markers’, took time to invest in this young woman she was able to start piecing together a way forward, toward healing. Someone found her valuable.

I received a moving testimony this week from a woman who was reading my book and encountered a stressed-out medical employee at her doctor’s office. She connected the character in my book with this young woman and reached out to her in love. She offered kind words and prayer. The result was an overwhelming release of the worker’s tension, frustration, and tears. All because one person could ‘see her.’ Someone recognized her inner pain and reached out in love.

Our lives intersect with others… may our touch be indelible.

Blessings,

Debbie G

#softtouch #gentleanswer #walkinlove #stressed #healing

Written in 2021. I hope this will minister to others facing difficulties.

 My husband was hospitalized. Intubated because his lungs weren’t able to pull in enough oxygen. I visited him daily. If you’ve never been to an intensive care, it is for the truly sick. He was given medication to allow his body to battle the raging attack on his system, ‘asleep’ on a ventilator for more than a week.

The hospital was gracious in reducing his medication during my visits so we could interact. However, I soon discovered the downside to this medication was memory loss. At about day nine, they switched his medication to one that allowed him to be cognizant. He was shocked to discover that he had lost weeks of his life. Without recall of our conversations, my visits, or my comfort and support, he awakened to a room with a wall of family photos and several reports on his medical status.

Oh boy, did he have questions… many written notes. When he came to a place of understanding the overwhelming battle that he was facing, I could see discouragement in his eyes. So, I began to search my memory bank of the fun things we had done together. In his isolated room, to the rhythm of the beeping machines, I wove our memories back into the forefront of his brain. No longer battling his frustration at this current turn of events that was beyond his control, he now lingered over the adventures of our history together. And when I paused too long between stories he wrote on his dry erase board, ‘more memories.’

Medically, I was unable to help my husband, but God gave me this gift of time to be with him. I too had to let go of many things. Things out of my control, including my frustration at his inability to remember our interactions of the past month. But as revisiting the good times helped him, it also helped me, to focus on what I did have today. That he could be with me mentally, right now, in this moment. That I had the privilege of being able to transport him away from the swishing noise of his ventilator to places where we had enjoyed life together. We were on family trips, laughing at our children’s antics, and dancing in our kitchen to the music in our heads. And when the day was over, we had shared many smiles, and I got to enjoy his silent laughs.

And as I walked the long, lonely hallway on my way back to my car, I was grateful. Even if he didn’t remember this day, I would. I was learning to count my days and to hold precious memories as the treasure that they are.

Blessings,

Debbie G

Whatever is pure, lovely, praise-worthy-Philippians 4:8

Comfort one another- 1 Thessalonians 4:18

#lettinggo #countingblessings #comfortothers #walkingthelonghallway #truetreasures

Dreams, they’re personal and reveal depths we sometimes have to grapple with. I will admit, I am a dreamer. Having lived in a busy household for decades means that I processed a lot while I slept.

Answers to issues, personal failings, or the direction needed to proceed came in the early morning waking hours… in my quiet times of reflection or through a dream. I’ve had so many dreams that I now log them in a ‘dream journal.’

Lately though, I’ve been in a season of rest. Perhaps you could label it regrouping or pondering, but in essence it’s me waiting for direction. It’s the ‘what’s next, Lord’ question.

Sometimes I get a clear answer like ‘go here and do this.’ Other times the answer comes in circumstances unforeseen. And although I know God is working in these pauses, I’m anxious to get-on-with-it.

Do you ever wonder what is He doing in these pauses? I suspect that whatever lies ahead may need skills I’m to be building now or perhaps strengthening ones that I already possess. So, while I work on retaining what I know, I look for open doors. Discernment is needed before entering any door though, for not every door is open for my benefit.

My current dreams are motion related perhaps indicating that I may be ready for the next part of my journey. Do I have any dreamer friends out there? Remember that Joseph was a dreamer, and it took about twenty years of hardship for his dream to be realized. I’ll encourage you with the thought that God can speak to us in many ways. And not every dream is a direction dream, but it may be. As we prayerfully wait, we can trust that this time of preparation will help us in whatever challenges lie ahead.

Keep on doing what you know is right to do, and He’ll get you on your way soon enough. He leads, He directs, He guides… and it’ll bear fruit all in His perfect timing.

And trust that pauses are part of His plan. You can rest in that. 

Blessings,

Debbie G

Isaiah 26:3 You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

Genesis 37 The story of Joseph the dreamer.

#rest #pause #dreams #SeasonsOfRest #trustthepause

In many ways I’m a creature of habit. I like my day to start with hot black coffee. My breakfast routine is fairly consistent- eggs and veggies. And I try to stick to not-eating between meals. So, why am I so focused on food this morning? Because I also am learning to slow down.

In my busy years, (raising 7 that I homeschooled) life came at a hectic pace. My early hour alone was my place of sanity. And many times, we were eating on the fly as we traveled to sports practices, a music lesson or dropping someone off at work. Needless to say, our meals weren’t always healthy nor leisurely.

The past few months I’ve also been pondering gratitude, which brings me to this morning’s breakfast, but first let me back up a bit to a season pre-kids. I accepted an invitation to an extravagant dinner. A place where men were given a suit coat to wear if they showed up in too casual an attire for the ambience.

If having someone redressed behind you wasn’t uncomfortable enough, having the waiter lay a cloth napkin on your lap, and checking in at least twice during each serving certainly added to my unrest. Every course was followed by fresh water ‘to cleanse your palate.’

Unfortunately, the European-trained chef that showcased his remarkable skills fell on my ‘meat and potatoes’ appetite. Two hours and seven courses later, was enough for me to realize that I didn’t feel ‘polished’ enough to visit such a fancy establishment.

Now, back to this morning’s breakfast. My simple fare of eggs and veggies that fills my belly is more my style, but as I remembered that ‘refined meal’ from years ago I realized that the experience also entailed slowing down to appreciate the combination of textures.

So, this morning, I did that. I paused, savoring each bite. Which allowed me to experience the separate flavors. The pepper, the light coating of cheddar cheese, the various veggies. Unlike the busy years of child raising, I can now slowly chew on these morsels, grateful for not only the provision, but for this season of quiet. A place where hurry is being undone.

I am reminded that God too, offers us His Word in great chunks. Paragraphs, chapters, and books… How do I un-hurry here? Like that meal of long ago, I can nibble a one verse, savoring the various nuances and parallels. Who is this verse talking to? I take a few moments to hunt down the answer by looking up the references.  Great, now how can I apply this in my life today? By mentally slowing down and releasing what I think I already know, this pause ‘cleanses my palate’ so God can expand my taste buds with a fresh experience.

Who knows that today’s morsel might turn into a two-hour meal, but now I can appreciate the Master Chef’s recipes. I’m not concerned with embarrassing my companion with my lack of finesse or inappropriate etiquette for He accepts me as I am. Each ingredient He adds and every course He presents is leading me to the grand finale. Where I will stand in appreciation for the refinement He is now doing in me.

Bon Appetit,

Debbie G

Taste and see that the Lord is good. Psalm 34:8

#eggs #slowdown #savor #tasteandsee #cleanseyourpalate

She was only about twelve inches tall, but she spoke to me, and I bought her. Placing her atop my writing area, I hoped that perhaps my words would flow like her long flowing robe.

I loved that she held her heart outside her chest, evident that she held nothing back. She offered love to all who came her way. And as she gave it, her heart enlarged making room for more love.

And how my own heart lurched when she teetered and fell, breaking into pieces. So many pieces… I wasn’t sure she could be repaired. Life was busy then; I placed her broken form back above my writing space and shoved the pieces aside. There she sat for five years until I noticed her again today.

One wing missing. Her base broken and leaning against the books there on the shelf. Missing pieces. What to do with my broken angel? With so many broken places in life could I just let this broken thing go? I looked at her again… she was beyond repair, yet I still loved her.

Now grounded, she could only touch those nearby, but her spirit wasn’t compromised. In her leaning, she found strength in those nearby that supported her. Somehow, in her fragmented state, the bonds of friendship grew stronger.

I lean closer, I see that her heart hasn’t been touched… still complete, unchanged. Out in the open, holding all that she loves close to her chest.

I took her down off her long-standing spot… and dusted her off. Then gently replaced her on her perch, overlooking my words. She is a reminder that there is beauty no matter how broken. And if you can no longer fly, you can still love.

Remember to love…

Blessings,

Debbie G

What a difference ten months can make. I decided late in 2020 to start letting my hair go natural. I lightened my brown tones each time so it wouldn’t be such a harsh change. But for those who weren’t around for the process and compared my appearance to the photo on the back of my book, I’d hear, “Wow, I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

So, I had a new photo taken for the back of Book 2 (due out this summer).  I’m amazed at how much I’ve aged in the past year. Yeah, I know, gray hair means I’ve lived and apparently, I now have wisdom. Quite a bit of it actually!

But when I see the first photo, I recognize that I was in a state of grieving, almost a numbness. My husband and his beautiful momma had passed within a few months of each other, and I made a decision to just press on. This photo was me shouting to the heavens that I was going to complete what I had started, the book I had begun ten years earlier. I stood on the shoreline of the river we had both loved, in an effort to let my husband know I was ‘letting the baby fly.’ (a reference to my continuing to stall on moving forward with my novel)

Now, months after its release, I face new challenges without the numbness of that initial grief. I don’t have my handy computer tech to bounce things off of. No wisdom on what computer applications to add or to avoid on my webpage. I can personally attest that the adage is true, you don’t truly appreciate all the ways someone is a blessing until they’re no longer there.

In sharing this journey, I know it will help many get through their own season of grief. Some days I can focus on doing the next thing, and on others I simply crawl back into bed for a nap. Honestly, it helps.

So today, I wonder about the ‘wiser looking Debbie’.  (I refuse to call myself old- yet!) Learning to do things alone again. Changing the wording of ‘we’ to ‘I or me’. Adjusting your eating, sleeping, and working habits, it all takes time. Just like any other season of life there are trials and errors. Over it all, I try to give myself grace. I’m heading gently into this new year. I wish you all wisdom to fully show your love to those dear to yourself, and the grace to start over gently when necessary.

Blessings always,

~ Debbie G

#Grief #ForwardJourney #GivingGrace #GoingGray

https://booklocker.com/12575

Highlights of the late day’s sunshine on my trees kicked me into high gear. Quickly, I grabbed my camera. I started my day with some sunrise pictures now it’s time for some evening ones.
As I jog down my stairs and out the door, I realize that I will be standing in last of this day’s rays, and when I see the stump of a tree in my front lawn, I am reminded that these rays will never touch my husband again.
Grief slips in unannounced, and I battle back tears as I snap the first photo. The red tones were already deeper than I anticipated. I focus on getting the right foreground for the next set of shots.
Then it’s as if a voice whispers, ‘Remember this morning’s sunrise?’
I pause and recall the hint of pink I caught on the topside of a cloud through a break in the gray expanse.
Yes, my mind answers in response to the prompt. There was no glorious burst of color, but I did catch the wisp of pink.

Right now, in my evening sky, the sun is shining above the clouds. And not everyone has gray skies tonight. Anyone in an airplane can attest to the beauty of breaking through a dark sky into the glory of the sunshine above. It’s breathtaking.

I continue to walk and snap photos, almost on autopilot, capturing the beauty of my given sphere. Tears seem to ease and then a great sob of sadness again washes over me. He was a good man who loved me. Yes, I am thankful for the gift he was. I remind myself of these truths and am grateful that one of the gifts he gave me was the camera I was holding. I grip it tighter. It somehow reminds me constantly of his love.

Another internal whisper and I am halted by the thought that although my husband will not stand in the shadow of the sunshine here on earth, he is currently enjoying the full light of heaven’s glory. Oh, the thought to never have to face any kind of shadow ever again is pure bliss.

The diversion of capturing tonight’s sunset has worked its magic. From morning to sunset sky, I am not alone. My internal Comforter walks with me reminding me of these truths. I discover that my heart is more at peace each time I let myself grieve a bit. Gratefulness and sadness have become my friends as I journey to wholeness. And the light above guides me on the path ahead.

Peace and blessings, my friend. You are not alone.

Feel free to drop me a line.

Debbie G

#sunrisetosunset #notalone #notSidelinedbyGrief #JourneytoWholeness