Posted in barrier, book, boundary, change, feelings, God, heart, Holy Spirit, hurt, listen, memoir, path, prayer, quote, rejection, scripture, season, spirit, Spiritual, time, write

A Turned-Up Hand

“There is a time and place for everything an old saying goes probably based on the holy scripture in Ecclesiastes. I know it is not what you or I want to hear after a turned-up hand shows up in the face. I have had plenty of turned-up hands, rejections, and boundaries set lately. But a boundary set gives me permission to thrive and live within the boundaries God has given me.

“There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens …” Ecclesiastes 3:1

For the time being I have laid aside teaching culinary classes. The continuing education courses at the local community college have made too many changes I am comfortable with. Hence, the boundary set, and I take heed to. I will and have taken opportunities to teach culinary and writing-related workshops to young adults and adults. I am open to more venues to share my love of cooking and writing. In the meantime, God has prepared a time space whereas I can be more available at the senior center. Besides being a culinary professional, I have taken on more training and duties with regards to inventory and ordering at this season.

“I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” ~ Flannery O’Connor 

I have completed the first draft of my memoir. I have two readers combing through proofreading and making edit suggestions. The next steps are a professional editor, then the publisher. I have folks in mind for each of those roles for my first full-length book. There may be a hand turned-up in the process, but those brakes are a barrier that leads me to something better. In the meantime, I completed a 49 haiku challenge, seven haikus written for seven days. It was very therapeutic, and I was able to see my thought and feeling process after a difficult week. Writing does that for me. A green light means “go for it”! I have taken the opportunity to have my haikus printed into a mini book entitled Balancing The Seesaw.

Prayer was a very significant part of my difficult week, too. Relationships hurt sometimes. I was able to give my feelings of rejection to our God, who “knows when I sit and stand … understands my thoughts from afar” as Psalms 139:2 tells me. Are you listening to your own comfort zone? What stop sign have you encountered? What has God laid on your heart? What new path is the Spirit directing you to? There is a season for everything.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time for hate,
a time for war, and a time for peace.

~Ecclesiastes 3: 1 – 8

Posted in age, body, comfort, death, eyes, Family, God, grandparent, health, heaven, Jesus, life, Physical, scripture, spirit, Spiritual, words

Our Bodies Wither

As I age I am more aware of the limitations of my own body. I was never an accomplished athlete, although I played a mean game of tetherball as a kid as well as softball in my youth into my middle adult years. I have been fortunate with fairly good health. So many do not have this. These past few years I also have been made aware of death. Another family member has passed away, not to return to this earthly life but pass onto his heavenly body. Thank God for the eternal salvation he and we have in Christ Jesus!

Aging

Aging came with hard work and active play.

Hands in the dirt, body stooped downward

to grow the trees and flowers to beauty full array.

Age spots, stretch marks, and belly rolls came

with each sunburn, baby, and those homemade recipes.

Hopefully aging with grace into this older woman I became.

These wrinkles do not melt away with the sun.

Unlike the layers of ice on the window

that drip, drip with the warmth of the sun.

Somehow those suntans subtract, then add age.

Camouflaged with lotions and makeup,

those wrinkles became more defined with age.

A gray here and there in my already multi-colored hair.

My first streak of silver looked intentional,

But one streak turned into more streaks to wear.

Bald patches, seasons of stress replaced with fun.

Hair loss eventually replaced with more white,

now volumes pulled up into a messy grandma’s bun.

Waking up in the morning it is harder to move.

House cleaning and plant tending chores

challenge this aging body to keep a groove.

That arthritis causes the joints to painfully inflame.

The irony is to keep moving those joints,

alternatively, idleness will be the ultimate blame.

The eyes grow dimmer, reading glasses to aid.

Fashion aware by the style and color of the lens’ frame

with these circling back around with a 40-year cycle made.

“Grandma glasses”, “grandma jeans”, “grandma bun”, they say.

What does it matter, I learn to comfort dress,

live how I want, with what I want, and with whom I may.

Memories come and go with each passing day.

Past photos capture and poems reflect,

some words said and not said are regrets today.

Other words remembered bringing warmth to the heart.

Like “I love you”, “I do”, “forgive me”, “I forgive you”,

and the wordless, kind gestures play a lasting part.

With you by my side come what may.

We will weather the threatening storms together

even to your last breath and my last day.

No matter who passes on first, the aging body will have its last word.

That word, the hardest will be saying “goodbye”,

Although our ageless spirits live on as promised by God’s word.

Anna Gall ~ January 21, 2024

"O death, where then your victory? Where then your sting? For sin—the sting that causes death—will all be gone; and the law, which reveals our sins, will no longer be our judge. How we thank God for all of this! It is He who makes us victorious through Jesus Christ our Lord!"
~ 1 Corinthians 15:55 - 57
Posted in care, color, friends, Holy Spirit, life, pain, People, season, soul, Spiritual, strength, therapy, words, write

Teapot Street

Right now life is painful. I cannot write specific details here, but I can share how God is watching over Dean and I during this time. Our Father has provided a few wise people in our lives, who are available to be a support, pray for us, and speak the truth to us. As scripture says “the truth will set you free.” Working through this rough patch, I write and write and write. This type of therapy is healthy for me.

“Where are all of the people who want little cottages in the woods with shelves full of books and gardens full of herbs?” ~ Brooke Hampton

Years ago I wrote a poem to a special Teddy Bear. This furry companion was with me from the beginning as a mother. I still have him. I recently discovered this poem from a box with other poems I had written, too. Today I write about a teapot fairyland, specifically on Teapot Street.

Teapot Street

Summer winds up into the autumn season

like the amber string of lights wind up on a teapot

illuminating the warm colors of the season.

Orange pumpkins plump alongside the teapot dwelling,

waiting to cast a whimsical glow at nighttime.

Cakes and pies resting on the windowsill

to feed hungry souls like the Word of God feeds us.

Trees sway in the crisp wind like the Holy Spirit

breathes strength and life into His people.

Friendship Bistro is set on Teapot Street

providing a comfy menu to partake for a special teatime.

Charm and caring hearts throughout the street.

Friends will join us on Teapot Street this autumn,

pray for and walk with us in this season of our lives.

Posted in anger, daughter, disabled, earth, empty, faith, Family, fear, feelings, gift, God, grandchild, grief, heart, home, house, insecurity, Jesus, life, pain, poverty, prayer, quote, resilience, season, seed, son, sorrow, time, truth, worry

Prayer Like A Lace Shawl

Snow has covered the roof tops, grass, leaves, and trees like a lace shawl early this morning. Soft, no harshness with this snowfall. But life has been harsh this past month, like a blizzard. Details to provide for my daughter’s family after their house burned down Christmas night are harsh realities. Life has not been a bed of roses for my daughter most of her life. Disabled with a nerve disorder caused by an error during a disc surgery went undetected for months. Consequently, she has and still suffers with pain most every minute of her day. Every day. Most days she is on top of it, smiles at the days to come. At this bleak season of her life, she lives one day at a time, one hour at a time, and one minute at a time while those details are being covered in prayer. Prayer like a lace shawl does not completely cover the substance underneath. You still see glimpses of rawness; although the bare reality by a teaspoon instead of gallons at any given moment. Loss, grief, disbelief, emptiness, doing without, fear, doubt, anger, just surviving, insecurity, faith at times smaller than a mustard seed, coping, resilience rising, moving a finger at a time and then a hand to say “I am alive” are some of the heart’s feelings they share. God completely envelope my daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren with Your love this very moment.

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan;
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain,
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty —
Jesus Christ.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am? —
If I were a Shepherd
I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man
I would do my part, —
Yet what I can I give Him, —
Give my heart.

“In this bleak mid-winter” as the Christina Rossetti poem and lyrics go, “yet what I can give Him, give my heart.” As we conclude the Advent season, I resound “I can and will give my heart”. We all must in order to survive this harsh world.