Strange, lovely, God-touched week full of God's lovingkindness.

On Monday, I was outside praying. We had no money in the house and I was wondering what to do until the end of the month when my pension and/or younger son's disability check came in. I prayed and prayed then got the impression I should look behind my mother's picture. Which is a weird impression. I walked inside and made a bee-line for it and dismantled the picture. Inside it was an envelope mailed to us six years ago after my mother's death. I hadn't opened the envelope. And no one else did. The envelope was from my mother's best friend. I opened it. Inside was $20. It had been there for six years. My husband and I burst out laughing. We pondered how many things we "have" but don't know we have. This was the first of our blessings from unopened envelopes, blessings lying around we weren't aware of.

On Tuesday, I found an unopened envelope. I hadn't been looking for it and it seemed to just appear under a pile of books on one of our bookshelves. The envelop was crumpled and a mess which means it'd been in our house for a while. Weeks? Months? Who knows? But there it was. I opened it. It was a gift card for Dollar General, a chain in Florida. I had entered the sweepstakes in order to win free food for my son going to college in FL. So , that was our second unopened envelope, unknown blessing that had been around that we weren't aware of.

On Wednesday, the social worker came. I wasn't too pleased but I decided to be loving and happy about it...to humble myself and not be nasty. Anyway, she was a sweetie. (That's saying much because I generally don't like social workers and we had refused to take any benefits for younger son for 19 years although we should've gotten money etc...cause I didn't want social workers or social services in our life.) She told us younger son had Medicaid and has had it for a year (since we signed up for his monetary benefits. Well, that surprised us. But if that nasty mean person in younger son's school hadn't made a stink and reported us to DSS (another long story) we would never knave known that. So yes, another blessing. Younger son has had medicaid for a year and we didn't know it...and we so wanted to give him a tooth cleaning. So i will reluctantly praise the annoying person at his school. Another unopened letter blessing.

The next day, Thursday, I said to hubby, "I am going out now to pick up any thrown away scratch-off lottery tickets. Just in case someone one but did't realize he won. I will write you a check for $500,000." He said, "Make that you'll win $1.5 million. So we'll get $750K after taxes." I said, "Okay, done! Will do." I went out not really meaning to pick up any lottery ticket but I found one so I thought... heck, why not? I picked up the scratch off lottery ticket and it was one of those crossword puzzle type with various letters forming words. I was so busy looking at the letters and re-scratching off the letters in "my box" that I didn't notice at first. But suddenly I noticed and there it was the word, MYRTLE. This myrtle thing has popped up in a dream of restoration Luke had for us and it's not every day one sees the word "myrtle." I got so happy. I felt it was God saying, "Cheer up. Don't worry. Things will be restored in your life."

So, yesterday, on Friday, I'm stressed again. (Poor God, He has to deal with my stress so often.) I was thinking of the breast ductogram/biopsy, the mortgage we owe, the property and school tax we owe, the bills we owe...the fact that hubby is unemployed after 15 years and benefits are running out, all sorts of stuff was just stressing me out. I decided to go for a walk and buy a lotto ticket or two. (All hubby had on him was $2.00 and I took it.) So off I went and bought two scratch offs -- cause I get very stressed and start looking for easy outs like lotto to save me-- and nada!) So I go on my walk feeling utterly despondent that I gave up our last two dollars for nothing. (Although I knew my pension would come today and younger son's benefits and we'd have a bit of money to pay the smaller bills.)

So I'm worried as heck as I walk and I came to an intersection about three blocks away from my house. I was about to turn right but the still small voice said to turn left. So I did. I continue and as I walked I continued worrying. Then suddenly, I just breathed a sigh and said, "Okay, God, I'll trust you." I meant basically: "God, whatever happens, I will trust you. Good or bad I will trust you."

The second - I mean the EXACT second I said it-- a little brown songbird (with a white stripe) flew around me, tapped my back and sat on a nearby tree it's tail feathers upturned. I had never seen a bird fly so low and there was no doubt the bird was focused on me. It wasn't an accidental bump. I thought, "Okay" then continued walking. The bird flew off the tree, into the road, made a sharp V turn in the middle of the road then flew all around me and touched my back again. Then it went on the tree again. I thought okay. That wasn't accidental. I looked at the bird and said, "Yeah, what is it?" IT totally focused on me, staring at me as if it was trying to communicate with me.

I thought, "Okay, if you aren't going to talk to me, I'll go on" then continued walking. The bird flew off the tree again, into the road again, made another sharp V turn in the middle of the road then flew all around me and touched my back yet again. Then it went on another tree again. I thought, "Okay, that is weird. What does this bird have to do with me? It's not accidental. Is it my clothes? Maybe he doesn't like my dress. Maybe it's the color attracting him. Maybe he has issues. But he wasn't mean to me. He hadn't pecked me. I looked at the bird, held out my hand and said, "Yeah, what is it? Come here." It didn't come but remained totally looking at me, staring at me.

"Whatever," I said, and continued walking. In some fairytale part of my mind, I'm thinking "three" is the perfect number. The bird has done it three times. It is now over.

But nooooooooooo! This bird did the same thing again two more times. The same exact thing. For a total of five times. I thought, "Okay, maybe God is protecting me. Maybe if the bird hadn't delayed me up here, I would have crossed the road down there and something odd would've happened to me...or maybe I would've bumped into someone I shouldn't meet. Who knows?" But I kept thinking also, "Wow! this thing started the second I said, "Okay, God, I'll trust you."

So I come home and was chatting to Jessica, my best sweet friend on gmail. And what does she say? The SAME thing had happened to her that morning! Not the bird swirling around 5 times. But a bird seeming to cheer her on. She said she had thought it might have been an angel.

God is so good. To do that for both of us on the same day!

Aznv.tv

General Update

A Cry For Hire -- The pulley world story seems to be asking me to decide if I should turn it into YA

Above her, the rain glistened in gray parallel sheets, opaque and gossamer like veils, almost blocking her view of the sky. Below her, toward the unseen depth, it lost itself in a gray steam rose  Around her, all was almost impenetrable fog. If she squinted and shaded her eyes, she could almost see the houses near at hand, but not the houses that dotted the far off landscape.

The rain made her feel damp but not cold and the morning would have been pleasant enough if not for the smell of oil used to grease the axles and the motors. 

Night Wife -- Should it be urban fantasy or hen-lit? And can I really get that deeply into an erotic story? Christian demon-lover thingey? Gotta think

She took a cab home, of course. All during the long trip, she peered out at the heavily-falling snow, feeling the weight of her memories. How cold and heavy snow was! She supposed snow was a good thing. Winter was a good thing, as well. After all, some countries had little precipitation in winter? And what happened in summer? Drought. She often thought like that: seeing life and events as metaphor. When her friend’s cat gave birth to two cats, Jewel had taken their individual temperaments as a warning from heaven. Both kittens had been shy and skittish around humans. But their reactions to touches had been different. One of them stood shyly by, shivering. The other, equally shy, had been plain nasty. No one liked it. No one had hurt them, Jewel told herself. But I’ve been hurt. Yet we were both afraid of the world. And Fraidy turned people off.

She had been careful not to turn people off. That’s where the charm had come in. 

Constant Tower -- Decided it had to have religion at the center, so am revamping the muddle in the middle.

Several hours later, Psal clutched a newborn boy in his left arm. The infant’s palate was split, the nose cleft in two. With his right hand, he was attempting to ward off Cyrt --one of the chief captains, and is father’s close kinsman. A jagged scar on his right cheek earned in a past skirmish with a Peacock clan, but the scar on his soul cut even deeper. Dagger drawn, that merciless warrior tossed the knife from his left hand to his right and back again. The blade flashed rhythmically, like oil lanterns flickering in the morning light.

            As tears trailed down Psal’s cheek, he reproached himself for weeping. King Nahas stood near the hearth, a look of disdain on his face -- obviously shamed by his son’s weakness. Near a window, his mother Queen Hinis also threw him a scornful look.

            Nevertheless, the boy pleaded. “King Nahas, Father. Queen Hinis, Mother. Allow the child to live.” 

My Life as an Onion -- Deciding how into evil main character is.

He directed me toward a balcony on the northern side of the house and pointed toward a small house located toward the back of the property. The carriage house. It stood near the garage and the servants’ quarters, halfway between the Moreau mansion and the greenhouse. A long road –lined on either side with giant sunflowers-- connected the circular driveway of the carriage house to that of the main mansion.

“Wow,” I said, “in the dark, the sunflowers look like giants. And the ones who still have their heads look like they’re in mourning. Like they’re at a funeral or something. Look, some of them are so still, and some are kinda swaying. I’d hate to walk that road, especially at night, with all the flowers grieving like that. And the ones with the flower tops cut off . . . don’t they look like they could reach out with their branches and grab a person walking alone? Don’t you think the branches look like beckoning arms?”

I didn’t hear an answer. When I turned to him, he was looking at me curiously. In the wintry twilight, his face seemed to go white with pain. I sensed my talk of funerals had brought his brother to his mind. “Uh,” I stammered. “I’m, ah, I’m sorry. I’m a poetry nut.” 

Waiting to hear from doctor about the operation. Dreading that it's the Big C but will be strong. I have great stories to tell.

God is so good.

There I was lying in bed at 3:1m despairing of sleep and generally being in a morbid mood. After Rodlyn's death, and the CPS situation and now this weird left breast series of mammo test, plus the other issues...well, I was saying to God, "Whatever happens, I'm way too tired to fight. Life is crappy, has been crappy for 27 years, and I just don't have any strength left. You understand, Lord, that I'm only hanging on because Gabe needs me. And you understand, Lord, how much you'll have to do to restore everything in our lives, Gabe's health, my health, finances, etc? I can see you doing a little patchwork here and there in our lives...but can you restore all? "

So in the middle of this whining, I hear older son rush downstairs. Several minutes later, he comes back up and comes into our room.

He had been sleeping and he heard a male voice call out to him. (This kid was looking at a booty-clappin video all night, mind you. And he always seems to be looking up girls to sleep with on facebook but who am I to tell God who He should speak to? And God has given Logan some strange hints and signs all this kid's life. So I suspect God ius waiting for older son to get serious.)

Anyway, Logan says he heard a voice wake him up out of sleep. So he jumps up out of bed. He looks around, realizes the voice isn't from anyone physical in the room. He's sitting there, then he gets this thought in his mind to go downstairs to the kitchen. Not something he wants to do but hey.... So he goes downstairs and what does he see? Mr Gabe has put on a pot of rice -- without water-- and the flame is lit and rising all over. (Oh yes, we've had fires before in this kitchen...which God also saved us from but which managed to burn the cupboards. and come to think of it, when I was a kid, we also had a kitchen fire but that one a dog saved me.)
Anyway, older son takes younger son and turns everything off.

Then hubby wakes up this morning and says, "I had a dream that we came back to our house and it was totally beautiful and restored with great landscaping. And I spoke with one of the workmen because a tree was in our yard. I asked him why the tree was there and he said, "Because Carole wanted it. It's a myrtle."

In describing the house, Hubby said, "It was our house, not a new one. But it was restored and as beautiful as a house of this type can be....so it wasn't us in a palace or anything. But our own life restored."

Now, my husband doesn't really think much about myrtles. Nor do I speak about myrtles. But Myrtles are a sign of restoration in the Bible. Instead of the brier will come up the myrtle...and I will restore you. Also a symbol of Feast of Tabernacles...and also a symbol of the healing power of Apollo. And in my dreams, workmen always are angels. So in effect, Luke's dream was: "Tell Carole there will be restoration in your life...and if she doesn't believe it -- if she thinks this is coming out of your own mind, show her the Myrtle tree. She knows you don't think about myrtles."

When he told me the dream and I figured out the interpretation I burst out laughing. God is always so sweet at winking at me. And the upshot also was: "Even if you aren't sleeping or having a vision, Carole, I can still talk to your son and to y our husband. You aren't the only one I talk to in your family.." This comfort brought me so much peace.

Something on Feast of Tabernacles
 http://www.plim.org/FeasttabJan96.html

It says, basically, the feast was to remind the Jews that God brought them out of Egypt (they had to dwell in booths), and could bring them out of any type of bondage.

When hubby and I read the passover story, I broke down and just cried and cried for joy and for hope

I was like...wow, Luke, do you realize not one of these people were sick, their shoes waxed not old during the entire journey, and they came out rich...and I just got so amazed at the way we've been taught to limit God, to not dream big

Recently, God was telling me that we've been taught when we pray for people to pray as if God directs his energy toward a specific part. God, heal her eye. God heal her arthritis. But if we open our heart and faith to God to bring all of himself into a situation, wouldn't he make us everywhit whole? It's easier to make the all whole than to just fix a little part of it. That really spoke to me. So am praying for everything wrong with Gabe to be fixed...and everything wrong with me to be fixed...and praying for our own Passover. That's why I burst into tears when I read the passover story. The allness of it.

Free Fall by William Golding

Free Fall
by William Golding

Paperback: 264 pages

Publisher: Mariner Books; 6th THUS edition (March 17, 2003)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0156028239

ISBN-13: 978-0156028233

"I was standing up, pressed back against the wall, trying not to breathe. I got there in the one movement my body made. My body had many hairs on legs and belly and chest and head, and each had its own life; each inherited a hundred thousand years of loathing and fear for things that scuttle or slide or crawl." from Free Fall

Sammy Mountjoy, artist, rises from poverty and an obscure birth to see his pictures hung in the Tate Gallery. Swept into World War II, he is taken as a prisoner-of-war, threatened with torture, then locked in a cell of total darkness to wait. He emerges from his cell like Lazarus from the tomb, seeing infinity in a grain of sand and eternity in an hour. Transfigured by his ordeal, he begins to realize what man can be and what he has gradually made of himself through his own choices. He determines to find the exact point at which the accumulated weight of those choices has deprived him of free will. 

Creedence Clearwater Revival