Jewels of Encouragement: Indisposable

Has it really been since before Christmas that I've posted here? Wow, I need to get my rear in gear.

I haven't been writing much lately, but I do have a new devotion to share with you today at Jewels of Encouragment. The original title was Disposable, but when it came time to type it in the Blogger "title" block, I thought about what I wanted you to "take away", and  typed Indisposable instead.  Click through and tell me if I made the right choice, even though  spellchecker says it's not a word. :)

Love and Blessings,
Cat

Elf-ish

My friend, "Aunt" Bonnie, is a Christmas Elf. She has been posting on Facebook about at least one "act of kindness" she's done each day this December. (She doesn't normally "advertise" her elfisms ,but I have no doubt she's on silent duty 365 days a year. Her goal in this is to encourage others to be "elves" also.) Today she posted that she was distracted by the passing of a friend and hadn't done any good deed except to pray. (The most important good deed in my book.) I replied that I'd done three elf acts so she was covered, and she asked me to tell her about it. My answer is way too long for an FB status reply, so I'm posting it here...


I have some awesome work hours at the church. On Fridays, I get off work at 11:30 am -- technically, that is. In reality, I rarely leave on time (be it Friday, Thursday, or any other days.) I don't mind; an extra 30 minutes or an hour is nothing compared to God's many gifts to me, so how can I honestly complain? But today... well...Ummmm, no.

Today is the Friday before the third Sunday of Advent. You can imagine how crazy-busy it must be at a church at this time of year, so I didn't get home today until my regular quitting time, and then answered work-related texts and worked from home until close to 6pm. And my shopping still isn't done and my Christmas tree is still in the attic. I had planned to take care of those things, plus laundry, etc. this afternoon.

Yeah, I know, I've got it rough. *wink* But I'm not here to complain - I'm here to tell you about how God used those extra hours I put in, not only to complete stuff that had to be done, but to bless others through me.

If I hadn't been there this afternoon (when I really wanted to be somewhere else) none of the following might have taken place:

 - A homebound, senior adult just out of physical rehab wouldn't have lights or heat tomorrow morning.
 - A 10-year old, coatless girl wouldn't have a brand-new winter coat - her only one.
 - The family attending the memorial service for their beloved patriarch might not have meat for their fellowship lunch tomorrow.
 - A mother might not have Santa presents under the tree for her children this Christmas.
 - A single mom might not have food for her children tonight.

I didn't orchestrate or provide any of the above needs--I was just God's liaison; His hands and feet--used by Him to ensure that His blessings were received by others. Sometimes, all we have to do is be there, in His place and at that time, in order for God to work through us. It doesn't take any effort on our part except to show up.

Back to Aunt Bonnie.... last night she shared this Facebook meme:




and I replied, "But is it okay if sometimes I DO ask God to make my life easier?" Being Bonnie, she answered, "Absolutely, just remember He may not answer the way you wanted or expected..." Boy, she got that right. And so did I when I said, "I always love His answers, and I love that I can ask Him anything..."

There IS a Difference

The difference between Santa Claus and Jesus Christ:

Santa says: “You’d better not pout”.
Jesus says: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28

Santa says: “You’d better not cry”.
Jesus says: "[I] keep track of all [your] sorrows. [I] have collected all [your] tears in [my] bottle." Psalm 56:8

Santa says: “You’d better be good”.
Jesus says : "No one is good except God alone." Mark 10:18

Santa says: “You’d better watch out, I’m telling you why”
Okay, Jesus says that too. But the “why” is for a different reason. Santa says he'll bring you your earthly desires one day a year IF you do what he says. Jesus says He give you all your earthly needs PLUS unfathomable, heavenly, eternal riches -- even when you fail. And, unlike Santa, Jesus ALWAYS delivers.

Jesus’ love is unconditional. All He asks is that you love Him back.

 

Christmas blessings and LOVE,

Cat

Friday Fiction: Such a Time

Fellow writers,

Do you have dozens (or more) fits and story-starts in your writing file? I have more than I can remember writing. I was scrolling through my files today looking for something to share for Fiction Friday, and didn't recognize "Such a Time". I vaguely remember writing it, but I have no idea where I was going. Reading this snippet for what seemed like the first time, I realized it might be able to stand alone as a very flashy flash fiction, along the lines of Jan's "100 Words" series (but more like 175 words.) Or I might expand it .... some day. :)

Such a Time

Abigail shaded her eyes and searched the sky for a hint of a cloud, any small sign that the Lord would bless them with rain today. The clear blue morning seemed to mock her prayers; the devil’s laughter came disguised as sunshine.

She carried the dented tin bucket to the creek, hoping that she’d be able to fill it at the wade-in without trekking another quarter mile to the murky pool in the hollows. Without rain, the creek had grown thinner and stingier each day, much like her meager garden… and her mood.

It did no good to lament clear, cool water easily obtained with a few pumps of a handle and food she could collect from the market instead of from the sweat of her brow. Those days were behind her, as were company calling daily, socials in the square, and worshipping behind solid walls and stained glass. As were her family and her friends.

Michael should be home by sunset. She prayed he would bring with him a letter from home.

~~~

Yeah, that's it. *smile*.

But there is more reading to be read at Sara's blog today! Come check it out at

Friday blessings,
Cat

Friday Fiction: The Year the Magic Died

I'm very late for Fiction Friday, and this isn't even fiction... except where my early childhood memories might be jumbled. This vignette of Christmases past was inspired by the Faithwriters.com challenge topic "Curiosity killed the cat", and had I started writing before bedtime the night before it was due, I might have turned it into something more.

Vonnie (Yvonne Blake) is our lovely and loving hostess for Fiction Friday this week. Drop by My Back Porch to read her story about a different kind of turkey, plus follow links to more original writing. And don't be shy - add your own link!

The Year the Magic Died

Memories...

A tiny me, sitting in my big sister’s lap. She’s saying, “Santa brings us presents on Christmas because that’s how he celebrates Jesus’ birthday.” I wonder at the logic of that, and decide it makes sense.

A slightly less tiny me, sitting in my big sister’s lap. She’s explaining, “Mom’s handwriting is on the tags because Santa doesn’t label them.  But Mom knows who the presents are for, and she puts tags on them.”  I don’t question that answer. It makes sense to me.

An excited little me, snuggled in bed with my big sister. She’s hushing me. “Santa has a lot of houses to visit, and a lot of presents to deliver. How can his sleigh hold them all? He came early and put some of ours in the storeroom. Now be very quiet so he won’t know you hear him. Pretend you’re asleep.” And pretty soon I was.

A little bit bigger me, in the den with my big brothers. One of them brags, “I bet we can guess what Santa is going to bring you for Christmas. We’ll write it down to prove we’re right.” On Christmas day, we all looked, and their predictions proved true for both my little sister and me. At first I was amazed, then I grew skeptical.

A slightly older and taller me, in the den with my big brothers. One of them confides, “Our Christmas presents are in the storeroom.”  I knew I shouldn’t, and I didn’t… for a while. But then I did. I snuck in and I snooped. And then I knew the truth. I mean, I kinda knew before, but now I really knew.  And on Christmas morning, when I saw those same presents under the tree, I felt like the magic of Christmas died.

An even bigger me, huddled behind closed doors with Mom. “Will you help me wrap some presents?” She knew that I knew, and the magic of Christmas was reborn as I gleefully and giddily wrapped presents from “Santa” for my little sister. Later that night, we read one of my favorite Christmas storybooks about animals at the Nativity. On Christmas morning, I smiled when I sat that “Santa” had added my name to a couple of the tags on my sister’s presents.

And the real magic of Christmas lived on.

Friday Fiction: Scurvy Sue and the Quest for Abundant Treasure

Ahoy, Mateys! 'Tis a most glorious day in Georgia! Perfect weather for International Talk Like a Pirate Day! Sweet Sara Harricharan is hosting Fiction Friday today - she's got the linky thing on her blog if you'd like to join the fun!

This family-friendly, pirate adventure bubbled out of my imagination while brainstorming and outlining possible creative directions and Biblical lessons for my church's own "The Pirates of the I-Don't-Carrribean VBS (Vacation Bible School) a couple of years ago. We stepped out of the box - the box of curriculum and the box of expectation, and created something new. Thanks, Mr. Blake, for the inspiration.

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Scurvy Sue and the Quest for Abundant Treasure

Scurvy Sue scurried up the gangplank, clutching her leather satchel to her bosom. "Pete! Joe-Joe!" Her boot-falls echoed through the Merry Marauder as she ran pell-mell across the scarred wooden deck.

A burly man crashed through the door from the hold, sword drawn and eyes on fire. "What scallywags be on yer tail, me girl? I'll take their sorry heads off."

"Ye like t'take me own head off, ye oaf. Watch where ye be swingin' that saber. Ye surely be dubbed correctly, Perilous Pete."

A barking laugh nearly made Sue drop the satchel. She peered around Pete's massive bulk to see Joe-Joe hitching up his breeches.

"There ye be Jolly Joe. Not everythin's a laughin' matter."

"We all be carryin' monikers t'fit us, Scurvy Sue." Joe-Joe sniffed her and winced. "Now, what be causin' this ruckus if yer not bein' hounded by no-good landlubbers?"

"Treasure," Sue whispered, eyes darting left and right. She leaned closer, patting her worn bag. "I found a map."

"Shiver me timbers!" Pete roared. "Up anchor, hoist the sails. Let's be heavin' ho!"

"Quiet yer trap," Sue hissed. "We got some decodin' t'do first."

Safely behind closed doors, Sue laid her satchel on the wobbling table. "I might o'been misleadin' ye a wee bit. 'Tis not a picture map. More like a word map. But I snatched the decodin' book, too."

Pete's eyes flared, but Joe-Joe stopped him with a smirk.

Sue pulled a yellowed page from her bag. "This be the map. See that at the top? The Road to Abundant Treasure."

Pete scowled. "Don't be lookin' like no road t'me. It' be lookin' like a lot o'words. An' we don't travel by road, we sail the seas. What be the meanin' o'these letters an' numbers?"

"It's some secret code. But look here." Sue took a thick, leather-bound book out of her satchel.

Joe-Joe's eyes widened at the golden words on the cover. "Holy Bible. That missionary ship we looted had some o'em. Where'd ye pilfer this?"

"Big fancy church. I thought t'find some doubloons lyin' 'round."

"Looky here, twas written by the late King himself. Thar's his moniker." A giggle burbled from Joe-Joe's throat. "Kings surely know where treasure's hidden, arrr?"

"Arrr, Joe-Joe. Me thoughts ezactly. That be why I took it. The map was inside." Sue crossed her arms and stood her full 5'2". "So let's be crackin' the code."

The three sat and bumped their dirty heads together over the documents.

"Gadzooks, Sue. Can ye back off a bit? Yer stench be stingin' me nostrils." Pete rubbed his nose. "Here, ye take the book, an' Joe-Joe the map. I'll do the thinkin'."

Sue snorted, but chose not to mention that besides, he couldn't read. "Right then. Joe-Joe, what be the first clue?"

"Romans 3 23. Looks like lots of 'em be startin' with Romans."

Sue gasped. "Blimey! This frontish page holds a list o'names an' suches. One o'em be Romans. There be a number aside o'it too, but I think it be a page number." She flipped through the thick book and found the right place. "Arrrr, there be numbers all through this writin'. What be the rest o'that clue?"

"3 an' 23."

Sue bent closer, scanning the lines with her finger. "Aha!  I think I cracked the code! Listen t'this: 'For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.'"

Pete smacked the table. "Arrrr. We be pirates. 'Course we be sinnin'."

"But it said "ALL have sinned." Joe-Joe said. His puzzled face didn't erase his steady smile. "That'd include priests an' the good king hisself. Let's gander at the next one. Sue, find Romans 5 an' 8"

She flipped through a few pages, and scanned the text. "It says, "But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.' Well, that don't be makin' much sense."

Pete scowled. "I be thinkin' we ain't close t'no treasure yet."

On and on they deciphered clues. With each code, Sue's eyes grew softer, her face brighter, and her smile wider.

"Scurvy Sue, ye be grinnin' like Jolly Joe. If ye've figured where 'bouts t'set our compass, attest an' let's heave off. Thar be treasure awaitin'!"

"Me thinks I was mistaken."

Pete sprang up, sending his chair crashing over. "Arrrr! Ya mean t'say thar's no treasure?"

"Oh, thar be treasure alrighty. But it's not out thar. The treasure's in here." She thumped her fist against her chest.

Joe-Joe nodded. "I'm thinkin ye might be right, me curvy wench. Back t'the church?"

"Aye. Back t'the church. T'find someone t'explain this abundant treasure we've discovered."

(c) Catrina Bradley 2012

ba1969

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Catrina Bradley

"God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes." 
Psalm 18:24 (The Message)

Friday Fiction: Play Me That Tiger Rag

Fiction Friday is at home with sweet Sara today -
be sure to visit her awesome blog, Fiction Fusion,
to find the Linky tool and join the fiction fun!!

I am not a fan of football, but I tolerate it for those I love. I've even been known to have fun watching a game. And being there in person is always a good time. This little ditty is in celebration of college football opening weekend, and in honor of my husband's alma mater. The setting and characters are real, but the rest is all fiction. Have fun!

Play Me That Tiger Rag

"The game you're attending
Depends on one hue;
Wear it; proclaim it,
At all costs to you.

"Do not don a t-shirt
Of red or of black!
You must wear the Orange
Or risk an attack.

"The Tigers of Clemson
Are king of this day;
The orange and purple -
They WILL have their way!"

I scoured my closet;
A tiger I sought;
The closest to orange --
A pale apricot.

(I did this because it's
My husband's one passion.
I rarely buy orange, see
It's not quite my fashion.)

I put on the t-shirt
And strode to the kitchen;
Where hubby awaited
Just itchin' to pitch in.

Although I'd been told,
and my brain is not lame,
I listened with poise
As he told me again:

"The snacks and the drinks,
Hon, they cannot be scorned;
Be clever; inventive!
Pumpkin pie! Candy corn!

"Is it orange? Then yes,
It will be most accepted.
Bring Cheetoes, Doritos.
Faux pas? Soon detected."

Do I need reminding
Of consequence grim,
If I make a fool of
Big tiger fan him?

On this, my first trip
To his old college haunts,
He'll not be subjected
To his buddy's taunts.

We can't take my car,
See, it's bright cherry-red,
So we pack up his pick-up;
It's full steam ahead.

Stuck to his truck with
Mechanical claws
Are flags of bright orange
Decked out with white paws.

We pull in the lot
To a welcome of cheers;
His friends are all jumping
And waving their beers

Hubby hops out and
Heads straight for our ice chest
While I contemplate
If I failed my first test.

I open my door and
Step out on the dirt,
Straighten my shoulders
And smooth out my shirt.

One look at his face
When he pulls from the ice
A bright can of soda
Says this won't be nice.

"Um, honey, is this
What you brought us to drink?
What were you thinking?
Did you even think?

"This is football, a tailgate!
Have you lost your mind?
I knew that I should have
Just left you behind."

I take a deep breath
And I say, "But my dear,
You gave me instructions;
You made them quite clear.

"I see that you're mad,
But I know you're no lush.
You said just one hue
So I brought Orange Crush."

***