A Dream

I had a dream a few years ago and in it I saw a very elegant restaurant filled with people. Each table was filled except one where a man was sitting alone. This table was in the center of the room and was very large with the man sitting at the head. This man paid for everyone’s meal and it was made known to all in the room.

There were loud exclamations and people turned to look at him. Many came over to thank him and humbly accepted his payment. I saw a man with his family ask this kind stranger, “Why did you pay for our meal when we don’t even know you?” “Because I love you,” he said. They were amazed but saw the love in his eyes and asked if they could sit at his table and talk with him. He nodded with a smile and soon his table was filled with people.

Others were insulted by this man. They felt interfered with and were very suspicious. Their pride would not let them accept this free gift. They did not want to feel obligated to anyone. Their indignation mounted to anger and hatred. They went to his table and yelled at him. Some spit on his face because they were so enraged. This man still desired them to accept his gift but they refused every entreaty. They seemed pleased in the fact that they could refuse him. This man kept following them with his compassionate eyes as these people retreated from his table to pay the cashier themselves. He kept calling them back to come to his table and they kept refusing to hear him.

When they came to pay the bill, they again refused to have the cashier accept the man’s generous offer. The cashier rang up each of their bills. It came up to tens of thousands of dollars each. Their faces paled because no one had enough to pay what they owed. The dream faded and in that dreaming, waking state, I asked the Lord what it meant.

He said, “I am the man who paid for everyone’s meal. The table I am sitting at is the kingdom of heaven. Those who are humble and grateful are able to let Me pay the tab for their sins. Each individual sits at the table of their life and eats of their own doing. You truly are what you eat. You can only change your diet when you eat from My table. I give the invitation and all hear and know it, but as you have seen there are still those who reject My free gift and choose to do it themselves. When they find out they do not have enough to pay their debt--it will be too late.”
I woke up with the picture still vivid in my mind and wrote it out as best as I could recall it.

Eternal Optimist

Man says, “Impossible.”
God says, “Wait and see.”

Man sees a monstrous trial.
God sees victory.

Man says, “Lord, I quit.”
God says, “Son, I can’t.”

Man sees barren hearts.
God says, “Love I’ll plant.”

God is the Eternal Optimist.
New hope shall He bring
Even through our muted tune
A new song shall we sing.

UNQUENCHABLE LOVE

“Many waters cannot quench love. Neither can the floods drown it.”

Song of Solomon 8:7

Your love is a fire of passion
that can never be extinguished.

Not all the cold hearts in the world
could freeze such a love!

Not all the deadness in mankind
could kill such a life!

Not all the darkness in the universe
could conquer such a light.

You warm cold hearts.
You raise the dead.
You pierce the darkness.

Nothing You are -
nothing You do
nothing You give

can be overcome.

Thirst Quencher

When He comes, He will open the eyes of the blind
and unplug the ears of the deaf.
The lame will leap like a deer,
and those who cannot speak will sing for joy!

The parched ground will become a pool,
and springs of water will satisfy the thirsty land. Isa. 35:6,7





When the poor and need search for water and there is none,
and their tongues are parched from thirst,
then I, the Lord, will answer them...I will open up
rivers for them on the high plateaus.
I will fill the desert with pools of water.
Rivers fed by springs will flow across the parched ground.

Isa. 41:17,18



The Lord will guide you continually,
giving you water when you are dry
and restoring your strength.

You will be like a well-watered garden,
like an ever-flowing spring.

Isa. 58:11



As the deer longs for streams of water,
so I long for you, O God.

I thirst for God, the living God.
When can I go and stand before Him?

Ps. 42:1,2

Another Fine Mess

I have never been guilty of impulse buying--my impulses lie in a different vein altogether. I love taking a road I have never traveled on before (when I have time to get lost a little, which doesn't happen often, alas!)

I'm impulsive when it comes to experiencing something new; like when a friend and I decided on a lark to go repelling and spelunking (no, these are not dirty words but you can get dirty doing them).

I bought the ticket, got into the gear and had the pleasure of dangling 200 feet suspended in air...wondering if the added weight of breakfast would affect the poor rope I was attached to. A sensible group of tourist were at the bottom of Moaning Caverns looking up at the idiots (me and my friend) wondering if we had lost our minds.

Just imagine...you are higher than the Statue of Liberty dangling on a rope...people looking like ants below you and on top of this...the lights go out and you are in complete darkness. I mean total, absolute, mind-boggling, Twilight Zone, black-hole darkness. The kind where you can put your hand in front of your face and still see nothing.

The lights were turned off by the sadistic guide below and I think he loved the power he had to freak people out. I want to reassure you that I did not let a bunch of expletives like !@#$%^&* pass my lips. I was just thankful that I had gone to the bathroom before I went repelling.

An eternity later I touch bottom; sweet terra firma with my unsteady feet. I couldn't blame my friend (I suggested repelling); I couldn't blame the management (they briefed me and with sound mind I signed on the dotted line); but I could blame God (He was the one who made me like this--taking
pure pleasure that I was wired so perversely).

Three weary hours later I changed out of my mud caked coveralls, ran my fingers through my mud encrusted hair and glanced at the wall of the main building on my way out. All of a sudden my heart swelled with pride and my exhaustion vanished like the morning mist. Why, you may ask? There on the wall was a picture of another person who had done what I had done. Whom, you may ask? The honorable Tom Hanks.

Call me crazy, but I was in good company now! Besides, impulsive people have to stick together.

Sea Fever

I'm coming down with a fever...sea fever. I wear a silver chain and on that chain is a silver ship--full sail. It's not a lucky charm; it symbolizes my life. I was made for something greater than the harbor of my comfort zones. I was made to launch out into deep waters and I feel the tug of the sea. My ropes are taunt with the strain of wanting to sail to unknown lands and settling for what's safe.

_____________

LAUNCH OUT!

A ship is built on land but is made for the sea.
The land is safe, solid - no fears of uncertainties.
The sea is not tamable - there's no guarantees.

All my life I have been built on stable ground
and now Your Spirit calls me into deep waters.
Part of me yearns for it and dreads it at the same time.

Is there anything so ridiculous as a ship that stays on land?
Lord, shame me until I launch out and face the sea I was created for!

______________

A better poet, John Masefield, put it this way...

SEA FEVER

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

In Remembrance

On this day of sorrow for our nation I would like to add some healing balm. Though I did not lose someone on 911 I understand the loss of a loved one.

My father died of a massive heart attack the day after Christmas 1969. I remember going to my room after we came back from the hospital--the lights had just gone out of my world. I was in shock and felt like the events were happening to someone else.

Mechanically, I pulled out my Bible (I received it as a gift but hardly ever read or understood it). I can't remember what I read but I began to cry and suddenly I felt a presence in my room: it wasn't creepy--I was not afraid.

How can I describe it? It was as if for a brief moment in time I was inside love...pure, joyous, liberating. I was completely known, loved and accepted for who I was. From my innermost being I felt wholeness and wellbeing radiating out. Honestly I don't think it lasted more than a minute--I know I couldn't take much more of that perfect love without bursting.

I was thirteen years old and an atheist: I did not acknowledge the presence as God...I thought it was my father who had only died a few short hours before. I thought his ghost was in the room with me. I even addressed the presence out loud because it was so real to me, "Daddy, you are here with me and you will never leave me!"

Sadly from this point, I became hard and bitter and I buried the experience as hatred and anger began to eat at me like a cancer. I spent my teen years as a loner, an outsider until at eighteen I found God or rather, He found me.

The same night I turned my life over to Him, He brought back the memory of being immersed in love. I knew then that He was the one with me the day my father died.

I was an atheist and He still showed up; I was lost in confusion and He still brought His peace; I felt completely abandoned and He surrounded me with acceptance; I was filled with rage and He still saturated me with His love.

If you are an atheist, or filled with hatred and anger, or simply hurting...know this: God doesn't ask your permission to enter your pain--He'll just do it.

"Father to the fatherless, defender of widows--this is God, whose dwelling is holy. God places the lonely in families; He sets the prisoners free and gives them joy." Ps. 67:5,6

Literary morphing

I got tagged for this meme and my additions are at the bottom in living color;) hrpeters

Story-time Meme

SF Girl over at The Alien Next Door sent me this story meme challenge. Writing is always fun! (unless it's a dissertation on the joys of mathematics).

Here are the rules:

• 1. Copy and paste the story below, and the rules, on your blog.
• 2. Find out who you're going to tag.
• 3. Write one or two sentences to continue the story, and use the titles of the blogs you're tagging or any word(s) associated with them as keywords in the links you include in your part of the story.
• 4. Remember to tell your taggees that you've tagged them!
• 5. Feel free to use this and start your own viral link story. I'd very much appreciate a link back to Mother's Home! if you do. (Or a tag, if you prefer!)

Here's we go:

Mother's Home! the cave troll yelled. I have been out all day strangling chickens like CRAZY! for the evil Empress. All i want now is a MOment to myself, but i keep getting Linda talking Drivel, but that is better than a certain someone Mooing. Then suddenly what should appear but the NOT evil Empress and all her strangled chickens and Mags cooked them all up and made us a lovely cake to eat. Gracie wanted all the cake for herself but the NOT evil Empress was able to hack off a good sized slab for herself!!! Ha ha ha, Gracie belched loudly after eating all the scrumptious cake that Mags had baked and watched Callie scrappin' with Sarge about who was gonna win Big Brother 8. Sarge started humming "Dixie," and almost choked on the bite of cake in his mouth! So he got some coffee to go to wash down the cake. The coffee helped a bit but he had to vocalize before he started singing again so he began, "Mi mi mi mi mi mi mi mi mi mi mi mi..."

...who heard him all the way from Bloggingham Palace and said, "Where is that awful noise coming from? Is there a sick wailing Wacky Mom loose in the woods?" She said, "I'll bet Songbird can teach him to sing!" but she was busy BONDing in the desert with Kathleen who sat writing heresy in her diary. She was absolutely no help. So Mi-Mi asked Kat to put him on the PP&P list to save his sorry soul. Alas, Ralph the Airhead made a new batch but the Patti-cakes fell in Polliwog's Pond and nobody got to eat cake after all! It was all Bee's fault (somehow). Feeling sorry for herself, she pranced over to Odat's for a dance but she only heard strange mumbling...

That mumbling, however, resulted from The Alien Next Door trying to clone Justin Stanely’s Weblog. The meticulous and risky cloning occurred throughout several millennia, past, present, and future. Or so it seemed; no one could keep count. It was just too much. The mind-numbing years had finally sublimed the earth into a pristine Bobbarama. All well and good, said Bob, but whatever happened to the rules? Before anyone got hurt, however, enough stars fell and crashed to alert Sci-Fi Girl, who grabbed her laptop and returned to the woods, where Mimi's Dating Profile popped up, allowing a lion to lie happily next to a lamb…

Now, the insane writer burst into the forest, kissing the dogwood and sat on the lion, spinning tales about sci-fi girl's boyfriend, sci-fi guy, who had his eye on [her] DNA, which he was hoping to sell for anything goes. But just then the mad goat lady and the drowsey monkey pranced into the forest and sang a truly quiet symphony, which annoyed the insane writer.

"What's that funky sound?" screamed sci-fi guy.

"Well, it sure isn't a raspberry-latte!" grumbled the insane writer. "Get a grip, sci-fi guy! You're my main character! I expect you to know how to split an atom! Ignore that woman and her indolent pet! Now, go and do your dastardly thing!" But the insane writer became further entranced by the absence of symphonic sound coming from their mouths that it compounded her fraught; so Marjienalized was she, delirious from dementia like a beheaded chicken.

"Hikari, hikari!" she yelled in her best Japanese accent as the sunlight broke through the dogwood trees. She believed it to be the light of heaven, discordant from the sky. She promptly withdrew her Skywater Journal to record the unusual events...

Was she in a trance or was it only bad pizza? A light was shining but it didn't come from heaven...she was caught in a tractor beam from an alien spacecraft. Up she floated light as a feather regardless of the pizza: down came her journal crashing to the earth. A zephyr breeze gently turned the pages until an entry stood out--To Not A Desperate Housewife--it trailed off and was left tantalizingly unfinished...

Encouragement to first time authors

I found this on a friend's blog and wanted to pass it along to you. May this encourage any struggling author out there...you are in good company. I wonder if other famous authors would have made the grade in todays competitive market?

Austen scam exposes publishers' pride and prejudice

Thu Jul 19, 7:59 AM ET

LONDON (AFP) - A string of publishers failed to spot blatant plagiarism of one of English literature's most famous authors, in a cheeky test to see if she would have secured a book deal today, a report said Thursday.

David Lassman, head of the Jane Austen Festival in Bath, sent manuscripts to 18 editors seeking a publishing contract, using only slightly disguised versions of chapters from the iconic novelist's most famous works.

But only one publisher spotted the fakes, which included perhaps the most famous line in all English literature, the opening sentence of her 1813 work "Pride and Prejudice".

"I was staggered. Here is one of the greatest writers that has lived, with her oeuvre securely fixed in the canon and yet only one recipient recognised them as Austen's work," Lassman told The Guardian newspaper.

Making only minor changes, he sent off sample chapters from three of her best known books: "Northanger Abbey"; "Persuasion", and finally "Pride and Prejudice" which he renamed "First Impressions".

For the latter, he made no changes to the opening line: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."

But all he got was a series of rejection slips, including from major publishing houses.

"Thank you for your recent letter and chapters from your book 'First Impressions'. It seems like a really original and interesting read," wrote Penguin. Harry Potter author J. K. Rowling's agents Christopher Little said they were "not confident" of being able to place the work.

The only editor to spot the ruse was apparently Alex Bowler of Jonathan Cape.

"Thank-you for sending us the first two chapters of 'First Impressions'; my first impression on reading these were ones of disbelief and mild annoyance, along, of course, with a moment's laughter," he wrote back.

"I suggest you reach for your copy of 'Pride and Prejudice', which I'd guess lives in close proximity to your typewriter, and make sure that your opening pages don't too closely mimic that book's opening."

The publishing houses scrambled to explain their failure to spot what are some of the well-known passages in the English literary canon.

"Our letter was a polite note declining representation and provided a standard response," said a spokesman for Christopher Little cited by The Guardian.

"Our internal notes did recognise similarities with existing published works and indeed there were even discussions about possible plagiarism."

A spokeswoman for Penguin noted that its rejection letter had said only that it "seemed" original and interesting. "It would not have been read," she insisted.