Stormy Sunday

Usually, on Sunday morning, I'm entering my church about now. Ready to see good friends, share smiles and hugs, sing praises and listen to a message that I need to hear. Sundays are good medicine for me.

This morning, I'm sitting at the kitchen table in dim light watching the stormy clouds hang and drift. Nothing alarming - just a little thunder here and there. The dishes are done, the washer and dryer are doing their rhythmic thing behind me and the dog is snoozing on the sofa. I didn't stay home because I'm sick or busy. I just felt the need to be here.

I'm alone. But, not really.

I'm never alone. I know so many women with small kids and busy lives feel that way. I can remember when I was in that arena and thought I'd never be in a bathroom alone. Privacy was a long lost friend. We women are born nurturers and spend most of our waking hours hoping to attend to other's needs. We feel good when we can see smiles and hear sighs of contentment. It's good. Yet, even then, we sometimes crave that time when no one needs us right this second. When we can turn all the noise makers off and hear...quiet.

So, today,with the exception of my canine companion who needs nothing right now, I'm alone. But, as I said, I'm never alone. I have a gentle companion who is always with me. He seldom raises his voice. He usually whispers quiet encouragement to my soul. He isn't a show-off. But, he's always there. If I'm not listening or looking for him, I often miss him. I can forget he's even around. To be honest, I even ignore him sometimes. It's amazing he's still with me.

But he never, ever, ever forgets me. He made me a promise to stick around forever. Even when I'm ignoring him. And I know I can count on his promises. He's not one who says one thing and does another. He's passed the test. Proven himself over and over again. When even my dearest people let me down, I know there is one I can count on. And I run to him. Often, running with tears.

He's closer than a brother, a constant companion, a teacher, encourager, and guide.

He knows my thoughts.
He sees my heart.
And he loves me completely.

I'm spending this stormy Sunday morning with Him.

(John 14:15-27)

Here Comes the Sun

I'm amazed that with all the available television channels, I find so little worth watching.  We've even followed ridiculous programs that show cooking competitions, truckers on perilous ice roads, dog trainers, junk collectors and wedding dress selections.  I won't even try to watch the little girls who compete in beauty contests.  Their mothers spray tanning tiny four-year-old bodies, applying false eyelashes and veneers over tiny teeth. Seriously.

All this supports my love of our DVR.  It has revolutionized television. I even use it as a verb now. "Did we DVR that?" We tape the shows we enjoy - including the stupid ones- and then watch whenever we want to be entertained or zoned out.  Wouldn't it be great if they could translate that to your glasses so that whenever you're in a boring meeting, you could watch a show without anyone knowing??  Hmm... I may be having a millionaire moment here.

One of the shows I enjoy DVRing is Sunday Morning on CBS.  Only have a few minutes to watch something worthwhile?  This show has it.  The program is 90 minutes long, but filled with several segments. Some are political, some amusing and most of them are on people, places, or objects I would never learn about otherwise. Most are followed by the signature "sun" done in various artistic ways using all kinds of mediums.  I look forward to these each week.

A few months ago, we watched a segment on Kodak Kodachrome film and it's demise. There was only one small business that developed it anymore and it was shutting down. Digital imaging has put it to rest. I remember loading film into various cameras including a Brownie, Instamatic, and later 35mm dinasaurs like my father's Lycra which needed a separate light meter. That film in the hands of talented photographers captured many images we hold dear.  Remember the haunting eyes of the girl in Afghanistan on National Geographic? 

As I type, I'm learning about Gypsy Rose Lee.  Now, that isn't a topic my coffee chicks would bring up but I'll be ready for the Jeopardy category when it surfaces.  She was born in 1911 and became the first famous stripper. Lady Gaga has nothing on her.  Not what I'd call a role model, but interesting none the less.  Up next is a story entitled "The Real Lois Lane".  From racy to reporter, this show covers it all! So, as I dress for church, I'm assured that when I have a minute to sit, I'll be entertained and educated by Sunday Morning.