A Time to Wait on God

Hello friends,

Waiting on God. It's the hardest thing for me to do, in my spiritual walk with Him. Of course I would like my request to be answered in the way that I want, preferably immediately. And waiting can make me absolutely crazy! Understanding why the wait is necessary is the second thing that I struggle with. I have a wonderful friend, whose walk with the Lord is similar to mine. She used to say, "I thought I was an only child." Then I would say, "well, I thought I was God's favorite child." Then we'd both laugh.

So, here I am, waiting, and I don't understand why. The ironic side of this, is when the Lord moves in my favor, He is always right on time. THEN I understand why He said 'No.' THEN I understand His wisdom, and I am so glad that He didn't give me what I asked for, right away. Then, I am so thankful that He said, 'No," or "Not Yet."

You see, I rely on God. Oh, I know that the wisdom of our day says, "Make Yourself Rich. Just send me this amount, and you'll be rich like me!" It doesn't matter who says these things, whether they be Christians or Secular; I simply don't believe it. I know it's not true. I need God, and though I am human, with lots of wants, I'd rather God say 'No,' then to have the riches of this world, without Him.

I find the wisdom of the world very depressing. My father's God was money. He didn't have any, so he spent his life looking for it, believing that his "windfall" was just around the corner, and one day his "ship would come in." Well, I can tell you honestly, the windfall never came, and 'til the day he died, his "ship" was still out to sea.

I taught my children that the best things in life were, first God, then family, and country. I also taught them that there is no windfall; there is no ship. There is only this: love, faith, and hard work. There will be tribulations. Life can be scary. We must be vigilant that we are not setting ourselves up to be victims. Conduct yourself wisely. Remove the sign from your forehead that says, "Victim here!" And always beware of the person who has easy answers. Because most answers only come through prayer, blood, sweat, and tears...and waiting on God.

I believe that it is time to smell the roses, if you haven't lost your sense of smell. Hug those you love, and tell them that you love them. Take a step back from the world. Slow down, and look at the beauty around you. Take a deep breath, and pray. Then wait on God. I'm still learning how to do that.

With love,
Jaye

A Time to Be Thankful for the Manna

Hello friends,

Probably the most difficult problem that I have spiritually is to surrender my will to God's. With financial and medical needs, and the price of gasoline in the U.S., I have my list of needs, along with my list of wants:

"I'd really like to have this today, Lord."

"Could you please hold back the flood, just this once, and I'll surrender tomorrow?"

I am signed up for every online catalogue that holds my every desire: gardening, clothing, furniture, and things to buy to spoil my dog. If it is for someone else, I'll spend every penny I have. When it comes to myself, I'm cheap. My family keeps careful watch, so that I don't buy the dress for $9.99 that looks like a Halloween costume. Somehow, I find it within myself to declare, "but I really DO love orange, purple and black polka-dots!"

"No you don't, Mom."

"No. I really do love it."

"No you don't, Dear."

"But it's only $9.99!"

Then pandemonium sets in.

"Quick, hide the check book!"

"Cancel the credit cards!"

"Don't let her near the phone!"

This is a closer truth than you could possibly imagine. I'm beyond thrifty. Way past frugal. If it's for me, and it's mismatched, purple and green, and ONLY $9.99, I'm standing in line. "It looks warm." So are Army fatigues. "It's colorful." So are lollipops. But you wouldn't lick them and stick them all over your body and call it a dress! But it's so CHEAP! Uh-huh.

Then, there are my larger dreams: the cyclone fencing for my acre and a half yard; hardwood floors; a four season sun room; Anderson windows; sky-lights; and someone to clean my bathrooms and those nifty hardwood floors. Like everyone else, I have wants that I keep translating into "gotta have" needs. Please, God, give me the surplus, and I'll never ask for another thing. Until next time. Often I see that in myself, and I don't like it.

You see, I do know that there are other real needs to pray for. Please, Lord, heal my friend's cancer. Watch over my children and husband. Lord, make me more like You. And then there is the "thank You, Lord." For Your hand of protection, for Your hand of favor; no matter the tribulation, thank You for carrying me through. And so much more.

Thank You. For the birds that come to my feeders, depending on me to give them food and drink. For the elegantly lovely sunrise, and the beauty of the mountains. For the love that I see in my husband's eyes. For the beauty and devotion of my children. For my darling, dapper dachshund. For the adorable creatures You have put in my care, who give me so much joy. For laughter that makes my sides ache. For peace in my home. Protection from storms. Surprise snow showers. And let me not forget, thank You, Lord, for Your provision every day. THANK YOU, GOD, FOR YOUR MANNA!

Manna. That bread from heaven; for food and drink; for each day's gift. Thank You for each day's needs. Thank You, Lord, for MANNA.

With love,

Jaye

A Time for Trust

Hello friends,

I wanted to share, with you, a window into my prayer life:

Do I love You, Lord? Do I? Does my heart beat first for You?
You are worthy, Lord, and I know it. Have I truly surrendered to You?
I try. Oh yes, I try. To listen to Your Will.
Am I obedient in all things? Okay. Most things? Ah yes, some things.
Am I patiently awaiting, trusting in Your love?

Is my anger under Your control? Or is it an explosion waiting to happen?
Am I still one of Your favorites? Have I tried you way too long?
Can I feel Your Holy Presence? When the night seems filled with fear?
I am talking, Lord; but am I listening? Will You still my trembling heart.

Will you guard the little creatures that fill my yard with joy?
And what about my pets, Lord? Are they also in Your Care?
And my children, Lord, are You watching? Keep them safe within Your arms.
And my strong and faithful husband. Please, Lord, keep him in your care.
I can't live without him, Father, his safe and gentle arms.
Always waiting just to comfort, he's an angel in disguise.
Keep him by my side forever. Here on earth and way beyond.
Just the thought of life without him, fills my heart with fear and dread.

And my dreams and aspirations; Lord please keep them on Your heart.
Thank you, Lord, for every blessing; for Your comfort and Your peace.
I will trust You with each sorrow, knowing I am in Your care.
My decision is to trust You, even when the road seems dark.
I will look ahead in wonder as You light my every step.

Trusting You is joy and sorrow, as I try to see ahead;
As my plans are dashed and broken, and I must begin again.
Yes, my God, I trust You, knowing with my every breath,
You are holding me above the tempest, in the shadow of Your wings. Jaye Lewis

My friends, I wanted to share with you, the journey that I am taking. I wanted you to know that for each of us, as we seek answers, the journey involves much struggle and much joy.

I've been asked again and again, how to have a relationship with God; and my answer is this: Start. Begin where you are. Talk to Him, even when your strength and dreams turn to ashes. He will carry you the rest of the way. This is what I do every day. It's hard, joyful, and often filled with questions without answers, at least not the answers that I wish. I had a very wise pastor who once said, "if you're not struggling, you're not doing it right." I laughed at the time, but I have found it to be true.

So, now, I wish you a weekend filled with family, friends, and joy. I wish you peace and happiness. God be with you, and may He guide You on the roadway of your life. I once told my daughters, "look towards His light. When the light moves, you know that you are standing in the wrong line."

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org

A Time for Reason

Hello friends,

Probably the hardest thing I do in life is to keep silent. When I brandish my opinion, especially when I believe that I am right, I always get sick. My body and my emotion are entwined much like two wire fences. In a short amount of time it is impossible to distinguish the two. I seldom get angry. No. Really. Except when I see something as unfair, selfish, or cruel. It doesn't matter if someone is manipulating people for "the sake of the state" or "for the sake of religion," (their words, not mine), when I see that, I get beside myself with anger and outrage.

I will often complain to God, sometimes at the top of my lungs, as though I have the answer to life's complexities. I'm simply stunned at political leaders who fail to look at the lessons of history; and religious leaders who pervert the Word of God, for money, gain, or power.

Have you ever felt like a stranger in a strange land? King David often felt like a stranger. In Psalm 39:12, he says to God, "for I am a stranger with You," as he entreated God to answer his prayer. In Psalm 69:8 he tells God, "I have become a stranger to my brothers," for the Lord's sake. David is not afraid to approach God with a reasoning argument. And then in Psalm 119, in the first verse, "I am a stranger in the earth." Wow! How often I have felt this way.

David says, in effect, "Look, God, this is what I have done, only for You. And look what is happening to me. Friends, family, and even the world itself treats me like a stranger. Aren't they supposed to want me? Aren't they supposed to love me? Aren't I supposed to feel like family? So, why do I feel so different; so alien; so like a stranger? As though I don't even belong on this earth."

All through the Bible we run into people who cried out to God, "I feel so alone! Help me!" That's often the way I feel. So then, I look to the Words of God, to tell me what He said about this very issue. In the first Chapter of Isaiah, verse 18, God says to His people:

"Come now, and let us reason together,'' says the Lord, "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be as wool."

I will often read it like this: Come, Jaye, let Me reason with you. You be reasonable, says God. For I am filled with reason. I receive so much comfort in God's passionate pleadings with His people. Continuously He pleads for His people (me) to understand Him. Love me, He begs; for I will not force you to love Me, at the point of a sword.

Man forces. God pleads. God's passionate love fills me with joy, peace, and love for Him. There is no soul beyond His reach. There is no peace He cannot give. And the peace I seek can only come from Him. It's the only way that I can face the next five minutes on this strange and often awful world in which we live.

Blessedly, I have a loving husband and two beautiful daughters to share my journey. I also have four dogs, a cat, and an acre full of critters who make my heart beat warm, in the process.

So, now, in spite of me, I reason with God. Why have you given me this happiness? And the answer I receive is this: "Because I can."

With love,
Jaye Lewis
tekewitha@gmail.com
www.entertainingangels.org

A Time for His Arms to Hold Me

Hello friends,

Have you ever wondered what to do when calamity strikes? Your life goes along peaceably, and then you turn a corner and BOOM! Your life blows up. Someone you love gets terribly sick; divorce is suddenly thrust upon you; the child that you raised with love turns on you like a viper; your health gives out; you grow old and your body becomes weaker. I'm certain that each individual who reads this has experienced one or more of these blows to their life.

So how do we continue? Do we give up? Do we look for our answers in the bottom of a bottle? Do we seek oblivion in a bottle of pills. Or do we simply allow ourselves to be overcome and quietly go insane? What is our next step? Is there a next step? And who do we turn to?

I'm blessed with a wonderful husband and two loving daughters; however it was not always so. I remember the days of loneliness, without a loving voice or hand. And to tell the truth, I still have a day here and there, where I feel overcome by the world and the cares of life. My health becomes more complicated. My children go from one auto-immune disease to another. And I grow old. So where is that pitcher of lemonade, made from all those lemons? Where are all the platitudes that we love to cling to? Whose arms will catch me when the rug is snatched from beneath my feet? There is only One.

Years ago when abuse was heaped upon abuse; when hope was inconceivable; when no one wanted nor understood me; I found my answer. I run into God's arms. He enfolds me with His warmth; His protection; and His love. Are there times when I rail at Him and enumerate my complaints? Of course there are. Like a petulant child I cry "You don't love me! How could you let me suffer?! Why do you leave me alone?!"

That is often when His voice becomes more clear, as I remember the words of the Savior of the world crying from His Cross: "My God! My God! Why hast Thou forsaken me?!!" Then I am reminded that even Jesus had moments when He was so terribly alone, all He could do was cry, "Why." And that is when I feel my Father's breath upon my face. That is when I feel his hand upon my brow. That is when He gathers me into His arms, and He cradles me, with a love that is greater than all my problems, a protection that conquers all my fears.

So, now, as health and family sorrows try to become the focus of my life, I reach for His arms to hold me tight. I can feel Him swing me around, holding me close. I can see only Him.

With love,
Jaye Lewis
www.entertainingangels.org
tekewitha@gmail.com

A Time to Say Good-bye

Hello friends,

This week-end I did something spontaneous. I came across the email address of a distant cousin, who has been compiling our family genealogy. I wrote him and offered to help in the few areas that I could. Memories of my childhood and young adult years were complicated, to say the least, and tragic in the worst of times. I was irrelevant, you might say. My grandmother forgot me, and my mother often spoke about her three children. I was her fourth child, and I remember wondering what she was talking about, because there I was, standing next to her. So, who was I?

My cousin sent me a copy of the entire line of ancestors, something I have wanted my whole life. Who was married to whom? What was the real name of the woman that I heard only called "Muddah?" Within this genealogy I learned the new names of married girl cousins, and who they married. What I wasn't expecting was the deaths. Here I am 61 years old. I've been at death's door more than once, yet I am alive. There they were, favorite cousins that I so seldom saw, but who are brilliant memories, brief encounters of my childhood. Joey, the adorable two year old, fourteen years my junior, passed away. James, my hilarious twelve year old cousin, eight years my junior, gone. Ronnie, who died her hair red, so that we could be twins. Drew, who owned all the comic books in the world, gone. What did they die of? Did they suffer? Was I as alive in their memories, as they are to me? Probably not. But, then, maybe that is why I'm the writer, one who celebrates memories; someone who remembers in minute detail.

My heart broke over the shock of discovering that those who were so much alive in my heart, are now gone, and have been so for years. All the while I laughed till I cried, and repeated the events again and again, to my children, and to anyone who would stand still, they were no longer with us.

One advantage I have over those who have always belonged, who lost a spouse, a mother, a husband, a friend. To me, they will always be young and laughing. My uncle Andy will always be kind and crazy. All of you. You will remain alive and young forever in my heart.

With love,
Jaye Lewis

A Time for Wins and Losses

Hello friends,

I expected to write much earlier today, but, blessedly we are having rain in our very drought stricken part of the Appalachians. We are praying for more, and it looks like it is headed our way. Already our outside temperature has gone from 89 to 77 degrees. Yeah!

I'm writing you between storms, and I thought you'd like to know that I made it onto the treadmill yesterday, just knowing I would be able to go the entire mile. It was a struggle to go half that distance. I still have an injured knee from my swan dive in the tub, last July, but it will get stronger.

More good news. I got paid for some stories. I don't know about you, but I just love paydays. For a writer, paydays come and go. Infrequently there's a windfall, when someone just can't get enough of your stuff, and then there's the rest of the time, when you crawl along wondering if some editor knows you're still on the planet. I'm not especially aggressive, and I really try not to do this alone. Just about everything I do, I do with much prayer, along with occasional white knuckle begging.

Yesterday afternoon suddenly became very hard. It was like a desert outside, and my beloved dachshund has been crated for over a week. He injured his back, a frequent disability of dachshunds, and we have been carrying him outside to do his business in a cumbersome pink, carry-along, that looks every bit like a tiny circus wagon. If Happy Dog only knew that it is PINK, I doubt that he would forgive me. On my third trip down the stairs, with my precious cargo on board, I stepped into an oven. Happy Dog took forever to find the perfect spot, and I thought, if I die out here, everyone going by will assume I'm sun bathing. "Oh yes, there's Mrs. Lewis, sunbathing. Now, what would make her do that in this kind of weather? And what's her weenie dog doing out in the street?" Needless to say, by the time I dragged the pink, cabana back up the stairs and huffed and puffed my way over to the big crate, making sure, with my last breath, that my weenie dog was safe and sound, I died on the couch!

I still had to get on that blasted treadmill, and I wasn't happy about it. Drinking about a gallon of water, I checked my blood pressure, discovering that I was not only alive, but my blood pressure was down, and my pulse was steady. No heart palpitations, but in a gloomy mood, I turned my worship cd on loud-enough-to-wake-the dead, and I started trekking. "This is for You, God, not for me." By the time I got to the third song, something happened. The words hit me, and I began to experience the worship I'd promised over morning coffee. I struggled with the rest of the afternoon, but I knew through each stumble, that I'd connected with Someone greater than myself.

Yesterday wasn't the best day, all day, but then, if every day were my best day, how would I understand that my prayer, as W.S. Bowden says, "is weakness leaning on Omnipotence."

"By Your strength, I walk.

By Your grace, I keep going.

When I stumble, You catch me in Your arms,

And when I fall, You carry me." From "Because of You," by Jaye Lewis, 2002

So, winning and losing, yesterday was a good day. I learned that God can touch my heart, even when I feel reluctant, and faithfulness is more than solemn promises. Sometimes it's merely showing up.

With love,

Jaye Lewis

A Time for Second Chances

Hello friends,

I've been so remiss in writing in my blog, and I apologize. A new internet friend contacted me yesterday, and I found myself so encouraged. As I told her, writing is a very lonely art, and sometimes it feels as though the heavens are silent. That is usually when I'm doing all the talking.

Isn't it strange how we think time is forever? Especially when we want something -- that new raise that we deserve; that pat on the back from a supervisor; or words of love from our loved one? So many things we wait for, and we sometimes think that we can do everything ourselves. Just push along; just keep our heads down and shove. We'll start our diet tomorrow. We'll get back on the wagon, after just this one -- whatever it is that is our great temptation. And times in between, when we feel bad about ourselves, simply go on forever. I've had a few months of that, and I'd like to share it with you, now.

My mother died at 64. She was having a typical argument with my father. She was loud. He was cruel. At the point that she grabbed her stomach and chest, and screamed, "I'm going to die," my father snarled back, "oh no, you're not!" And she did. She died.

I just turned 61, and I have had the specter of my mother's early death hanging over me. My life is different than hers. My husband is thoughtful and loving, and he still sees a young, beautiful woman in me. Of course, my look in the mirror shows something else. How like my mother I look, except for the smile and the happiness in my eyes. I neither drink nor smoke, and up until a few months ago (when sudden illness struck) I have been diligently walking a mile a day on my treadmill. That was the ticket for me. That time in the sick-bed has given me back over 20 pounds. My blood pressure has never been fully under control. I was retaining water, and I was so depressed.

On our anniversary, my husband and I went away for a couple of days. Oh how I love that, but there I was afraid to be seen by the man who still sees a girl in me. Luckily, the next day I slipped and fell in the tub with a mighty crash. Stark naked and afraid I would drown from the fast beating shower, my husband saved me, as he always does. Once I could stand, nothing could dissuade me from continuing our vacation. Days later, when I realized something was terribly wrong, I called my doctor, and she sent me to a neurologist. A great one.

What did I find out? Well, my blood pressure was too high, so my medication is being increased. I am on a new medicine for my trimengial neuralgia. Unbelievably, the unrelenting fire that has been my pain, has ceased, almost immediately. My blood pressure is down, and I'm beginning my treadmill worship walk again. Yes, I do have mild neuropathy (painful deterioration of the nerves in my feet and legs), but my diabetes is under control, simply from exercise and diet, and I feel hope in my heart.

I will be getting an MRI. No tube. THANK GOD! The hospital has an open MRI, made for people like me, who are dragged kicking and screaming to any enclosed space. I told my neurologist, if it wasn't an open MRI, I would drag everyone within reach and pull them into the tube with me! He laughed.

As I increase my dosage of my new medication, I feel better each day. I feel hopeful that I can begin anew. I feel as though I have been given one more second chance from God. As I record my journey of diet, exercise, and a closer walk with the Lord, I want you to walk with me. Each day, I will record in my binary log whether I'm successful or not; how I feel, whether joyful or not. Every new insight that God gives me, I will share with you. I will share recipes and diet tips. It's not like I don't know the stuff.

Please, if you know someone who is struggling with weight loss and diet. If you know someone with diabetes, who believes that they have been given a death sentence, please pass my blog-link to them. It could mean a life. With proper diet and care, and someone to walk with, each of us can live a long life. And if God should decide to bring us home, why then we can die happy.

I am a happy woman today. I realize my blessings. My husband asked me, in one of my lowest hours, recently, "have you thought about counting your blessings?" I was annoyed, because I wanted to feel bad that day. But I heard you, Honey! And I'm counting now! Today, I thank God for life, breath, joy, and sorrows, for it's in there that I grow. Today, Louie, I'm thanking God for you! And, my friends, I thank God for you, too!

With love,
Jaye Lewis
tekewitha@gmail.com

A Time to Heal

Hello friends,

The time between my last post and today's has been a long time, considering how much writing that I do; and it has been a difficult time. I've been thinking about my family medical history, my medical history, and why it seems that in this world of "health masters," people seem to get sick more and die more. It seems as though there is an open season of evil. Perhaps the things that are in our faces today always happened; we just didn't know. Or evil is running rampant, and we are only safe in the hands of the Lord. I believe that the latter is the case.

Depression runs in my family, possibly manic-depression. No one ever sought help. It just wasn't done. My mother said that women in our family were "high-strung." Really, Mom! If you ever saw my mother in a rage, or my aunt, her sister, turn from a peaceful valley into a raging volcano, in a split second, you would believe her observation. According to my mother we were artistic souls. Yeah! Like Van Gogh cutting off his ear! My childhood was very confusing growing up, to say the least, and I couldn't wait for it to pass.

So, where is my healing? Well, there is only one place that I can truly run to, when life becomes so heavy that I have to climb five flights of stairs, just to reach bottom. Jesus. I run, just as fast as I can, and I throw myself into His arms. In His arms I am neither old nor weak. In His arms I am young and strong.

There are those who would laugh at my faith. In fact, right now, there is a movement to prove that Jesus was merely a man, who had all the foibles that we all have. It is like a crusade to prove that we have no Savior. I have to ask why? Go live your own life. Believe your own imaginings. Dream your own dreams. Cling tightly to those dreams as you take your final breath. And then what? That is the question they never answer. And then what? And that is the question that Jesus answers. And then what?

Do you know how Jesus answered that question? He said:

"Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also." John 14:1-3

Believe it or not, when I read those words, I can feel the power of His presence. I can feel the peace that He sends: "Let not your heart be troubled...." Don't worry, He says. Don't be troubled. One day, after the world has taken everything out of me, except my faith. He will come for me. He will hold out His arms, and I will run into them for the last time. I have a home. I have a mansion, which is built not of stone or wood or brick. It is built of His love and sacrifice.

The love of Jesus Christ transcends every awful experience of my childhood. It transcends every happiness of my present life. Jesus loves me. He truly does. And with all the temptations of this modern world; with all the false gods of prosperity and possessions, this fact remains true. I will go to the mansion that He has prepared, and I will spend an eternity with Him.

This morning I dreamed that I was in heaven. I dreamed that I was put in charge of the animals on some distant world. Can you imagine? What a beautiful Eden this earth must have been before we messed it all up. Every time I look out my door at the mountains that surround our home, I think about how beautiful it would be, to actually have a clear day and see forever.

With love,
Jaye Lewis

A Time to Let Go

Hello friends,

It has been more than a month since I last wrote, and I apologize for that. It's been a hard time for me. I am gaining weight again, and there is not a lot I can do about it, except fight it every step of the way.

Many of your loved ones are having the same problem. Most medications that save our lives -- diabetes medication, heart medication, central nervous system meds and many others bring our metabolisms to a halt. It's a never ending battle that must be fought, and it also must be understood. If our doctor does not understand the effects of medication upon metabolism, then we must look for another doctor - one who does understand.

I remember when I first found myself on heart medication. I was 30 years old; I had gained 25 pounds, and my doctor referred to me in his report as "obese." I weighed 134 pounds. He insisted that I hid chocolate cake under the bed and more than a few other insulting remarks. You may have also experienced this. Today I have a woman doctor who is very supportive. I'm on a medication that is interfering with some of my activities, and I am 61 years old. Believe it or not 61 is just a number. I'm over sixty, not dead. And to think that I once thought my life was over on my 30th birthday.

Let me tell you something about medication. New ones are approved all the time. Don't give up on your weight, particularly if you have diabetes. Diabetes is not a death sentence. I'm still controlling mine with diet and exercise. I'm not going to win a beauty contest, but I am blessed with a husband who still sees a young girl when he looks at me. I have got to stop looking at myself in a negative way. And maybe you do too.

Real love does not measure worth in inches. We all grow old. Maybe now it is time for us all to grow up. Maybe now is the time for us to let go of our insecurities and embrace the lives that we have. We have family, friends, and our relationship with God. If we are alone, that relationship with God can carry us through. I can promise that the loneliest times of my life have been filled with a good heart to heart talk with God. He loves that, and I think that we all need it, just as we need Him.

With love,
Jaye Lewis

A Time to Lose

One-hundred and eighty-three pounds. That's what I weigh. As a sixty-two year old woman, who has dedicated three and a half years of my life to diet and exercise, this must be the end of the world. I have gained twenty-three pounds. And I must admit that it did get me down for awhile. However, I have brought my diabetes under control. I am gardening, and I am back on the treadmill stronger than ever.

You see, along with my other medical problems, I suffer from cluster headaches. Often considered a man's disease, cluster headaches can bring a tough man to his knees. This tough woman was brought to near screams. Cluster headaches involve the main nerve in the face, called the trigeminial nerve (sometimes called the trigeminal migraine). From there liquid fire can travel to every nerve in the face, closing off the sinus on one side, and in my case included the head, the nose, the eye, and inner ear. The strangest thing about these migraines is the fact that they come on time, every day. You can set your watch. So, no matter how good you feel, when 8:40 p.m. comes around, watch out. It's like a little dirty trick. It is no mystery to me why this headache is often called the suicide headache. Sadly, there are those who have committed suicide. Not me. I got help.

Anything can trigger these headaches: smells, brushing your teeth, mouthwash, dust, and the list goes on. In my case, exercise also brought them on. I could not use my treadmill for six months. I had reached the point, where I could not wash a glass, wipe a counter, or wash my hair or face, without triggering pain so horrendous, it made me scream. It took about six months of medication, slowly increasing, for my headaches to come under control. I am now pain free.

My medicine has one unpleasant side effect, however. It has nearly shut down my metabolism. Hence the twenty-three pounds. However, stepping out of the pain corridor and into a normal life is a blessing, beyond compare. So, here I am in the middle of a conundrum - dreaded weight gain versus dreaded pain. I hate both. So, here is my strategy. No big deal. Exercise. Back onto the treadmill. One mile a day, at the very least. Every day, all over again.

Beginning again. It's not what I expected to have to do. Starting over. Back to the starting gate. Why me, Lord? The answer He gave me? Well, Jaye, you're so good at it. Who says the Lord doesn't have a sense of humor? So, I'm starting over. That's what God expects me to do. That's His plan, because I'm good at it And maybe there's someone out there who needs to know that starting over is a good thing.

Yesterday was a good day. In fact, it was a great day! Doing the gardening I love: hauling hoses, soaking trees, planting plants, a little nap in the afternoon, then back to the yard. Just plain getting dirty. That's my favorite thing in the whole world. I haven't been able to do this in over five years. Now I can. Thank you, God! You see, I'm starting over there, too.

So, here I go, doing what God says I do best. Rethinking my diet. Sticking to the treadmill. And praising the God who holds each breath in His hand for just one more day outdoors. You see, I realize now, that we can't often make the life that we planned; but we can, joyfully, love the life He has given us. And that's the best day anyone can have.

With love,

Jaye

A Time for Self-Reflection

Hello friends,

I have a friend in India, who writes me from time to time. She is bright, self-disclosing, and very kind. She, like I am, is a Christian, but oh the difference I find in my Indian brothers and sisters, than in my American brothers and sisters. When India has a call to prayer it is a powerful thing. They call for a transformation of the human spirit, while my American brothers and sisters often have a call for a larger gymnasium or a new wing to the Church. In fact, lets forget the wing. Why not simply build a bigger building, or raise a larger Cross? I do see an immersion in my country in material things, and, sadly, the American Church does not see how much they worship prosperity and pleasure.

Jesus said, "a time is coming when the true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and in Truth." I wonder what He thinks about America when He looks upon us? I doubt that He is amused or impressed.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day in America. My family will be spoiling me much more than I deserve. It is a very joyous time. How wonderful to be appreciated and celebrated. May I remember, as I accept the beautiful love of my family, that God gave me their love. May I remember the Mothers who will suffer, without celebration. Those who weep, undeserved, and those who are truly alone, may I celebrate them in my heart.

Come, Lord Jesus! While I am unworthy, I am believing, and I am surely ready.

With love,
Jaye

A Time for Feasting

Hello friends,

After an early spring, and then a return to harsh winter, then back to almost summer, we still have devastated trees in our yard. Perhaps the most painful sight for me is my tall flowering pear, which I planted as a twig eight years ago. The white blossoms were breathtaking this year, then a sudden drop into winter blasted the little pears just as they began to appear. It looks dead, much like the fig tree that Jesus cursed, because it didn't bear fruit. (I've always felt sorry for that fig tree.) This was different, however, the trees bore too soon, and now they look like death.

Soon we will have rain, and the rain will replenish the earth. Renewal will come, as will new healthy leaves. There will be no fruit this year, making it harder on the birds of the air that visit my yard. All are welcome to my feeders and bird bath -- the beautiful as well as the unlovely. All are invited to the feast -- the starlings, the grackles, the cowbirds, and the crows, as well as the robins, the cardinals, the sparrows, the blue jays, the hummers, the blue birds, and the rose breasted grosbeaks. My yard does not discriminate, for each is precious to me.

Because of that sharp return to winter, natural foods in the wild are scarce, so we have been blessed with the loveliest of visitors. Yesterday, I had a close encounter with a pink-breasted house finch. No fear was in this little bird's heart. He saw that I hurried to fill the empty feeder, and he awaited me. Then he popped into the feeder, not three feet from me. I spoke to him, and he was not startled. Busy at his meal, he allowed me to clamor around in my effort to fill the next feeder, spilling seed, and dropping covers. It warmed my soul. He didn't stir, as I moved on to the bird bath, in fact he met me there. Even as I struggled with the water hose, he stayed and cocked his head at me.

"Would you like a cold shower?" I asked. He seemed to nod yes; so ever so lightly I turned on the spray, sprinkling the water. He dipped down to drink, so I moved the nozzle and gently sprayed over him. His wings flapped with pure joy, as he washed his feathers, then he flew to a nearby limb, so that I could empty and refill the humble bird bath.

That encounter was unasked for, yet freely given, and even now, it brings tears to my eyes. So, little birds, the unlovely with the lovely; come to my yard, one and all, and feast. Perhaps it is I who need you, more than you need me.

With love,
Jaye Lewis

A Time For Understanding

Hello friends,

Soon my girls will be finished with their semester at their university. We will have the entire summer together. It's our favorite thing - just being together. My husband will be able to take a day off here and there, and we have many plans. We will garden, write, and read, just for the love of reading. Who does not love the reading of real books - feeling the pages slip between our fingers; hearing them as they turn; and getting sleepy as dandelion puffs brush across our faces? And what about fireflies as the sun goes down and the moon comes up; the sounds of peepers on the wind; and most of all, just being?

This will be a different season for me. I will be able to breathe outside. You see I'm an asthmatic, and finally, at 62 there is enough medication for me to be able to breath. I also suffer from a type of headache, which makes the sinuses burn up into one's brain, like liquid fire. The tears and nose stream, and outside is an impossible place to be, because anything can set it off. It's called Cluster Headache. None of us knew. But not this year. This year there's a new medicine, and even today, a very hot and dry day, I was able to go outside and breathe.

Most people want to get rid of the dandelions. Seeds beget more dandelions and soon the yard is filled with nothing but dandelions, but, you see, I have been waiting for this day for more than ten years, just to feel the blessed "wish-givers" brush across my face, as I blow them into the wind.

My wish? It has already been fulfilled, this day.

With love,
Jaye

A Time to Dance

Hello friends,

When tragedy strikes, all seems lost. Immersed in the grief, terrified to allow my children out of my sight, no matter their ages, I often forget to look about me and see the real joys in my life. So here, I'd like to celebrate a few with you.

Early each day my husband awakens me with a tender touch. I have early medications to take, but his smile and his gentle ways make me feel young and full of life. While I am rubbing the sand out of my eyes and counting my pills, he brings me a mug of coffee. That first sip is the best of the day. It's just us. For a moment the world is full of joy, just to be awake and together.

In a few minutes, our daughters may be up, and they wish us a good-morning. They pile on the bed, with cups in hand, and it is then just the four of us. We lift our cups into the air, and we clink, "Tink! I love everyone in this room!" We say. And we mean it.

Everything that happens after that moment is blessed by that love. Joy. Sorrow. Triumph and tragedy. Nothing will have been wasted, because we took that moment to say, "This is our day. This is our time. This is our love. This is our time to dance.

What tomorrow will bring, I cannot know; and sometimes the not knowing is worst of all. But for today, at this moment, I cannot help but thank God for giving us our time to dance.

With love,
Jaye

A Time to Weep

Hello friends,

This has been a week like no other in Southwestern Virginia, the home of Virginia Tech. So many questions have filled my soul, and we have shed buckets of tears. Although my daughters go to a different school, in another state, no place seems safe anymore. For us, especially so, because we have a connection to Virginia Tech.

My daughter, Helen, spent 3 semesters at Virginia Tech, in Blacksburg Virginia. She was accepted into their Engineering Program with highest honors. She spent much of her days inside the building where the carnage took place. That's where all her professors' offices were. She looked forward to being a student of Professor Librescu, the holocaust survivor who laid down his life for his students, so that they could escape. There were other brilliant professors, as well, that she looked forward to working with. It is significant that Professor Librescu was killed on Holocaust Remembrance Day. It is a reminder, to me, that holocaust is not far from any of us, at any time.

By the time that Helen entered her third semester, it was obvious that she was unhappy. She was under terrible stress. She was making all A's, but very unhappily. And I believe that we should not only do what we love, but we should also love what we do. There seemed to be little connection, I will say, spiritually, between the students and the teachers at Virginia Tech. While a few of Helen's teachers were wonderful, in other areas many things were overlooked that made Helen feel very unsafe.

It would have been easy for us to say, "Stick it out. Go forward. Let nothing stop you. Stay at Virginia Tech, and conquer your fears." However, in my many visits with Helen, I began to feel an intense pressure of unease. I would wait for her classes to end, and I would wait for her to walk through the door.

What was wrong with me, that I could not quench a burning desire, to bring her home? At the same time our other daughter, Jenny, was attending another university, south of where we live. The teachers and the atmosphere were caring, and her classes were exciting. Very little pressure was put on the students, and there was an open feeling to the entire campus.

I began to ask Helen what she really wanted out of school and her life. I talked with my husband and her. I prayed. Over and over I felt as though God were saying, "Helen doesn't belong here. Bring her home."

Before the next semester Helen was able to transfer to Jenny's university, where her talents are celebrated, and encouragement and "hands on" teaching, are the order of the day. The change has been miraculous. Helen has been so happy, and still is, until the day of the carnage at Virginia Tech.

If Helen had stayed at Virginia Tech; if we had coerced her to stay in the big school with the big name; there is no doubt that Helen would have been in the Engineering Building, that moment, that day. At the time that I was praying and feeling the pressure of God on my heart, I would have moved Heaven and Earth to make her leave Virginia Tech. I was ready to lay down in the driveway, if necessary, to keep her from driving away. I cannot answer why, except that God would not let me leave her there.

I have wrestled with this for three days. Along with my grief at the horror that was perpetrated in twenty minutes in the halls of a building where my daughter would have been, I do know this: I thank God that He is so hard on me. When He puts Godly pressure on me, it is nearly impossible to ignore. I thank Him, because Helen was not there. There is a terrible guilt that comes with that gratitude; the gratitude that makes me say, "Thank you, Lord, that it was not my child."

I'm not sure I know what the message is, except this: when we say good-bye to those we love, when we hug them, we must make every second of that hug count. Hug, love, and pray, as though we have the lips of God pressed to our ear. There may come a time that we will be certain that we do.

With love,
Jaye

A Time to Gain

Hello friends,

There is a certain irony in focusing on the Book of Ecclesiastes in the Bible. With each measure of time there is an equal and opposite statement, as in "a time to gain, and a time to lose." I could not stop thinking about this, as I once again climbed upon my treadmill and slowly measured my steps, after my last fall. I also considered all the weight that I had lost, before I was put on my new medication. Then I thought about the weight I gained during the time that I could not use my treadmill.

I had walked my way up to 40 minutes of continued walking every day. I had lost 40+ pounds, and I felt like I was never going to see those 40 pounds ever again. Well, that was before the cluster headaches, and that was before this new medication. I gained back nearly 20 pounds. So, I guess you could call that my "time to gain."

Today, I did not run a marathon. I did not leap from a helicopter on my boogie-board, nor land like a gazelle on the frozen snow and ski my way down the side of a mountain. But I began a new journey. My latest fall made speed impossible, in fact, I was slower than I was before, and I had to stop at fifteen minutes, but I began. Now is my "time to lose" again.

I will not get hysterical about this. Other people have bigger problems, and fifteen minutes is still a half a mile more than doing nothing. I think that much of our lives are like this "losing" and "gaining." Wherever we are in this simple wisdom of the Bible, it is still our time. Perhaps it is our time, also, to thoughtfully consider what is worth losing; and in gaining, what are we willing to give up to get there.

Much is made, these days, about "winning." Gaining wealth. I am no expert on wealth, but I do believe I know what it means to be rich -- a hand to hold in the sunset of our lives, the love of our children, friends (if we are so blessed), our pets, and a relationship with God. Those are the things that make us truly rich. Everything else is just "stuff."

With love,
Jaye

A Time to Contemplate

Hello friends,

This morning I took a "walk-about," not as my Australian friends might, but around my acre parcel of land -- small as compared to the Outback, but large as compared to the suburbs. The last week we have had one killing frost after another. This is after our early spring-like weather in late February and March. Everything was in bloom, more than a month too early -- the daffodils, the tulips, the trees, and especially the Magnolias.

The beautiful Magnolias. I have loved them all my life, always being too poor to afford them or too far north to grow them. Last year we were able to buy two young trees, Magnolia 'Jane,' which were planted late, suffered severe drought and insect pests, and yet, this year they bloomed, in breathtaking velvet-pink shades and with a honey-like fragrance. My daughter Jenny took a hundred pictures, capturing every shade, every graceful curve, and almost capturing its fragrance. Then they were frozen. By the second day, the flowers hung there looking so much like wilted lettuce, brown and unappetizing.

Yesterday, on Easter Sunday, I just sobbed. My entire garden, flush with bloom way too soon, was nothing but a pile of old lettuce, just waiting for warmer weather, so that it could begin to stink. It was a truly "all-about me" moment; and some of it was "all-about-my-mother." The magnolias, especially, were like a tribute to her; loving them all her life, she never had them. My father never understood that she would rather have had plants than crystal; she would rather have planted trees than diamonds. My mother could make anything grow. Plants loved her. She would have loved my magnolias. She would have loved that my husband bought them for me, and she would have been so touched that my daughter, Helen and he picked them out together. To my mother, that is the evidence of a great love.

Later in the evening, we all took out our Bibles and did our Easter study. We read about a young man, Jesus, who died too soon. We read about a perfect God who willingly gave up his life, so that I might sob over my garden. We read about his trial in a garden; and most of all, we read about his resurrection, which guaranteed eternal life for me. We also read about his friends, who had betrayed him, and we read about his followers who still were wrapped in fear. Then we read about His resurrection and unconditional forgiveness, a promise for all humans that salvation is not only possible, but it is freely given to those who believe. Again I sobbed, but this time it was with shame, that I would forget that gardens, too, will resurrect and bloom again.

So, as I walked through my garden this morning, the frost still clinging to the trees, I felt a sense of wonder that a God so great and loving, would come after me and capture my heart. I felt understanding fill my soul, as I realized that I am still God's favored child, much like my precious daughters are to me. He still loves my laugh; and He still turns happily at the sound of my voice.

My garden will bloom again, as will the call of my Savior, once I get past myself and focus on Him.

With love,
Jaye

A Time to Rest

Hello friends,

Today my walk on my treadmill lasted a full minute and a half. You see, I fell yesterday, while racing behind my Happy Dog, who was hot on a trail. Yes, weenie dogs are trackers, and their noses always rule. I twisted my ankle and pulled muscles that I didn't know I had. Louie, my husband, said, "you'll be resting tomorrow." Like the stubborn nearly 61 year old that I am, I assured him, "oh, I think I'll be all right."

Well, the spasms in my foot, my hip, and my back, after a minute and a half on my treadmill, said, "oh no you're not!" So here I am, talking to you, and admitting to you, "oh no I'm not." I could swear that ten years ago, maybe fifteen, I could bounce back in a night, but no more. That extra eighteen pounds that I gained with my new medication will just have to wait, and I will rest.

It's occurred to me that God wants us to rest. To rest and to think. To realize what we have. In my case, my vanity is involved, and since I'm using the inspiration of Ecclesiastes to write my blog, let me not forget that the second line of Ecclesiastes tells me, "All is vanity." Okay, Lord, I'm listening. Help me to make it through the day. Help me to look into my mirror and see myself as my husband does, a fresh, pretty, lovely woman, inside and out. But most of all, let me see myself as you do, and may I ever see what I hope to see...You in me.

With love,
Jaye

A Time of Wonder

Hello friends,

Every once in a while in the Southern Appalachians, we have just enough winter to create the perfect spring. This year is the perfect spring. I went for a walk this morning and cherry trees were simply loaded with blossoms. My Bradford Flowering Pear, that I planted as a seedling eight years ago, is simply bursting with huge, white blooms. It towers nearly to the roof of our house, and we have two levels. It's BEAUTIFUL!

Last year we had drought, and it hurt to see our newly planted Magnolias choking and dying, but this morning, there they were: rejuvenated and bursting with the promise of purple pink blooms. My Redbud is towering, which is unusual for a Redbud, and it is loaded with tiny, pea-like buds that will soon flush with perfect pink blooms. Even some of my tiniest Redbuds have a bloom or two. But the biggest surprise lays at the back of our property. Planted as a seedling, also eight years ago, is the thorn tree. Supposed to be a Washington Hawthorn, it is not, and it is loaded with four-inch long thorns, that my husband says are a "b#tch" to mow around.

This thorny, unlovely tree has survived explosion after explosion from the installation of our sewer line. It has survived years of drought, and years of the worst insect inundations, that have had me running for my Bible just to figure out when the "chewing locusts" were going to arrive. But I have grown to love that tree, even when we discovered that it's first blooms would not appear for twelve years. As I said to my husband, only half kidding, "I would have been sixty-five."

Standing at the top of the slope with my "weenie dog," I looked down at that thorny tree, and what did I see? A bloom. When Happy and I finally reached the bottom (you never rush a weenie dog, when he is reading the grass), there were TWO blooms. My heart filled up with wonder! Two blooms. Two little bouquets, sent by God above, four years early. Just for me.

I can't explain to you why this little treasure filled my heart with so much wonder, when there is so much more this spring, but the blooming of the thorn tree has won the prize in my heart; and I think I know why.

Aren't our lives a lot like this thorn tree? Sometimes quite unlovely, prickly with thorns, and then, when we least expect it, in one wonderful springtime in our lives, we bloom. We show them all! And most of all, we show ourselves.

I am in the autumn of my life. God has brought me through illness after illness, and like that unlovely tree, sometimes it feels as though my way is filled with thorns. But God never gives up on me. There will be a new medicine. I'll have to try harder to lose that extra eighteen pounds, but in my husband's eyes and in the eyes of my children, and best of all, in the eyes of God, I bloom. So today, my heart is filled with blooms and wonder.

With love,
Jaye Lewis