Sometimes I Miss Messy Newsprint

Once upon a time, I fancied myself a beloved newspaper columnist. I did! I grew up loving Erma Bombeck, a humorous newspaper columnist whom my mom and I read to each other often. She wrote in an easy conversational tone about everyday aspects of life. She made us chuckle with recognition and her little 5-inch writings were magneted up on many refrigerators of her day.

When I was in my late 30s, raising two boys and brand new at the busy job of being the senior pastor’s wife of a struggling church, I saw a tiny opportunity to fulfill this quiet dream of being a newspaper writer.

My husband and I were the leaders of a very small church in a small town with a small-town newspaper. Every other Wednesday the Dixon Tribune ran a page titled, RELIGION PAGE. Typically, the religion page published short articles from several churches in town. The church page articles always gave the latest sermon title, information about fundraisers, the days and hours of upcoming services, and the church address.

I looked at this page and had an idea that may get rejected, but I decided to go for it anyway. I wrote an article for our church that had nothing to do with the sermons or fundraisers. I just talked about my life with God, my kids, and our city. Of course, I ended each article with an invitation to our church with the necessary details included.

The first time I submitted an article, I was sure it would get rejected and I would be told that my style of writing was not right for the Religion Page. Keep in mind that this was around 1992. Email was around, but not widely used yet. I could not anonymously send my words to the local newspaper. I had to type my article out on a word processor, make a copy, and take it into the newspaper office by hand! By hand!

They printed it! I was thrilled to see my very own words in a real-life newspaper! After a few months of doing this twice a month, I noticed that the paper added my name in a by-line! This was not a paid writing job in any way at all. But I absolutely loved it! I tried my best to keep my writing fresh, a little bit funny, and always upbeat. I wanted readers to see the beautiful and joyful side of life with a loving God.

The other day I pulled out a little binder that I had created to hold my articles from those days. Sadly, I do not have all of them and there is no record of them anywhere as far as I know. But that’s okay because I am sure that every article was not a winner anyway. But I did save copies of my favorites in this binder. As I read them today, I am happy to say that most of them hold up and do not make me cringe too much. Phew! And guess what? I was told by a few people that my articles actually ended up under a magnet on their refrigerators!

If you’ve read this far, maybe you’d be interested in reading a few of my newspaper articles? If so, read on, I will give you one right now…It was June and our California city had endured a few days of extra strong winds. Everyone was talking about the wind everywhere I went.

An Unmovable Love

As I sit here writing, my house is loudly moaning. The backyard fence is moving around as if it wants to go for a walk and the trees in my yard are doing the wildest dance I have ever seen them do! Our patio swing, which is very heavy and awkward, has decided to lie down on its back. Thankfully the dog was not napping behind it.

I thought that the three-person swing was large and stable enough to stand against this wind. But something about the tilt of the canopy was just right to help this invisible power turn it over on its back with its legs in the air in a very undignified manner.

I am watching and hearing an unusual amount of activity for a normally quiet, peaceful house with swings that only move when you want them to, and a fence that is perfectly satisfied to stay in one place. Your house may be experiencing some extra movement today too.

The wind is finding out what is movable and what is not. Some things that are hit by the wind will stand and force the wind to go around them. Others will be carried away by the strength of the wind and you may have to go get your wandering garbage tote out of the neighbor’s driveway.

What is movable and what is not? Even as I am listening to the mighty wind hit my house, I am reminded that the love of my heavenly Father is totally unmovable.

During this month of celebrating Father’s Day, many different images of fathers come to our minds. Some of us may have negative or painful thoughts of our dads. Some of us have only good, nurturing feelings. The truth is that our earthly fathers have a love that is very possible to move and change.

But the love of our Father God is too strong, too deep, too much a part of Him to be changeable in any way. There is NOTHING that you can do to make Him love you more or love you less. His love is total and limitless.

When a mighty wind hits a mountain, the mountain does not move, the wind must go around and over it. The mountain is unmovable, like the love of God for you. As I listen to the wind outside explore what will and what will not move, I am secure in the steadfast, unchanging, unmovable love of my Father God.

We lived in the little house next to the church for a few years before buying our own home.

So I guess that my main writing theme has always been about LOVE! I remember realizing that most faith writers talked about what not to do, what to be afraid of, and who to stay away from. I did not, and do not see my faith in that light.

I have avoided going down “memory lane” for several reasons. But this year it feels like I am strong enough to look back and pull the good from the not-so-good. At 69 years old, I have more behind me than ahead of me. That is a very weird thing to wrap my head around, but God is walking me through the past in a gentle way that is helping me cherish the life I’ve lived so far. I hope you won’t mind if I share some bits every once in a while.

Love, Susie

Journals by Susie Klein

UPDATE 2/28/24

A brand new journal available Feb 28, 2024! Titled Sunset Thoughts. This beauty is designed with a quiet evening ritual in mind. The house is finally feeling peaceful, the busy activity of your day is over and it is time to rest. Your body is gearing down for a good night’s sleep, but your mind is still spinning. I have found that night journaling can be a trusted method to ease my mind about concerns and unfinished business. It can also help my sleep to write out the joys and moments of thankfulness from my day. This lovely cover photo was taken in my backyard!

UPDATE 2/16/24

Hi Friends, I am so excited about my latest journal for you! Titled, DEAR LORD. This beauty is a Prayer Journal with two-word prayer prompts on each page. You will find 25 different tiny prompts, such as Gracious Lord, Why Lord?, and Holy Lord. Sometimes a tiny inspiration will begin a huge conversation. Available now, HERE.

My journal-keeping habit began like many others before me. I started with a tiny white diary, trimmed in gold. The best part? It had the littlest gold key ever! Maybe the key is what instilled in me that a journal was a safe space for my thoughts, questions, prayers, and dreams.

Today I have a closet shelf stuffed with journals of all sizes, designs, and styles. I never stopped recording my innermost thoughts. At this moment I could easily pull out a journal and see exactly what day my eldest son took his first steps 41 years ago, or I could read how I felt when my mom passed away in 2011. I also scribbled about my ordinary days and my desperate prayers as I longed to follow God in the best way possible. My life with two sons and a husband is all there in those colorful little books on my closet shelf.

Journal-keeping is a gift that you give yourself. There is something about the process of writing out your thoughts that brings clarity. It helps you to leave the problem on the page. Looking at the pages helps you see your patterns and the highs and lows of your heart and mind.

This last year I taught myself how to design and create journals for purchase. I think about each one for a long time while choosing the right photo and title. So far I have only used photos from my own life collection for the covers. These are pictures that I have taken over my 68 years. Each one has it’s own story and is important to me.

The covers for “Rest” and “Thankful” are from my parents property in Washington. The photos for “Breathe”, and “Listen” were taken here in my neighborhood. The adorable “Longhorn” cover was taken while I was on a walk near my son’s former home during our first week here in Texas. The inviting water on the cover of “Thoughts” is my beloved swimming pool! The pile of old books, titled “Bookstack” is how I decorate my home. Old books are everywhere! The Christmas stockings and the ceramic Christmas tree on the Holiday journals were all crafted by my mom. 

All of my journals are available on Amazon. Just click on the picture that you are interested in and it will take you there and tell you a bit about each one. All are 120 lined pages, except for “Breathe” which is unlined. They are 6″x9″, paperback books. Check back often because I am constantly working on new journals for you!

Enjoy!, Susie

Tradition Shmadition!

One bright, but chilly day in the middle of November, a kind and cheerful woman that we will call…..Sushi, finally decided to quit feeling sad that the summer-swimmy days were over. She chose to wholeheartedly embrace the coming season of Winter and her favorite holiday, Christmas! She really had no choice because the pool toys were put away and the pool was freezing cold, with no plans to turn on a pool heater.

Sushi implored her husband, umm…..Shmurt, to please bring the Christmas decorations down from the attic. Standing at the base of the attic stairs in the cold garage, waiting for him to hand down the boxes, she recalled that when she had put away the Christmas tree lights last year, she’d done a little experiment. Instead of separating the strings of lights, she kept them all connected and wrapped the multiple strings around a metal tray to keep them from becoming tangled.

You need to know that even though I have described our friend, Sushi, as a kind and cheerful woman, she does have some quirks. She is grumpy that the tree is a job that is totally up to her. She assembles it, lights it, and decorates it. Her sweet grandchildren usually help with the last task, and she loves to let them loose to hang the old family ornaments anywhere they want. They plan to help in the coming week. She feels kind of proud that she allows them to help.

“See, I’m not controlling!” Sushi mutters to herself while struggling to wrap the long cord of lights around the tree, a few days later. Her faithful dog….Schmetta, wondered why she kept talking to the weird thing that was clearly not-a-tree.

Sadly, once the extra heavy and extra long string of lights had been carefully wound around the tall tree, Sushi plugged them in and many sections were dark! And yes, dear Reader, she had tested the lights before wrestling to get them evenly around the tree. Her muttering is now growing louder and her body is getting tense as she hoped to get this job finished before her husband came home from work. (Again, Sushi is not controlling, she just wants it done when she wants it done.)

Poor, tired, Shmurt walks in from work and finds his dear wife frustrated, angry, and saying outrageous things like, “Who needs lights anyway! Maybe we could just do without Christmas lights this year!”

Sushi is dirty, sore, and at the end of her patience. In years past she has done it all without help, but today is a different story. She could not do it on her own. That could be the only explanation for such ridiculous words to come from her mouth. Her husband suddenly knew that this was a serious situation indeed. As he watched her stomp from the living room and into their bedroom, he had to come to her rescue.

So, dear Readers, if you are still with me on this little tale, this is the point in the story of Sushi and her Christmas tree where something odd happens and a lesson is learned.

Each year this kind and cheerful woman slowly and gently removes her old and cherished tree ornaments from the carefully wrapped papers and reminisces about each one as she hangs it on the tree. Later she will let the grandkids add the less fragile decorations, but for now, the nostalgia takes over as each small glass, wood, or construction paper creation brings back memories.

But this year she is mad and doesn’t want to have anything more to do with the tree. It’s a quiet mad, nothing shouty or noticeable. So dear Shmurt decides to correct the lights on the tree and she thanks him, but still she does not want to hang decorations just yet.

He opens the boxes of baubles and balls and begins to place them on the tree. Now Shmurt is different from Sushi, in that he is very methodical and extremely orderly. He does not randomly pull out decorations and hum as he wanders around the tree looking for a fun spot like Sushi usually does. His style is almost scientific in its precision and care.

First, he hangs all of the smallest, red Christmas balls, next he places all of the medium-sized, red Christmas balls, of course, followed by the large, red Christmas balls. Staying with the red theme, he then places all of the red Santas, red-stocking-capped-gnomes, and little red trucks that his wife adores. There also happened to be quite a few red mittens and red stars to add to the tree.

He says something like, “Hey, I like it this way, with just red things on the tree. Why don’t we leave it like this?”

Well, excuse me, but Sushi did not respond in the affirmative to this silly suggestion at all! What in the world was he thinking? Are we supposed to leave the handprints in the box? Are we going to ignore the paper angels just because they are not red? Are you suggesting that we don’t hang the golden stars or the cookie dough stocking just because it is orange? What about the Baby’s First Christmas ornament or the Favorite Teacher star?

Guess what? This may only happen for one year. It is probably a one-time event. But, both Sushi and Shmurt started to really love the look of the totally red-decorated Christmas tree! Sushi was heard saying that it was kind of refreshing and beautiful to look at. She even thought that the completely red-toned tree felt a little bit rebellious in a kind and cheerful kind of way.

As the days went by, Sushi found herself smiling every time she looked at their pretty red-decorated Christmas tree. It was actually fun to do something different from their traditional way. It was OK to mix things up a bit! The world did not end because a tradition was altered. What do you know!

I’ve been told that Sushi learned an important and sweet lesson this holiday season. Though she, of course, is NOT a controlling person when it comes to Christmas, it does not hurt to allow others to step in and add their own ideas once in a while. Someone else can see things in a whole new way and it can be beautiful.

Sushi, Shmurt, and their dog…Schmetta… wish you a very merry Christmas around your own decorated trees!

My New Creative Venture!

Hi Friends. I have recently found myself in a fun and challenging new creative venture. I am creating paperback, blank books to be used as journals. They are self-published and easily available for purchase on amazon.

A couple of months ago my husband suggested I look into learning about “passive income” and wondered if I would want to create and sell journals. My first answer was that it sounded more complicated than he realized and that I could not do it. I told him that I had professional help getting my book self-published seven years ago, and was not sure that I could do it on my own.

But the germ of an idea was planted and I started doing my research. I spent a week watching YouTube tutorials and reading articles about the process. As I experimented over and over again, it felt like a challenge that I could conquer if I could just stick with it long enough.

Do you know that feeling? It grabs you and you cannot give up. I’m sure my husband could hear me in the other room grumbling or cheering at myself as I slowly figured out each step in the process. It was fun!

My first attempt was to make a blank, lined journal that could accompany my book, Walking Butterfly. It has the same butterfly graphic on the cover. Although not perfect, it was a good beginning. I sent some copies to my sister who is in a book club that is currently discussing my book and they loved it!

Now I am hooked on the process! There are eight journals in my collection so far. All of the covers are my own photos. Beautiful pictures from my life. There are flowers from my walks with my dog, a frozen tree from my backyard, water in our swimming pool, mossy trees, and a driveway from my parent’s home. And yes, my love for dishes is sure to show up in my collection!

I am keeping the price low so people can feel free to purchase as many as they want. The quality is beautiful. They are well put together and sturdy enough to throw in a backpack or handbag. It just occurred to me that these little journals would make great stocking stuffers!

In the next few weeks, I will add some holiday-themed journals and maybe even experiment with some covers that would appeal to kids who are just beginning their adventure into journal-keeping! (Note to Self: Ask Grandson what he would like on a cover.)

I also accidentally discovered that these 120-page, lined, paperback journals would make a great companion to the popular challenge to change our long list of New Year’s resolutions to One Word for the year. I was telling my friend Dawn at The Journal Enthusiast, about a new journal I created, titled LISTEN. She happily texted back that LISTEN was her One Word for the year! So fun!

The journal titled, BREATHE, is unlined. An artistic friend who loves to sketch and doodle in her quiet times inspired me to create a journal with unlined pages. Logic says that creating a book without text, pictures or lines would be the easiest project. It was not!

My commission on these journals is tiny, but I love having a new creative outlet and following wherever it leads! I hope that you will click on over there and check them out. And keep peeking at my Amazon site every once in a while because I will be adding more and more new journals all the time! If you lose this link, you can simply put “susie klein journals” in the amazon search bar and it will take you there.

Keep journaling!

Susie

If We Listen…

Counting the “God Said” moments in my book.

Do you think that God is still communicating with us? If so, how do you hear His voice?

If you want to stir up a great conversation in a group, just ask those two questions. I have wanted to chat with you about this subject since a crazy incident happened about 6 weeks ago. August 15, 2023, to be exact.

But first, before I tell you what took place, let’s talk about the whole idea that God, the Creator of all things, is still on speaking terms with His creation. Little ol’ us.

Yesterday I went through my book, Walking Butterfly, to see how often I wrote that God spoke to me. I found that out of 21 chapters, I quoted God speaking to me 13 times. Those 13 stories were all about what He said to me. Without His words, those stories would not exist.

Those moments were a very big deal. They were life-changing. The fact that He spoke to me was overwhelming in itself. The words He said are what confirmed it was Him and not me. Does that make sense? The idea that God wanted to communicate with me at all, was an expression of love in itself. And then, the things He said, or the impressions He gave me, forced me to acknowledge that it came from Him alone.

But, I could have dismissed them as my imagination, or a coincidence. It is easy and natural to do that in our busy lives. So many thoughts, come and go in a second. I am thankful for journaling, because I sometimes jotted a thought down and realized only later that it was God speaking to me.

I believe that God is talking to all of us, all of the time. In many different ways. It is often done in such a natural and subtle way that we do not recognize His voice or His message. The inner sense of grandeur that you feel settle over you while you watch a sunrise; that is Him. That intuition that leads you in the correct direction is Him whispering to you. Many coincidences that affect your day, are actually God letting you know that He is there, and aware.

I know people who describe a life of full-on back and forth conversations with God. He does not talk to me like that. The stories in my book span over a long period of time. The chapters are highlights and lowlights of my life covering about 60 years. God gives me small phrases, or a single word, or just a picture.

One picture He showed me was of a proper little butterfly walking along a sidewalk, when she could have been using the gorgeous wings that were dragging along behind her. One phrase He whispered to me was, “Your fat is beautiful.” (Chapter 21, Walking Butterfly) I KNEW for a fact, that that was not me! I argued with Him and still do not have any clarification on that, other than, “My thoughts are not your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8-9)

While I was reading an abusive letter from a boyfriend many years ago, I heard God whisper in my mind, “You do not deserve this.” But before that thought came, I DID feel that I deserved it. I was used to it, it felt normal and acceptable to me. The surprising thought shocked me, woke me up, and I broke up with the guy immediately.

Speaking of surprises, the way God spoke to my husband last month was a brand new method for me. He spoke to us on our FaceBook pages!

On August 15, 2023, my husband stepped out to the backyard where I was with the grandkids, and he had a huge grin on his face. He was holding his phone or tablet, don’t remember which it was. He showed me the FB “Memory” post that came up on his page moments before. Pictured above.

My husband told me that when he woke up that morning, he had simply prayed, “God, can we just make You smile today?”

Then he had opened his Facebook page and a memory came up from the same day, but in 2009. In 2009 my husband had posted, “God is thinking about you…and He has a huge smile on His face!” A post from 14 years ago! You guys! Those “Memory” posts are random right? Why did this one pop up?

So, adding to my list of ways that God speaks to us…He uses Facebook! Crazy!

I would love to hear your stories of God speaking to you. Did He show you a picture, say something in your mind, did you hear a voice with your ears, or did He use social media to get your attention? Tell me your stories.

Love, Susie

Not Alone

I have been cleaning and organizing my home and life for the last two weeks. All floors are vacuumed, some have even been mopped! I have dusted cobwebs out of window sills, scrubbed refrigerator shelves, and done multiple loads of laundry. Our fridge holds a huge bag of frozen tortilla soup, a large pyrex of roasted veggies and several baggies of presorted chopped fruit for smoothies.

My husband watched all this and remarked that it is just like what I do when preparing for Christmas. I answered that I feel better when my world is clean and organized. Always getting the last word, he said, “Susie, your world is always clean and organized.”

I honestly had not planned to write about this, but when I was in the backyard, shaking out rugs just now, the sweetest thing happened and it made me smile and want to write. The weather is finally a sensible 92 degrees here in Texas today and I was reveling in the beauty of not getting slammed in the face by heat. At that moment a really large, bright yellow butterfly soared across my line of vision and circled my yard a few times before landing for a few seconds on the edge of our pool. It was so pretty and so lighthearted that it made me smile and giggle a bit.

I needed a giggle and smile. I am scared and nervous about my first ever surgery, happening in a couple of days. It is not terribly serious or life threatening at all, but I’ve got the jitters for sure. Did I write about falling while walking my dog, Gretta? After many months of pain in my twisted foot, we have discovered that I ripped a tendon and my doc is going to stitch it back together this week. (Yep, I did write about my fall, in “Being Careful Stinks!” )

All the extra cleaning and cooking is because I am supposed to stay off my feet for two weeks following the operation. My husband will be great at caring for me, I know that. But veggies are my favorite and he is not a big fan. So, I now know that I will have easy access to my fruit and vegetables without too much effort. And while he is awesome at cleaning the cars, garage, yard and pool, I’m not sure he really notices the dog hair or dust inside the house. So I got ‘er done.

My sister texed me last night and told me she was praying for me and the surgery. She told me a story about how my niece felt the touch of Jesus hand on her shoulder when she was feeling scared and alone in the hospital giving birth during the pandemic shutdown.

Her story reminded me of a scary moment in my life many years ago. I was driving over the Santa Cruz mountain alone in a rainstorm, going back to college after Christmas vacation at home, about 100 miles away.

As my fingers gripped the steering wheel and I struggled to see through the sheets of rainwater on the windshield, I clearly heard, “I am here.” It was so clear that I glanced over to the passenger seat fully expecting to see Jesus riding along with me.

Both of those little stories are filling me with a new calm about my week ahead. I am still scared, but I don’t feel alone. I am reminded that I am loved and watched over. And the yellow butterfly? Come on, is He just showing off now?

Susie

Pool Ponderings – Sacred Spaces

Stephanie Carlson

Mike Jarvis

I woke up grumpy this morning. No, I am not talking about my husband. He begins his day an hour or so before me. My mood this morning was a disgruntled one. No particular reason, just disgruntled, as in, not gruntled, I guess.

I took Gretta for a short walk because we expect temps in the triple digits again today, and any outside activity must happen before 8am. She really just wanted to stop and sniff every little thing, and by the time we arrived back at the house, I was still feeling cranky and out of sorts.

It is a Saturday and since Husband is not working, I wanted to make some nice omelets for our breakfast. But I also wanted a swim, and again, in this heatwave, even a swim has to happen before it gets unbearable outside. I told him we’d have a good brunch after my swim and out I went.

And I floated. I let the crystal clear water simply hold me up and gently take me around the pool. Surrounded by a beautiful silence. No pool accessories needed. Just me and lots of water. I floated under the trees that hang over our fence from the wooded area behind our yard.

With my eyes open, I floated and floated. I watched a butterfly flutter from tree to tree. A sudden wiggling of some branches told me that squirrels were nearby as usual. Thankfully, this early in the morning the local wasps tend to be calm and a bit lazy, so they did not concern me as I floated on top of the water. The only sounds are from the gentle little waterfall into our pool.

As I watched the swaying trees above me, I once again knew that this was my new sacred space. My place to connect with God in a way I cannot do anywhere else. Can I try to describe the original “Sacred Space” in my life?

I am taking a deep breath right now as I take myself back to this special time in my life, in my family’s life. Our large church had moved out of a restrictive and controlling denomination and we became non-denominational in a time before “non-denominational” became its own denomination. (IYKYK)

We longed for extended times of simply being in God’s presence. We were learning that worship can be much broader and at the same time, much simpler than we had experienced before. We needed a chunk of time to be with God without restraint due to a sermon or classes beginning at a certain hour. It felt like being hungry for more of something, without even knowing for sure what the “something” was. So, Saturday night Sacred Space was born, led by our close friends, Bob and Barb, a gifted worship leader and sound engineer couple.

Sacred Space was an evening every week dedicated to unlimited worship. Without agenda. Without an order of service. Without a spoken message. Without interruption. Just live music and open-ended time in the presence of God.

I would enter the huge sanctuary with my Bible, my journal. And lots of kleenex. Those first weeks of Sacred Space were full of tears for me. I did not always know why. But the tears would flow as I basked in the love of One So Mighty. What else could I do?

I usually had a favorite corner to sit and listen, and quietly scribble my thoughts and questions about God and who He wanted me to be. Sometimes I would stand and sing, swaying with the beautiful music. Many of the stories in Walking Butterfly are from my intimate encounters with God during Sacred Space.

In fact, I just remembered that my friend, Joyce, wrote the following as an endorsement at the front of my book. “For years I watched my dear friend Susie Klein, worship in corners of rooms. While others lifted their hearts to God in more outspoken ways, Susie’s worship – her Eucharistic practice, if you will – unfolded quietly as she wrote in her journals. This book is a result of her honest and private conversations with her Best Friend, seen through the perspective of time and wisdom. Let her light a candle in an unseen corner of your life. Joyce Milton”

There were also moments of pure bliss when I could not be still and I danced in my corner of the sanctuary. I reveled in being a much-loved daughter of God and the only way I could express such joy was with movement. I am SO SO grateful that this was in the 90s when we were not yet recording every single experience with our phones. I know that I was not as graceful as I felt. But I did not care, because it was for Him and no one else. It was quiet and gentle and felt wonderful.

Remember when I mentioned that we had left a restrictive denomination? I had grown up believing that dancing was a sin. That moving to music was evil and dangerous. When boys at school invited me to dances, I literally responded with, “Sorry, dancing is against my religion.” Cringe! So the idea of dancing as worship to God was a pretty big deal for me. I was finding true freedom!

The beautiful thing about freedom is that it opens the door to huge creativity. Soon we were seeing wonderful new expressions of worship from everyone in the church. My current home is now decorated with many treasured results of those extended worship times together. The pictures above are on my walls and they constantly remind me those special evenings.

As we continued to gather on Saturday nights, some would ask if they could express their worship through painting, sculpture, or drawing. The answer was always “Yes”. The artist would lay down a small tarp, set up their easel and paint and listen to the music for a while. And then they would paint whatever felt right. Whatever spoke about the music and worship for them.

My friend Stephanie did not draw the dancing girl with dark hair with me in mind. But later, she mentioned that it made her think of me sending my praises up to The Father, and now it hangs cheerfully in my dining room. I love it! The sculptor did his work in the sanctuary one night and another friend used his gift of photography to capture the beautiful moment that hangs in my hallway.

Freedom can be messy. It can be unexpected and even disturbing to some. Our nights of Sacred Space were a safe place to experiment and lean into new ways to give ourselves to God and listen to Him. It was beautiful. It was Heavenly.

There were no sermons. No chatter from the church platform between songs. No announcements or offerings. It felt natural and real. Kind of like my floating time this morning. I did not ask God for anything. I didn’t even tell Him anything. I just floated and enjoyed His trees.

And it was sacred. It washed away my bad mood. It took away my disgruntlement… It was time with Him. I was just trying to get rid of my bad mood. But floating on my back, gazing at the swaying trees above became my sacred place. The word, “sacred” means that something is dedicated, or set apart for “the worship of a diety”.

You may accidentally stumble across your sacred space like I did, or you may want to intentionally find it. What is your go-to happy place? What is your Peter Pan “happy thought” that helps you fly?

If your home is a busy one, your sacred space might be in the back of a closet with a box of chocolates. God will meet you there. For some, it is driving alone, or getting sweaty on a long run. God will ride with you or run alongside you.

If you are lucky, you will be part of a group of like-minded seekers like I was, and together you will be able to gather together simply to bask in God’s love for a nice chunk of time. I would LOVE to hear about your sacred space.

Could you leave a comment here or on my Facebook post? Tell me about your sacred space. Freedom leads to creativity, and it will be fun to hear about your creative ways to find Sacred Space.

Love, Susie

Joyce Milton created this for me during that same wonderful season!

Pool Ponderings – Aliens

You are about to read a small but mighty rant. It will not give you a spiritual uplift, or help you navigate your life today. But it’s “on my heart” and I have to release it, ok? You can choose to move along or linger and read.

Okay, you made your choice. Here goes…

To the people who always say, “If you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you.” I am sorry, but this simply does not work for me. Today’s pool pondering is about wasps. I detest the creatures.

Whenever someone expresses fear or frustration with creatures like wasps, snakes or bees, you will often hear the advice that if we do not bother them, they won’t bother us. But it is not true!

OK, it may be true about snakes. When I see one in my backyard (which happens, now that I live in Texas), if I walk away, it will slither (shudder!!) away too. But I still know he is there…and I don’t like it.

But, back to my “arch nemesis”, the wasps that love my yard.
Here is my question:

How in the world do I know if I am “bothering “ them?

Does my breathing in their airspace bother them?
If I walk into their flight path accidentally, will that offend them?
If a wasp considers my pool to be his drinking water, will I be a disgusting trespasser when I swim “in his bowl”?
If my pool towel becomes his hiding spot, will he be disturbed by my use of the towel? Will he be justifiably “bothered” by me?
If my grandkids splash water on him, can he lodge a complaint that we “ bothered” him?

Are we hurting his feelings?

Offense is difficult to discern when it is regarding a creature that has no communication skills. Wasps are like specters from an alien planet. And I am expected to know what bothers him, and not do it. How do I do that? I want peace as much as anyone. I am an animal lover. But these creepy guys with their hanging-down-legs-when-they-fly are not animals.

I just now googled, ‘What to do when a wasp is flying around you?’ Here is what google told me to do…

“Just stay still and let it fly off in its own time. A wasp trapped in clothing is more difficult to deal with because any slight movement can press garments against it. So, if you can bear it, stay very still and let the wasp find its own way out.”

Umm, nope! Google also added, “Wasps are very sensitive to movement, so any yelling, flailing, or running will only be worse. The insect will see you as a threat and start attacking.”

Yep, I am in trouble. I also read somewhere that you should never crush a wasp to kill it because the squashing will release an aroma or chemical that calls other wasps to the site. What!?!

The question remains; How do know if I am BOTHERING them? They are definitely bothering me, following me around the pool when I am just trying not to breathe wrong or make eye contact.

HOW DO I KNOW?

Deciding to Hit Delete or Publish

Ok, My Lovelies,

I will quickly write this before I can talk myself out of it. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I edit myself down to silence. I second, third and fourth guess, leaving nothing to say.

Here is what happened just now. (ok so in my mind, immediately after writing that sentence, I thought, “why are you making it sound SO dramatic? The build-up will overshadow what you actually say.” I really need to put in some earplugs to block out the “reasonable” side of my brain.)

After swimming back and forth in my pool today, I floated and stared at the trees behind our home. This is my happy place, my “grounding” space. My wonderful husband and I were recently talking about our lives together so far and what we have done, where we have been. Our past is not amazing by any means, but it could surprise some people.

So in the pool just now I felt God ask me to list what I personally have done or been that are interesting. I argued with Him. I know, dumb, right? I reminded HIM that my life has been dull and humdrum and that I am basically a wimp who never takes risks. But I began my list in my head as I tread water and floated on my back here in hot Texas.

The list contained mostly ordinary things, but sprinkled through it are pretty amazing moments and experiences that would surprise people who know me now. Someday I will share that list with you. Not today.

My thoughts were interrupted by a “beep” from my phone telling me that a text is waiting for me. I ignored it and continued floating around, letting my eyes follow the Dragonflies that were flitting back and forth over the pool.

Going to my pool chair and pulling out the book I am currently reading, I grabbed my phone to read the text. It was from my sister. She suggested my book to a group of women and they are now discussing it! They are meeting weekly, where they read a chapter aloud (yikes!) and then discuss it together.

Honestly, I love that she is doing this! But I am trying not to think about it too much. These women live in another state, all strangers to me and the idea that this is happening is very intimidating to me. I will join them through Zoom when they have their last gathering. Yikes, again!

My sister’s text today is an update of their comments and excitement over my book, Walking Butterfly. My awesome sister said some really beautiful things to me about the huge impact this book is having. That it is bringing hope and possibility to the readers.

Her text “..this hope when we pray together, can this really be? Does God really long to smile and laugh and giggle with me? To dance and look into my eyes? Is HE truly in love with me?” Then she wrote, “Look up Sis, keep dancing, keep loving, keep writing!”

The simple message that God loves us deeply. That He enjoys us. It is not new news. It is old news. But it is difficult to believe. I texted my sis back that I need to read my own book again. I need to re-believe it. I need to be reminded that I am cherished by God. Instead of arguing with Him. I want to accept His embrace. Stop struggling to convince Him that I am nothing.

I told my sister to tell her book group that I need to re-read my own book. To tell them that it is an ongoing battle to believe in that kind of ridiculous love. It is a love that makes no sense. Our world is working hard to convince us that we are worthless and less-than. That we do not deserve such an unconditional love.

But deserved or not, we have it. HE loves us without reserve, without question or evaluations. It is not a measured and sensible love. It is a breathtaking, overwhelming, sweep-us-off-our-feet, kind of love. Without second, third or fourth guessing.

Yes my Friends, the questions come up immediately; But what about? So why does this or that happen? If He loves, then why…?

Join me in ignoring those questions for just a minute. Don’t edit His love down to silence. Take a moment to bask in the huge, infinity and beyond, love that He is offering. Roll around in it, let it get all over you. Those questions will still be there. Maybe you could do the little homework assignment that my sis gave her group. Ask God what He likes about you.

Then listen.

Susie

When My GPS Preached at Me

I do not like blog posts that begin with a cute story and then suddenly make a quick turn saying, …”and that reminds me of how God says blah blah blah…” I promise not to bait and switch you, so I will come right out and say this post is about a funny little story that felt like God was talking to me.

On my recent trip to Oregon, my brother texted me, trying to make me laugh and I texted back that I was angry at the GPS in our rental car because she was not talking to us. It just went silent and I wanted the audio help.

Well, I discovered 100 miles later that she had stopped talking because she had already told us to stay on the same road for the next 100 miles. There was no need for her to add anything more. So I sent this text to my brother…

My brother’s answer was that my GPS sounded like a sermon illustration, and you can see my cranky response to that. I had just spent the weekend with my siblings and we talked about knowing what our next steps in life were supposed to be.

One week later I received the sweetest and most beautiful email from a blog and book reader in the UK. We had never met, but she wrote to thank me for my blog/book and spoke about how much they helped her in a difficult time. The next thing she wrote blew me away.

She felt God prompting her to write and encourage me to look into creating a children’s version of my book!

You guys, I have never mentioned that idea here, but I did work on writing a kid’s version of Walking Butterfly in 2020 for my preschool class at the time. I tested it out on them, but since it was an online video class, I had no way to know what the response was. Then I got overwhelmed with the publishing details and illustrations etc. and I gave up on the idea.

Is it crazy to think that God used our GPS and a lovely reader 5,000 miles away to give me a nudge? To remind me that I am not done writing? Does He do this? Maybe God already told me what to do 100 miles ago. Now what?

I will tell you this. The letter from far away definitely reminded me that I do still have a voice. It made me hungry to write again. It made me begin searching my heart for my true purpose.

And now, I suddenly have so many ideas popping up in my head. Usually, while I am swimming or floating in my pool and staring up at the trees behind our yard. Maybe I need to look into a water proof laptop.

I do not know how I will do it or what it will look like, but somehow I am going to work on creating a kid’s version of Walking Butterfly. Yikes, this is really scary to put out there! Being kinda vulnerable here.

I do not think it is true every time, but sometimes when we feel like God is silent, it could be that He already told us what to do and we haven’t done it. Or we may be dismissing some tiny messages from Him that seem too natural and not “written in the sky” type of words from above. I believe that He speaks to us in a million different ways. Most of them are small and could appear insignificant.

I am now asking Him to help me hear more clearly and to obey more quickly.

Join me?

Susie