Tuesday, December 22, 2015


For months and months I have found little ability to write.  Some of the time I have sat down and tried my darnedest to put virtual pen to paper; and other times I have simply relied heavily on the fact that it just hasn't been working for me lately, and I have scooted it firmly off to the side of my mind.

All of the time wondering why God was bothering me about it.  It seemed that practically every time we would get together He would bring up the fact that I wasn't using my gift.
Sort of like that one thing your mother always asks about when you have family gatherings.  And you think....geeezzz, Mom.  Let it alone.  I'm a big kid now and I will get around to it when I get around to it.
But deep inside you wonder if she is right and you are wrong.

Turns out, He was right, and I have been wrong.

And then I learned something yesterday.
The gift works best when plugged into the source.  I also learned that He hasn't just been suggesting that I write; but He has also been suggesting that we spend time together, He and I.
Apparently, He is pretty crazy about me, and likes to hang out on a more than occasional  basis.

So we have been.

And, all of that time together as of late has fired up and fueled up my writing fingers.
So, yesterday when my sweet friend shared her emotions over putting her son on a plane, I felt something drop into me.  I knew that I knew that I knew that I could write about it.
And I honestly cannot remember the last time I felt so anointed to use that virtual pen.  It was almost like a soft humming of 'peace and all is rightness with the world', while I typed away.

And the moral of the story is....
when I spend time with Him, I have fuel to use my gift of writing; and when I use my gift of writing, I become an outlet for His message of love, grace, and redemption; and when I become that outlet I feel a peace that passes all the understanding I do and don't have about all the stuff in my life right now.

And I will take that peaceful hum over anything else.

This is me turning my face back towards His.
From whom all blessings flow..... (Hymn)

Monday, December 21, 2015

The Christmas Gift

I have a sweet friend who is putting her baby on a plane over the Christmas holidays.  Christmas Day to be exact.  It must be difficult to put your baby on a plane on Christmas Day when you would rather be snuggled up by the tree watching your favorite movie together, and sipping hot cocoa with extra marshmallows.
But this one, she's a strong one.  If anyone can kiss her baby goodbye, and wish him the very best of Christmases, while her own heart is drooping and dripping, and all that sloppy mess of motherhood at its finest....it is this one.  She is strong.

She is beautiful, and she is kind, and she wishes no one harm.
She is strong, and wise, and she spends her evenings imparting strong and wise things into her little man's life.
She is the sort of person you hope will be your friend.
And the kind of mother other kids envy.

And God will bless her for allowing her little one to spread his wings, and for giving him the gift of being able to explore this great big world with those great big eyes.
And I believe that our gracious Heavenly Father will love on her a little extra this year because she is sharing the most precious thing she has with others who love and need her little man as much as she does.

And if anyone knows about sharing a precious son it is our Heavenly Father.
His heart has swayed to the rhythm of this very same beat; and He understands the path she walks this Christmas holiday.

So, pray for my sweet friend today.
And thank the Father for the reason we celebrate Christmas; and the gift He gave when He shared His Son with us.

And to all a good night.


Friday, August 14, 2015

The Fire Pit

There was the time we all worked in the yard and Dad and I built a fire pit.

Good times.
Does a fire pit have to be finished and in working order to be called a fire pit?  Because we dug a pretty good sized hole and then put some funky looking bricks around it before we had to stop because of a mound of fire ants.
Mom and the girl started hollering so Dad and I stepped in to save the ladies.  Basically, we just lit part of the backyard on fire, even though it made Mom really nervous.
Dad says moms are like that, and that he knows what he's doing despite what Mom says.
I know what I'm doing too.
Basically, I just stick with Dad, that's what I do.

Once the fire pit was built, the Spring rains came and filled the pit for a solid month.
Dad said not to worry about it because that fire pit was designed in such a way to serve two purposes.
 In the cooler weather when Mom was wishing for a fire pit to warm her toes by, we would have one ready to go.  But, in the rainy season, the fire pit would serve as a measurement for the water level under the ground.  Dad said that he knew what he was doing when he built it that way.

Dad also said that he really didn't think it was such a good idea to drink out of the fire pit, but I think he just means that Rodney shouldn't drink out of the fire pit because he's so small.  One gust of wind and Rodney could fall in, and then I would have to get up and go save him.
And since I really have a lot to do during the waking hours of the day, and because I'm the exact opposite of a St. Bernard, I would rather not have to save Rodney if it can be avoided.
He can be very needy, that Rodster fellow.
Sometimes I have to take a nap just thinking about him.

So, I'm off to nap then.
It seems like the right thing to do.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Me and my girl....George blogs again

If you have missed me lately, I apologize.  If you are wondering who I am, I apologize.  Mom is kinda bad about keeping me in the public eye.  Breaks my heart really.  How busy must that woman be?  I swear, the extra things she takes on.
Yet, somehow I'm still in very sore need of a bath.  As is the Rodster.
Dude smells.

That is all I have to say on the matter because anything else would be rude, and I'm a gentleman first and foremost.

Speaking of my gentlemanly charm....We have a new lady in the camp.
Meet Cali.

Love of my life, and keeper of my heart key.  At least I think she has it.  I should probably check. Girl can be kinda batty at times.
But, darn if that isn't one of her most endearing qualities.
Next to those soulful eyes, and that smile she has.
It all sort of makes up for her obsession with squirrels, and her passion for midnight barking.

And, because I'm a gentleman, I try to go with her on her midnight rounds.
We circle the entire yard, stopping at each corner to bark incessantly.  Sometimes I just lie down next to her while she barks.  I figure that my main job is primarily to be there for moral support.  Show her that I'm interested in her and her interests.  That sort of thing.
No need for both of us to howl at the moon, or the next door cat.  We all have our passions.
Mine just lean more towards sedentary things, like naps.

But, that's my girl.  She barks the yard over every night until Mom or Dad start tapping on the window.  At which point she will run over to them and smile her biggest smile.  I think she smiles at them because she can sense that they aren't happy for some reason, and she knows her smile will cheer them up.
It doesn't always seem to work though, because Mom and Dad don't usually smile during barking hour.
That's when the kid comes out and explains to Cali that barking hour has ended and that it is time to go to bed.  At which point she runs happily over to her doghouse so she can have her collar attached to the chain.

I have to say that if you asked me to name one thing about my girl that I don't understand, it would be her love for that crazy chain.
She gets so excited every night when it is time to be hooked up to the chain, that some nights she even sits next to the chain and hollers until the kid comes out to set it up.
Personally, I think the chain has become a bit of a security blanket for her, but who am I to put my nose where it doesn't belong.
If that is what she needs to sleep peacefully, more power to her.  I'm content with lying next to her.  Or if she is in the mood for solitude, I sleep nearby under the swing.
Close enough to hear her breathing, but far enough away that she can pretend I don't exist.  In case she ever wanted to.
Not that she would ever want to pretend that.

We're bosom buddies, she and I.  Heart mates.  Best friends.  Lovers of each others souls, and all that jazz.

Just gotta check on that key....
Make sure she hasn't misplaced it, love her heart.