The Turtle

She stared at me with her great big eyes, and then it stared at me, too.  With a rope between them, I wondered who had hold of whom?   All these years I had seen only an angel dragging a turtle along, but today... well, today I saw something different:  the angel isn't the patient one.  It is the turtle that is the patient one, and he's the one with the rope around his neck.  He's roped to that cute little lady, and he patiently goes along with "whatever".  Oh, my!  What he has to put up with would astound you and crack the shell on your back:   if you had one!

So today, I am pondering what I do to others, the ones that are tied to me.  I'm not so sure it's a pretty picture, but what is beautiful is their patience.  Blessed... I am so blessed.

Patience: the will or ability to wait or endure without complaint.
                a spiritual gift,  fruit of The Spirit

^"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,  gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law."
                                  ~  Holy Bible, Galatians 5:22-23, New International Version

Walking, Standing Together

@Copyright 2011, 2012 Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Today's Lunch...

Today's lunch...Courage!

One bite at a time...
that is how you eat a sandwich. That's how you eat an elephant. But what about the monsters?  Do you eat them too?

I heard of one mother's solution for monsters.  She filled a mist spray bottle with water and fragrance.  At bedtime when the monsters hid under her child's bed, she pulled out the monster spray.  She allowed the child to lightly spray under and around the bed, and magically the monsters disappeared.  The action gave satisfaction to the child.  Safety and security were just poofs away:  sanctuary within the child's power.

But, what about us grown-ups?  How do we deal with the monsters?

Roast Beast?  No.  Roast Beef.  Yes.  And.... leftover roast beef sandwich!  So tasty.  So good.  So comforting.  After cutting my sandwich, I realized that I had cut it just the way my Mama did when I was a little girl.  I can't imagine how many sandwiches she made when my brother & I were growing up, but she always cut them into four squares.  The toast, the roast, the mustard, Miracle Whip, ketchup and pickle... all good stuff.  But, the best of all is what I now remember... the love.  Thank you, Mama.

And that is how we deal with the monsters:  LOVE.

"For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life,
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature,
shall be able to separate us from the love of God,
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

~Holy Bible, Romans 8:38-39

........................................................

Mama Lou's Pot Roast

Salt & Pepper 3-4 lb beef roast.  Dredge in flour.  Sear all sides of roast in bacon grease (hot oil if you're steering away from pork fat) until crispy brown.  (High heat. Caution:  it splatters!)

Mix together in crock pot:

1 can Campbell's French Onion Soup
1 1/2 cans water
2 Tablespoons B-B-Q sauce
1 teaspoon Kitchen Bouquet (Sold in grocery stores beside the Worcestershire sauce.)

Gently place seared meat in crock pot with fatty side on top.  Spoon soup mixture over the roast so that some of the onions are on top of the meat.  Cover with lid.  Cook on high for 2 hours.  Rotate meat, fatty side down.  Cook for one hour.  Rotate meat again... turn crock pot down to low and simmer for one more hour or until done.

Pull roast from pot and place on cutting board.  Remove any layers of fat.  Cover with foil.  Cool for 10 minutes before cutting or shredding.  After cutting/shredding, drizzle pan juices over the meat to prevent drying out.  Cover with foil until time to serve.

My favorite pot roast pot!  From the 1980's.

@Copyright 2014, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Thanksgiving Again

The following story I originally posted three years ago, but it still stands true this Thanksgiving Season.  When I wrote it, my life was simpler.  It was easy to take my own advice.  But now that I am a worn-out care-giver for an elderly parent, and a giddy grandmother of a gorgeous two year-old grand daughter, my stretched emotions blur the "urgent" and the "important".  My confusion bothers me, and this tug-of-war is constant.  How does one balance the two extremes?

It was good for me to read this today.  Perhaps it will help you, too...
Cindy Lou, November 20, 2013


Today is Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, and as I awakened food was on my mind:  ham, turkey & dressing, gravy, vegetables, cranberry sauce, pies, and desserts.  As I dressed for the morning, I kept thinking about all the food that would be here at the house tomorrow, wondering if we had enough, but I knew I had to turn my thoughts elsewhere.  I had to quit thinking about food and focus on my job, but even as I drove past the local Walgreen's Drug Store, their electronic sign flashed "Krispy Kreme donuts available here!"   More food to think about, but it had to be tabled and pushed to the back of my thoughts until after the 11:00 o'clock funeral service.

Friends and family were gathering at the church to celebrate a loved one's life, and I was to be there early to play the piano for the service.  The dear departed soul was unknown to me.  We had not been friends;  but after hearing about him, I wish we had been.  Mr. J (that's what I'll call him) was a World War II Veteran who had been stationed in Guam.  Pictures were shown of him and his sweetheart as they held each other closely, and pictures of their following sixty-two years together flashed onscreen before us.  We saw weddings, new babies, anniversaries, and more new babies, dinners, parties, and then even more new babies.  It was a love story for sure, and the pictures revealed a vibrant personality plus strong dedication to family, friends, and of all things... chickens.

Mr. J liked chickens.  Now, I have to admit, that I, too, like chickens.  Some of my fondest memories as a child are with my neighbor, Mr. Beal and his chickens.  He would let me fill the water bottle and turn it upside down (that's what you do with chicken's watering systems), and sometimes he allowed me to feed the chickens.  And, as baby chicks hatched, I could watch the miracle happen, and then when the chicks were all fluffy, he would let me love on them and squeeze them... but, not too tightly for fear of crushing them.

Some of the grand kids at today's service told their stories of helping their Grandad with his chickens, feeding and watering them, and I certainly identified with them and their love for the man that introduced them to a new, feathery world.  They lovingly and admirably told of experiences they had shared with their Grandad, and it was obvious to me, an outsider, that Mr. J had left a big part of himself inside each grandchild, and that what he believed in will be carried on and will be lived through his children and their following generations.

Already touched by this man's legacy, I knew that this memorial service would stand out in my mind as one of those special ones.  As a musician, I play for many funeral services, and they all are dear.  However, some are much more memorable than others, and this one definitely fits into that category.  This one was sweet, tender and loving, and one I hope I will always remember.  In my heart I thanked the Lord that I could be there and be a part of this circle of family and friends, and I thought the best had already been shared, until the last grandchild spoke and told this simple story, one that centers around, you got it... food.

When she was a small girl, and a  member of the Brownie troop, she sang the Brownie song to her Grandad.  He asked her if she knew the last verse to the song, and she didn't, so with a twinkle in his eye, he sang it to her.  She shared it with her troop leader who also had never heard that verse and taught the last verse to all the girls.  They all loved it, but somehow throughout the years, the memory has faded, and now, years later, the granddaughter can't remember the tune or the words to the Brownie song.  That memory is gone, but  she can still remember the main thing about that verse, the last line that her Grandaddy taught her. 

It's a profound statement; very plain and simple, and I thought about it all the way back home as I drove past the post office, the school, and the Walgreen's with its "Krispy Kreme" sign still flashing.  I thought about my life, and what I'm doing with it, and what I'm not doing with it.  It made me wonder about my priorities, and what really is important to me, and with it being the Thanksgiving season, it caused me to consider my gratitude.  Am I really aware of my amazing, abundant, incredible blessings?  Do I have a clue as to how blessed I really am?  And, then... am I thankful for them?  Truly thankful?  Or, have I slidden into the trench of  ingratitude and dug my ruts so deeply that I'll never see more than my own selfishness, my own greediness?  I pray that's not the case, not my future.  Heavens, I pray not so.

I tell you, friends, even though I was at a funeral today, today was a good day for me.  I enjoyed remembering my childhood friend, and I was blessed to find new ones.  My eyes were opened as a new friend's closed eyes helped me see something about myself.  It's not a pretty picture, the glimpse I saw of me, and it isn't one I'm proud of.  But, it is one that can be changed.  Starting right now, I will pay more attention to, I will be more aware of, and I will be more grateful for all that I have and for what God has given me.  I will focus more on what I have, and focus less on what I don't have... or as she told us today, just as her grandaddy, Mr. J once told her, his precious little granddaughter, and as I am now telling you...
"focus on the donut, not the hole."

Sincerely looking for ways to express my gratitude,
and ways to stay focused,

Cindy Lou

p.s.  Thanksgiving is more than just a day, isn't it?




@ Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved.

@Copyright 2011, 2012, 2013 Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

The Turtle

She stared at me with her great big eyes, and then it stared at me, too.  With a rope between them, I wondered who had hold of whom?   All these years I had seen only an angel dragging a turtle along, but today... well, today I saw something different:  the angel isn't the patient one.  It is the turtle that is the patient one, and he's the one with the rope around his neck.  He's roped to that cute little lady, and he patiently goes along with "whatever".  Oh, my!  What he has to put up with would astound you and crack the shell on your back:   if you had one!

So today, I am pondering what I do to others, the ones that are tied to me.  I'm not so sure it's a pretty picture, but what is beautiful is their patience.  Blessed... I am so blessed.

Patience: the will or ability to wait or endure without complaint.
                a spiritual gift,  fruit of The Spirit

^"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,  gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law."
                                  ~  Holy Bible, Galatians 5:22-23, New International Version

Walking, Standing Together

@Copyright 2011, 2012 Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

If Only...

If only...

If only I had time to see,
if  time would wait for me,
then I would, I'm sure
give glory to the Giver.
Give praise for what I see.
Give thanks for all that's given,
but deadlines beckon me.

If only I would stop and listen,
take time so I could hear.
If only life would wait for me,
then I would, I'm sure,
listen to the music
that The Giver has given me.

But friends and family beckon.
Urgent moments drain my all.
So how can I still listen?
Still hear?
How can I see?

For this I should be grateful.
For all I should give praise.
I must take pause,
be still because,
What if...
God hadn't given to me?


Someone once said that the hard times define us, destroy us, or strengthen us.  Think I'll choose two out of those three:  define & strengthen, even though some days I wobble on the brink of disaster.

For me, the brink is built upon exhaustion:  physical and emotional.  For some reason the two go hand in hand, and they dare to pull each other over the edge.   But, like I said, I will choose to be defined or strengthened... not destroyed, for once destroyed, I cannot go back and try again.

Someone once said, "when you fall out of the saddle, climb back on it."  So, I do.  And, I have.  And now I ask just how many MORE times do I have to do that?  The answer is, of course... every time.  Every bloomin', every stinkin', every cotton-pickin' time!

Alas, if only I were "perfect".  If only I could enjoy all the "saddle rides", and if only I could enjoy the view from the "edge of brink".  Seems to me that these "if only's" are mere excuses for not doing what should be done.  They waste time.  They waste energy.  And they consume a part of me that is needed elsewhere.

So, I shall cease balking.  I shall quit procrastinating.  I shall stop whining.  I shall, and I will.  I will because it's all so much easier to handle when I take time, when I make time to be still... and to know God.

King David once wrote, "Commit your way to the Lord;  trust in him and he will do this:  He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.  Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him."  --Psalm 37:5-7

This is the way I look at it:  since this was the answer for King David, a mighty warrior and successful leader of tens of thousands, then why shouldn't it be the answer for me, a mere saddle-sore woman???  It's something to think about, for certain.

As I sign off and leave my desk, I go to get defined or strengthened, to find the music, to enjoy the view, and... just to be still, very, very still.

Thank you, God... for all you have given.

Sincerely,

Cindy Lou



@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

September

September

Temperatures drop.
Tempers cool.
Dust rides the breeze.
Summer's scorn still scorches
Earth, lakes...memories.

Grasslands beg for mercy.
Sun-dried soil's too dry to weep.
But, I believe in Texas
September does not sleep.

Press on, my state of Texas.
Oh, bend your stubborn knees.
Seek him who sends September...
Seek him who never sleeps.

Oh, long, long sought September...
Send rain, stop drought,
Break heat.
Oh, God, who sends September...
Restore, remember... me.
             --Cindy Lou Hodges

                          
One of the worst droughts in history is plaguing  my home state of Texas.  Record heat waves of temperatures 100 degrees or higher wreck havoc upon health, agriculture and ranching industries.  For nature, there is no escape from the sweltering heat, other than rain... blessed rain.  Let us return to our roots of faith, as we fall down in prayer and humbly ask God to send us rain... sweet, blessed rain.  

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!  Blessed be the name of the Lord...!

    
                 
                        __________________________________________

                                            SCRIPTURE REFRENCES

"Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed.  The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.  Elias was a man subject to like passions as we are, and he prayed earnestly that it might not rain:  and it rained not on the earth by the space of three years and six months.  And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit."
--Holy Bible, James 5:16-18

"For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers:  but the face of the Lord is against them that do evil."
--Holy Bible, I Peter 3:12

"And I say unto you, Ask and it shall be given you;  seek and ye shall find;  knock, and it shall be opened unto you."  --Holy Bible, Luke 11:9

                        __________________________________________


@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Rain

Rain

Long awaited,

longed for

rain.

Heaven's teardrops that we prayed

not sooner, not harder,

not longer for...

long awaited,

longed for

rain.

--Cindy Lou Hodges

Our state of Texas is suffering from one of the worst droughts in history.  Finally, it rained today.

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow...!"

@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Pink Plastic Plates

"You begin to move mountains when you start carrying away small stones."

                                                  -  Doris A. Dillon, Randleman, North Carolina

What I call the "Pink" plate!

I think she was talking about my kitchen counter.  Have you seen my bar lately?  Of course not.  You can't possibly see it because of all the clutter that's on top of it!  Yesterday I saw it as my mountain.  Today I see it as... well, shoot.  It's still my mountain... and a darn, BIG one!

Others might view it as a dumpster:  some, a treasure chest... still others, a laundry basket.  I don't dare drop clean underwear on it, but single black socks get dropped there all the time, waiting for the missing mates.  Eye glasses are supposed to be there, but I can never find a pair that has both lenses still intact.  Receipts, recipes, coupons... you name it... it's all there.  Library books sit there so long that they have to be returned before they are opened, and silk floral arrangements sit there until they sprout roots.

I did make progress this morning, though.  Yesterday my mother asked me about the pile of plates on the bar, and it embarrassed me that my mother hinted at what I should do.  So, when she makes it into the kitchen today, she will see that I have dealt with the issue, one at least.

The stack of 12 plastic melamine plates, the new ones from Target, is now a stack of eight.  I finally decided that I have not been able to decide what to do with them because I don't want to say goodbye to the four pink ones.  I like them.  They are really pretty, and, "No, I don't have anything else pink in my kitchen."  But, I like them... and after only three months, I realized that!  So, I jerked off the stickers, and now they are mine to keep.  The others... well, they are rather weird looking with their navy blue & white swirls, and I'm already sick of looking at them.  They make me dizzy.  I hope the store will take them back.  If not, maybe I can use them as a "Get Well" present for someone.  Maybe not.

Anyway, I have moved stones today:  stones disguised as dinnerware.  And... if I deal with the eight "weird"  plates, and return them to the store, and if I wash and put in the cupboard the four pink plates... then, I will have dealt with a dozen items... a dozen stones.  That's a pretty good number, don't you think?  And, a darn good accomplishment for a procrastinator who is really skilled at her profession.

Wonder if I could make a living at procrastinating... hmmm...  that would take some creative thinking, and I am good at that. But, I'll think about that a little bit later.  Right now,  I have eight plates to bag, four plastic plates to wash... the four pink, plastic ones...and stones hanging around my neck that are really bothering me. I think it's time to deal with them, and I really should do something about them.

Know anybody that needs a droopy silk floral arrangement?
Seen any extra black socks?
Even one?

Changing the world, one stone at a time...
Cindy Lou



p.s.  Thank you, Lord, that I have the time to sit and think about such little things.  Direct me towards your purpose today, and help me sort through the issues that matter and those that don't.  Direct my feet, direct my actions, and fill my heart with your goodness so that what I "dish out" today will be filled with your love.  I want to do better... really, I do, but I can't do it by myself.  Thank you, Jesus... Amen.

@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

My Morning Prayer...

Morning calls as dove greet dawn.
I arise, not knowing what day may bring.
Aware I am
that I can choose
just how I shall join in
with family, friends, with tasks, and toil
for I am alive....
let my day begin.

I can be a stumbling block,
a stump, a stick in the mud.

I can be a babbling brook.
Babbling I do well.

Perhaps the breeze is calling me
to join in its ballet...

Or fire, oh the mighty flame
devouring its prey...

Or light that shines,
illuminates,
presses darkness to its grave.

What life give I upon this day?
That's for me to say.

--Cindy Lou Hodges

Heavenly Father, only you can provide what I need today, and I praise you for your mercy and goodness.  Thank you, Lord, for lifting me, once again.  May I do the same for others and do it with a cheerful heart.

Sincerely me...
Cindy Lou

@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

"Stuck"

Where I sit today is a very cozy place to be.  I'm warm.  I'm safe.  I'm not being forced to labor, nor am I being forced to act like someone I'm not.  As a matter of thought, what force there is around me is one that comes from within, not from external sources.  When it's just me, I'm not sure that's a good thing.

My internal drive seems to be in "park" and rather "stuck" in the same place that it's been for awhile.  I feel like an old car that can't make it up the hill and my owner crammed scotch blocks behind my wheels to keep me from rolling backwards, careening down into some deep, dark crevice.  I can't get up enough steam to go forward, but I have dug in my heels so that I won't go backwards.  I am determined to not go there.

So, it's either "here, to stay" or "move forward" or "move sideways".  Sounds like some kind of dance, doesn't it?  Yes, come to think of it, that is exactly what it is.  It's life's dance, and I can sit it out, or I can join the party.

But, where I sit today is a very cozy place.  I'm warm.  I'm safe.  I have much to be thankful for, much to do, yet this twinge of unhappiness and dissatisfaction weigh me down like lead in my dancing shoes.  Like I said, when it's just me, I'm not sure that's a good thing.

Guess we all have days like this, especially when for several days the sun has hidden behind the clouds.  Guess we can't always be who we want to be.  Guess that's normal.  The fact is:  I need a friend today, and maybe, just maybe... that friend will ask me to dance, and together we'll make it up that hill.

Waiting for the sun to shine; believing it will,
Just a little blue for right now...
Cindy Lou

"Draw nigh to God, and He will draw nigh to you.  Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He shall lift you up."  ...Holy Bible, James 4: 8, 10

"Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need."  ...Holy Bible, Hebrews 4:16

p.s.  I'm gonna' need these...

@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

The Daddy Bear Hug

Written three years ago, but it seems like yesterday...

 I sit on the bench, a lot, and I have a bird's eye view of people.  They don't know that I'm observing them, and sometimes I'm not even aware of it myself.  But, this particular instance gripped my heart and still pulls on my heart strings, and I feel compelled to share it with you.

Saturday morning's dress rehearsal called in the entire cast:  orchestra, choir, drama team, media team, and even the children's choir.  We all felt the excitement of the next day's performances.  Christmas music filled the sanctuary as it flowed through our fingers, through our voices, and from our hearts, and I felt extremely good about the music because this year I was prepared.  Or, so I thought.

Rehearsed and ready to go, I listened as our director called for the opening orchestral prelude.  Oh, my gosh... I had forgotten all about that one!!!  I had all the choir's music on my agenda, but had totally forgotten about anything and everything else, including the prelude.  When I looked at the score, I knew I was in big trouble, and that this was not a piece I could jump in and successfully sight read.  Even with a week's rehearsal, my fingers still might not be able to move as quickly as the tempo required, so I swallowed hard and tried not to panic or fall off the bench as the director began the downbeat.

It's a sinking feeling when you realize you are about to be exposed... when your mistakes are made public, and all those around you see your inadequacies and your faults.  No one likes to stumble-fumble, especially in front of an audience, and it surely hurts our pride when we do.  But, that's what happened to me.


The orchestra played through it once, then our director gave the call to play it again.  So, I fell flat on my face twice. I was so embarrassed, and extremely mad at myself for my blunder, and I couldn't blame anyone else for this mistake, ah, these mistakes.  This was my fault.  It was one of those moments where you feel like a little kid again, a kid at school who hasn't done her homework.  You know that feeling of when your head droops, and your shoulders drag the ground, and you wish you could crawl under the bed with a bag of cookies.  I felt terribly low and needed a hug or a good cry!  But, instead, I promised my "patient" musical director that I would know it by "tomorrow", and he smiled.  Thank heavens he's a trusting soul!

Things improved from then on, I'm so glad to say, and there were no outstanding glitches in the music.  My feelings of "rattledness" and low self-esteem began to fade away as the music flowed and lifted us all to a "higher" place.  The choir in the loft sang boldly and beautifully, and the celebration of our Lord's birth was proclaimed through the many talents present in the room.  All was well, once again.  

When it was time for the children to come onstage, they enthusiastically jumped up and scrambled up the stairs to their proper places.  One of our pretty girls tripped on the last two steps and did sort of a butterfly flittering with her arms & legs:  quite graceful, actually, for a stumble.  It wasn't that noticeable until she began her giggling and landed with a sort of unexpected "thud".  She handled it very well.  She landed upright, and nothing was injured, thank goodness.  Everything was intact; nothing hurt, except her pride.

Ah, I knew that feeling all too well for I, also, had landed upright, but with wounded pride.  She and I were now kindred spirits, and my heart ached for her.  I knew exactly how she felt, and I wanted to tell her "there, there now... it's okay", but I didn't need to because someone else thought of it before I did; someone even more appropriate than I.  Her daddy was in the orchestra, and he saw it all unfold.  That man didn't miss a beat!  As her giggling continued, he jumped up from his chair and hurried  over to her and gave her one huge bear hug!  He patted her lovingly on the shoulders and whispered something secretly in her ear. Then her daddy walked back to his assigned place in the orchestra and resumed his playing, while she joined in with her choir as if nothing had ever happened.

But something had happened.  Something magical had just occurred, and I witnessed it firsthand.  Her smile told more than she realized, and I breathed a sigh of relief for her. With that one unselfish act of kindness, love had filled the room, and there was so much of it that even I, way over on the piano bench, felt loved.   Wow... it was a powerful experience!  It was precious to watch, and it was a perfect picture of why we were there and of what we were all celebrating.

It's all about a father's love:  the Christmas season.  Isn't it?  We all need it so desperately, and God our Father gives it abundantly to all who receive Him.  We all stumble in our own ways... our pretty young lady, me, you, all of us... and there's nothing sweeter than love picking us back up and wrapping its arms around us and hearing it lovingly say, "there, there now... I love you, baby.  It's okay, and everything's gonna be alright".
 
Mmmm... that's a mighty good feeling, and one I wish for all of us, whether we deserve it, or not. They say that love isn't love until we give it away.  So, since this is the Christmas Season, let's find someone who needs a good ol' bear hug, and let's go out there together and share the Good News. There is a world out there who is hungry for someone to love them, and there is a Someone who does.  His name is Jesus.

Christ is born, and He shall reign forever, and ever!
 
May God bless us, one and all today... and because we stumble, may we all keep a firm grip on our loving Father's hand.

Sincerely,
Cindy Lou

 ³⁰And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God.
 ³¹And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name JESUS.
 ³²He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David:
 ³³And he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end.
                                    ----Luke 1:30-33  New International Version Bible

                                                

@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

The Daydream

I was so involved with my daydream that I missed my mouth with my coffee cup.  Surprising?  Not at all.

The imagery was spectacular, and the band was in the grove, uh groove.  There I stood with the microphone, not one ounce of fear piercing through my body.  All eyes were glued to this magical moment:  all ears tuned to the soft nuances that would soon flow from my soul.  No one knew this was the moment I had longed for.  No one knew the expense of this adventure.  No one knew.  No one cared.  No one, but I.

Spotlight intact.  Curtain up.  Applause filled the air with the echo of triumph.  Taking in one last breath, I opened my mouth to sing, and right there, in the middle of my daydream... was the sound of fire alarms and clanging bells!  Uh... no:  it was the telephone.  The audacious, stupid phone was screeching right in the middle of my once in a lifetime "moment".

So, there went the coffee all down my shirt.  There went the daydream:  there went the diva.  I felt like Ralphie, the little kid in the movie, The Christmas Story.  Spectacular were his daydreams that spinned with unbridled enthusiasm!  They out shined the grandest of schemes, and in this world of doubt, they kept his fragile, creative spirit alive.  No one knew about his secret scenarios.  No one knew about them at all, and no one cared.  Or, so he thought.

I guess, inside all of us dwells either a diva or a Ralphie, and somewhere along the way we picked up the notion that the child in us should grow up and throw aside our childish ways replacing them with grown-up thoughts and grown-up behavior.   (Oh, that's in the Bible.  Isn't it?  It's in I Corinthians 13:11.)  That's what is required of us as responsible adults, but I can see a meltdown coming if the child within is forgotten and never released to play, to create, or to daydream.

I don't know about you, but I am planning on longevity here in my life.  My long awaited first grandchild will soon be born, and I want to be around to see her coo & giggle, to see her take her first tiny steps, and to see her twist and turn as she masters her first pair of high heel shoes.  I would love to be around for her wedding day as she lovingly takes those solemn steps of marriage.  And when I arrive at those later stages of my life, I don't want to be a dried-up, old prude who doesn't know how to laugh, or sing, play, or daydream.  I want to be young at heart, and laugh at the days ahead... the days present. 

That sounds like quite a challenge, because aging can be terribly cruel.  Injuries and insults assault us, and time marches on without our permission.   As my Aunt Polly used to say, and now my mother says, "Aging ain't for sissies!"  Yes, I have to agree, it isn't.  Neither is daydreaming.  It takes a lot of courage for grown-ups to dream like a child, and even more courage, I think, to admit that we do.

They say that confession is good for the soul, so here you have it:  I confess.   I daydreamed, and it didn't cost me anything other than the time to wash my coffee-stained blouse.  That was just a few, well spent minutes, and I think that little snippet of time added new wonderment to my child-like faith.

What about you?  Have you daydreamed lately?  It isn't painful, and the child in you just might thank you for the freedom.  Dance, sing, build bridges, climb mountain cliffs, paint like Rembrandt, design fashions, write a best-seller novel, discover a cure for cancer, find a forgotten city, go to the zoo, go watch a baseball game, or imagine your flower beds a botanical wonder.  Be creative... there are no limitations when we daydream, and without our permission, no one can take our dreams away from us.

Because they are precious, we must protect our dreams, and we are instructed to guard them continually.  They can be a gift or a burden, so we are to use them wisely.  We should even pray about them, asking God what they should be and asking God to direct our thoughts and take them where He wants us to be.   Can't say that I remembered to do that before my "diva dream", but I should have.  For I have found that heavenly daydreams are the sweetest of all and the longest lasting.

Take heart, my friends.  There is hope for all of us!  With my grown up knowledge and my child-like faith, I face the future; and you can face it with me.  We may be fortunate enough to daydream a brighter future, and we may even be fortunate enough to find ourselves basking in the spotlight as we stand in front of cheering crowds.  Or, we may find ourselves flat on our backs facing the frightening sounds of emergency sirens.  No one can accurately predict what awaits us, but I do know that we don't have to face those times alone.  There is Someone who cares.... Someone who knows.  And, I would like to know Him better.

Think I'll grab my Bible, turn off the telephone, and ask God to fill me with His love and even more child-like faith.  It can happen, you know... and that doesn't have to be a daydream!

Blessings to you as you rediscover the child within you.  Guard it.  Protect it.  Nurture it.  And, then, give it a friend by the name of Jesus.

Sincerely,
Cindy Lou



"For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he..."
--Proverbs 23:7  King James Version, Holy Bible

"I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."
--Luke 18:17, New International Version, Holy Bible

"...there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother."
--Proverbs 18:24, New International Version, Holy Bible



@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved

Another Day

Another day, my soul awakes,
'Tis listening to the dawn.
What power, oh, ye morning has
to bid the evening gone.

Oh, daybreak, if you only knew
the might your light does cast.
It calls to me.  It beckons me,
for darkness now is past.

Rejoice my soul!  Awaken sleep!
The slumber now is done.
Glad tidings tell.  The light prevails.
The Son the vict'ry won!
                       --Cindy Lou Hodges

Sounds like an old hymn, doesn't it, with the "'tis's" and the "ye's"?  Guess so, and rightly so because today my body feels very, very old.  Actually, today this earthly body feels quite ancient, kind of like an old rusty farm tractor:  one which is missing a few cylinders, a lot of paint, and has been put out to pasture.  (I know of what I speak, because I learned to drive and operate a standard gear shift on one of those old, faded farm tractors.... about two hundred years ago!)

But, the good news is my soul is alive and feels young.  And that's a bea-u-ti-ful feeling:  one that can be shared and given away to everyone regardless of age, race, gender, or economic status!  So, join with me in this transformation as my soul encourages the body to rise & shine.  For indeed, there is a reason to do so... there is a Savior and He has conquered the night!  Arise!  Shine!  For the light has come!

As the little old farm tractor used to say...
"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...."

Sincerely clutching to the truth (pardon my pun),
Cindy Lou


"When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, 'I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.'"  John 8:12, Holy Bible, New International Version (NIV)



@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved.

Baby Girl Pink

"Yesterday I dug in the freezer. Today I think I'll dig in the dirt. Seems to me that planting spring bulbs would be a most fitting way to celebrate the new life that's coming to our family in December..."
                                    ---posted on Face Book, October 21, 2010


In my mind I envisioned pink!  Pure, pretty, "pop your eyes out" pink flowers strewn all across my back yard's flower bed.  I wasn't thinking a muddy pink, or a lavender pink, or a peachy pink.  I wanted "sweet baby girl pink", and I wanted lots & lots of them... a wheelbarrow full of blossoms.

The first garden center I visited had two displays of bulbs which included tulips, hyacinths, daffodils and the girliest, frilliest irises I've ever seen.  By golly, that was the flower I wanted, and there was no reason to drive elsewhere to shop;  except that, there was only one package.  And it contained only two bulbs:  so much for my idea of a wheelbarrow full.  I drove to the other garden store, hoping I could find other choices, but, that was a waste of time since they had no flower bulbs at all.  Theirs are shipped in the spring.

Not to be defeated about my idea of planting today, I drove back to that solitary package of two bulbs, and I purchased it.  Took a picture of the cover on the package, so I can remember what it's supposed to look like, then grabbed the garden spade and started digging.  In no time at all, those two scrawny iris bulbs were planted deeply in the warm earth, safe and secure in my back yard. 

Have to say that I feel good about the day.  I got my mission accomplished.  Got lots of mosquito bites, too, but it's all worth the effort because I believe those puny, palm-size bulbs will produce exactly what the picture claims.  When they do and the pink frilly blossoms are a'bloom, my grand baby will be three or four months old.  I will lovingly carry her out to the back flower bed and show her what her Grammy planted in honor of her arrival.  I believe that year after year, these irises will continue to grow in numbers and beauty and continue the cycle of life.  As my grand daughter grows, I shall remind her how much she is loved and how much she was wanted, even before she was born.  Then as she matures, and becomes a young flower herself,  I can use the story of the iris to teach her about love, and the sanctity of marriage, and how with every cycle of life there is a rhyme and a reason for its time and its season.

That's a lot to expect from my plantings today:  those two pitiful looking bulbs.  But, when one has faith, nothing is impossible.... not even a wheelbarrow full of pretty, frilly, "pop your eyes out" pink blossoms!

Here's hoping.  Here's believing.  And here's thanks to all the women who have walked before me... bouquets to you, my lovelies!  And for those of you who are still walking, we might as well walk together, joined arm in arm... in faith.  It's more fun that way, and besides, I'd love some company!

Sincerely looking forward to the future,
Cindy Lou

p.s.  I'm thinking pink!

"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.  And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.  Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another... and all the more as you see the Day approaching."
          --Hebrews 10:23-25 Holy Bible, New International Version



@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved.

Sand, Stone

"Write your sorrows in sand...
Write your blessings in stone."

The above message hangs on the store's wall, and I saw it just this morning.  It's a small plaque that isn't for sale.  It's there for decoration and inspiration to the clients that pass through.  The more I thought about it the more profound it became to me, and I knew I should share it with you.

If I were to actually do this, I would need a world of stone and just a tiny, tiny seashore.  For one of the many results of prayer to God Almighty, is that He eases our sorrows.  Just like messages written in the sand, as we pray our sorrows become less visible, and our blessings become more apparent.    While we lose sight of one, we gain sight of the other.  One is softened:  eventually erased... the other revealed.

Looking at my blessings right now, I'd say they are like grains of sand on the seashore.  There are too many to number, and it would take more than a lifetime to do so.  But, I shall say the very first entry on my "blessings" list, because it is the most amazing blessing of all, is the fact that I am loved.  I may not carve it in stone, and I may never again make it to the seashore, but I am here right now, and I shall take this opportunity to write it and to tell you.... I am loved, and so are you!

Counting my blessings,
Cindy Lou



"But God demonstrates His own love for us in this:  While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  --Romans 5:8, Holy Bible, New International Version (NIV)

"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."  John 15:13, Holy Bible, NIV

@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved.

I Am a Tree

"I am a tree.
My roots grow deep.
I'm planted by The River... The River of Life.
Hosanna's in the wind.
Hosanna's in the rain.
Hosanna's in the air I breathe.
My life He does sustain."
                                   --Cindy Lou Hodges


For months this song was my mantra:  not a happy tune, but a mournful confirmation that I could weather the storm that raged around me.  I sang it to myself while she lay in the hospital flat on her back.  I murmured it as she vacillated from one surgery to the next, from critical condition to serious condition, then agonizingly back to critical.  I remembered it as she lingered near death from staff infections, and it was one of the songs I sang as I crossed the state line commuting back & forth from my home to her multiple care facilities.  It was on my lips as my own personal lullaby at three o'clock in the mornings, and at times it boomed out of me as a defense against the enemy of hopelessness.  As she was fighting for life:  I was fighting for hope... enough for both of us.

That seems like just yesterday, and that yesterday seemed like an eternity.  Only God knows how distraught we all were, and how close we were to quitting.  On the inside I struggled for sanity, while on the outside I struggled for courage.  Taking each step required stepping out in faith and numerous reminders to myself that I could do it... one step at a time.

Whenever setbacks & disappointments knocked the wind out of me, the vision of a mighty tree came to mind, and I imagined my feet sinking deeper and deeper into the solid ground.  I imagined my care giving as an oasis such as the top of a tree is sanctuary for living creatures.  When I felt the world dumping on me, as certain animals seek out trees to mark their territory, I realized that that was just part of being alive... part of being a tree. It would not destroy me, and it might even make me stronger. Time & time again, I would once more try to rise to the task awaiting me.  One more time to encourage myself.  One more time to believe... "I am a tree... my roots go deep.  I'm planted by The River".

Only God knows how... but, here we are, one year after the fall & initial broken hip.  We are home at her house... together, and life is different now.  It is sweeter, and it is easier than it has been. The infections are suppressed.  The surgeries are over.  The hospital bed no longer cradles her immobile, tortured body, and the parade of caregivers has calmed down to a slow, steady pace of two a week.  Sleep has returned once again, and this "welcomed back" friend allows me to sleep through the earlier known three o'clock awakenings.  I even dream again, and instead of fear and darkness, my dreams take me to happy places.

Yes, life is more precious to me now.  Today I saw bluebirds out the kitchen window, and I called Mama to come look.  She struggled to get out of her wheelchair so that she could see the birds flying from the oak tree to the blue bird houses.  Those beautiful blue feathered friends were scouting out the perfect place for their autumn nests:  the perfect place to lay their tiny blue eggs.  That made her smile.  Made us both smile.

Then later, as I finished showering, I heard talking coming from somewhere in the house.  I couldn't distinguish who or what it was, so I opened the bathroom door to better hear.  "Who was she talking to?  Was she watching TV?"  Then I heard... it was singing:  one of the lovliest sounds I have ever heard.  With a voice as clear as a songbird, and with the steadiness of a flowing river, my Mama, Ms. Dimple was singing once again.  It wasn't a song of mourning.  It wasn't a cry for help.  It was a simple song of joy, unintended for my ears to hear.  But, I did, and I'm so glad.  I'm not sure who enjoyed it more:  her, God, or me.  But, it was one of those heavenly moments when all nature is in perfect harmony, and everything in the world seems all right.  It was music to my ears... sweet, wonderful music!

Like I said... life is sweeter now... for her, for me... for all of us!
"I am a tree... my roots grow deep."
God is my strength.
Of that, I am sure.

Cindy Lou


"Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.  But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.  And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper."  ---Psalm 1:1-3  Holy Bible, King James Version

@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved

Boot Camp

Today he leaves for boot camp.  Yesterday he played the acoustic bass in church.  Tomorrow... who knows?  That's yet to be revealed.

I've known him for just about two years now.  Our paths crossed at church where we both play in the orchestra, and for most of that time he has been the only string player in the band.  He has been faithful to be there Wednesday nights for rehearsals and Sunday mornings for worship services.  What surprises me about his steadiness is that he is a single young man who could find many other ways to spend his time and many other places to be.  However, he chooses to be at church.

But now, he won't be, and we will miss him.  Will miss his smile, his music, his gentle presence, and his testimony.  We shall continue to think about him and lift him up in prayer, his mama, too.  It must be hard seeing your child choose to walk away from the security of home, family, and friends into the vices of the military.  I don't know first hand what that's like, but I do remember how hard it was just to leave my son on his own at college.  It is so hard turning loose.  We moms & dads tend to panic and ask ourselves, "Did we do our jobs as parents?  Did we do it right, and did we do it well?  Did we love them enough, and did we teach them all that they need to know to survive out there?"

I personally don't know his parents & family very well, but just by association with this young man, I'd say they did a fine job raising their son, and he will make a fine soldier.  It seems to me his feet are firmly planted on the Solid Rock, and that's exactly what it takes to make it out there.  A firm foundation can weather the storm: be it military, civil, or private.

We will miss him: our light-haired, soft-spoken young friend.  While there will be a gap in the flow of music, there will be new steps in the marching corps.  When there will be murmurs in the congregational prayers for his safety, there will be shouts of command in the corporal ranks.  Where there is war, there will be prayers for peace.  He, our friend the soldier, is doing his part to make men free.  It is now our turn as a church and community to voice our petitions to heaven.  Pray for others.  Pray for our leaders.  Pray for peace, and pray for William.   

Blessings to you, my friend Private William... may God protect and keep you. Thank you for serving our country!  We will miss you until you come back and join us once again in the band.  You can wear your military uniform or your civilian clothes as you play... doesn't matter to us.  We just want you to hurry back home, today, tomorrow or several tomorrows from now.  Yes, hurry home, please... your music and your chair await you.

Sincerely your friend,
Cindy Lou



"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.  The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.  But eveyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand.  The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash."
                  ---Matthew 7:24-27   Holy Bible, New International Version

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."
                              ---John 3:16  Holy Bible, New International Version


@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved

She Said... He Said!

"I'd talk to the cat, if I had one.
I'd talk to the doggie, too.
I'd talk to the fish in the fishbowl.
I'd talk to the monkey in the zoo.
I'd squawk to the squirrel on the tree limb.
I'd squawk to the turkeys, it's true.
But, why should I squawk and tell them my talk,
when I... can talk... to you?"

"Because my dear,
You hurt my ear.
You babble what you say.
You think too much.
You speak too much.
You jabber everyday.
I'll buy the cat.
I'll buy the dog.
Or take you to the zoo.
To stop your squawk,
To stop your talk,
I'll do anything for you!"

"You will?"
"I will."
"Ahhh... 'Nough said."


Do you identify with either side of the above conversation?  If so, then you most likely have been in a long-term relationship or you currently are in one.  You probably don't speak with this sing-song type of language, but surely you do converse in some form or fashion.  The above couple worked out their differences in, shall we say... an amicable sort of way?  Well, maybe...

In his book, The Five Love Languages, author Dr.Gary Chapman explains different ways people express their love and different ways they want others to express their love to them.  It's a most helpful book about relationships of all kind:  husbands, wives, children, etc., and I highly recommend reading it.  It certainly opened my eyes about communication!  Dr. Chapman states that the five love languages are:

Love Language #1:  Words of Affirmation
Love Language #2:  Quality Time
Love Language #3:  Receiving Gifts
Love Language #4:  Acts of Service
Love Language #5:  Physical Touch

So, in your busy schedule, take time to read this book.  You can discover which language you speak, and if anyone around you speaks like you do.  Can you handle learning something new about yourself?  Is it time for us to learn an additional language, a new style of communicating, a new way of expressing love?  I think so, and I think the woman in the above illustration should go first... and she will, just as soon as she finishes, excuse me... just as soon as I finish.... squawking!


"Dear Lord, I am so focused on doing things my way.  Forgive me for my selfishness, and show me new ways to love the people I love.  Help me understand them.  Help me appreciate them.  And help me show them, in ways that they understand, that I love them .  Thank you, Jesus.  Amen."



@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All rights reserved.

Sit by Me...

"Cindy, I haven't seen you in such a long time," she said.  I replied, "I feel the same about you!  Where have you been?"  So there we stood talking, trying to catch up on each other's news, that is until the lights dimmed.  It was time for the concert to begin, and time to be seated.  If it had not been for my friend's encounter,  I probably would have left before the program began.  I would have left without hearing the music, and I would have left with a heart heavier than it was when I arrived.

For many reasons, it was hard to be there and even harder to stay; but since protocol requested my presence, there I stood.  Then, as the room grew silent, my friend and I looked at each other.  To my surprise out from my mouth came these words, "Where are you going to sit?"  She motioned "over there", and we both started walking in that direction.  Then some of the sweetest words I have ever heard were spoken just at the right time, from her to me, just for me, in a room that was so hushed I could hear every word... "Sit by me, won't you?"  So, I did, for the entire concert.  I enjoyed the evening... immensely, and I'm so glad I stayed.

Thinking back on the evening, I'm reminded of the scripture that tells us that God goes before us and prepares a place for us.  I believe that.  I believe because I saw that.  I saw it happen to me, just tonight, through a dear friend, in a mighty big way, in a mighty little sentence.

And, I also believe, that when I close the world around me, and all becomes hushed... I will hear it once again, this time spoken by another friend, my friend Jesus... "Cindy, I have much to tell you.  Come, sit by me, won't you?"  I hope I do.  I hope I will sit still, very, very still... and I hope I will listen.

Thank you, Lord, for your mercies, for your love, and for the friends you send my way.

Love,
Cindy

p.s.  Thank you for saving me a seat!



@Copyright, 2010 Cindy Lou Hodges, All rights reserved.

All This Stuff

Posted on Facebook September 11, 2010

 Ah, yes...Ms Betty Boop strikes again with a sassy blow of reality. From the looks of my overstuffed "stuff"...my motto has been the same... well, almost. I, too, have far too much. I, however, am the one who brought it in. So, take away the pretenses & take away the stuff, and I see that I'm guilty, just as bad as Betty Boop... only worse! Yikes! It's time to clean out the closets!!!!


Yards & yards of fabric bolted to the floor... literally!  As I swung open the armoire door the bolts of unused fabric fell to my feet, on my feet and almost toppled me over.  I'm talking full bolts of  fabric that I had collected for my house decorating projects.  Most of the fabric came from the $1 yard table, which is just almost unheard of any more, so you can understand why I purchased the full bolts.  What a bargain, and if I didn't buy it, someone else would!  That is a painful thought, indeed.  After all, I might need it someday. Yes, might.  Might not.  Might yet, but haven't yet.  And, that was five to ten years ago. 

Now the raw truth lay piled around me, and there was no denying that I have a problem, and the problem is much deeper than the spoilage at my feet.  I am a shopaholic.

There I said it, not out loud, but with a whisper.  It doesn't sound so badly that way, and it doesn't hurt my feelings quite so much.  But, the truth is that I'm good at what I do!  I recognize good buys.  I love pretty things.  And I see possibilities in most everything.  Bargains jump at me and beg to go home with me, and I can't resist.  It is a weakness of mine, and for the longest time (most of my life, actually) I considered it a strength that showed how creative I am.  But, today, I see that it's my downfall... pardon the pun.

All this "stuff" has to be dealt with.  It is time to clean out the closets, time to glean the fields, and time to start a new season.  And I believe I can do it.  I believe I can do it with as much gusto as I had while bringing it all in.  It's time to put on my big girl panties and grab the bags & boxes for all my treasures.  Just like there once was a time to buy, there is now a time to say bye-bye.  It's time to share the wealth and let someone else own the pretties.

"I want, I want, I want..." is in the back of my mind, yours too, I'm sure.  But, for me today the rest of that sentence is... "to be uncluttered, in my mind, in my house & in my soul".  I want a new start.  I do.  What about you?  What's in your way, and how would you finish the sentence, "I want, I want, I want...."?  Now it's your turn to fill in the blank.  You can say it out loud or you can just whisper it in my ear...


"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace."
                       ---Ecclesiastes 3:1



Scriptures from Holy Bible, King James Version
Devotional @Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges, All rights reserved!