How unsearchable and unfathomable are His ways...Rom 11:33
In Gigi’s Shoes
Faith, living, art...
Saturday, September 12, 2020
Confusion
After reading Oswald Chambers on September 12.
Life can certainly be confusing.
All the sudden we are surrounded by fog, swimming in murky waters. Which way is up, which way is down? Left or right? Is this the right choice? What if I'm hearing wrong or not hearing at all. Spiritual confusion can leave you gasping for air and drowning.
But then all those years of training, discipline, prayer, abiding in secret and trusting His hope is the anchor He promised, will become our sustenance, the air tank filled with faith, raw faith that can wait and wait until the exhilarating moment when the cloud of dust is finally lifted and -there He is!
Visible, clear like a blue cloudless sky.
Monday, September 7, 2020
Bubbly
Water, water...
I think of my life as a little bubbling spring always overflowing and overflowing turning into a crystal clear creek joyfully making its way down mountain crevices and running waterfalls, splashing over rock formations, joining other water sources as they continue a journey that will become this majestic river overflowing into the vast sea. A river filled with all the overflowing waters of true believers forever living in infinite ocean of God's grace.
Even though small and hidden, always bursting out cool fresh bubbly water for Christ's kingdom
"He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, 'From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.'"
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
Habits
I am so good with
planning, schedules, habits…They are so good and predictable and safe
and orderly… but, as soon as I figure out a little formula in my
relationship with Dad, He changes the numbers, scrambles the order,
moves things around, left me to figure out the new equation where He is
the only constant.
Funny but not funny as I have spend so much time an effort into a steady structure of communing with God, only to realize that Jesus’s life in me does not flow as in an power generation schedule in a dam, it just flows. His life in me, mine in His abiding -through the day, through the seasons, through the changes, when life is good or turns out gray and sad …the flow never stops.
Life is hectict at home lately. Whatever habits and set times formed are gone so today I venture to find Him in the unpredictable and yes -I will find the constant again!
Funny but not funny as I have spend so much time an effort into a steady structure of communing with God, only to realize that Jesus’s life in me does not flow as in an power generation schedule in a dam, it just flows. His life in me, mine in His abiding -through the day, through the seasons, through the changes, when life is good or turns out gray and sad …the flow never stops.
Life is hectict at home lately. Whatever habits and set times formed are gone so today I venture to find Him in the unpredictable and yes -I will find the constant again!
Monday, August 12, 2019
Past Present & Hope
Some days my heart gets a sudden chill -even during summer hot days. Things, people, places, stories so far away and so long ago creep causing a halt in the day's routine.
The cold sadness of the moment makes me wish for a blanket made of my mothers voice, my dad's company, the noise and smells of the country left behind. A warm blanket weaved of my brothers childhood, green rain forests, mangoes and coffee with my aunt. My cousins, noisy streets, familiar conversations, music and laughter hand stitched with the familiar threads of the past. A blanket to crawl in bed and cry...
But God gives me no such thing...He gives me hope instead, the sudden push that restores the irregular heart beat, wipes the tears and slowly warms the cold feeling of loneliness just like a jump start, CPR of the soul, pumping fresh air and allowing me to breath, open my eyes and touch the present, look into my husbands eyes, the roses in the garden, my children bursting through the door, the new smells of my kitchen and today unfolding bright and new.
And then I am not cold anymore, God's hope is truly soothingly warm...
For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope
Jer 29:11
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
Ventura Highway and the Ancient Path
Thus says the LORD,
“Stand by the ways and see and ask for the ancient paths,
Where the good way is, and walk in it;
And you will find rest for your souls.
But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’
“Stand by the ways and see and ask for the ancient paths,
Where the good way is, and walk in it;
And you will find rest for your souls.
But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’
The Beginning
A family driving down USA highway 101 on a sunny day, a flat tire by a road sign, the open road before them and alligator lizard clouds in the sky...
Years and life turned the boys memories into America's song "Ventura Highway" -forever capturing in music my soul's longing for leaving...to jump in a car and drive into an endless road, a place far away from troubles, dishes, routine, cold rainy days, bothersome painful things and bad memories.Go, go, go...
Once, years ago, I did leave and crashed...
The Middle
No more speedways for me.
Instead, I stopped and asked for a different way to the sunny land in the song, and was assured that a very old narrow trail with twists and turns was the safest way to get there with the benefit of adding a wonderful calming effect on those who take it -especially those with restless hearts such as mine. I follow this route on foot and it's true.
And the End
Every now and then the longing to go away still wiggles within. Ventura Highway still plays in a corner of my mind, but with no need to take off running. I know my hidden trail will lead to that everlasting sunshine at the end of my life road, and I'm gonna go for sure -just like the song, no crashes and no coming back.
Here is the song
And here is the Old Path
Monday, December 5, 2016
El Ron Ponche de Tía Berna
Esta es mi historia acerca del
ron ponche de mi tía Berna –porque no hay receta.
Es una
gloria pero, como ella nunca mide los ingredientes, ya es costumbre el que para
Navidad le haga una llamada para que me explique -más o menos, cantidades y
procedimiento.
–Tía, y
cuanto de leche?
-Bueno,
eso depende de cuantas botellas vayas a hacer...
-Aja…
-Y de
maicena? Ahí la vas echando; primer la disuelves en un poquito de leche, la
cuelas antes de echarla para que no se te hagan grumos y si no espesa con dos
cucharadas, échale tres.
Y de
azúcar? –al gusto niña…pero acuérdate que las yemas las echas al principio y no
dejes de revolver porque se te ahúma.
El año
pasado, a pesar de seguirle las indicaciones tuve que repetir la receta dos
veces; la primera vez, lo cocine a temperatura muy alta y la leche se cuajo. La
segunda, por alguna razón la mezcla no espesó.
Mi
Navidad vino y se fue sin el ron ponche de la Tía pero, para Año Nuevo me
propuse poner punto final al misterio y con alma de alquimia me avoque al
descubrimiento de cantidades medibles en onzas, tazas, cucharadas, cucharaditas,
temperaturas y tiempo de cocción. El
resultado? Un ponche de seda amarillito, con sutil aroma de vainilla, nuez
moscada recién rallada y un final de ron añejo –una delicia…
Después
de tanta prueba y error, he llegado a la conclusión de que lo mas importante
del procedimiento es el arte de la paciencia, –en eso Tía Berna tiene toda la
razón, esto no es para quien no quiera tratar los ingredientes con ternura y
estar dispuesto a dejar un retazo de la vida pegado a la estufa.
Y bueno,
aun cuando logre poner en blanco y negro la receta, sigo llamando a mi Tía para
Navidad para hacerle las mismas preguntas no sea que me falte algún detallito y
para no olvidar la tradición de varios años.
Aun así
dejo constancia de que El ron ponche de Tía Berna seguirá siendo un tema abierto,
sin cantidades fijas, al gusto del momento, un poquito mas de esto o un poquito
menos de aquello, un toque de su alegría de vivir, dulce, cremoso que al
probarlo te sepa a cielo.
La receta esta en la sonrisa |
-
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Unexpected Light
Written years back for a Christmas labyrinth
Before
the foundation of the world the Master Pyrothecnician designed a magnificent
spectacle of fireworks. With utmost care
and artistry He combined all needed elements to produce the most amazing
display of brilliant light and vivid colors to paint the sky for a marvelous
occasion.
So,
one dark night, over the little town of Bethlehem,
He lit the charges and the heavens exploded with radiant light in a pallet of
red, purple, yellows and blues.
A
successful burst of strobes, brocades, peonies and waterfalls fell from the
night canopy in unison with the music of angels announcing to a handful of
marveled spectators the unexpected birth of the Prince.
Oh glorious
denouement to the darkness of man’s soul
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