Burning Ones

I Am Hungry Lord. Listening to this on Spotify! You will be blessed! Fill me up, Lord! My time has not passed! God let the dry bones live! I have not been on here for a few weeks. So much is happening, some good, some challenges and just plain too tired and distracted. I had to share this. As I sat here at my computer, writing this, I have been listening to the Burning Ones (Good, Good Father) playlist. Encouraging Word, powerful, anointed song. I NEEDED this today, perhaps you do too. God Bless.

Ever feel discouraged, like your life just didn’t go the way you wanted it too. Ever wonder where God is or where He went? Has it been hard to look up, well this will greatly encourage you. He has not forgotten you. He loves you and IF you’ve never known Him, or felt His touch…it’s not too late, no matter how old you are, or what you have done or NOT done. It’s time for healing and hope to arise. GREAT is the Deliverance of the Lord. Open our eyes Lord, Open our hearts and our ears to receive from You.

He Knew Me

While working in my office, which is a total mess and  needs organizing (it gets worse as I tackle it); I like to listen to Christian music or worship. I am very eclectic in what I listen too, and there are times I just have to listen to one of my favorites, Jason Crabb. Many of my friends, especially the younger crowd, are not too interested in Southern Gospel, but there is a sweet spot in my heart that can only be filled with this genre. Needless to say, as I sit here, I could not focus on my task at hand, and was pulled into the sweet Presence of the Lord. What a wonderful distraction! Here are just a few of my favorites by this young man that stops me in my tracks…and just pulls me ‘upwards.’  God Bless…Karen

WHEN HE WAS ON THE CROSS

This song has often brought me to tears: ” While He was on the Cross, You were on His mind.  He knew me, yet He loved me. He whose glory makes the heavens shine. I’m so unworthy, of such mercy, for while He was on the Cross, I was  on His mind.”

SOMETIMES I CRY

I think we can all relate to this song. It was written by Jason Crabb’s father. I believe in being real and transparent. I don’t mean we should spill all your woes and sorrows all over people, be discreet…but sometimes we just need relate to others so they can see we are no different than any other human being in this world, Christian or not; only difference is we are saved by Grace, and we have an Advocate and a Helper in Christ. Being a Christian isn’t about being perfect or pretending to be, lets shake off the ‘holier’ than thou facade we often try to project and just be the ‘light’ God calls us to be.

 

DAYSTAR (SHINE DOWN ON ME)

This song has been the cry of my heart so many times. I have wept as I listened and worshiped. The Words of the song say it all.

Lilly of the valley, let your sweet aroma fill my life
Rose of Sharon show me, how to grow in beauty in Gods sight
Fairest of ten thousand, make me a reflection of your light
Daystar shine down on me, let your love shine through me in the night

Lead me Lord I’ll follow, anywhere you open up the door
Let your words speak to me, show me what Ive never seen before
Lord I long to be your witness, cause you can take whats wrong and make it right
Daystar shine down on me, let your love shine through me in the night

Lord I see your world thats dying, wounded by the master of deceit
Groping in the darkness, haunted by the years of past defeat
But when I see you standing near me Lord, shining with compassion in your eyes
I pray Jesus shine down on me, let your love shine through me in the night

Oh Yes
Lead me Lord Ill follow, anywhere you open up the door
Let your words speak to me, show me what Ive never seen before
Lord I long to be your witness, cause you can take whats wrong and make it right
Daystar shine down on me, let your love shine through me in the night

Yes, Daystar shine down on me, oh, oh, yes Daystar shine down on me oh, oh,
Jesus shine down on me, let your love shine through me in the night (repeat 2 times)

 

 

I Surrender All

I SURRENDER ALL

 

Oh, How I Love Jesus: Friend, Savior, Prince of Peace, Lover of my Soul, my Healer, Deliverer, Redeemer, Provider, Protector and more! I have felt the depths of His love and forgiveness and have wept as He moved upon my heart and life many times. No other love can compare like that of the Savior. He knew me intimately from the time I was young, and drew me to His side when I was broken, torn and lost. He looked beyond my faults and saw my need.  No one can touch a heart and life like Jesus. There are no words that can adequately describe Him. Sadly, for many,  He is confined inside a building structure, steeped in the traditions of men; a cold distant God, but that is because they have been blinded to His true nature. I cannot imagine my life without Him/ I have never regretted my choice to serve Him, nor have I ever looked back. The music in this video is from an old hymn, done instrumentally…and it is very much my story as well as many other Christians. So, many say they love God, but only give lip service…God wants our whole heart …for us to choose Him and to follow Him. He’s not looking for perfection but for those who REALLY desire to know Him, He will reveal Himself. Surrendering to Jesus..is a process, it starts with an act of faith when we ask Him to come into our hearts and lives, and then it continues on…each step of the way as we ‘allow’ Him to shape and mold our hearts and thoughts through His Word, and the Holy Spirit working in us.

 

All to Jesus I surrender;

All to Him I freely give;

I will ever love and trust Him,

In His Presence daily live.

 

I Surrender All,

I Surrender All;

All to Thee, my Blessed Savior,

I Surrender All.

 

Continue reading

The Good. The Bad. The Squirrely! ;)

A few years ago, we tried desperately to find the best ‘squirrel-resistant’ bird feeder we could. As most of you know, who have had experience with these creative and persistent critters, this is almost impossible! They just DO NOT give up, but alas, most of us humans DO! When we first moved into this house, we had a wooden frame around the front door (which we eventually replaced along with a double door); squirrels were attempting to eat away at the wood (paint and all). I had never seen anything like that, was beyond irritated, and tried rubbing different smells on the exposed wood, including Tabasco Sauce! Absolutely, nothing worked!

We were beyond excited when we moved to this house, envisioning all kinds of birds flocking to our bird feeders. We were going to become avid bird watchers, but alas, that was not to be, for after a few years of trying, we quit calling our bird feeders, ‘bird feeders’, and started calling them ‘squirrel feeders!’ Once we tried hanging one such ‘squirrel feeder’ on the end of a tall plant hook next to the tree, thinking surely they could not maneuver the metal hook with their claws. Wrong!! We did have a good laugh when a friend of ours was visiting and decided to spray the pole with a vegetable spray. We watched in glee, as that wily squirrel tried to scamper up the slippery pole, then slowly slide down. He attempted this several times. The shocked look on it’s squirrely little face gave me a some satisfaction that we had finally got the upper hand, if only but for a few sweet moments! Eventually, though, we gave up, and now have no ‘squirrel feeders’ out front; we moved them to the back of our house, where we have less of an issue, though we still see them hanging occasionally, peering into our living room window, with a look of defiance. Boy, can they jump! Truth be told, when it comes to these critters, it’s a love hate relationship, and I have been known to throw out scraps of bread or such during the winter. I’m seriously thinking of placing another ‘squirrel feeder’ out front again. If nothing else, it was pure entertainment, and sometimes, one would jump on the ledge of my office window, look in and check me out, and of course, I started putting little tidbits on the ledge. Yeah, birds are great, but not at all as entertaining…;)

The first video, “The Good, the Bad and the Squirrely,”  came about randomly, as I was still trying my hand at simple video’ making. The song just happen to fit musically, and I just went with it. The song of course is, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.  It’s up to the viewer to decide who is who…;)

The Good, The Bad and the Squirrely

This second video, was actually an Albino squirrel, that came around for a couple of years. I named him ‘Sugar,’ and caught him raiding the feeder. I did not discourage him at all, and was in fact, amused and fascinated by this ‘BIG’ fella. I chose two favorite songs of mine, “Sugar, Sugar,” and “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.”

Sugar: Our White Albino Squirrel

Published on Jan 22, 2014

(heehee, I think the Fed Ex guy is going in circles)!The White Squirrel (an albino, 1 in 100,000 chance), a big fella, at first I was going to call him Frosty, but decided to call him ‘Sugar’, because he is white and sweet (kinda/ sorta as long as I don’t make him get off the bird feeder). Since this video was taken (and I may redo this at a later date, just don’t have time right now) Lee brought the bird feeder in. I asked him why? and He said because until he fixes it, it is a ‘Squirrel Feeder! ‘ HA! He is right…poor birds have to fight to get any seeds. I decided to put up songs that would not NORMALLY be seen on a Squirrel Video or animal video…and the Archies: Sugar Sugar just made me ‘smile’, and made me happy and brought back so many memories. Got my foot tapping, and then Don’t Worry be Happy was to remind myself what the Bible says about worrying…God says worry is a sin…because it is the opposite of Faith, and as a Christian we are to trust God to take care of us. I KNOW He has everything under control…I hope you all enjoy our White Sugar Squirrel :). He’s chubby…lol. And ANYONE notice the Fed Ex guy? lol, I think he was lost or maybe he noticed our SUGAR!!! He IS Quite Spectacular….;)

Memory Bouquet : Pieces Of April

Pieces of April

Published on Apr 7, 2015 (revised from my original post on Youtube)

I originally made this video for a dear friend, a free spirit of sorts, and a nature lover. I loved this song as a young teen/adult, though I was limited to mostly country in our home, there were times, when I was finally able to drive, that I would, as soon as I left the driveway, crank the music up, and it wasn’t usually country. It seems like yesterday I was driving the folks Chevy and headed down the highway…listening to this song, ‘Pieces of April’ . I am thinking a lot about family these days, my family of origin mostly, and how fast time is slipping away. So, as I look through picture albums and video’s lately, I am making ‘memory bouquets’. When I come across a video of my mama’s grin, laugh, mannerisms, or beautiful face and/ or  a video of my daddy laughing and teasing, well…sometimes the tears threaten to come to the surface; other times  I catch myself smiling or laughing…but always I’m overwhelmed with gratitude and love.

So, over the years, I’ve become a collector. A collector of memories, through pictures, video’s and more. I have a Memory Bouquet…full of life, love and laughter. Times of joy and laughter, times of pain and sorrow…but through it all  a wonderful ‘bouquet’ of memories. I’ve learned through the years how, to pray, to forgive, to push forward, to endure, to love, to sing, to overcome, to speak my mind, to break through intimidation and fear and to fight for what I believe in. I’ve learned to laugh through the pain, I’ve wept in times of joy,  praised God in the storm, stood on His Word, and sat at His feet in worship and surrender. God is constantly working in my heart…pruning, watering, breaking up the shallow ground, and shining His light in the dark places. I am ever so grateful He knows how to love me to life, picks up the broken pieces, looks beyond my faults and sees my needs. He tends to me like a well watered garden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

View From the Bottom Rung (the life of a scribe)

By Vander H. Atwell.  August 20th, 2016

Hmm. View From The Bottom Rung must be running nigh onto five years to date. Let’s see now, how does one express his heartfelt gratitude for the chance to appear here on this page every other Saturday? Welst, the well-worn old phrase, it’s an honor and a privilege pretty well nails it. A lot of water under the bridge since it began but still ambling along despite the roiling of rivers. Not always easy but we manage.

I do have the best, most approving critic a man could ever hope to have review the final draft before sending over to the good folks at the ’Courier. Each time an article is finished my gal reads it, graciously nods her approval and asks what the next will be about.

You wouldn’t know what a tough question that is to answer most time, and invariably the reply is “I don’t know.” It’s hard for an old guy with only a couple of stories to tell when it all began five years ago to come up with fresh material every two weeks, what with distractions so numerous and interesting that he postpones scribing long as he dares, or simply extends the current project out by making it a bit wordier than perhaps it should be.

Oh, you noticed, eh? The great cowboy philosopher Will Rogers (not to be confused with my friend, local sage and musical entrepreneur Mr. Bill Rogers) once said “Never miss a good chance to shut up,” wise advice one supposes after all rambling on and on means more likelihood of wandering off onto sidebars and less time to began and finish the next text. Despite the uncoupled and misarranged prose we do manage to persist despite an arthritic neck and shoulder compliments of my long career as a logger; hunching over this infernal word processer only serves to agitate and exacerbate a condition brought on by 45 years using myself as a pack animal, forcing the keeping of the pain reliever Tylenol close at hand.

Recently the hocus pocus of politics has been a major distraction from the primary purpose of simply “jawing” with my friends and neighbors. “Hocus pocus” by the way, is a term ordinarily applied to the realm of politics and means ‘tricks used to hide what is happening, especially by distorting the situation and making it difficult to understand’; the constant buzz tends to pull the old gentleman’s focus aside from the chase like a fox hound distracted by a cotton tail rabbit.

There was a time early in life political distractions just didn’t happen, working too hard and much too tired for politics; come election time no question asked, like a loyal and dutiful son I just went to the polls and voted Democrat. And why not, my heritage was Democrat, the political landscape in my place of origin here in the South was Democrat, my grandparents were Democrat, my father, mother and three siblings were Democrat: (well, there was that one sister married to a Republican, a World War II veteran and survivor of the Battle of the Bulge). ’Just say I was “habitized” by tradition into a political philosophy, no hard choices wherewith my conscience to contend. Rather than choosing a political ride by raising its hood, kicking its tires and examining the chassis, t’was the only franchise in town and only modal on the lot.

But now, 17 years into retirement sitting beside the boulevard of humanity’s dreams, watching chariots running to and fro, observing the industry and strivings of my fellow citizens, I sit’s and ponders the debits and the credits of unquestioning obedience to “the faith.”

It’s not that my conscience or philosophy has changed all that much through the years, rather that the political landscape shifted beneath my feet, even before I walked off the job to feast on the fruits of my long labors.

My disputation with the change tends to show up in the heat of this election year battle, where the constant buzz of bizarre machinations tends to distract from sane discourse. Yes, yes, I realize that involving in the chaotic tangle makes me just as zany, but t’was born with a fiery competitive feistiness, and the embers are slow to fade.

No, there’s not a thing to be done about the folly of it all, except “to thy self be true. A song by Larry Gattlin allows that “All the gold in California is in a bank in the middle of Beverly Hills in someone else’s name” still, one remains “involved” even as coastal tides sweep inland consuming every sacred value and conscientious tradition that made this country and its people great.

Eventually though, we try getting back to more mundane things and focus upon the community around us; things that sustain the soul as life, love – or is that liberty – and the pursuit of happiness; take it from someone on the latter end of a long trail, “pursuit of happiness” becomes more important the less time allotted to the “pursuit.” Admittedly there’s not a whole lot of human interest in such mundane topics as lawn mowing, tree trimming, house washing and flower gardening, yet, in chaotic times we should all be happier to channel our lives in more tranquil directions and occupy ourselves with the comfort of the common and the familiar ere the last embers die and cold of darkness chills flesh to the bone.

Does not the scriptures say that ‘Man does not live by politics alone’? Well, perhaps it should, considering the distracting brouhaha seeping from every crack and corner of our own little domain these days. Then there’s the scriptural suggestion that we “eat, drink, and be merry” for tomorrow, well you get the gist.

Many retirees take up vegetable or flower gardening as a hobby, and as a relief from the tedium of idleness.

When I bought my house in Alma, the appeal of it was a large yard that would need my attention, keep me occupied all toned up and out of trouble. But the main distraction, hobby, whichever we shall call it is/ has been music, especially in the years looking forward to retirement and what to do with idle hands.

But music itself can be a distraction sometime with serious potential for hurt by drawing attention away from demanding activities at hand.

Yes son, some jobs are so dangerous that daydreaming (preoccupation with other things) can be deadly.

Early on in life I fancied myself a guitar picker playing my first gig with a Country Dance band at Susanville California ’way back in 1953. It soon became apparent that I would never become another Chet Adkins, and the fancy only distracted from the responsibility of raising a family. The bars we played were no place for a young man with a start-up family to hang out, and having a wife and child, domestic and financial stability overruled any fanciful strivings or sacrifice for fame and fortune out ’neath those neon lights. I quit my government job, left my budding musical career behind and hit the timber trail, the bluest skies, the freshest air and the most lucrative employment a kid of my humble raisings might find. In retrospect, the danger of it made it a dumb thing for a young greenhorn to do, but then a yearling is never easily advised and what the heck—I did survive.

Today with time on my hands to make music an enjoyable and satisfying hobby, it again becomes a distraction of sorts at least in relation to my uh, “literary contributions” here at the PAC. So much time and effort dedicated to musical venues, projects, practice, etc., and further, the old scribbler has recently been “domesticated” and there’s all those social activities divided betwixt two families and a passel of friends each vying for time and attention within the heart and soul of me. Not much leeway for a column written by a slow plodding thinker and one finger “typer” and no time for thumb twiddling over on social media though admittedly I’m often inclined to that direction. Some might even say addicted.

It has been said that procrastination is the thief of time and lord knows there’s been times I’ve wasted so much time there was little time left to finish an article and get it in in time for publication.

Yes, the laptop upon which I scribe, itself is a major distractor from things more important in life, but I’ve yet to reach the point of insanity: Had lunch over at Chili’s a few weeks back and watched as three different couples came in, ordered, then brought out their iphones and proceeded to ignore each other the entire meal. So much precious time lost when one becomes lost out there in the endless reaches of cyber space.

Today I finish this column five days ahead of schedule, a luxury I tell’s ya! Next due Sept. 3. Time’s a wasting.