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Good Lord , show me the way...

3/23/2022

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“As I went down in the river to pray
Studying about that good old way
And who shall wear the robe and crown
Good Lord, show me the way!”
​
It is an interesting time that we are living through. Even as I study history, I've never before witnessed the global extravagance of wickedness that we're now seeing. There have been vast land masses and empires where tyrants have conquered and ruled, but nothing as broad and far reaching as the current revolution of depravity and brainwashing exposing itself before our very eyes.
 
I find that as I listen to naivety speak, my mind gets sparked by a phrase or a word. For days I will ponder them and even experience sleeplessness over what I'd heard. I return to the source or person in my thoughts. I pray about it and seek answers in the Bible.
 
My greatest concern is what children are going through in this bedlam of mass confusion and treacherous ideology amongst a consensus of openly flagrant little antichrists. Those who operate in darkness yet have disingenuously formed ranks in the dominion of worldly imperialism. Their collective authority has, as one of its goals, the debasement of the minds of the “next” generation. They seek to empower an “anything is permissible” way of thinking amid the collectivism of immorality. God ordained parental leadership to raise up children that would know him, obey him, and walk in his ways. Parents, in their extreme folly to please their peers and the ever-growing culture of “no judgement," have slowly, methodically, given up their responsibility to govern their own households in righteousness.
 
To live as though there is no judgment of anything we do is to inhabit a euphoric comic book reality. There must be a red line one should never cross. Yet society, the educational systems, business communities, government regulations, so-called "social justice" issues, along with unsavory oligarchs who rule in high places have sorely tested our God given ability to know what is good and pure. What is honorable to the Almighty. In doing so, there has emerged a comradery of individuals who no longer desire meekness or self-control. There prospers by and large, a concerted affinity to lift a fist against the Lord of Hosts and no longer concern oneself with “Hallowed be His name.”
 
Parents who cling to kindness as a mantra of wanting their children to be raised as little non-judgmental ideologues of the future, have also desensitized them from being able to distinguish right from wrong. Little ones look to their parents. They trust them, they want to please them, and then they get thrown to the wolves! Children assume that they will be protected. If a parent gives another authority over them such as a teacher or day care provider, a child can but think that they have been put into safekeeping. A child would never think that a parent doesn’t love them enough to refrain from throwing them into the pit of modern day Molech worship.
 
​The guardian of a child’s soul rests in the hands of their parents. A parent judges them. If they were to slap a sibling or hurt someone unnecessarily, a parent corrects them, even causing them to feel shame. Along with the charge of being a parent goes the task of teaching your children. The Bible assigns the response from a child as “Children, obey your parents in the Lord; for this is right.” (Ephesians 6:1). It would then be imperative that a parent also teach them and shield them from the heinousness and the consequences of not being equipped to judge that which is depravity. There is such depravity in the world that even to think of some examples is hellish. Imagine telling a 2-, 3-, 4-, or 5-year-old … that their parent assigned them their gender of male or female. Or that the existence of multiple genders is real. What barbaric cruelty. If you are a father or a mother and you allow this or other putrid indoctrination to take over even a miniscule of your child’s mind and heart you are a horrific, wicked, sinful human being. You think there isn’t going to be judgement against you by The God of Creation?
​Think again…
 
This is not a time when division exists as it’s been perceived by the spellbinding talking points which have been repeated for years. No, the division is minimal. The majority is marching lock step. They are the simple minded, they are the weak, and their minds are eager to please, and to go along to get along. They have been trapped into believing an overindulgent permissiveness that in the end will lead to death. They are dragging their children in chains thru a crucible of brilliant trickery that will end in destruction.
 
The remnant is those who have been born again and have been given the power of God to overcome.  We are the poor, the contrite of spirit. We are those who tremble at the word of God. We, as well as every individual of the world, will give an account before him for everything we have done or not done, and for every word that comes out of our mouths. We are the ones who agree with God about sin and repentance. We are the ones who are humbled by the blood of Jesus. We are the ones who sojourn in a world that is not our home. We are the ones whose eyes are averted, looking up for the day when the Lord brings us to Himself. We know that our Savior lives and our hope and faith rests in Him.
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Give me Jesus

1/20/2022

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In my opinion, the so-called church has been a disgrace the past years. Having already been softened by false teachers and wolves, the church has continued in bowing to evil and caving to ungodly tyranny. They neglected to call upon the Lord while replacing sound doctrine, humility, and reverence unto Him, "who is able to destroy both soul and body.” It's been replaced by fear, complacency, and the battle cry, “for the greater good.” Having been given the opportunity to be refined and tested in their faith, they allowed this crucible of wickedness and lies to take over their minds. They ignorantly supported and lifted up all the little antichrists whose sole purpose was to divide and conquer. Others posted feel-good memes on social media to make themselves appear to “be kind.” Preachers gave on-line sermons, weeping as they neglected to encourage true fellowship with the Lord along with believers, settling instead, for the unrighteousness of the world rather than taking up their cross. They sat on the sidelines allowing deception to infiltrate the church while the sheep got scattered. 
Covid? Think about the persecution of the early church and ask yourselves, "was it worth it?"
God did not separate elders to act as cheerleaders. “He Himself gave some, apostles, and some prophets, and some shepherds and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints for the work of ministry, for the building up of the body of Christ” (Ephesians 4:11-12). 
The church's cowardly stance had already been taken when vipers like Mike Yaconelli, Richard Foster, Dallas Willard, Rick Warren, Mark Driscoll, and others were celebrated and ushered into their doors. Meanwhile, the stench of their heresy continues to fill the air. It's now become transparently revealed during this time when the flock needs, more than ever, Godly leadership to prevail. Were you not charged with discerning the times and to warn the Church concerning adversaries? James wrote “Adulterers and adulteresses, know ye not that friendship of the world is enmity with God? Whosoever therefore will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God.”
There is no such thing as “go along to get along” in serving the Almighty.
I take no pleasure in what I have witnessed. It saddens my heart. Blindness is real. Yet I know that God has always set apart a remnant church of His children bought and paid for by the precious and holy blood of Jesus. The remnant follows in that trail of blood. Being hated and persecuted for his name because we trust in him who says, “I will be with you always, even unto the end of the age” (Matthew 28:21). That remnant seeks the Lord for signs and wonders when their backs are up against the Red Sea. They seek and trust in His Divine power to rescue them or if it be His will, to die with outstretched hands and the promise of eternal life. 
To Him be the glory now and forever…
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A winter walk..

1/28/2018

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Unto The Lamb

10/18/2016

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Years ago my mother gave me a book (one of many). The book is called The Book In Review, by Herbert Vanderlugt. It is a quick and wonderful review of the Bible from Genesis to Revelation. The book follows two streams, one of individual salvation and one world redemption- as they flow through the Bible. (page 192) 
At the very end the last words or quote is from a man named Eric Sauer and it is one of my favorite messages about God.
" We behold with worship this age-long plan of God. The record of salvation in the Bible has conducted us from the gate of eternity before all time to the gate of eternity after this time. The goal is exactly as the commencement (Psalm 90:2), God Himself...But He Himself, the King of ages (1Timothy 1:17), will then bring ages upon ages out of His inexhaustible, infinite fullness (Revelation 22:5; Ephesians 2:7). In heavenly jubilees  will His redeemed creatures praise Him, and through the spheres and worlds of the new creation will ring and resound the triumphant, exultant song: "Unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, be the blessing, and the honor, and the glory, and the dominion, from eternity to eternity.
​(Revelation 5:13,14).

(This picture was taken on a lovely September long drive with my dad)

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Strolling...

6/23/2016

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I remember the day well, it was overcast but warm. I walked down the road , through the path , and onto the beach. The waves were strong and I was glad that I had my boots on to keep my feet dry. I looked and saw birds and seagulls laughing in the wind. I lowered my body almost flat on the sand as the salty air filled my lungs. I dug my elbows into the ground and positioned my camera.  At that time I didn't know how to shoot in manual and I didn't know the different types of beach birds by name.
All I knew was that it was beautiful...

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Out Fishin...

4/5/2016

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"Only one who has learned much can fully appreciate his ignorance. He knows so well the limits of his knowledge and how much lies waiting to be learned." 
Louis L'Amour 


There was a wet snow falling on me as I stood high on the rocks along the bank of the river. 
Earlier I had been to a sandwich shop and found out from a fisherman that they were putting up the nets to catch the alewives. For some reason I thought they did that in May, not in April. My curiosity was peeked and I drove over to walk the paths high above the water with my camera around my neck and protectively tucked into my coat. 
I am not a people person but I have a longing to learn new things. Gaining knowledge of something drives me, I think that is why I love the outdoors and wildlife so much. 
As I stood watching, I thought to myself "Who in their right mind would stand in the cold and be this excited?"  I glanced up the river and saw two fishermen hanging nets. They were dressed like lobsterman in boots, hats and warm clothing. It was very interesting to me to see how much work it was for them to hang and secure their equipment. Mind you it was wet, overcast, and snowing. 
To the left of me I heard some younger boys come down another path. They were carrying small hand held nets, smoking cigarettes and dressed in jeans, unzipped jackets, baseball hats, and all weather boots.
They put down their gear and came my way. After a nice conversation they informed me that they were fishing "blind." Which meant they couldnt see the fish. Apparently they drag their hand held nets in and out of the water to get whatever they can catch. 
I asked them questions. They explained that the alewives run mostly during high tide. The fishermen usually come to gather their haul during low tide. Sometimes they stay throughout the day, checking and adjusting their gear. 
After they left I kneeled down on a rock and drew my camera out, using it like binoculars. I focused up and down the river. It was pretty cool taking a closer look at all the netting on both sides of the banks. I felt wound up with anticipation, imaging how the river anglers must be feeling too, preparing for their season. It's a tough way to make a living. In a way it's an honor for me to witness, as the wife of a seafaring husband. Like my husband, these men work hard, they likely sacrifice long hours to get the job done. Like my husband who is an engineer, these fishermen work with their hands. There is no glory and no glamour. It's dirty, it's messy, and it requires concentration and quick thinking. I so admire those who I like to say are, "working for a living."
Gutsy !!!
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Journal of a photographer...

3/31/2016

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When I first started doing photography I took pictures of everything. I practiced the fundamentals (I still do) of sunsets, lighthouse sunrises, sea smoke, landscape, action, wildlife, and people. You name it I played with my camera in many environments just to learn. ( I still do) Eventually I started paying attention to myself so that I could “be in touch” with what I really enjoyed, what was I passionate about, what did I get excited about? I began to narrow that down and ...today I mostly do only what I love to do. I have found that it is important for me to be excited about the process. It’s personal… I try never to lose sight of that. I am a loner to extremes. Networking is not my “thing” although I am told over and over again how important that is??? I spend a tremendous amount of time outside. It is not an exaggeration to say I am outside 4-5 days a week in all weather for 5-10 hours at a stretch. I track in the woods and on rivers sitting quietly and observing for hours. I’ve been chased by fisher cats and carry pepper spray, especially in the spring. (I am quite concerned about bears right now.) When I need a break I head to a city to “get away” from everything and play with my version of street photography. Yesterday I traveled west and ended up in the woods and river quite some distance from our house. It was a great day. I was in solitude, I was surprised by nature, I observed, learned, and captured images that fuel my love for photography and the lifestyle I’m so blessed to enjoy.
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Photography, Lyme disease & thoughts...

3/3/2016

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I’ve had many thoughts reeling around in my mind which I’ve wanted to write about. Photography, Christianity, despair, ongoing grief, life, marriage, and a new grandchild en route are only some of the things I’ve been thinking about. In my mind I’ve written full blogs, complete with sarcasm, honesty, and humor. But alas, my Lyme disease has gotten the better part of me causing tiredness, confusion, and procrastination. As a result I’ve done plenty of contemplating and had time for personal evaluation of my past year.

Having Lyme disease feels, at times, like depression...or worse yet, (my Achilles’ heel), having Alzheimer’s. Not prone to whining or seeking a doctor, I have found it to be a bit crippling and downright annoying! I have bursts of energy and work steady for a few hours only to have that followed by days of sitting, resting, and diminished focus. I don’t nessecarily think of myself as having chronic Lyme but since being diagnosed last July I have times that I just hit a wall for days or weeks. I am learning to adjust… but I refuse to get overly analytical or neurotic.

I have had good days. I’ve been able to go out and find eagles. I’ve observed waterfowl. I’ve walked new paths and come across big cat paws. I’ve met some wonderful people in the past weeks. They have told me stories about themselves and have been encouraging towards me and my lifestyle of photography. They’ve told me about places they’ve discovered “along the beaten paths.”

I often run into people who pull out their smart phones and start to show me all of their pictures. I hardly ever show people my pictures. Most don’t ask to see them, but they see my camera and assume that I want to see their pictures, which I find interesting. I am a study of character, personalities, and a person’s peculiar estimation of themselves. I do at times have to pull myself away from some “longwinded” grandiosity.

Pictures, pictures, and more pictures. “Are you a photographer?” This is a question, not only asked of me but one that I have given considerable thought to. What is a photographer? Who calls themselves a photographer and why? What makes a person a photographer? It’s not a good time to “be” a photographer, as the world is full of pictures. Iphones, smart phones, social media, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Audubon, National Geographic, magazines, and the list goes on ad nauseam. Everybody, or at least 1 in 5 people, is a photographer. The word itself as found in the dictionary doesn’t help to define the matter; a person who takes photographs, especially one who practices photography professionally.
Wikipedia offers a better explanation or one that better describes the word photographer:
“A photographer (the Greek φῶς (phos), meaning “light” and γραφή (graphê), meaning “drawing, writing”, together meaning “drawing with light” is a person who takes photographs.”

An artist of sorts…  Pure, edited, manipulated, or not photography is more than a hobby and more than just a picture. It is an obsession and a way of life. Photographers think about photography all the time. When we see something, when we travel, when we plan, when we read a magazine or watch TV our minds are pondering how, what, where, when, and capturing a scene.  Many, like me, consider what speed or iso was used to capture a picture that we may admire. Photography is more than simply taking a picture; it is a focused, practiced, and disciplined craft/art.

Yet in this day and age, with just about everyone being a photographer, it is competitive, cut throat, and snarky. It is veneered with “niceness,” pride, and clicks that in some ways reminds me of adult high school.  "Are you published?" "What equipment are you using?" "How did you edit that?" "Have you met so and so?"  Once I was on a beach photographing and was asked, “who do you represent?” as though my credentials meant something. To me nobodies’ credentials mean much. Once a photographer is deemed as popular, they're always popular. Even when a new photograph is not very good, critics continue to hand out positive feedback, while the social media world of validation give out mindless thumbs up and “likes.”  

Many so called photographers want handouts on others work and edits. They see something they like, they follow crowds of favored photographers, and they flood landscapes for sunsets, sunrises, and established preferred in demand pictures. I appreciate that for gaining understanding on how our own camera works and advancing personal knowledge, but let’s face it... learning how to photograph requires perseverance, growth, and blood, sweat and tears. As my husband can attest to it is not without meltdowns and disappointment.

I am a photographer, I am a book publisher, and I am a writer. Good, bad, indifferent, or rejected it has to be a passion. It cannot be about seeking others' approval. It is art. It is intimate. It is sincerity shared.


SIDE NOTE: This is not meant against my FB friends who share their wonderful pictures of family, kids, and animals. I love to see your life! This is about a different segment of people.
 

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Press

11/21/2015

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September, my favorite month !

9/18/2015

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The leaves not yet red, orange, nor yellow.

I sit silently watching and barely moving as the colors seem like they're about to burst!

The air smells different and the light in the sky reflects a gentle haze on the treetops.

My heart waits in anticipation of barnyard animals and fairground cotton candy, fries,

and gooey sandwiches. Oxen pulls, sheep shearing and funny chickens are all coming

my way.

The river nearby flows and flowers along the way are beginning to turn rusty and

brown. Overhead the sound of summer birds grows faint...

Like some good "ole" fashion handclapping gospel music in the background

September's amber glow gleans a little bit of sorrow, remembrance, and hope...

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William W. Webster &Family get ready for the "Big E"
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More "just thinking" about Israel

7/26/2015

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For behold, I create Jerusalem for rejoicing And her people for gladness -Isaiah 65:18

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Overlooking the CityDavid.jpg
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In my own studies, I have done some in depth research on most of the Jewish priesthoods. I have very strong viewpoints about this subject. I am aware of the political persuasion&influence in Israel by the Orthodoxy Hasidic sect of Judaism, which took hold&inserted its own brand of legalism, righteousness&peity in their society. Like the days of Jesus when the Sadducees&Phaisees comprised the ruling class, so it is today with the Hasidic authoritative impact. I find them fascinating to study, watch and talk to, but with all due respect my theorem position always stands on biblical doctrine. Therefore, only the Jewish priesthood of eternal value is the Leviticus sect. I recall having this discussion with a scholar who happily declared that, "...there is no such thing today as the Levites priestly function and that there are none..."
Hmmm...perhaps he should go to Israel and walk the Kotel Tunnel.
God is at work.
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The first camera I gave any thought to buying was a SONY point and shoot. It cost us $279.00 and we bought it to have something to take with us to Israel.
Excerpt from my book
When It's All Said & Done

"I cannot begin to express the awe of this trip.
Dave, Nate&I bonded in a way that only those who love God&His word can identify with. We stayed in Tel Aviv, at the Park Plaza Orchard, on the beach. We took daily trips from this point of origin, returning at night. We bicycled to Old Jaffa, traveled to the Jordan River, saw Meggiddo, walked the old cities of Jesus's day, gazed at Old Jerusalem from the Mt of Olives, cried at the Garden of Gethsemane, stood on Calvary, witnessed the place of Christ's tomb, climped the stairs to the Rotunda, took pictures of the Chapel of the Franks, toured the Kotel Tunnel, bowed&prayed near the supposed place of the Arc of the Covenant."
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Old Jerusalem from The Mount of Olives
"We talked to Leviticus Priests, covered our heads at the Western Wall& Old City, strolled&smelled the aroma of the Cotton Merchants Market. We were stopped at the entrance of the Dome of the Rock by gun toting guards, soaked in the Negev Desert&the Dead Sea. We toured Masada&the West Bank, went to Haifa, Mount Carmel, Caesarea, and walked the Crusader underground city&the grand gothic Knights Hall. We saw the Roman Theater&aqueducts, Herold's palace, and saw the beauty of Rash Hanikra, along the Lebanon-Israeli border.
We talked, and visited with people, whose lives&personal stories were magnificent. It was extraordinary&unbelievable. We cried, laughed&pinched ourselves at this blessing of a trip. It was intense, historical& deeply profound for all three of us."
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Some marvel at evolution I marvel at creation...

3/26/2015

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“Sitting in the front row” is something mom said to my brother Scott. She was proud of all of us but she liked to use this saying especially with Scott, in terms of his accomplishments & career.

 Sitting in the front row…  

My husband and I often talk about how blessed we are as Christians to be “sitting in the front row.” We are not alone in the front row but are joined with all Christians who have excepted the extended hand of God’s grace by faith in Christ Jesus. We marvel, not because we are better than others but because we trust in the words written in the Bible. We are in awe at how God has revealed Himself through these 66 books contained within the full manuscript. For us, sitting in the front row allows a different panorama on the world. We experience the geopolitical decline of morality, a plethora of evil, and news which, from a Biblical point of view gives us a context not shared by all. Dave, my husband, and I are not immune from all that we witness in terms of anger, rage or disbelief in this rise of evil seen in the world, but we are comforted by the hope which passes all understanding and by a future anticipation of heaven with our King.  

It is a quagmire to me when I listen to the sophistry of the world either on TV or in person or by reading an article. My mind cannot absorb so much foolishness... and yes, ignorance, yet such were I before my rebirth in God.  

All around me people pump themselves up, needing to be right for arguments sake. There is a “cause” for anything, a worldly righteousness, and clamoring for relevance in misfit land. I know that for many it comes from a place which is believed to be “noble.”  In some ways I admire them. I admire those who take a stand for what they regard as good; I do not, however, admire inconsistency or hypocrisy. My admiration, though, is not my compliance to any form of belief other than a homogenous Biblical aspect.  

I find it suspicious when non-Christians use the Bible to justify something. How is it that a miniscule “part” of the whole can be used to advocate a principle in a secular incitement generally geared against a Christian or (more shocking), an adherent to Biblical Christianity?  I don’t mean to be harsh. I know many Christians who have not read their Bible cover to cover who do this too. Sadly it is a red flag for deception within the church. A single verse out of approximately 30,000 or better will never satisfy, unless, that is, one understands the magnificent truth of the fullness of time at the Cross. As a general precept though one doesn’t get to borrow a verse and quip, “touché I’ve won!"  

In trusting in God, some would find it uncomfortable that I am thankful that God in his word warned us of the battle by telling us in Ephesians 6 that, “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”  I believe it! It is not beyond my ability to make this leap of faith and so I imagine the unseen war just behind the veil of my vision. There are those who faithful get up every morning and run to the horoscope section in the newspaper. They read their daily brief and they believe too, never really questioning their obsession with superstition... taken, by the way, from the real meaning of the zodiac found in the Bible.  

I am thankful that God made me and that He has always known me. That leap of faith is as easy for me as those who believe that they evolved from ape-hood and goofy muck into the stunning human being that they are today.  

I like sitting in the front row and being challenged to dig into my Bible deeply when I have questions. I am thankful to have a person in God to turn to in prayer when I doubt, when I am sad, when I am feeling alone and when I want to quit. I am thankful for the presence of the Holy Spirit, along with the illumination in wisdom to my heart and mind. Sitting in the front row means I am His guest… He is the councilor, the mentor, the one on center stage.

Sitting in the front row means my eyes are fixed on Him.  

Alzheimer's...Just the facts

Almost 2/3’s of Americans with Alzheimer’s


disease are women…

Anyone with a brain is at risk for Alzheimer's.

Alzheimers.org


...On March 26, 2013 I lost my mother to Alzheimer's,

she was only 73 years old.


Mom is really sitting in the front row today !

I can't wait to see her again!




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All My Grammy's Books

2/25/2015

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“The Ox Cart Man” where can you be…beneath the
piles before me or hiding near my knee?
Six eyes line the window, hazel and brown, wonder
of wonders a bag full of books has just been found.

Here she comes our teacher grammy…could it be the
“Good Night Moon” or “Free Fall” from leaves high in a tree?

Tiny fingers hold tight the chairs propped looking up
the driveway, just twenty minutes longer the day
still bright reminds me. “Hello Red Fox” says Eric Carle,
 as she enters with a bell “The Polar Express”
has her excited this story she has to tell.

Oh joy she longs to share as they sit upon the couch
“Roxaboxen” or “Green Eggs and Ham” if you please,
our "Mama s not a Llama" they laugh and tease.

Their cat comes up beside them as she reads
“Cats here, cats there, cats and kittens everywhere”
while fingers touch her necklace dangling with
white beads.

Oh for such a time as this she loved them through
and through “Blueberries for Sal”, “Make Way for
Ducklings”, “One Morning in Maine” and “Time of
Wonder” the cover written in gold and blue.

For your inquiring, enchanted mind she wrote in
’89, moon snails and spiders are very similar you
know for “Chickens Aren’t the Only Ones” where eggs are made to grow.

The funny ones we love “There’s a Nightmare in My Closet” peeping and nestled
on the blankets edge “The Napping House” breaks not my bed when everyone is
sleeping.

Should it end not there for further on she goes and
here she comes again with Lewis in tow.
By far a favorite each summer stuffed in her big black purse,
the chronicles of Narnia where Prince Caspian is
known to say “I don’t like running away” come jumping off the page.

Yet in another pocket she reveals something new
“The Island of The Blue Dolphin” is torn and tattered too.

She knits you all a snowflake and gives you each
a kiss while her face is singing sagas of the Sacketts’
in the west, L’Mours’ historical fictions are sitting on her chest.

Her shelves appear disordered some would even say a mess,
but hands reach out to touch them her books above her desk.

She signed everyone one she gave you each child
received her best, a scripture to remind them how
wonderfully they’re blessed.

Once asked a person wisely does anyone perceive how
much she loves those written words books “A” to “Z”?

Most worshiped within her soul the one the Lord Himself holds.
She prays the words He’s written with each of you in mind,
​ each one that He has given her His glory may they find...
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The New England Holocaust Memorial
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Musher/Dog Sled Races

2/21/2015

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Musher, Dog Sled Race
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#FourParkway

1/27/2015

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Four Parkway


A child’s book about a family of osprey birds.
by Barbie DelCamp



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#Photography #-6degrees #JustThinking

1/14/2015

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I once had a man insult me to my face about my camera. He held in his hands a very expensive Nikon. My own camera is a low end beginner Nikon 3100, it’s not what pros and real photographers use.  He was actually right in his flippant and off handed comment but for a different reason, then I was only using the “P” or program section of my instrument.  I wasn’t even close to having the understanding of photography that I have today.  Camera knowledge doesn’t guarantee a good picture but it is helpful.

As I look back to that time (1 ½ yrs ago) I see how I have grown, yet I still use my original gem. I say that because I am accustom to my camera, it has become my second Wilson, my first Wilson was when I bought myself an IPhone for my 50th birthday six years ago.

Photographers, like all cultures, are an interesting group of people. I don’t hang with them, lunch with them, or have coffee with them. I do “run” into them in the morning, at noon and in the evening. We are all over the place. We are on the web, social media, and in magazines.  Photographers navigate all forms of communication to establish themselves as “bona fide” artists.

This morning I met one such photographer, Benjamin Williamson, he is well entrenched in the state of Maine as a fine art photographer. He has gotten a lot of positive feedback on FB. He sells his well thought out and beautifully composed pictures. I have looked at his earlier work and I can see his progress. That is a good thing. As I have said before on other blogs, it is a craft of perseverance and challenge. This young man taught me a new word this morning; it was “snapper.” I am not rooted in the “insiders” language and I had never heard that one. A snapper is a person who snaps pictures with no tripod or additional equipment; such was I until a few months ago. I can proudly say I am no longer a “snapper.”

I have been waking up quite early lately and this morning was no exception. At 4:30 am I got up, dressed, and headed out to watch the sunrise. I was hoping that there would be some arctic fog because I haven’t yet tried to take pictures in that environment. There was fog everywhere! The temperature was -6 as I jumped out of my Jeep. When things are looking super for photography I can hardly stand it, my brain can’t keep up I get so enthused.  There was a lighthouse, fog, water, rocks, sky, birds and boats this caused a strain on my self-diagnosed attention deficit. Still I had a superb morning and as I looked over my pictures I can see where I could improve and do things differently.

I am loving it!


#Photography #-6degrees #JustTHinking

Lighthouse.jpg Dawn.jpg
-6 Degrees

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#Israel #TheFrenchTragedy #JustThinking

1/12/2015

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Recently my younger brother, who I am very proud of, went on a trip to Israel. My brother did not go as a tourist but as a business man. During his time in Israel and between meetings he was treated by his hosts to some spectacular sightseeing, some of which gripped his heart. When he returned home he called me to tell me how he now understood my love for this country. He said the people and hospitality showed to him was extraordinary

My brother went as a VIP and I’ve no doubt he was treated as such.

 My husband and I went several years ago as simple tourists and we too were treated with genuine respect and warmness. That’s just Israel. Unlike other places in the world that may snub or treat tourists rudely, Israelis are the
“crème de la crème. “

 On our trip to Israel we took several day excursions in small buses to see the historical sites. We drove each day with different tour directors and different people from all walks of life. Some were Jews, some Muslims, some business people, some families and some, like us, who were on a spiritual journey. Our trip to Israel from the moment we stepped on the plane was non-stop in discovery and wonder. It was profound. So much, in fact, that we hope to return and one day, God willing, to live there.

 My brother’s recent trip and our conversations have drawn me back to the pictures that we took and to the memories that I have. Those memories are not just about the awesome sights but are more about the people we met and visited with. It's as though they are my souls’ best friends. Drivers and cabbies, tour directors, store owners and doormen all took the time to tell us “their” story. Some were tragic yet filled with hope and the miracle of love. One such story was told to us by a cab driver who had been a Jew in Poland during WW2. He was a child of the woods, hunted by the Nazis. His rescue and the appreciation that ensued were infinite as was his devotion to his country, Israel.

 We had tour directors who were each as smart and witty as the next. One was an MIT graduate and retired, but giving tours kept him sharp and connected. His run was to Masada or ‘Metzada Fortress’ a location so rich in history and controversy that it would take days to understand. Masada sits overlooking the Dead Sea and it is spectacular! From Masada’s high vantage point in the desert a person can see for miles.
On one of our tours our driver was a Muslim. Our female tour guide that day was a Jew turned Christian or as she referred to herself a “Messianic Jew.” Now that is quite the thing.  My husband sat for a long time visiting with her in the church building built over where Jesus had lived in Israel. What the world doesn’t let you know is that there are many Jews and Muslims that get along. In cities and hillsides you can identify occupants by the roof tops (Jewish red and Muslim black) you can tell much about a community. There are obvious red areas but there are many places where a mix of houses is very apparent.

 Now a Jew who is Christian may surprise people. That is no different than a Buddhist, or Hindu or even a Muslim becoming a Christian. Christianity is not about being a Catholic, a Baptist or a Methodist. Christianity is always when a person accepts Jesus into their life as Lord, God Savior and Redeemer. We accept that He took our penalty for sin. He paid it all and became as sin. As Christians, we become willing to also turn from sin and live a life pleasing to God. Anyone is welcome to join the club! All are invited, no matter what their background. Let’s not forget Jesus was a Jew, from the line of David, which also tracks all the way back to Abraham.


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Masada.jpg
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Gethsemane.jpg looking towards the Old City Jerusalem from Gethsemane
On our tour to Old Jerusalem and the Western Wall we enjoyed the company of a man from the states. As we were heading through the old city gates there were people checking our bags with dark colored skin? The gentleman we were visiting with questioned who they were; I explained that they were Ethiopian Jews.  I jokingly said “Solomon? Queen of Sheba?”  It clicked for him too. The first mass wave of return from Ethiopia was called ‘Operation Moses’ the second was called ‘Operation Solomon.’ The history of the ‘right of return’ is a fascinating one. It’s as though some omnipotent voice is saying “come home.” The ‘right of return’ or ‘law of return’ was established by the Israelis Parliament in 1950 just two years after it became a state. It is a welcome to all Jews across the world to become citizens of Israel.  If you know your history you will recall the Assyrian and Babylonian invasion. There are some who say that the Assyrians were in many ways the first Nazi, cruel beyond measure towards the Jew. The tactics used by the Assyrians are attested to by the ancient cuneiform inscriptions. The nation was dispersed and eventually the Hebrew people were all over the world and without a homeland. The Old Testament is rich in historical reference about that era. The last verse in Nahum has this to say about Assyria;
 “Everyone who hears the news about you claps his hands at your fall, for who has not felt your endless cruelty?”

 On one of our days in Israel my husband and I went for a long walk in Tel Aviv. We stopped at a store and had a very lively visit with a Jewish man named Rubin. Rubin was originally from Iran. He was supremely optimistic about Americas unwavering support for his country. We talked about how from our point of view that support was dwindling because of academia’s ignorance and their rewriting of history. We also talked about the geopolitical state of the world. He told us that in spite of our opinions about Americas support for Israel that our country wasn’t even close to being as anti-Semitic as Europe and specifically France.

 I was reminded of this conversation as I watched gripped and horrified like most people to the recent news and the terrible massacre by Islamic terrorists in Paris. I found myself paying very close attention to the hostage situation that followed when a Jewish Deli was taken over by one of those terrorist. To the credit of one Muslim man who worked at the deli several hostages were protected by him in a freezer. Which (like my relating that Muslims and Jews live in peace in many Israelis communities) is a witness to humanity that differences don’t always require hate.

In listening to the news account just after the terrorist was taken and the living hostages were freed, I was in tears. I heard an announcer say that the Israel TV reporters had gone into the deli to care for its people. It was said in passing and without fanfare, but I heard it. I wept as I thought about how Israelis believe in life first, above all things. As soon as they were able, the Israeli TV broadcasters' calling wasn’t to report, but to care for its dead, its injured and those who had been traumatized. That’s just who they are. Mercy and love come before the story.
“I will bless those who bless you and I will curse those who curse you.”

May the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob protect and keep the state of Israel ever close to Himself and May God’s will be done.


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January 08th, 2015

1/8/2015

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#Photography #LightHouse.jpg

1/5/2015

2 Comments

 
As I drove this morning over to an ionic Lighthouse to take pictures at dawn, I
grew excited traveling across a local bridge and seeing the beauty of the sky.
When I arrived well before daybreak, I noticed a slew of cars and a half
dozen photographers who seemed to have their territories staked out. Each of
them had all their gear, tripods, filters, and mega cameras. For this
photographer there was a momentary hesitation as I pulled my bootstraps up
and jumped out of our Jeep. Honestly, not since I watched the Westminster
dog show on TV, or attended the Red Sox baseball game, have I seen equipment
like that all in one place. I was a bit intimidated. It’s only been a few months
since I’ve grown comfortable with using a tripod regularly and shooting 99% of
the time in manual. That’s a lot of progress and I was about to show it off.
Not that fast, though. These men were hunkered down in the best locations at
the Lighthouse, and they were not about to be giving up any space for me.
If you have read any of my other blogs you would know that I am not a
feminist or a man basher. I rather enjoy being treated like a lady, but I am
not above a good challenge or hard work. 
This past summer I would camp out for literally hours, watching an osprey
nest. I would go for whatever spare time I could... I even built a small area
under a tree to protect myself from the sun. My “gone fishing” summer with
birds was pure delight. Every time a bird soared into the sky I thought my
own soul would jump out of my body, heaven bound. One evening as I was
standing near the ocean with my camera, watching, and waiting for the
juvenile birds feeding time, I heard a sound nearby. As I looked, a man and
woman approached with their cameras. He had the biggest camera I think I’ve
ever seen, hers was quite impressive too. They had them mounted on tripods
and both of these strangers even dressed their cameras in camouflage. Pretty
cool! Mine was held in my hands as I leaned over the water balancing
myself...it was also set to auto, as I was clueless about manual, then.
We struck up a conversation as the man helped the woman, showing her how
to adjust her speed and f-stop. I gathered he was a kind photographer mentor.
I suggested they move closer to where I was to get better pictures.  I jokingly
said, “are you from National Geographic?" and she said he was. No way! She
then repeated herself assuring me that he was with National Geographic. We
talked about their travels that day and the other wildlife they had seen. They
introduced themselves but I didn’t catch their names. He did offer me his
business card, which I declined. I didn't really get it... really, National Geographic?
I went home that night and looked up all of their photographers: the one whose picture resembled this man was named Steve McCurry.
I would love to see the pictures they shot that day!
So back to my original thoughts…Today the high ground at the Lighthouse was
all taken by the “big dogs”, their prime property claimed. I moved down to the
beach low ground, near the rocks and water. They were somewhat in my line
of view and I had to adjust my lens to keep them out of the frame. I had fun
playing with motion and space. I was able to watch them from my vantage
point. I saw their very serious endeavors to catch “the best” photograph EVER!
When I was done I waved to a woman who stood near the path I was on.
She wasn’t all geared up but she’d been enchanted by the sunrise and had a
handheld camera. I then moved up to where “the guys” were. One
elderly gentleman (with a Patriots hat on) smiled at me as we began
conversing. I asked about his lens filters and fancy equipment. He was sweet and
shared generously.  The others moved to and fro, as though it was not a
common morning sunrise but “their” sunrise.
I found myself needing to check my own ego, throw it out into the ocean and
thank the good Lord above for another beautiful day and for His gift of wonder.


2 Comments

#Christianity #Grief #Alzheimer's #Photography

1/4/2015

4 Comments

 
Sheep.jpg
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Sheep.jpg

Christianity,Grief,Eternity, JustThinking&Photography



I wonder about my mom. As a Christian, I don't believe in actually talking to her,
but I ask Jesus to hug her and to let her know I'm thinking about her.
I contemplate what deaths’ LIFE must be like. Knowing and seeing as she must
see today. Is she smiling... waiting for when we show up? Is she visiting with
her own mother and sister?
There are many things that remain a mystery for me.
I'm not ignoring death. After we die it’s a long, long time. Death is but 
step into eternity, its everlasting. So I think about it. My death, or leaving
this life, will be far longer than the days I have walked this world. I'd better
think about it, prepare for it and get ready.   It's not going to be just a short
vacation, followed by my return home. Eternity and heaven will be my new
permanent home. It's nothing to be flip about.

My husband and I talk often about how much time people spend planning here
on earth. which is so fleeting compared to the concept of forever. Yet, many
people hardly anticipate dying until; sadly, it's too late to think about it. Some
say it is morbid. What is morbid about awesomeness? Or God? Everything

here is about practicing for the real deal...or SHOULD be. We are ambassadors
to the King who has gone to prepare a place for us: a home. Much as I like
my house, I'm quite sure that the one the King is working on is going to be
really nice.

 Heaven, beyond my imagination...

I miss my mom terribly, but I can't help but be more than a little jealous.

"Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
 O what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God, 
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood. "

Mom is now living in that assurance; she is living her inheritance and in the
presence of glory divine.



4 Comments

Grand Central Station

12/23/2014

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GrandCentralStation.jpg
"Excuse me but we don't allow people to use tripods here at

Grand Central Station..."

Thus, a conversation ensued after the Mac salesman at the station managed to politely embarrass me.

I have never been to Grand Central Station. On a recent trip to New York City, my daughter and I went for dinner. How did I miss it before? It is a wonderful place and we really enjoyed people watching, eating and taking pictures. My daughter, Tracy, took some cool photos.

But here I was again: back at the station, early in the morning just like a photographer jonesing , while she slept in.

I used my tripod the night before and I had already used it that morning for about an hour, (mind you, many in security passed me by without a word). I was told by the salesman that I could use my camera but not my tripod because "We couldn't possibly allow a bunch of people to obstruct the areas with tripods." I had been moving gently and respectfully, being careful to not bump into people rushing by.

We were in New York City for 2 days. We traveled from Times Square to Wall Street to The 911 Memorial up 5th Ave across Broadway, Park and Madison. We walked through Rockefeller Center and around Central Park. We rode the hop on hop off bus and drank coffee while smiling at horse drawn carriages. During that entire time people bumped us taking their selfie s, we had to move, go around and avoid many who were as enamored and excited as us to be there. People abruptly stopped, they looked up and took pictures.

Once... count it, ONCE... I saw another tripod. So it's not like a crowd of tripod users flock New York City!

As a photographer, I was proud of myself to finally have had the sense to bring my travel tripod. Taking pictures of moving traffic, people on the run and flashing lights scream for this 3 legged piece of equipment.

In this day and age everyone has a camera, everyone is a photographer. But for some of us, it's like an adrenalin rush. It's not even always the picture it's what happens in the process. Observing, noticing surrounding details, people, movement, lights, the street cart vendors cooking, sights of steam and color all make for mental overload that drives a photographer to stay with it. Getting a great picture is really so fleeting that if it were not for the thrill of the process there would be no photographers. It's burdensome and cumbersome, having to keep equipment with you or anticipating where to stand, stop and look. It's not a couple's sport and it can be quite competitive. That's why never losing our perspective and love for the craft must always remain an artist’s drive.

I did take down my tripod; so as to not make trouble at Grand Central Station…fortunately I had already taken several of those “ionic” shots.

God Bless the families of Officers Rafael Romas & Wen Jian Liu
&
God Bless the NYPD





 

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ChristmasWreaths & WreathsAcrossAmerica

12/19/2014

0 Comments

 
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#Alzheimer's #Looking in the Mirror

11/20/2014

7 Comments

 
While on vacation recently my husband and I took a “selfie” of the two of us with my camera. Afterward, as I looked at the picture…there staring back at me was my mom, my aunt and my grandmother. No, really it was them! I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. Laugh, because it was so funny to see them there on the beach with us. Cry, because I look like them as elderly women.

As I have mentioned in other blogs, all three died from Alzheimer’s and related complications. Sal, my grandmother, was in her late 80’s while Mom and Aunt Donna Rae were in their early 70’s.

My mother witnessed both her mother and sister fade away from Alzheimer’s. Mom and Dad drove from Maine to Pennsylvania regularly while Sal was in the hospital, until her death. After Gram died, they began their sojourn back and forth every weekend to Connecticut to see my aunt.  Mom started buying small angel figurines, which she would then bring to her sister. Mom would also write out verses from the book of Psalms and hang or put them around her sister during her last days. Aunt Donna Rae loved the book of Psalms!

Mom watched and knew what Alzheimer’s can do to a person.

Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s 15 months before she died. By the time she was told she had this horrible illness she was past the point of understanding. Prior to her diagnosis, Dad and I knew something was wrong.  Dad had her repeatedly seeing doctors who said she did not have Alzheimer’s but rather, Primary Progressive Aphasia.

Dave, my husband, and I were with Mom and Dad when their doctor at the Lahey Clinic gave them “the news.” Mom was actually elated to find out she did not have Primary Progressive Aphasia. She never heard or grasped that she had Alzheimer’s. What bliss and grace God extended to her.

Mom was in the habit throughout her ongoing memory loss of saying “When I get better.” Mom thought she was going to get better until the very end. That was her supreme optimism at work. It was because of her sense of hope and faith that Mom was able to bless her family and friends until her death from Alzheimer’s.

I write all of this because I wanted to remind myself and others of how wonderful Mom was. She was cute in personality, she was gracious and loving towards others, she was overflowing in joy, and she was a woman of faith. Mom knew her Savior lived and that he would never leave her. I write this also because I now struggle with my own unknown fate. I know that, like Mom, the days of my life are held in the Lord’s hands, yet I have days in which I ponder “Will I, to come down with this progressive disease against my brain and mind?” It is easier for me to casually joke it off, make fun of it, but just beneath the surface it rests like a bag of stones.  It nags at me, telling me to get my own house in order, to let Dave know how I do things, organize the drawers, the closets, the bills and make sure he knows where everything is and how to do all the things, I am charged with doing in our home. What if I wake up one day and I don’t know that I don’t know.

That is Alzheimer’s. You don’t even know that you don’t know.

Mom was all the things I mentioned, but she was also academic, educated, smart and witty. We enjoyed many conversations about Biblical history, prophets and just what is the Trinity, The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit? Does The Holy Spirit reside in our minds? (Romans 8:5-8) How does God speak to us? What must heaven be like? Who is the latest deceiver in the world? How does the Old Testament lead up to the New Testament? What have you found in the Bible today that reveals who God is? Mom and I talked often, mostly about God. We were girls of research and shared discoveries.   She was so heavy and deep sometimes I couldn’t follow her. At other times she was so childlike that I couldn’t follow her either. Her kindergarten teacher persona was way over my head!

It is the mind that I fear losing…Surrendering my mind to God is my hardest task. I love to think, to process, to analyze and to know. This is where I begin my reasoning, it is where I recall, remember and deliberately consider God, people and form words of prayer. Yet the intellect can only comprehend the things of God it cannot fully seize them. God is knowable through His Son and through His word and the illumination of The Holy Spirit, but God is still God and greater than anything I could possible fully wrap my perception around. Still, like my mother, I love to set my mind on understanding.

But when it’s all said and done all that matters is that I belong to Christ. He will see me through. I know this because I witnessed Him carry Mom to the very end. In Christ alone… not my mind, not my understanding, not my knowledge, not my consciousness, not my experience…He is the rock, the cornerstone and the fullness in time to the glory of God.

This chick went almost unnoticed by me. It moved so fast, was so tiny and outsmarted my every move. This is a baby Jacana, also known as the "Jesus bird" because these birds look as though they are walking on water. (This picture was taken at a bit of distance)
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7 Comments

#FallFoliage #Autumm

10/12/2014

0 Comments

 

Fall Foliage

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Little Chatham Rd West Fryeburg Click to connect to more fallfoliage.jpg pictures
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#Alzheimer's #Dignity #Just Thinking

9/27/2014

1 Comment

 

Dignity

Lately I have been contemplating the word “dignity”, it may be because I have also been thinking about my mom. In thinking about her I feel a bit lonely, I miss her unconditional love. By “unconditional love” I don’t mean to misrepresent that she approved of all of my behavior or actions, but I knew that no matter what she loved me. That’s just the way a mother is. I love words and so did mom. We both felt/feel that words had meaning. She was good at games and playing with funny ways to say words. “Pig Latin” was her all-time favorite and she did it better than anyone I knew. “Pig Latin”, for those who don’t know, is when you take the first letter of a word and put it at the end. Mom could rattle off full sentences and oh how she laughed at herself.

As I think about the word dignity I have reflected at how important it was for us to uphold mom’s dignity as her Alzheimer’s took her mind. The word is often associated with death and dying, and rightfully so, but it is an immense word with tremendous meaning.

What does it mean to show or give dignity and what does it mean to have dignity?

Dignity: decorum, decency, respectability, self-respect, poise, honor, character, worthiness, virtue and grace. Dignity meaning: bearing, conduct, or speech indicative of self-respect or appreciation of formality or gravity of an occasion or situation.

My mother had dignity and she gave it to others. Perhaps one must have it in order to give it…

The Bible doesn’t have many references to the word dignity but it most certainly infers it over and over again. In the 10 commandments we see that dignity is directly associated with honor. In the first 4 commandments God shows us how to honor and love Him but in the 5th commandment we are told to; “honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God is giving you.” The rest of the commandments show us how to love and honor others. There is an infinite amount of reverence in the commandments.

We give dignity to others when we show them respect. We give dignity to others when we show them honor. We give dignity when we are self- controlled in our behavior and words. We give dignity to others when we poise ourselves in proper decorum, conduct and grace. We give dignity when we pour ourselves out in sacrificial love.

Jesus had dignity. He was and is worthy of all honor, praise and glory. Yet when Jesus was on this earth He had no appearance of dignity, in fact while there are beautiful descriptions of God in majesty in the Bible none of them are attributed to Jesus as He walked on earth. (Many have conjured up false images of Jesus with no Biblical truth.) Jesus the Redeemer that was seen and known while he was here is best described by the prophet Isaiah:

“Just as there were many who were appalled at him- his appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any man and his form marred beyond human likeness” Isaiah 52:14

“He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces, he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” Isaiah 53:2b-3

Dignity is not what we look like it is our character, our essence. I’d go so far as to say it is in part our joyful eternity in Christ. The Lord Jesus revealed the way to dignity also in Isaiah when He declares:

“Because the Sovereign Lord helps me I will not be disgraced. Therefore I set my face like a flint, and I know I will not be put to shame. He who vindicates me is near.” Isaiah 50:7-8b

The Holy One had confidence in the Father, his words reflected his everlasting trust and shield. Jesus knew who He was; He knew what was being asked of Him by the Father. We would be wise to know ourselves who we are in Christ, what is being asked of us and to stand in truth and dignity no matter what.

Nine days before I lost my mother I wrote this…

“Sometime love is marred beyond recognition…It is here where we come to understand that true love has no boundaries.”

Though I no longer really recognized Mom in terms of her personality (Alzheimer's),  I  still knew her to be my mom. I knew what and who she lived her life for. Mom taught me so much, she stood strong in spite of her environment, the world’s evolving immorality, the disappearance of family values and others dismissal of her Christianity. She was a woman of great dignity.

Since her death I have sorted out many things in my own life. There was a time when dignity was not an aspiration. There was a time when I had no need to self-reflect on what personal character was. There was a time when walking with God was but a causal thought, not an embraced effort. There was a time when if I was hurt by others treatment of me I’d lash out, become a victim. There was a time when I cried for hours because my own perspective was blurred and my conduct was unbecoming. Dignity had no meaning; truth, a plural word not an adherence to conviction and believe.

There were times when prior to her Alzheimer’s mom occasionally slipped into loneliness and depression. I understand it better today. The world is a lonely place, people do not extend honor and grace naturally. Dignity is a forgotten noun. Pride is on the rise…


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