Where did our childhood go?

Exactly one day and seven hours ago my son James was walking across the stage receiving his diploma from high school. It was a bittersweet moment for me, because on one hand I am so proud of him, but on the other hand it is a red letter day marking the end of his childhood which makes me really sad. I don't have anymore little ones following behind him, he is my one and only, besides my six wonderful step children who all went before him. So, in this moment, I am taking some time to reflect on just what it means to lose our childhood.

I remember it like it was yesterday growing up in Puerto Rico on a military base where my father was stationed. It was one of those places that seemed magical to a child, filled with whimsical playgrounds, matinee movies, and with every holiday a reason to have a parade. I remember vividly the mango trees that lined the sidewalks and as we played and loss track of time, our hunger would be satiated simply by grabbing a big one of the tree and pigging out. I can't imagine any better place to grow up, except for the 42 acres around my grandparents house where I did most of my growing.

I often daydreamed a lot when I was a kid and actually had a teacher write on one of my report cards, 'daydreams a lot'. Isn't that what being a child is all about? Gazing off into our imaginations, the ones God created, and soaring into another world of beautiful watercolor ponies or rainbow colored trees dripping with sugared tulips you could eat? Oh, how I miss those moments when being a child was our only concern, our 'work' per say, where we were free to simply be and play, create and build, dream and wonder about the world we live in and the worlds we wished we did.
I'm not sure why God created us to realize the beauty of childhood only when it has slipped through our fingers, it is a conversation I hope to have with him. Quite possibly he knew that if we understood just how precious childhood is, we may never have been willing to grow up, into adulthood, and honestly many of us haven't, for the most part. (At least I hope I haven't.)

Part of getting ready for James's big day was creating a DVD slideshow of his journey to graduation. I pulled the bags of pictures I had sorted and labeled last summer and painstakingly began pulling out the pics I thought would fit him best. It was a beautiful reminder of how precious his life has been to me, and how precious he is as my son. From the moment he came into this world we took pictures. Gazing into his beautiful face we saw how much potential he had and began praying that his life would be blessed. Throughout his early years there were those pictures of him with wild hair, messy faces, chubby cheeks, and those oh so candid shots of his wild spirit refusing to mold to the status quo. It is those pictures I love the most, the ones that captured his true self through the lens. These pictures took me back to moments I had long forgotten. Ones that were truly what life was meant to be like, surrounded by family and friends, but most of all love.

And in that I realize just what childhood was supposed to be to all of us, a time for unconditional love. God places children in our lives to be treasured, to be enjoyed, and most of all to be loved. I fear that so many of us hurry through the pace of our lives with so much stress that we miss the very moments God places in our paths to be enjoyed. I can't tell you what I would give to turn back the clock and be able to hold my son in my lap and read him another bed time story of Curious George, or let him take his shoes off and play in the mud despite being in clothes that would stain. Those moments for me are gone, like chasing the coattails of priceless memories, but never really catching up to them. And although I keep a childlike spirit within me, as does James, I can never get those precious moments back can I? So what to do with this realization? Tell those of you who still have children in your lives to stop what you are doing, pick your child up and find some reason to laugh with them, play with them, get the play-doh out or by all means, PAINT with them or turn Facebook off and go blow bubbles with them. Actively LOVE them so they will never spend a moment doubting if they were loved or not. But most of all, hug them and tell them how much you love them. Never underestimate the power of a hug and the words "I Love You" in your child's life. You simply will never get those moments back and the more of them you can build with your children, the more of them you will have to look back on and know they were loved, that you did your job well with them.

I believe God has a special place in his heart for children. Those times I feel closest to him I picture myself as a child in his lap, not as an adult, and there is great comfort in that. James is now on his way into adulthood and I am proud of the young man he has become. He will always be my squirt, my sweet little fellow who loved to pinch my cheeks and make the Chubbis laugh and I will always see him as that. But as he grows into adulthood I pray he takes with him the wonder and imagination he had as a child, the one God created in him, because it is in that, that makes our adult lives worth living, and allows us to once again, find our childhood. And in finding our childhood, it just might help some of us find a pathway to be closer to God.

Wrestling with our Insignificance

I've been feeling insignificant lately. When I say that to people they looked kind of stunned, like I've lost my mind, but honestly that's exactly how I feel at times. See, for me, I completely get that God is significant, but wrapping my little fingers around the thought that I am is a whole other ball of wax. So, today, after therapy, (yes I go to therapy and highly suggest you consider it) I realized I had to deal with this issue, because it's been like a monkey on my back that drives me to distraction.

My life has not been dull, if anything that is an understatement. I have had my share of horrific life experiences, physical issues have been unrelenting, and the emotional skeletons in my closet have had a hay day anytime I open the door. Despite all of that I have somehow managed to live a pretty decent life and have been thankful for all that God has blessed me with. So why the issue of insignificance here? For starters, I keep saying to myself, "Why would anyone care what thoughts or words I have, and why would they matter?" and then I would follow with " I must have lost my mind to think anything I have lived through would mean a hill of beans to anyone else" ( see the pattern here?) Oh, the self-doubt and talk are quiet telling. What's even more telling is that my conversations with God have been like, "Ardith, you are too hard on yourself, I love you, come get a hug, I created you unique like no other, hello, you do matter." Yet, for all of what I hear him say I still at times give into the notion that I am totally insignificant. Hmph! What gives?
So, I gave this more thought and asked God to show me what I need to get here and this is what he said. "It's time to read the book of Job, Ardith." Eeeeekkk! I have avoided that book like the plague. I read it a long time ago, and know all about his story, but it wasn't one I wanted to dive in to because I was hoping and praying God wasn't saying to me that I had to walk down Job's path to get his point across. I'm standing here going "Hello, OK, I get this, can we call a truce, I give it all to you and I go on to live a happy life?" Oh if it were that easy.
As I began to read I quickly realized that there was more to this than Job just losing everything, putting total faith in God, and then getting it all back. Job had to understand that he actually was "insignificant" in relation to God's significance.

Job 40:4 (Job says) "Behold, I am insignificant; what can I reply to thee? I lay my hand on my mouth, Once I have spoken, and I will not answer, Even twice and I will add no more.

Job wasn't saying here, Oh God, I'm a mess, even though I have lived a good life, I really don't matter much do I?" What he is saying here is that you, the almighty God are the significant one and in you I am significant as well. Do you think he thought for a minute, while he was walking through pure hell, that his story would be important and God would use it for his glory? I doubt that. I have a feeling Job was stunned, not quite understanding why he was being afflicted and made to suffer, and trying his best to make some sense of it. In the end, what he did was remarkable. He truly placed his total faith in God and gave him the glory. Look at what his story has done thousands of years later. Look at how God made the story of Job SO significant!

This was quite a revelation for me. I had been feeling insignificant, which in reality I alone am, but in the eyes of God, I am just as important as my neighbor to him and my story, like yours, is significant as well. And how can I apply this to my five minute walk in this world? It gets interesting here. With every breathe I take, despite my mood, my feelings, my circumstances, if I honestly walk with God in those minutes, he will use them for a significant purpose. His significance makes me significant. How about that! And then I look back at Job and realize what he lost, what he lived through, and what he learned. He lost his family, his wealth, his health, and on and on. Looking back at my life, and I am in no way saying I have suffered like Job, I have dealt with being a crime victim, a victim of sexual assault, a victim of auto mobile accidents, a victim of poor health, a victim of substance abuse,a victim of divorce, a victim of depression, a victim, victim, victim. I have lost a lot, but it all doesn't matter if I am not willing to say that despite it all my faith is in God and he alone is worthy of my praise. It also won't help me one bit if I get on my pitty pot about being a victim and pitch a royal fit. Will it change one thing? Not... so then I begin seeing the lesson God wants me to learn in this, that in him I am significant. He wants me to see that my circle of influence goes way past what I actually see and comprehend, so being willing to first understand that and second trust that he knows way more than me is why putting total faith in him is vital.
I wish I could say that this ends the lesson but it doesn't. As I drove home today I realized how far back the insignificant feelings go for me, all the way back to age five, and I realize there will be work to do on this subject. What I at least know for today is that the gifts God has given me are all significant in him, he will use them if I choose to give them to him, and he will move mountains if I am willing to simply kick the first rock down the hill. We all have our gifts don't we? We all are really good at some things. So my question to you is this? Are you willing to cave into the idea that you are insignificant and don't matter, or are you willing to consider that in God, your gifts, or acts, or kind words, may be the very ones that could totally change the life of another person, and bring them closer to God? Something to think about isn't it?

My Angel of Light

These are a few of the steps I took in painting this angel. If you are on Facebook you can see all ten.



It's been a long week, a long month, a long six months if I really stop and think about it. So much has happened that it would take me pages to write about all of it, so I am going to pluck out a small snippet to share here. In the meantime, I have been thinking about matters of the heart lately and talking to God about this. We have some more chatting to do, but my next post will be discussing that, "How alive are we?" I want to make sure I'm getting the big picture before I rattle off here, so come back next week if you are interested.

In the meantime I have finished a new painting, the first one in over a year. What is significant about this painting is how I got the idea, and how I was able to actually paint her. For the last few months I have been dealing with a lot of crazy as nut medical issues, most that can't be explained, and with a spine that is deteriorating at record pace. Last October I had my spine fused, and now, it appears, there are problems with it again. Ugh, I find myself thinking, "Will it ever end?" One night, a few weeks ago I was in horrific pain. It was worse than normal, and I had no idea how I would make it through the night. I knew I had plenty of morphine and other meds, but I am trying so hard not to take any medicine that fogs my brain or my emotions. Pain meds are a big problem there. So, I lay there and began talking to God about this and asking him how on Earth I would make it through the night without coming unglued. The next thing I knew a picture of this angel was placed in front of me, with a light shining from her brighter than anything I had ever seen. At first I thought I was dreaming, then I thought, did I take my meds? too many meds? No, it was just a picture placed in my mind. God said to me, give me your pain and take this angel as a comfort, her light will help you in times of pain. Hmph! How strange, but I've learned lately that strange things having to do with God lately are really good things, so I embraced the image and believe it or not made it through the night.

The next few days she stayed with me though, and I knew I had to paint her. What I didn't know is how I would do it. I can't sit for longer than five minutes without being in horrific pain. I can't stand longer than that before my right leg goes completely numb. If I push it and do any of these things, I regret it and have to take meds to function. Not a happy place for me. So, I asked God to help me do this, because I knew she was important. For the past week or so I worked on her. Some days I could only paint in five minute blocks, because between that I would lay on the bed and ache. Other days, I would work and then be sick as a dog because I had a stomach virus. I questioned if I had lost my mind or not, but then knew to turn right back to God and let him help me through this. He is good at that, when we really let go and let him help us. And, after about a week I had my angel painted. It is not my best work, but it's my most important work to date, because this image came from God, not me. As I was studying the next morning he lead me to the bible verse of:

Isaiah 60:`1 Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord is upon you.

Ahhhh, what a revelation that was. Not only did this angel have a light that came directly from God's love and healing power, but I realized we each carry that same light in us, in different degrees. I can't explain why he chose to share this angel with me, but I am learning not to seek explanations in this walk, but to seek his grace instead. That's a totally new way of life, walking in his grace, with him, not his ideas or principles. So, the angel of light was created in this painting and at this point I'm not sure what to do with her. What I have gotten is that she may not be mine to keep. I was told by a cousin that she is a portal, that will bring others closer to God. That's an interesting concept for sure. All Iknow is she was given to me to help get me through a night of awful pain, and I think of all those of you out there that deal with pain on a daily basis. My heart aches for you, I wish I could do something to ease that pain for you, but I can't make it go away. What I can do is share this angel with you and promise you that God wants to walk with you through any journey that finds you, even if it is one riddled with pain. I am finding that it is in those journeys that God seeks us most often. I will be making prints of this one, she is meant to be shared I think. God's Peace friends, A

How Alive are We?

I've been thinking about the heart, our hearts, lately. This past March I was sent to the ER because I had sent a screwy signal in on my heart monitor. I had just gotten out of the hospital in Jan. with a really bad pneumonia, came off of a ton of medications, and now had to deal with a heart issue. After the doctor told me to go to the ER and have an EKG done I was fed up, didn't want to go, and actually debated it for about an hour. I told Bill, "Don't come down here, I am sure they will do this test and send me straight home, because all the other signals had turned out to be nothing." He reluctantly agreed and I walked into the ER alone. Within 2 minutes of them doing an EKG I had defibulator pads on and nurses and doctors everywhere. I asked one, "Should I call my family?" and of course she said yes. Ugh, I felt stupid. The next thing I knew they had to completely stop my heart and restart it. What an experience to not only humble you but get your attention. The details of the why aren't really important, the health of my heart was. Everything turned out ok, but it left me a bit shook up. I took it for granted that things were fine, that this was just another one of the weird body things I deal with at times. How foolish of me. Then I really got to talking with God about the whole thing and a few things came to mind. The health of my heart is important, but not just physically, spiritually as well.

How many of us are walking around with sick hearts? Sick from too much stress, too little love, from our hearts being beat to death by society or a skewed world view, or just simply from the bad habits we take on every day. This heart sickness is a problem, and one we can't ignore anymore. So when I realized this, I spent a good bit of time thinking about what makes my own heart sick, and that was a revelation.

My earliest memory that I can grasp my fingers around was when I was five. My brother walked into the kitchen and asked for a bowl of water, which my mom gave him without question, and a few seconds later we smelled smoke. I remember running into her bedroom and seeing the entire wall on fire. The next thing I knew my neighbor was holding me out front, my mom I'm sure was trying her best to put the fire out, and I was freaked out because I couldn't find my cat. The fire was bad enough, but my cat was the bigger issue. I loved this cat, her name was Fluffy, and when I was five she was my entire world. All I could think about was whether or not my cat was burning in the house. Eventually my neighbor found her and my world, though still shook up, was better.

Although our house was saved, the experience was difficult, but not nearly as upsetting as what happened next. I came home one day from school to find that my mom had given Fluffy away, without telling me. We had to fly to the states and couldn't bring the cat. Simply put, my heart was broken. That brokenness affected me deeply and I carried it with me for a long time. My little five year old brain just couldn't comprehend how this could happen and I developed a deep sadness that stuck within me like a tiny piece of glass that the eye missed each time. The wound was made and began to slowly, over a long period of time, begin to grow. That wound would be the foundation for lots more wounds, and lots more broken hearts in my life, but I wouldn't know that until just this year.

You see, my heart is broken again and again because life simply isn't fair. When I grew up believing it was, life set me up to be deeply wounded. The point to what I had realized is that those wounds I suffered as a child never healed, until I was willing to go back there and bring God with me. Only then, would I be able to heal that little heart, which set my adult heart up for healing too, because the two are always connected. I have lived through horrific life experiences, some that are shocking to understand how I am even walking the planet, but I am, and walking quite peacefully. For the longest time I went through the motions of life, going through a divorce, surviving it, wrestling with my understanding of God, and then having to deal with a ton of medical issues. The opportunity for my heart to get sick from this was quite real, and it took me hitting rock bottom for God to show me my heart was not only sick, but sick all the way back to when I was five. So the time span for my heart needing healing was wide, and long overdue.

I spent quite a lot of time working with a therapist to come to terms with this "heart sickness" and thank God he was willing to nudge me safely into bringing God into those dark places. It didn't occur quickly, and there are still some issues I am working through, but my heart healing is in progress, and my life will never be the same. And as I realized this I began to see the pain and broken hearts in the lives of my friends and family and strangers, and my heart breaks for them, but in a different way. As I write this a family just learned that their child has been sexually abused by someone they trusted, a military family has just received the news that their beloved son has been killed fighting for our country, and somewhere, alone in the dark, a young mother is sitting contemplating ending her life because she feels like a complete failure and the drug culture she lives in has turned her world upside down. Their hearts are broken aren't they? I wonder how many people out there are suffering lifelong wounds in their hearts but not understanding that God is the only way their hearts will heal completely. I wonder how many of us are angry, or depressed, or unwilling to love, because their hearts were wounded many years ago and those wounds are still alive and silently growing.

How is it that we are called by God to help heal the hearts of others, when our own hearts feel raw and torn up themselves? It's a puzzling issue at times, but I truly believe that those of us who manage to survive a life of challenging heart wounds, and God heals us, is given a great duty to share the healing with others, to give hope to the hopeless in this place. One way I am figuring out how to do this is through my art. The painting of my angel has lead many people to explain to me how their hearts are broken, and how the angel has given them hope. I had not one thing to do with that outcome, but God did. He used a gift he gave me, that I chose to use, and in turn reached out and helped heal the wounded hearts of others. I am truly humbled by this. So to my artist friends out there I challenge you to ask God what you might need to paint next, and then share your story of why you painted it with others. You might be blown away too, by the outcome. And to my friends and family who are walking around with deep wounds from a life of damage, I encourage you to ask God to go back there with you, take him into that place, and let him begin to heal that part of your heart. For without a healthy heart, we are not free to live, or love, or truly experience the love of God as it was intended.

“I guess when your heart gets broken you sort of start to see cracks in everything. I'm convinced that tragedy wants to harden us and our mission is never to let it.” anonymous

The Ardithian Way of Life

This is my stepson Brandon, the joy on his face says it all, embrace life, live joyfully!

This week has been interesting, to say the least. I have had to deal with teenage issues, anger issues, grief issues, body issues, mental health issues, financial issues, too many teeth issues, and on and on and on. But, the topic of joy has come up in several conversations, so I realized God had a lesson in this for me, and I didn't want to miss it. Joy and happiness are different concepts. Happiness is a feeling, connected to how a particular event is going, or not going. It changes like the wind, I feel happy because you...., you made me happy by......, get my point? But joy is a separate entity all together, and God talks about it's importance in his word. So, I spent some time praying and talking to him about joy and this is what he shared with me.
James 1:2-4
Consider it all joy my brethren when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance, and let endurance have its perfect result, that you may be perfect lacking in nothing.
Hmmm, joy in the midst of trials. It seems to go against our nature, but I knew he was making a bigger point here. God wants us to be victorious OVER our trials, not accepting of them. For me, this made my agreements issue quite obvious. I had made an agreement that I would be in pain the rest of my life, and that was easily stealing my joy. When those of us who endure chronic pain, unrelenting pain and sickness, it is easy to get overwhelmed and sucked in by the medical system and diagnosis codes, and we come to beleive this is who we are now. How wrong I was in this. Not only is pain or my medical issues not who I am, but I am not bound to them. They can only imprison me if I let them, and releasing them to God is cathartic.
He went on to show me Philippians 4:4
Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say rejoice!
He didn't say when I feel like it, he didn't say when I wasn't writhing in pain, he said ALWAYS, which is profound to me. There was a reason he was showing me rejoicing always was significant, and this is what he meant by that:
Nehamiah 8:10 .....Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.
Ahhhh, then I got it. I live in constant pain. Some days I can walk and breathe through it and other days I can barely make it to the bathroom. My anatomy is problematic, putting it mildly, and I am given morphine and other strong meds to try and get through my day, but I don't give in to that. God was telling me loud and clear that in my pain, my physical weakness, the joy I have in him will be what gives me strength. And strength comes in different forms.
I may not can bend, lift, or sit like most people and walking for lengths of time is a challenge, I lose my strength rather quickly. But, if I rest I can go on for a while. My spiritual strength is what is at stake here. The very nature of having an illness with the possible outcome of paralysis in both legs would zap anyones strength. Just wading through the medications, doctor appointments, and symptoms would make anyone throw in the towel. But, thanks to the abundant grace of God, he gives me joy, and it's contagious. Some of those days, too many I hate to say, where wrapped with a veil of despair, depression, like I couldn't even explain why I felt sad or empty, I just did. Even on the days I couldn't use 'happy' as an adjective I chose joy because at the end of the day I know in him I am well, whole, and holy. What a revelation! It's really about our joy, him desiring for us to be joyful, in him, despite the trials we are walking through. And what I have found that when I choose joy people notice it, my light is brighter to the point they ask me what's my secret. And I love telling them, even when I have to adjust my position a million times I take the time to tell them, because I see the lack of joy in my friends, my family, and on faces I see every day, it's a complete pandemic in our world.

And then I came back to the significance of each of us. I truly believe that it is not our insignificance we fear but our significance on a grander scale. God made each of us unlike any other. We each have the ability to change this world and glorify God if we choose to. The question is, will we embrace our significance in the bigger story that God is writing or will we hide behind our feelings of insignificance? Will we stay stuck in car pool, dance recitals, working long hours, or addicted to Facebook, and not realize that our destiny in this life is to live boldy, joyfully, through our trials and shine a bright light in this world? That light gets attention doesn't it? Guess what makes people attracted to bright lights? Luminosity, a light that glows. Within each of us we are luminous in varying degrees. I believe our joy is the power that illuminates our spirits, and it is why God said rejoice always, be luminous always, so that others may see a pathway to God. How in your life are you sharing joy and being luminous? Is your light showing a pathway to God, and are you willing to share it?
I can't tell you the people I come across on a daily basis that are in need of this light in their lives. A friends dad is battling cancer and very little joy is found in the hospital, a friend is in such despair they are considering ending their life because they don't believe joy exists, and another friend is feeling overwhelmed with the day to day struggles of simply trying to be a good person. I know each of you come in contact with friends and people like these every day. Are you a source of light, of joy, or are you another face sharing the same space, or reading a post and not replying for a loss of words or time? If I had to choose one concept that we all are in a war fighting for it would be the protection of our joy. Are we losing or winning this battle for God?
I am a fruitcake at times. My trains of thought are wildly sporadic, and people often wonder if I am one brick short of a full load. What I really want them to know about me is my Ardithian way of life is one where I choose JOY on a daily basis. I choose not to be stuck to the emotion of when our house was burning down, when a gun was held to my and my moms head, when I was naive to the point in high school where I had no clue about boundaries, when my first husband left us on Christmas Eve, when the doctor said it's untreatable, uncurable, it's a horrific diagnosis, or when I was faced with any one of my 20 surgeries. We all have our "lists" don't we? And though it's not easy, the times I do it, my life is blessed beyond measure and I am the luckiest person walking this planet. My prayers are for you to feel the same and to find it in you to choose joy as well.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

-Marianne Williamson

What Kind of Tale Have We Fallen Into?

As Frodo and Sam chose to face a mythical journey, one where fate had chosen them, a fellowship protected them, and evil hunted them, I too choose to believe that my life is as important as theirs was on a mythical scale. Though they are fictional characters, their story of great triumphs in the face of tragedy is one where the bigger picture of good vs. evil lay in the balance. The story of David and Goliath in First Samuel is one that resonates with me as well in the understanding that small forces can conquer mighty evil presences in this world, and David was real. He was a small, shepherd boy who believed mightily in God and knew that his God of Israel would protect him and deliver his people from the Philistines.

Why would the people who were alive back in the days that Jesus walked the Earth be any different than us? Why would they be any more important to the kingdom of God than we are? I have thought about this a lot, prayed about it even more, and God said to me that my story is an important one. He will do great things if I am willing to share my story with others. In that I trust him as David trusted God back in his day. Though I don’t carry a stone with me or a slingshot, I carry my faith, my story of a person who has overcome great odds to carry forward God’s message, and the knowledge that God above all else is the reason I am alive today. If he loves me, with all of my faults, then he loves everyone, because I share the same types of faults as any other man.

I may not be aware of the details or pitfalls that lie ahead in my journey, but I am aware of the fellowship that I share, and the mission my friends share with me. Ours is one of love conquering evil. The friends that I choose to trust, their love for me and for God, will help strengthen my shield against the evil that is very real in this world. This world is dying because man’s selfish desires and ignorance are killing it. Time goes by slowly, but there is a battle afoot for the kingdom of man, and one that is so worth fighting for. I believe that my efforts, along with those in my fellowship of friends, will be ones that share love in a world of hate, sow peace in a world of pain, and give hope to those who have lost theirs.

And not only this, but we exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulations bring about perserverence; and perseverence, proven character, and proven character hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. Romans 5:3-5

As Frodo and Sam helped one another take steps that they each didn’t think they could take alone, their bond of friendship carried them ahead. Friends are important in this journey we are on. I can only imagine the outcome if Frodo had befriended someone who didn’t have his best interest at heart, like Smeagle. Choosing friends carefully is important because one never knows when we will need one of those friends to help us carry the message of love and hope into a dark, evil world. Evil is around us. It is what keeps us tired, angry, and sick. Can you imagine what the world would be like without those forces? It would be a very different one wouldn’t it?

The journey to defeat evil in all its forms is the heart of the message that God has for us. It’s really the whole point. The point that God loves us, that he wants us to be joyful and maintain an intimate relationship with him, is the reason the war is so worth fighting for. He wants peace for every man, and he has is heart broken when people choose to walk alone in such a world as ours. I choose a path that is mythical, one that will leave a legacy of faith, hope, and love in a world where that is hard to come by. As David defeated Goliath, I hope to defeat the evil spirits that haunt me and my loved ones, ones that hurt children, and ones that keep people sick on a daily basis. David used a rock and his willingness to stand before a mighty enemy to glorify God. God has given me a rock in the message of my story. I’ll use my rock to sling in the face of my enemy which I call defeat, frustration, anger, and hurt. They are as dangerous as Goliath was to David, but these forces will not be ones that conquer anything in my life. My story, and the slinging of my rock, will show a lost and dying world that there is hope that springs eternal, and not all is lost. And as little Frodo and Sam ventured out, the impact of their actions were ones that save the world in the end. Though they were little in stature, they were big in heart. I too feel the same.

Fate has chosen me,
A Fellowship Will Protect Me,
Evil will hunt me,
And God will prevail.
Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.
What about you?
To watch the theatrical trailer of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy follow this link:
http://www.lordoftherings.net/trailers/

The Rebellious Heart of a Horse

We have horses, Horse One and Horse Two. Yes, that's what Bill named them and although I have tried many times to name them 'normal' horse names none ever fit. So, Horse One and Horse Two are those we love. I had gotten a call from Bill the other day letting me know that Horse One, our Arabian, had gotten out. When a horse gets out of his pen it's one thing, but when a horse gets out of his property, that's an entirely different problem. There are cars and roads and people that a horse can run up on that may or may not know how to deal with a wandering, high-spirited horse, like our Arabian. Before I headed out to Dulcinea, which is our property where we keep our horses and lakes, I asked Bill what might have caused Horse One to get out. New horses. Our neighbor had gotten a couple of new horses and our fields back up to one another. Evidently, across the fence line our horse decided that his friend, Horse Two wasn't enough and the new horses peaked his interests so that he would find any way possible to get across that fence. Animals are like that, hormones, instincts, curiosity all cause us, yes us, since we are animals too, to look across the fence sometimes. There is nothing wrong with looking. The problem comes when the temptation to cross that fence, which isn't really in our best interest, gets so strong that we throw caution to the wind and jump, or go around, or climb under. All kinds of problems can come from giving in to that.
Luckily, for us, our horse is unable to reproduce, even though he doesn't know that and we have neighbors that helped us out. The outcome could have been a lot different. When I arrived on the scene there was little I could do, because for those of you who know what has gone on in my life lately, me against an angry Arabian horse would not be a pretty picture. But I was able to watch and what I saw took my breath away. Walking down past the fence line to the gate, across the broken down trees and slushing slowly through the muddy trail I walked into the clearing of the neighbors field to see the sun just peering through the clouds. As the rays lit up the field the light danced off the galloping horses coming towards me and their colors, some a gorgeous burnt sienna, but others a watercolored, dappled grey and a soft, velvety brown were gorgeous. I had always known that horses were beautiful, but I had never experienced the beauty of horses first hand like this. It touched that artistic part of me that God placed in my life in a way that is hard to describe.
Over the next few days I really thought a lot about what had happened and what I had seen. I prayed about the experience because I knew that God was showing me something in this and I didn't want to miss this. Horses are beautiful, artistically beautiful, but horses aren't the point. Beauty is. God said to me that science may try and explain facts and theories about how this planet came into existence but when you consider the force of beauty itself it is a force to be reckoned with. It can't be ignored and most importantly it can't be explained scientifically. When you look into the face of a child or gaze into the sunset and see the brilliant colors blending day into night the beauty of those things can't be explained. We, as humans, need beauty in our lives so that we can believe there is more to this life than the ordinary day to day things we see. Adam and Eve had to deal with this. Eden was created as a beautiful sanctuary on Earth. I believe it is what God actually intended for us. But, thanks to giving into temptation, to looking over the fence and actually crossing it, they were committed to a life of ordinary, with occasional beauty mixed in. God didn't deny them beauty altogether, he gave them tastes of it, longings for it, so they would have an instinctual need for it to pass on to mankind. Thank God he loved us enough to do that. Can you imagine this world without the concept of anything beautiful? The arts may exist but they would never be classified as beautiful. Gasp!
I have had several people ask me lately to explain what I mean when I say God speaks to me so I feel that I should do that, and God said go ahead. I can only explain it as it happens in my life and you may believe it, understand it, or not. That doesn't matter really. What matters is my willingness and effort to keep the connection open. I prayed a few months ago and asked God to connect with me in a way that I would understand and asked if he would have a sense of humor. He did both. What I started to experience was that in times that I was quiet I began talking to God and he talked back, softly, where I could hear him, but he answered. He didn't just talk though. He showed me that he could send me answers through the radio, through others, on the back of a car with a licencse plate that said "God did it" and then I began to understand. When I opened up the box as to how I thought God would speak to me he decided to show up, constantly, in lots of interesting, fun and unexpected ways. This past week it was in a cow pasture with horses. I look forward to next week. Don't put God in a box. Pray, ask him to help you with this and let him out to talk with you as you walk through this life. That's really what he desires from us, a walk together, possibly, with horses.

The Importance of Crayons and Paper

I've spent many a days looking at the world from a hospital bed. Some of those times I was so sick I didn't know what planet I was on and others days that was painfully clear. For the last 20 times, meaning those that were due to orthopedic surgeries, I gave little thought to the person in the next room or on the floor above me. I was there to have a surgery that would help me walk better, or repair a disc that I blew out in my sleep, and looking past my own issues was not something I was aware of. Little did I know my perception of hospital stays would change quite dramatically. In January I was in the hospital for 11 days and by chance landed two doors down from the ICU. Most of my stay was pretty uneventful, that is outside my door, until the night I heard a blood curdling scream. I knew what had happened, someone had died, and my heart broke for them. The screams flew down the hallway, there was a loud commotion, but I kept to myself because I knew that family needed their family moment. I asked the nurse was it someone who was young or old. She said that it was a mother of two, a 14 and 12 year old, and it wasn't expected. That is all that I would know, but the experience stayed with me. I wonder if God was important to them. I wonder how those kids would handle losing their mom at such an early age. At the time that is all I would do, wonder about it. I had no idea that my next view from a hospital bed would be different. This past week my heart monitor had it's third wacky report. I had trusted that my doctor was correct in his assumption that for the most part I was ok, but I needed to rest and try to keep my heart rate slow. He never said I needed to go to the hospital to have things checked out. Wednesday night was different. I knew that my heart was beating way too fast for normal and that I didn't feel right. A different doctor called and said the report showed multi-focal tachycardia and that I needed to go to the ER and let them do an EKG. At first Bill and I talked and I wasn't going to go. He and I are medically overwhelmed and wanted nothing to do with another ER or hospital. But, he asked me how I felt and I said not right. So, I decided to err on the side of caution and went, with the expectation that I would be coming straight home. To make this part of the story short, I ended up having my heart stopped in the ER, restarted, and landed myself back in the hospital. It was a bit surreal, but I was grateful I sucked it up and went, and so was Bill. I only stayed two days, they were able to see the rhythym they needed to see when they stopped my heart and were able to find a medication that corrected my heart rate to normal. It was a close call, but once again God had his hand in it. During the stay I now understood that my medical issues wasn't the point really. God wanted to show me that despite what was going on medically I could share my faith in him with the staff there, or who ever I felt led to. I shared it with two dear ladies and the experience was a life changing one. I don't know the outcome of our conversations, but I do know that they left with an understanding that God can use any trial for his own purpose, as long as we are willing. It seemed to give them hope I think. As I walked the halls on the cardiac floor I looked into rooms that had older patients lying there, alone, no family, no one to talk with. It made me very sad and aware that many people leave this world alone, quietly from a hospital room. Who is it that will go listen to their stories? Who will take a few minutes out of their lives to reach out to an ill person they don't know? God showed me a need, a very important one. Old people are often times forgotten and alone, it is them who need a friend or someone to simply care at a time in their lives when they see the end becoming very real and near to them. As I walked back into my own room I felt a desire to color them a picture, to leave them with something to brighten their day, but I had no crayons or paper. It made me realize how important crayons would have been, to carry with me, along with paper, no matter where I'm at. It seems like a little thing, but I bet to those patients a crayon colored picture of their very own might have been a big deal. Disabled artists spend a lot of time in and out of hospitals. It's part of our reality and daily struggle sometimes. I know at least for me, I'll have crayons and paper with me in some form if I am ever back in the hospital. God may choose to draw someone a picture and if he does, I hope I am ready for him to guide my hand. (The painting above started with crayons)

In my bible I have a copy of a song which is the prayer of St. Francis, the refrain goes like this:
Oh Master, grant that I may never seek So much to be consoled as to console, To be understood as to understand, To be loved as to love, with all my soul.

Embracing Failure May Be My Pathway to God

What a difference four hours makes. The enormity of the shift in my mental state from my last post to this one is difficult for me to grasp my hands around, but I am trying. On a day, a vitally important day in my understanding of my connection with God, my faith was at first shattered and then slowly rebuilt by my choice to embrace failures in my own life and those I love dearly. I went from knowing a profound peace to being flat on my knees with fear, anger, and hoplessness for one who is most precious in my life. It was as if the wind was sucked right out of me, without warning, leaving me broken, deafeted, and alone. What I know, despite the voices that make me feel otherwise, is that I was never alone, and that admitting defeat may be my best defense against those who wish to quiet my spirit and walk with my God.
Physically, I understand that the harder I try to rebuild that connection the sicker I get, which tells me one thing. I must be some threat, a very great threat, to be as sick as I have been, with no medical sense to any of this. Chronic pain is one thing, I get that and live with it, but for about 20 years the times I have been closest to God something or someone or myself puts a roadblock up. It was not until now, for a reason I can't explain, that I was desperate to ask God for some help and he eagerly told me it was about time. That doesn't mean I understand this all, it doesn't mean any of this feels good or makes sense, if anything it's excruciatingly painful but I made a choice to ask and I choose to not give in. How this relates to my artistic self is simple. I can't paint right now, that core part of who I am is out of my reach, but I have to trust that this journey will lead to a place where that is possible and the outcome will honor God, despite my inability to see where I am headed. I have failed miserably at a lot of things and done well in many others. I just am recognizing that it is in my failures that I am truly closest to the God who loves me, if only I am willing to give myself a break and let him help pick me back up. It's been an infuriatingly roller-coaster of a week, but one that I will mark as a turning point in my life. For my group members who prayed for me and with me I say a humble thank you. For our new member who woke me up to the appropriate emotions I needed to feel, I thank you. For my doctor who chooses to share his faith with me I am grateful beyond words. In your practice you honor God and are capable of mighty things. I look forward to the path God has for me where I can do the same, despite my failures along the way. May this blog reach those intended for it, and those who stumble upon it thanks to devine intervention. I'm done today, it's the best I can do for now to say that I am safe, tired, but safe today. Thanks to my God who has missed me. Peace, Ardith

It's Great When We Hear God's Voice, It's Even Better When We Listen

For a little over 41 years God has allowed me to walk this Earth, sometimes roll, but be present, and I am more than thankful to say the least. There were times I felt very alone during that walk, but I always knew one thing, he was with me even when I wasn't with him. That one thing has kept me alive, made me the person I am today, and led me to this very point in my life, despite many protests I may have put up. When I was a child I believed in the God I learned about at church, one to fear, one to never make mistakes around. The guilt was ridiculous. When I was a young adult, I questioned that belief, but found no answers. Many people were placed in my life to help me understand who the God was that I needed to find, that I could connect with, but I managed to either be unwilling or unable due to my life circumstances to listen to him despite the fact that I heard a lot of him, about him, and from him. I am greatful he kept talking.
In January, when I got pneumonia and it landed me literally on my butt, again, I didn't handle it well. I had just been through my 20th surgery, my most difficult one, and was finally feeling better. To get knocked down when I was getting back up was an understatement. It still can't be explained medically, so for that I trust God was there, making sense of it all for me. I've been angry the past few months, overwhelmed, exhausted, but regardless of how I have felt, feelings change and once again God placed someone in my life to throw me a lifeline and for once I shut up, listened, and grabbed it. So, for today, for the first time in 41 years, I was able to connect with a loving God whom I know loves me and wants the best for me. One that is sad for my sadness and one who will provide for me during the darkest moments of my life. It's almost as if there had been a blanket of gray in my life that was lifted and today I see the colors he meant for me to see. It's quite strange I guess, but the illness that almost killed me has in one sense actually saved my life.
Being clumsy, having accidents, having others cause accidents, have all been part of who I am for the last 20 years. I regret no part of it, but understand it differently today. Some of why I have been sick has been my body's way of manifesting stress, that's quite apparent. Other issues have been totally out of my control and I had to make the best of them, which I did and is why many of you know me as a pollyanna, optimistic person. I understand too, that my life experiences have helped many of you gain strength, hope, and resiliency so for that I am humbled by God's work through me, even when I couldn't see it. Today, I don't have the body I would like, but I do have one. I choose not to believe that God would give me specific gifts without the ability to use them, so I must be open-minded about how that might be, which should be interesting. Artwork and the love of color, has been what has kept me sane up until now. I understand today that it was God's use of those things in my life rather than them separately which helped me along the way and I am most hopeful that he will use them further if I am willing.
I'm hoping for a unique outcome today that will affect someone who might read this and I will leave that in God's hands. I couldn't have predicted how many illnesses or surgeries it would have taken me to land me in a spot where I was completely willing and able to listen to God and connect with him, but he gave it to me. It hasn't been a happy spot, in fact it has been the most difficult and painful one I have been in for a long time, but never the less, he put me in it and showed me how much he has missed me. If it took me 41 years and a broken down body to finally listen, I pray he puts whatever circumstance you need, good or bad, in your way to wake you up as well. I'd rather be awake in a weakened body living an authentic life than live another day on autopilot in a perfect body. What will tomorrow hold? You got me. But what I know is that despite my circumstances, if I choose to listen, not hear, but listen, he will carry me on the days I need carrying, walk beside me on others, and hold me close through the dark ones, that is if I let go. How many of you are trying to control your world? Is it working? Is it really working? I hope it doesn't take staring death in the face like it did me, but if so, he's still there and loves us just the same, some of us are just plain stubborn I guess. To my fellow artists, make yourelf work through the pain today and draw something, paint something, create something. Email me and let me know what it is. Peace, Ardith