Jul 8, 2016 |
Faith Is . . . Inspire: Creative Journaling Bible
So there’s a lot going on in the world today that I’d like to, but can’t (and really shouldn’t) ignore. I don’t even want to start the laundry list of upset, because I’ll inevitably forget or neglect something or go sideways with it.
As things of late have been happening, I’m understanding more and more there’s a before, during, and after. For everything. Except God. He’s just an all-inclusive is.
My faith has been challenged recently. It’s been uplifted, spun around, trampled on, revived, amplified, and abused. And I’m the prime culprit.
Yet it holds. In the dark thoughts, in the silent screams, in the moments of “I don’t know what comes next!”, it says, “Hold on.” It says, “Things are gonna get better.”
It says, “Trust me.”
It proves itself to me time and again, when it shifts from thought to reality.
It is strong. It is the dynamic of what is and what will be. Did you catch that? What is and what will be. Imperatives. Not suggestions. Not ideas. But absolute, positive, imperative.
Faith is not a question.
Faith says, “I will do this.” “I will be that.” And then it hangs around and waits until it happens.
Faith isn’t a wish with fairy dust.
I purchased my new Bible two weeks ago tonight. It was a bonus purchase when Faith brought my community together in such an immediate response that I was enabled to purchase Raven, my new laptop and needed accessories. That was a journey of faith, let me tell you.
Faith Is . . . My Writing Desk
And I was blessed with far more than just the essentials. A new desk, swivel chair, better lighting. And yes, an adult coloring book. All things a creative person needs to exceed.
Naomi told me of a friend of hers who teaches creative Bible journaling; that is, using scrapbooking/artistry to delve deeper. I told her I wasn’t sure I could do that to a Bible. But then I thought, I’m a creative. I’m not sure I couldn’t do that to a Bible. Especially a Bible designed with a creative reader in mind. If it causes me to connect with God and my world in a better way, how could I not explore the option?
But of course, it’s a new Bible. It’s pretty. It smells like a book should smell. The pages are smooth and the words are crisp.
And I’m human.
I’m gonna mess this up.
So, for the last two weeks, I kept the Bible where it doesn’t belong. In its box. On the desk. Untouched. Unopened. Like a precious gem.
But here’s the thing about Bibles. The more they’re used, the more they’re worn, and marked and highlighted and underlined and notated . . . That’s when they’re priceless.
I have several Bible verses that I hold to consistently. Lately, another has been creeping into the forefront of my spirit, begging me to grasp it, to understand it.
And as God will often do, He confirmed this understanding by having it presented to me in several different ways. Through conversations. A Facebook meme. Dreams. Song lyrics.
So tonight, I opened my gem to find the Gem.
“Faith shows the reality of what we hope for;
it is the evidence of things we cannot see.” [Hebrews 11:1, NLT].
God’s been impressing upon me lately the value and the promise of Faith. How, without Faith, nothing would be accomplished.
You bake because you have Faith the cookies won’t burn down the house.
You drive with Faith that the brakes will work when they need to, and that you will reach your destination.
You love in Faith that it will be returned to you.
Now, these are human examples and at times, subject to fail. But overall, you see it, don’t you?
Faith is the tangible realization of what we keep in our hearts.
But wait ~ there’s more!
Faith is the driving force behind our success and excess. Faith is what moves mountains out of our way, and moves us over the muddy pits.
Faith is what gets us from Point A to Point B. We can’t be swayed from it. We know deep in our gut that this is who we are, what we are destined to be. The path may [will] turn, in parts be grown over and hard to follow, but it is still the path we’re meant to be on.
Faith says so. Faith says, “Don’t give up, honey.” It says, “We got this.”
Faith says, “Lean on me.”
When things seem dark and chaotic and noisy and unclear, Faith is the flashlight. It is what motivates all heroes to fight against the dark, to stand and run when others fall.
It’s what’s calling you.
Faith, like God, Is.
Faith Is . . . What Superheroes Are Made Of
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
CLICK TO TWEET: Tweet: Frankly, My Dear . . . Faith isn’t a question. It’s a flashlight. @realmojo68
CLICK TO TWEET: Tweet: When things seem dark and chaotic and noisy and unclear, Faith is the flashlight. @realmojo68
Sep 28, 2012 |
I have a huge affinity for Mary Tyler Moore; especially the Mary Tyler Moore Show.
I was born in Minnesota, but soon we moved to Michigan. When we returned in my youth for a cousin’s wedding, Dad took great pride in driving us through the intersection at Nicollet Mall and 7th Avenue. I remember being a young girl in the back of the car as he pointed out the exact spot where Mary stood and tossed her hat: a sign of confident independence. I was enthralled. (She’s one of the reasons I love hats so much!)
I grew up with the Mary Tyler Moore Show. Even at a young age, she was someone to recognize: Mary Richards, a single woman. Mary Richards, a career woman. Mary Richards, on her own. She was unlike any other female character on TV. She wasn’t a doting mother or tender wife or the sidekick to any man. She was her own woman. She was successful at it. And she inspired me.
I’d spent years in Michigan, then California. But Minnesota still drew me in. So in my early 20’s, I took a big breath and wrote my Uncle Roger to ask if I could live with him and go to college there. He said yes, and I quickly enrolled at North Hennepin Community College.
You know that opening scene of Mary driving into Minneapolis to start a new life? Yeah. That was me. You know that Lake she walks around in the winter? Been there, done that.
Roger was also a writer. The day I arrived, he had my room set up for me with a NHCC sweatshirt (which I still have in a protective clothes cover); yellow Pee Chee folder, several pens, pencils, and other “student supplies”. He must have had so much fun shopping for me. He also picked up a U of M Gophers fleece throw blanket that I still have; it’s also a favorite.
Because he worked the night shift and I schooled during the days, we mostly only saw each other on the weekends. We would get up early Saturday morning, walk a mile to the local bakery shop where he’d buy us coffee and donuts and we’d get caught up. He always had a bear claw and I always had a Bavarian Creme-Filled donut. He would always say, “I don’t know how you can eat that. They give me the heebie-jeebies.” That’s okay… until a few months ago, I couldn’t understand how he could eat New England Clam Chowder.
Being that close to Minneapolis was a great experience for me. I reconnected with cousins. With culture. With four seasons.
But it was still lonely. I loved my Uncle, but our arrangement was that I would only stay until I found a place of my own, so after Christmas, I moved out. It was my first foray into self-sufficiency, and I was rarely good at it. I often called home to my mom for help, advice, support. I still relied on my weekly Bakery Walk with Roger. But what really did me in was “The Blizzard of the Century”. My second winter, 1991-92, my roommate insisted I wasn’t going to work or school. I insisted I was. Until she made me look out the window. We were on the second floor of a townhouse. The roof next to us held over three feet of snow.
It was the day before Hallowe’en. We didn’t see dry ground until Memorial Day. Needless to say, when I visited home for Christmas and it was 72 degrees outside, and my cat professed her undying affection for me, and my family said how much they missed me… I transferred home to Cal State.
I felt like a failure. I let my Uncle down. I let my family down. I let my college professor down. A scholarship had been created just for me, to join a prestigious writing community in Minneapolis. And I chose to run home instead.
Most of the time I have no regrets. Except when I watched The Mary Tyler Moore Show. She made it. She was alone, and she succeeded. She was awesome. It always made me miss Minneapolis and my Uncle and my missed chances.
In the past four months I started watching the show again. The first few times, I couldn’t get through the opening sequence without crying. Without thinking of Uncle Roger, and Dad, and how they’re both gone. Without wondering how different things would have been if I’d had the courage to stay. This summer, Mary Tyler Moore made those voids in me seem bottomless.
I had to remind myself that things always work out the way they’re supposed to. I’m truly not sorrowful for choosing to come home to California. My family is here. Dot was born and raised here. So many wonderful adventures have taken place here.
A few months ago, I was overwhelmed. Over a year of unemployment. The death of Dot’s boyfriend. Life struggles. Personality conflicts.
And I just really missed my Uncle. It seemed everywhere I turned, I had reminders of him. Finding old letters. Framing old postcards. Inspired by his Logo. Developed quite a taste for his favorite soup. I miss him.
And I was tired. Tired of all the junk. Tired of being worn out.
Tired of feeling sorry for myself.
I took a deep cleansing breath. Literally. And turned on the TV. Lo and behold, The Mary Tyler Moore Show was just starting. And it actually happened to be the first episode.
I don’t understand what happened in that moment. All I can tell you is something clicked. I realized I had a choice to not feel sorry for myself. As my friend Mary tells me, to get off the Pity Pot.
And suddenly instead of a midlife crisis full of tragedies and missed opportunities, I once again associated with Mary Tyler Moore. Danny told me I have spunk. Megan encouraged my affinity.
I’m not in Minneapolis. I’m not a successful career woman (by the World’s standards).
But I have potential. I have a Cookbook. I have goals. I’m gonna find me a blue knit beret and a #10 Vikings jersey. Lots of them.
Because I’m not finished.
In fact, I’m just beginning. My life isn’t a sad, half-over has-been. My life a fresh, new, potential. Every breathing moment brings new opportunities. I’m willing to step out, to get into the world, to throw my hat into the rink.
And I’ve decided:
I’m Gonna Make It, After All.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Sep 26, 2012 |
Dear Amy,
You don’t know me, but from what I’ve heard in the past two weeks, we would be good friends. I’m a childhood friend of your brother-in-law, Dan.
It was just over two weeks ago that I heard from a friend that his brother passed away.
No. That’s not right.
It was just over two weeks ago that I heard your husband was shot and killed in the line of duty.
Since then, I’ve cried. I’ve prayed. And I’ve paid attention. I’ve wondered what it must be like to be you: a mom with four young children, left alone. Dan has shared your strength and faith with me and with many. And I see that while you are now without your husband, you are definitely not alone.
The Community has really reached out to help you. And it inspires me. It’s what a Community is supposed to do.
I pray for you and your kids every day. I hope you don’t feel terribly alone. I pray that God’s arms are supporting, comforting, and protecting you.
I wish I could be there with you. I wish I could get to know you and your kids. I’ve heard stories of how strong and wonderful and considerate you all are.
We’ve suffered some losses in our lives, but I don’t equate those with your loss. Ours was outside the immediate family. And even though I have an inkling of your pain, it can’t compare to what you’re really going through.
I want to say, I’m sorry. I’m sorry there are people in the world who have no hope. Who feel they have no support and no reason to live. I’m sorry they feel the need to take out their anger, depression and frustrations on those around them. I’m sorry the world is so confused, and your husband had to pay the ultimate price.
But I’m so thankful your husband paid the price. I’m so thankful to know that there was someone out there willing to put his life on the line no matter what. Willing to help others before himself. And willing to share his faith with all who would listen.
Your husband is no longer physically here, but his legacy is. And I’ve been so touched by reading stories on his Facebook page, and reading your own postings.
You, Patrick, and your children are so very inspirational. I’m so sorry it took his loss for so many in the world to see that, including me.
But I want to thank you for the encouragement you have personally given me. You don’t even know me but you have encouraged me to keep going. To not give up. To not be selfish. To love. To forgive. To move on.
No. Matter. What.
You are a remarkable woman. And we would be great friends, I just know it.
So if you’re ever in my neck of the woods desert, I’d love to offer you a great cup of coffee and get to know you better.
Until then, I’m just so sorry for your loss, and wish there was so much more I could do.
With love, hugs, and many prayers,
Molly Jo
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
To donate to the Patrick O’Rourke Family Trust, just click here:
This post is linked up with Pour Your Heart Out at Things I Can’t Say.
Sep 17, 2012 |
“If you can imagine it,
you can achieve it.
If you can dream it,
you can become it.”
~William Arthur Ward
“Some people dream of success
while others wake up and work hard at it.”
~Anonymous
“Every great dream begins with a dreamer.
Always remember, you have within you
the strength, the patience, and the passion
to reach for the stars
to change the world.”
~Harriet Tubman
“Find something you’re passionate about
and stay terribly interested in it.”
~Julia Child
“Impossible just means
it hasn’t happened yet.”
~Mabel Bell (my Grandma)
I am unfinished.
I have potential.
I am a Diamond
in the Rough.
And I will shine.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Sep 8, 2012 |
As some of you know, I’ve recently been writing reviews for Trekaroo. I love finding little and big places to review. My mental checklist lights up like a neon sign everywhere I go:
Is it family friendly? How expensive is it? What’s the average age range? Is it clean/fun/educational?
I also love reading reviews from other people. Whether it’s a 140-character Tweet or a hundred-page historical guide, I love reading reviews and viewing photos about travel.
So I thought, wouldn’t it be fun to host a link-up where others can share their travel experiences for all to see?
I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes (Trekaroo!), but I know Larissa has some great posts about Brazil. And Kate and Mary and others have experienced some wonderful moments in Toronto. Tina lived in my beloved NYC. So why not share?
Are you looking to travel somewhere? Do you have a Pinterest board set up for inspiration? Does your social media always include suggestions of far away places? Or do you prefer the happy solitude of your own backyard? By all means, share and share alike! If you’ve ever blogged about travels and vacations, link your posts up here!
The more the merrier: you never know who you might inspire to travel to your corner of the world… and beyond!
[Please note: “Destination Station! at Frankly, My Dear…” requires a backlink for all posts. This helps us avoid spam and other unsavory content. Thanks for understanding!]
