Four little letters, but a chilling word, a convicting word. In the book The Shack William Paul Young said, “Sin is its own punishment, devouring you from the inside.”
Recently I pulled out some decorative items to brighten up my apartment and give it an air of Autumn with its lovely hues in red, orange, and brown. I placed my pumpkin plate in a holder on the kitchen counter. At the bottom of my storage box I found several child’s blocks. A few years ago, I had arranged a small display for a craft show and used the blocks to spell out my last name. I soon realized that some of the blocks had been lost in my last move. I had set a few on the counter when I was distracted by a call and walked away.
When I returned to the kitchen, what I saw was startling. My blocks were aligned and said
“C_ _ SINS
Okay, Lord, I get it. Yes, I do SEE sins and I ask forgiveness when I recognize my judging, lack of forgiveness to others and other things. I ask to be shown other failures that I might not recognize. When we don’t get the lesson, sometimes we have to be given an arrow, a map, or even a Halloween pumpkin to point the way.
I was intrigued by the prompt using the word “kind,” that morphed into “kinda”. Lately it seems like kindness and compassion have been eliminated by technology and the world’s business. Although my picture is both square and uses “kinda”, my thoughts kept going back to KIND.
My picture title came because as I checked autumn’s progress,
If only one person finds a smile or a word of inspiration from my thoughts-it will be worth every minute that I spend in choosing the words that swirl through my kinda, sorta, scrambled brain on any given day.
On Monday this week, I thought about a story a friend had told about his mother and a bird. “What bird is making all that racquet,”she asked. “A Mourning Dove,” my friend replied. afternoon!” But it’s afternoon,”his mom said.
That led me to thinking about how many are”mourning” over the state of our world. The pandemic has caused so many deaths to be mourned. The killing of black people and others in protests and for no reasons at all are causing more mourning. Not just in the black community but among all caring people. What is wrong with people? Why have we still not learned–as we were taught in kindergarten–to be kind, take turns, share and listen more than talk?
On top of all that the country is besieged by hurricanes and floods and fires that cause people to lose their homes and businesses.
Like all mourning, it takes time to process and reach a new type of normal. If you think about it, we should learn from the past but not try to return to it. We have to pray, talk to each other and step out to a morning that is brighter and not one steeped and steaming with “mourning.”
I thought about this as I looked at my photograph of the view this morning. No fog today, but fall is peaking around the corner of late summer and waving a “see me” flag.
My mother always said that the fall made her sad because of what was coming. She meant the long stretch of cold and snow and less sunlight for several months. I understand her remarks more now. This summer has been one for the record books. More lovely, sunshiny and hot day–and most people could not travel for a refreshing seashore or mountain breeze. Then there is the sadness of all those lost from COVID-19, and the horror at more black lives lost.
You could say also that the bright yellow branches are the result of our recent drought. Either way it sent my brain to autumn thoughts and a slight sadness that I feel at this time of year. For another summer over soon–and gone. For the fading and drying flowers near my building. For knowing there is little time left for “summer projects.”
But, cooler air will be refreshing and many feel invigorated by the crispness of fall mornings. May it be so and may we embrace the good and the blessings in any season.
This is also Six Word Saturday so I felt this was appropriate.
Champion the right to be yourself; dare to be different and to set your own pattern, live your own life, follow your own star.
tags: summer, fall, Be different, Writing and rhyming and devotions, Oh My, COVID-19 Summer, thoughts on life.
I have to write more than six words today, although I thought a lot about that heading
before I wrote it. I recently moved within my building to a different apartment simply to gain a small balcony and a sliding door to the outside world. I had missed being able to be outside, even for a few minutes without going to the elevator and down to the lower level. At this time in my life, it was good to downsize, pare away peels and layers of “stuff.” It was good to have done that during this weird time of pandemic–because of how a world event such as this forces you to realize–nothing is more important than love and the people in your life.
Neighbors have stepped up to aid neighbors and many have rethought how they live due to being home more with extra reflecting time.
When I feel uncertain of what activity to pursue next, or I contemplate the seriousness of our world, that is when I need that view of nature. Looking out at the hills I always remember the scripture I’ve heard so often: “I lift my eyes to the hills–where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2 NIV.
A few minutes looking at the trees, the peaceful farms across the ridge, and birds rearranging themselves in the trees below never fails to calm my spirit and life my mood.