Visions of Poetry

Tuesday March 15 2016  TO WHOM DO THEIR MINDS BELONG

Sometimes when in the library I go to the adolescent’s section to peruse what is on the shelf.  These books are for teens as young as 13 years old.  A few years ago, as I was eyeing the current selection, I came upon a book called, “THE HUNGER GAMES”.  After reading the jacket synopsis I was simply amazed at its contents being on the shelf for young teens.  I talked to the librarian about it to make certain it hadn’t been accidentally put on the shelf.  No, it was a book for the adolescent.  Many may recognize the title by the movies that were made to tell the story on the big screen.  It was violent, graphic, way beyond what I would even suspect to be a “General Audience or even a P.G.” movie at the theater.  I don’t remember what rating it was.  I will admit, I did read the book and was terrible sickened by the idea that young minds would be subject to this kind of writing, much less be able to see it on the screen. 

And I must go further and admit that I read the sequels…AND…SAW ALL THE MOVIES!  I look back now and I regret doing both.  There are thoughts and scenes that still torment me.  When I am exposed to the visual reality of what is in a book, I cannot get the visuals out of my mind.  I do not watch violence on television, nor even stress filled dramas.  I have learned that I can’t handle the tenseness.  But the part that really saddens me is to think that we now live in a society that believes it is okay to fill the minds of our children with such openly hostile killings and gore.  Our grandson is now 8 years old and reads chapter books.  To my horror I can just imagine him browsing through the teen’s section in a few short years and choosing just such a book as “THE HUNGER GAMES”.  When a book is obtained from the adolescent section  parents may not be overly concerned about what is in the book and might not think to check it out. 

My word of caution to any who have young children, adolescents, or teenagers, is to be sure and give a once over to any titles they bring home from the library, ESPECIALLY IF IT IS CLOAKED IN THE ADOLESCENT SECTION!  Perhaps books should be graded as to it’s content like a movie is.

I frequent the children’s section just to see what kind of books are being written.  They are certainly not the kind I read during my young adolescence.  Perhaps the minds of our children are so seared from the kinds of things they are allowed to watch on television and the kinds of video games they play, that violence is just the norm, and rather expected as part of the excitement.  How sad is that.  Childhood does not seem to last as long as it used to.

We did not allow our children access to television when they were in grammar and middle school.  By the time they were in high school it never became a priority.  We kept them busy with other activities such as sports and the arts.  Does that make us better parents? Probably not.  But it may have made our children better children.  We had friends who had children and we just cringed when we knew ahead of time that they were coming over with their children.  So many of them were rude, did not know how to speak with adults, overly rambunctious in a house, and just seemed delighted to cause consternation to other children, as well as not obeying their parents.  I still remember the quizzical looks our children gave to these kids as they observed their behavior.  They were not used to behaving in that manner and very rarely were they around others who behaved so atrociously.

When I give advice (usually advice that is not asked for) to parents, both back then and now, my suggestion is that if they remove television’s influence from their children’s lives they might be quite surprised at how different their children would behave and how different their family life would be.  Does that sound impossible in today’s world?  Maybe to those who use the tube as a babysitter.  But to parents who really care and are concerned about their children’s learning and behavior pattern, often time see the value in rearing their children with the values they choose, rather than the world’s values.  Never underestimate the amount of influence that television has on the young mind.

Though I doubt if my son will see this blog due to his busy schedule, I want to say to both him and his wife, that I am so grateful for them not allowing television to rule my grandsons’ lives.  Do the children enjoy T.V.  Just like any restricted pleasure, you bet they do.  For them television is a movie chosen by parents or grandparents as a treat, and we watch it with them.  When they come to our house they know that I always go and choose a movie for them to see.  Long ago I started choosing movies with real life characters and solid moral stories.  They were not really appreciated at first but they have come to love them.  What they don’t know, is that each movie is also a tool of learning.  We hold the control and the movie is paused quite frequently to ask them questions about the words they hear and may not know, about the situations which are happening that they might not comprehend the gist of, and to talk about the environment of where the movie is made, where it is in the country, why things are happening the way they are, etc.  One of the most astounding things we have discovered recently is the amazing understanding the children have of the vocabulary used in the move.  Occasionally they do not understand the complete concept of the movie but they are understanding the words and how they apply to the story.

Last weekend I mentioned in my blog how many compliments I received because of the excellent behavior of these two little grandsons.  I actually asked myself what is so amazing about the way they behave?  I would expect nothing less from them, just as I expected my own children to be considerate and well behaved in public.  Then, as I looked around I discovered that they were the exception, and not the rule.  In essence, their childhood has not been taken from them.  It has been given to them.  They have been nurtured, not with a boob tube, but with hands-on parental love.  They have been disciplined without breaking their spirit or being subjected to embarrassing situations.  They are instructed as to what kind of behavior is expected of them, BEFORE, they are in a situation.  Communication.  Words.  Smiles.  Love.  They all go together.

And I say to my son and his wife:

“Amy and Court:  Thank you for our grandsons’ childhoods!  Thank you for loving them tenderly and disciplining them fairly without provocation.  Not only are you giving a gift to your children as role models, you have also given us the opportunity to enjoy their gift of a childhood that you have not allowed the world to corrupt and tear apart.   And even above and beyond that, you have given a gift to future generations that follow.

“I am proud to be your mother, and mother-in-law to your wife.  And I am proud to be Gramma to your two fine boys!  Thank you for their childhood.  It is my greatest gift during these later years of life.  Thank you for sharing their childhood with us.”

I love the verse in the Bible (which I can’t find right now) that tells fathers to not provoke their children.  The influences of the world does enough to incite, aggravate, and irritate even the youngest members of our society without the help of the parent.  So much anger and hostility can be defused by as much of what is left unsaid, as by what is said.  It takes wisdom to know the difference.

This blog came from a sentence I listened to from a children’s story book that was suggested to me by the librarian of the children’s section.  I am not finished with it yet, but so far I would hesitate to have a child read it.  It is science fiction about the future and I am unsure if a young mind could really grasp the horror of what is taking place.  And then again, maybe the young mind is much more sophisticated that I give it credit.  Would I want my grandchildren to read it before adulthood?   I think not.  Since I am not finished with it I will withhold the title until it is done.  I will then come back and report to you my assessment as to what is being fed into the minds of our most vulnerable.

TO WHOM DO THEIR MINDS BELONG?

By Kathleen Martens

March 15, 2016

Little lives so vulnerable and young.

To whom do their minds belong?

Words written by a stranger’s hand

That they cannot yet understand?

Perhaps pictures of violence on screen

And lewd behavior that should be unseen?

Or the four letter words which are spewed

As the screen is intently viewed?

How do you recapture the innocence of youth

As they begin to lose a tooth?

Especially when childhood is so short

Should they now, with the world cavort?

What about their naive, innocent minds?

New information like sponges find.

So give them something wholesome and strong,

Tell them of God so they won’t go wrong.

Influence their behavior by what they see

From Mom and Dad, not from T.V..

Read them stories they can understand,

Not the filth that the world demands.

Protect their purity as long as you can

Plenty of time to become woman or man.

Let it be truth that rings in their heart,

So their foundation has a great start.

Sit down together at the table to sup.

When they walk in a room, let your eyes light up.

Let them know expectations and how to behave,

Tell them you love them every single day.

Slowly and surely when guided right

They’ll be strong enough to face their plight.

Teach them to think and reason things out

So they are calm, with no reason to shout.

Give them incentive and courage to see

The person that God intends them to be.

Teach them to be strong, brave, and pure

So the world’s corruption cannot lure.

Just a short time is all you own.

Only a bit of their life can you hone.

So send your prayers daily upward

And every word by God will be heard.

These childhood moments love and protect

And the knowledge of God on them project.

And in the meantime enjoy these years

And you be the one to wipe away their tears.

Hmm…Don’t know where that poem came from!  I can only thank God for the words He put on my heart today.  I have written these words from my heart.  Just be aware what your children are reading, who they spend time with, what movies they watch.  The world is different in many ways from when I was brought up over half a century ago.  WOW! HAS IT CHANGED.  I wish I could just give a little bit of yesteryear to my little grandsons.  Especially the time before T.V. and videos, and email, computers and cell phones.  I had time to get a lot done back then.  Hmmm…maybe this computer should go???

GOOD AFTERNOON TO ALL OF YOU.  I PRAY GOD’S BLESSINGS ON YOU.

P.S.  Though what I am about to write is a footnote, it is not a footnote in my heart of memories.  Today is the eleventh year anniversary of the day my dear friend Barbara Hook died after losing her battle to ovarian cancer.  Life has gone forward but Barb lives in my heart daily.  Today I celebrate her eleventh year of being with the Lord.  Somehow I don’t think she would want to leave where she is right now. 

Monday March 14 2016  SPRING HAS SPRUNG

We are preparing for spring.  Spring in Wisconsin is a BIG EVENT!  When you must bundle up just to go to the mailbox it doesn’t make for exciting visits out.  When the temperature gets up to 40 degrees F. the students at the local schools can start wearing shorts.  I kid you not.  Forty degrees, and above, you will notice a plethora of bare, white legs hanging out below shorts. 

I didn’t realize it was so hot yesterday.  I think it actually hit 50 degrees or higher.  Well, I dressed WRONG for that temperature.  I wore pants, a long sleeved cotton blouse and a long wool sweater over it.  I also had a warm shawl over that.  By the time I got to church I was sweating.  I had the windows down in the car and I was still overly warm.  First thing when I arrived in the foyer of church was to get rid of my shawl.  I was still hot however.  I couldn’t take my sweater off because it was the “outfit” of what I was wearing.  I sat in church feeling like I was going through the change of life again.  Believe me, it didn’t take long for me to shed that wool sweater when I arrived home.  The temperature is so variable at this time of year and I haven’t yet acclimated to the change in weather.  From here forward I will check the current forecast before getting dressed.

I wonder what it will be like to go from Wisconsin to Southern Florida in just two or three days of driving.  Fortunately Rebecca has air conditioning!  

Wisconsin’s springtime is so unbelievably beautiful to behold.  It is very early and the ground has not yet warmed up from the snow melt.  But even this early, something new is happening in the yard every single day.  Today I heard birds for the first time.  To hear birds is something I NEVER TAKE FOR GRANTED.  For newcomers to my blog I’ll bring you up to date about that comment.  For years I could not hear birds, except the crow, and only because their voice sounds like a high shrill scream.  For several years my hearing was diminishing as it has for so many others in my family due to a hereditary condition.  I could usually hear okay in a one to one conversations but not if there was background noise.  Watching television was an entertainment of the past.  One day, a few years ago, my husband and I were outside and I mentioned to my husband how sad it was that our woods no longer had birds.  He said what do you mean?  I told him to listen, there were no sounds of birds singing.  He said, that’s not true.  He told me that he could hear them singing all around him. That was an eye opening remark for me.  Hearing is a loss that you don’t at first notice.  When I didn’t hear a sound it was as if the sound just didn’t exist.  It only becomes apparent when I realize that others were hearing what I could not hear. I hadn’t heard birds for years, so therefore I perceived them not to be there.  Nor did I hear them for several more years.

I was enrolled at a class at our church and it seemed that the teacher did not project his voice.  I was desperately trying to hear him.  The leader finally became exasperated with my insistence that he talk louder. He asked that the class gather around me and pray that my hearing would be restored.  AND IT WAS!  At first I could not tell that it was restored.  I believe God allowed it to come back slowly.  I had difficulty adjusting to the normal noises of the world around me.  Traffic noise was especially difficult.  My healing happened in October 2013.  Later that same month I walked outside and for the first time in many years I heard the sound of a bird calling to its mate.  I will never forget that moment.  Well, today when I stepped out of the car after Dave and arrived home I could hear the sound of bird song in the trees all around me.  Many different kinds of tweets and warbles, and cooing.  It was exhilarating for me!  I went out into the yard and just turned around looking for all the birds.  Once I heard them I could pick out where they were.  Every day for me is a day of wonder.  Especially in the spring.  I am glad that Dave decided we should not leave on our trip at this time. 

Never take the sound of a bird song for granted.  It is proof of life and of a loving God who created so many creatures for our enjoyment.  The world at springtime is the promise of new life in much the same way that we celebrate THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS.  New life!  And the promise of an everlasting life.  

Last year I experienced both a sorrow and a blessing at the same time.  The sorrow was I left home the beginning of March, returning in July, thus missing our entire spring.  I missed all the flowers popping up as the sun warmed the soil.  I missed all the hundreds of hostas nosing their way through the soil and rocks that surround our entire yard.  I missed the trillium in full bloom along the back of our house and down toward the terrace.  I missed the May Apples in the woods and the Jack (or is it Peter?) in the Pulpit.  It seems that because we live at the edge of a wooded area, we experience new profusions of little plants awakening week after week.  We have wild geranium, blue bells, mustard plants, lupines, berry bushes, cyclamen, lily of the valley, daffodils and tulips, bleeding hearts, fox glove, lobelia, honeysuckle, lady slipper, phlox, nettles, Queen Anne’s Lace, and last but not least, pokeweed.  Pokeweed is a horrible plant that would not even be in our woods if it hadn’t been for my allowing mama to plant some that she brought from Arkansas.  Pokeweed is now our nightmare plant that is determined to inhabit our land and take over our woods!  Dave has an ongoing battle with it year after year.  The sin of Adam is felt greatly in the backbreaking labor it takes to dig out that weed!  

This year I will enjoy what early days of spring are afforded to my time here.  When we return from out trip our yard will not look the same as it did when we left. 

Last year as I headed south the blessing I experienced was the blessing of a perpetual spring for weeks and weeks.  It seemed that as I arrived at destinations each place experienced later than normal springs.  I seemed to arrive in the midst of early spring bloom.  My perpetual spring was all the way through Arkansas, Texas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Colorado, Arizona, Southern California and even up into Northern California.  Once I traveled north of San Francisco spring was pretty much past and summer was in moderate swing, meaning the summer sun was not as intense as it would eventually climb, but the spring rush of early flowers was past.  Still, it was beautiful!  The farther north I drove the cooler it became again.

Enough about last year.  This year I will enjoy every day I am here.  I know I may miss the tulips blooming around the capitol building and may miss the lilacs blooming at the Arboretum.  Right now spring appears to be doing its best to arrive early so I will enjoy whatever happens as it happens.

Wherever you live, stop and take a look outside.  Is spring coming in your neck of the woods?  Stop to smell the flowers!  Regardless where you live, when new life abounds, take time to enjoy it.  All life is a miracle.  Each day is to be enjoyed. 

As I write this I am saddened because I know someone who cannot enjoy the outdoors due to her body not tolerating the smells that nature provides without her becoming quite ill.  Stop and give thanks to God for all you are able to do and enjoy.  Not everyone is so fortunate.  If you have vision, give thanks for that.  If you can hear, give thanks for that.  If you can smell and enjoy the fragrances of the world, give thanks for that.  If you can walk without pain, give thanks.  There is always something in which to give thanks.

EXPERIENCING BEAUTY AND GRACE

By Kathleen Martens

March 14 2016  

What eyes see and ears behold,

Give thanks.  Let God be told

How much you appreciate what he gives

While on this earth where you live.

Take nothing for granted lest it be lost,

Then you will understand what is the cost.

When a bird, you no longer hear,

You never even know it is near.

If you can’t see the color of a rose,

Enjoy its fragrance through your nose.

If you can’t hear the sound of a bird,

Let your vision speak what is unheard.

If you cannot walk to enjoy evening air,

Take a ride and view here and there.

Whatever it is you cannot do,

God offers a way that will see you through.

Even in suffering give thanks to God

For all the beauty that grows from sod.

And through the pain life brings your way

Appreciate something each and every day.

Allow God’s love to be the song you can’t hear.

Let His sunshine kiss away each tear.

Permit His Presence to be your spring,

If you have no voice, allow your heart to sing.

Regardless the burden, though heavy it be

Offer thanks for salvation, it will set you free.

God has promised that you will not lack.

What you can’t do, He’ll pick up your slack.

He will fill you with joy to the very brim,

All He asks is that you dwell with Him.

Seek Him diligently, He offers peace,

And His love for you will never cease.

I think this poem was put in my heart because I know there are some who read my blog that are in the midst of trial and suffering.  I do not mean for the words of the poem to seem condescending or trite in light of what I know many are going through emotionally, and or physically.  If you have even one thing that you can think of to be thankful for, remember to give God thanks.  God hears your thanks.  He delights in your praise and love.  And it delights God to delight you!  Open your heart to the bounty of what He desires to give you.  Be open and receptive to receive, even when you wonder if He really hears you.

I type this prayer with deep sincerity:

MAY GOD BLESS AND KEEP YOU THIS DAY. 

MAY HIS LIGHT SHINE UPON YOU. 

MAY HE GRANT YOU THE DESIRES OF YOUR HEART. 

MAY YOUR BODY EXPERIENCE THE TOUCH OF HIS HEALING HAND.

MAY YOUR LIFE BE FILLED WITH JOY AND PEACE AS YOU EXPERIENCE THE BEAUTY AND GRACE OF HIS SPIRIT ABIDING IN YOU.

I AM PRAYING FOR YOU!

Sunday Sabbath March 13 2016  MISTAKES AND KISSES

What can I say?  I’m not perfect but my heart is full of love.  So I guess that counts for something.

Yesterday was a fine day indeed!  It did not end for me until midnight and I knew I would be up by 5:45 a.m. today, which was the first morning of SPRING FORWARD.  “Spring forward” morning is always the most difficult morning to arise early.  And so it was.  I was up, but the boys were not.  After Dave and I were showered and dressed and breakfast brewing, it was past time for my two little sleepy heads to be up.  I had the hall light on.  We made lots of noise and finally broke through the shell of Zachariah’s impenetrable dreamland.  Xander was another story.  He would just not wake up.  So I had to resort to the last tactic I knew.  KISSES!  I started kissing his soft rosy cheek trying to disturb his little cocoon.  He just simply turned toward me, eyes still tightly closed in the deep peaceful sleep that only a child can do.  He reminded me of a baby nuzzling closer to the breast of a mother.  He was content, happy, and definitely had no intention of waking up prematurely.  I just kept kissing his cheek.  He finally peeked up at me, snuggled closer to me, as Zach snuggled on his other side.  Dave was watching this and he snapped a picture, one of those precious moments that can only be caught by accident.  I have included the picture at the bottom of the blog.  Just look at his little grin of peaceful satisfaction.  His look spoke a thousand words to me.  It was a look of deep satisfaction of being so loved, contented, secure, and pleased with life at the moment.

There is nothing quite like the warm smell of a little boy mixed with profuse stardust kisses.  And I had the luxury of two wonderful boys to kiss awake.  It was one of those priceless rare treasures of being Gramma.  I am “Gramma” instead of “Grandma” because that is how it sounds when the kids address me and that is how Zachariah spelled it in his recent thank you note to me.  I always wanted to be called something unique and so I glommed onto “Gramma”.  Can you tell that I love being a Gramma???

Now to the mistake.  I needed to brush my teeth after breakfast and Xander needed to get dressed.  Well, he only had one pair of clothing in his bag to put on, so I instructed him to get dressed, remembering to remind him to change his underwear, and I would be right out.  Once he was dressed he came into the bathroom to comb his hair (he has a buzz cut), I finished my teeth brushing, and we left to go to church.  He looked quite handsome in my book.  I dropped him off at his 4 year old class.  Fast forward to the service ending, me picking the boys up from their respective classrooms, and finding mom and dad amidst the hundreds of parishioners.  All is well until we see Xander walking away from us with his hands in his “back pockets”.  EXCEPT…his hands were in his front pockets which now graced his little butte.  I have a picture of that for you too.  He was so humiliated when he found out he had his pants on backwards!  Actually, I thought it quite cute!  Well, dad took him to the restroom and saved his dignity.  He came out a happy camper.  So much for Gramma’s eagle eye.  Next time I’ll have to give him a better onceover before we leave home.  I guess ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL!  He still loves me.  And I thought I had done a great job just making certain he had on underware!

WHILE AGAIN I’M YOUNG AT HEART

By Kathleen Martens

March 13, 2016

Oh my, I love my boys

One generation removed.

The children of my beloved son

A father so well proved.

I know he loves his boys

As much as I have loved him.

And oh how that touches my heart

Now that my vision has dimmed.

Greying hair and fading memory

May announce my coming end,

But until that day comes

To my grand-boys I’ll be their friend.

We’ll run and play until they’re too old,

Only a short time will they be young.

 I’ll try to not give too much advice

If it’s possible to hold my tongue.

Every day I will cherish these years

While their lives are still beginning,

And try to stay alive as long as I can

Until my very last inning.

So fun to play and dance a jig,

Read books, play games and do art.

And I will just be plain old Gramma

While again I’m young at heart.

It is Sunday Sabbath, my day of rest.  I shall go rest.  My blog is written.  I love writing my blog! 

GOD BLESS YOU ON THIS DAY OF REST.

P.S.  The best advice I would have for you today is to go to www.citychurchonline.org and look up today’s sermon.  The title is:

“Romans Series:  Understanding God’s Wrath”.  This is a sermon that everyone could benefit from listening to.

Saturday March 12 2016  AND EVERY HUG AND KISS

Oh my goodness!  I almost forgot to write a blog today!  Tonight of all nights, when the clock springs forward, is the night I forgot to write.  And now my morning is coming earlier and all I can think about is getting into bed.

Again, busy from sun up to right this very moment.  Picked up the grandsons this afternoon and I don’t think my feet have touched the floor since.  Just now corralled them into bed at 9:30 and when we wake up in the morning it will actually be an hour earlier than usual because of moving our clocks forward.  So be it.  WE HAD A GREAT TIME!

Dave was anchored to the house today because we had a tree trimmer here all day.  Dave didn’t want to leave with him here climbing into the heights of our oak tree and white birch tree.  We still have one very tall tree that leans toward the house that we are having removed. 

After collecting the boys from their home we had a couple of stops to make so I could pick up some things from Costco and Aldi’s and then headed out to DREAM PARK.  It is a kids paradise.  I like it too.  We played “tag” and it seemed that I was always it.  Too slow to get away when I tagged them and yet not quite fast enough to tag them very often.  It was a conspiracy!  I got a run for my money.  The boys had a blast.  Then we stopped by the gym where Dave and I work out because the boys wanted to see it inside.  It was very quiet there this evening and the boys had a good time looking at all the equipment.  Sometimes it takes so little to entertain two young boys!

After that we met Dave at Subway, came home and had a dessert of yogurt and fresh strawberries, watched a movie and finally got the boys settled in to sleepy town.

These two boy are the nicest little guys you would ever want to be with.  Everywhere we go together I always get compliments on their behavior.  And that praise goes to their parents.  It is just that they are so well behaved that I think it startles people to see two little boys behave so peacefully and courteously in public.  It makes them fun to be around.  And, being truthful, I think they just behave better for gramma when parents aren’t around.  But I don’t care why they do it, I am just thankful!  It always makes for a fun day. 

So that was my day.  A day worth it I must say.  Since we postponed our date for leaving on our trip, my first thought was that we could have the boys over this weekend if we could get an okay from their parents.  I think they were very delighted to give that okay.  As a working mom, and the wife of a law student, Amy probably needs more breaks than she gets.  And since Courtland uses every spare moment he has to study and write law papers, I think a reprieve from interruptions is always welcomed.  And besides, they received special permission to use a gift certificate which had expired on December 31^st of last year.  It never hurts to ask.  They simply did not have a moment in which they could squeeze in an evening out.  So they get a good time and we get to have the BEST time.

AND EVERY HUG AND KISS

By Kathleen Martens

March 12 2016

Busy from sun up

All the way to sun down.

A precious day of memories

Will be the rebound.

There’s never enough time

To watch children grow.

Or plant in their hearts

What you would like to sow.

Every little word

And every hug and kiss

Is tucked into my heart

Never with remiss.

Their peals of laughter

Reverberate in my heart,

The sounds echoing

Like the kiss of a dart.

Making a bulls-eye

That makes Gramma proud

As if floating through space,

On a soft white cloud.

I love the touch

Of sweet little hands

As the smooch of a kiss

On my cheek lands.

Makes the day worth it

For my coffers are filled.

Overflowing with love

That’s outwardly spilled.

How blessed am I

To have two little boys

That fill my heart full

With so many joys.

So sleepy.  I hope the words I have written tonight make sense.

I leave you with a poem which I wrote on May 4, 2010 about the little boy I once had.  I hope you enjoy my reminiscing.

I HAD A LITTLE BOY ONCE

Kathleen Martens

May 4, 2010

I had a little boy once

And my heart remembers so much.

From the earliest fluttering in my womb,

As well as the kicking and such.

Such a tiny baby born too early

With such a hope for life.

He struggled for each breath he took,

His beginning was filled with strife.

I had a little boy once

And I stroked his tiny feet,

His unseen eyes covered by gauze

To protect them from light & heat.

I had a little boy once

Who one day smiled at me

With sparkling brown eyes

He found my heart’s key.

I had a little boy once

Who crawled, walked and played.

And he gave his heart to Jesus

At four years old he simply prayed.

I think back to that time in life,

Unending questions and happy smiles.

All those memories of time and space,

They seemed unending miles.

I had a little boy once,

Each day sweeter than the day before.

The days did not last for ever

And oh how I long for more.

I had a little boy once

Who at my table did sup.

But that little boy is gone now…

He had the nerve to grow up!

Good night and God bless you.

Friday March 11 2016   I HOPE MY EPITAPH WILL TELL

No title to my page today.  I’ll put one up later when I think of something.  Short interlude to say hello to those I know who are daily followers.  I’m praying for you Sandra.  Friends, and those I don’t know, please continue to pray for Sandra’s pain to disappear. 

Now, I must confess about yesterday’s blog.  I actually did double duty yesterday while I was writing my blog.  The day before (which I found out about it at night) I was asked if I had something I had written or would like to write about regarding Psalm 37 as an introduction to our Pastor speaking at our Prime Time event happening this evening.  I slept on it, read Psalm 37 over and realized that I would love to write a poem regarding that chapter.  After Dave and I had our yesterdays’ discussion about being wealthy beyond measure I knew immediately that I was to write a poem relating to Psalm 37 and that the title of the poem would be “Wealthy Beyond Measure”.  Very rarely do I ever title a poem before writing it.  When I checked my phone yesterday morning I had a request that if I was going to write something the title was needed so a brochure could be printed before noon.  I immediately emailed back and was able to give the title because God had already placed it in my heart.  It wasn’t written, but I now had a promise to fulfill.

So, I was able to use my poem for two-fold purpose.  One, to include in my blog, and second to write something for tonight’s Prime Time dinner event.  So today I am practicing my presentation and making modifications here and there.  I know that my blog had a myriad of mistakes yesterday because I hadn’t had time to proof it.  I proofed it this morning by reading my phone copy and then when I went back to fix the errors I could not find some of them.  Oh well, in the scheme of life I would not count that very important.

Today I will watch a bit of the tribute to Nancy Reagan.  President and Nancy Reagan were very special people in my book.  Our country was very blessed to have a president such as Ronald Reagan proved to be. 

I HOPE MY EPITAPH WILL TELL

By Kathleen Martens

March 11, 2016

We all have a purpose

In the life we live.

God who designs us

Our calling He gives.

Someday we will rest

In eternal farewell.

I hope my life

God’s story will tell.

And when my days numbered

Are no more,

Do not grieve for me,

For in heaven I’ll soar.

When I am gone

I hope my epitaph will tell

“God gave her a calling

And she did it well”.

What better words

To convey the story

That my one desire

Was to share God’s glory.

Short blog. Short poem.  Short day with lots to do.  Oh by the way.  I have two dozen of my famous delicious carrot cupcakes to share with the Prime Timers this evening.  I even made a copy of the recipe and will print some off to take with me.  When people eat them they usually ask for the recipe.  At least the women do. 

Nancy Reagan’s Memorial service is coming on soon and I would like to share in this bit of history.  I know it will be touching and educational.

Have a great day!

God bless and keep you.

Tuesday March 8 2016  A CHANGE OF PLANS ARE BREWING

It seems that Mr. Winter has a change of plans, and for the time being has skirted around our state.  It doesn’t take much for Dave to get spring fever on the first warm day that is bold enough to show up on March 8^th!  March has given us some of our most severe weather.  Not today.  The snow is now about 98 per cent melted all around town and the temperature was in the low 70’s!  WOW!!!Dave has commented so many times over the years that he could hardly wait until he retired so he could start working in the yard at the first hint of spring.  And now is that time.  However, as many of you know we were planning to leave right about now to do a little skedaddle around the country, going south, east, further south, then north through the Appalachian mountains, Pennsylvania, and on home.    Dave is having second thoughts about being gone for so long.  Though we have a wonderful couple who babysit our house when we are gone, we can’t expect them to get out and dig up the briers in the back woods while the ground is still pliable.  So, a change of plans are brewing.  I told Dave we should just tell everyone we left town, but really stay home and get all the work done without interruptions.  We talked to the couple who help us out and it was okay with them whether we need them or not.

So, as of this moment, our plans are up in the air.  We do plan to go see our daughter in Florida and those plans are solid.  It is just what we do, and where we go, before we get to Florida that will determine how long we will be gone.  Our pressing dilemma is, how can we shorten the trip, so as to have as much time as possible to be home.  We must try to stay on top of the wild spring growth or it quickly gets out of control.  What we decide to do will write our story; the story of where we go, who we will see, what experiences we may or may not have, or whether or not we even survive the trip to arrive back home.  Choices we make each and every day play an important part of our tomorrows.

I heard a most interesting sentence today while I was listening to an online sermon.  The minister said THAT WE EACH WRITE THE STORY OF OUR LIVES BY THE CHOICES WE MAKE.  I don’t think he said it in those exact words but it is close enough.  I thought his statement quite interesting.  Or, I mused, IS IT, THE CHOICES WE MAKE THAT WRITE THE STORY OF OUR LIVES?  I think it would ultimately boil down to how we make our choices.  Do we purposely set out with a plan, choose to accomplish certain milestones and work toward them, or do we just step out, get ourselves into predicaments we hadn’t planned for, and must now make choices on the spur of the moment that may, or may not have a positive outcome?

Every day we find ourselves making a myriad of choices that must be made on the spur of the moment.   And on the other hand there are choices that we make ahead of time and if all goes well, the plan works out.  So many variables about making choices.  So which is it?  Do we write the story by the choices we make or do the choices we make write the story?

Writing the story of our lives by the choices we make, somehow connotes having a game plan.  Planning ahead as to what decisions you are going to make BEFORE you are confronted with whatever it is you are facing..  But, no matter how fine-tuned your choices are, there always seems to be a cog in the wheel.  Many situations do no go as planned.  And many things happen that you do not plan.  Then what?  I would suspect that then, at that time, new choices would need to be made.   And regardless the choices made, there will be consequences, either planned or unplanned, but still consequences. 

So how do you chose to write the story of your life?  Are you going to write your story by the choices you make or let your choices write your story for you?  Whatever you decide to do it, there is one choice that must absolutely be made before you start deciding.  That choice is to ask yourself, do you give God control of all the choices you make, either planned choices, or those decision that must be made on the spot.  Personally, I feel a lot more comfortable having God in the driver’s seat.  He never steers me wrong.  I wold like my story to be written to coincide with the plan that God has for my life.

LET GOD BE IN CONTROL

By Kathleen Martens

March 8, 2016

A cross fire of what to do,

Many choices to ensue.

How do we determine what’s the key?

What pronouncements will there be?

Little and big decisions bloom

Until it seems there’s no more room.

Verdicts passed with resolution,

While unknown if perfect solutions.

Do those decisions write our story?

Regardless how clean or gory?

Or perhaps it is each man

Who writes the story by his plan?

With steadfastness, design to see

What it is you want to be.

With resoluteness choose your desire.

With single-mindedness light your fire.

And to make your story right

Let God be your guiding light.

He has a plan and it is good,

Even if it is not understood.

When He’s in control your story unfolds,

How God wants it, strong and bold.

Let your decisions be God’s heart,

And then your story will hit the mark.

Jeremiah 29:11

“For I know the plans I have for you.” Declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future”.

I am falling asleep at the computer.  I hope my poem makes sense.

GOOD NIGHT AND GOD BLESS YOU!

Monday March 7 2016  ONE YEAR AGO TODAY

Today it is necessary that I write a short blog.  (Is that applause I hear?)  Again, my schedule is tight and my time is running out for this afternoon.

One year ago today was the day I left for my trip of my lifetime.  I spent some time this morning reading the first few blogs I wrote last year in February and March.  I was testing my wings with the writing bit.

Oh my goodness!  I was flooded with such memories.  It almost feels like a lifetime ago and yet, it just seems like yesterday.  I wrote infrequently when I first left on the trip because for several weeks I did not have access to WIFI, or even plug-in internet.  On a subsequent trip when I was there in October with my family I finally figured out how to get around that dilemma.  On one occasion I sat on the cement steps outside of the Russellville Arkansas  library early one Saturday morning while Dave, my sister Scarlett, and my aunt waited patiently (or impatiently?) in the car while I connected and published a few blogs.  But I didn’t know I could do that my first time through.  Thank goodness a light bulb finally clicked on in this old brain of mine.  I wasn’t experienced enough last March when I left to realize that, so unfortunately, there are some gaps in what was blogged.  I missed capturing a lot of exciting and interesting things that happened along the way because I wrote only when I had the internet hook up.  By the time I had access to internet, I then had no time to write.

Well, now I know.  Even if I cannot publish on a daily basis, I can still write on a daily basis, so as to capture my memories before they escape.  I can always publish them later.

Comment about yesterday’s blog;  I did not realize how painful it still is for Dave to relive what happened to him so many years ago regarding his job loss.  I offered to not publish it but he said it was okay.  He felt it was as if he still had post-traumatic stress disorder from the event.  There was so much more involved than what I wrote about yesterday.  I just glossed over the easy stuff so I could tell part of our story.  And I really do want to continue it when I have more time.  I asked Dave if that was okay and he was agreeable with that.  We both feel that there may be some valuable lessons that others might learn if we share out story.  As I look back I realize how very important it was for us to have someone who was always there for us through the thick and thin of it.  My confidant was the only one that ever knew just how difficult a time it was for me.  It became so financially tight that there were times we had to decide whether to buy food or accumulate the money for our house payment.  We decided to do what was most important at the moment and trust God to provide what we needed for the next day or next week.  And over and over we discovered that God always provided enough!

To have someone in which to confide was my safety net.  She was the only one I would call and talk to when I thought I couldn’t get any lower.  She offered money but it was too hard for Dave and me to accept it.  If I remember correctly I think that at one time she sent us money.  She was the only one who we ever accepted help from.  We also paid it back.  Just having her concern and support at the other end of the phone was the most important help.  She is my sister Velma, who for so many in our family, has always been there to pick up the pieces.  And she is still doing it today for those who are in unfortunate circumstances.  How can you ever repay love and generosity, such as she has shown throughout her lifetime?  We’ve had our ups and downs through our tenure as sisters, but she is always there when someone is down.  I have tears in my eyes as I write.  Perhaps this blog is therapeutic.  Well, at least it isn’t expensive to keep up.  Thank you Velma.

So…more of that story to follow.

I must leave soon and still have lots to do.

TO TEACH THEM WHAT THEY’RE WORTH

By Kathleen Martens

March 7, 2016

As much as I would like to rest

There is no rest for the weary.

Instead I write a hello blog,

And now my cheeks are teary.

Sometimes a bit melancholy

To see the past unfold.

But I know that these memories

Really must be told.

Life is but a shadow

When it’s lived without voice.

A vapor that dissolves in time

Unless you speak by choice.

And I choose to tell my story

Not for money earned.

Rather to pass on to those I love

All the lessons I’ve learned.

If my words someday will help

One descendent not yet birthed,

How awesome that would be,

To teach them what they’re worth.

To let them know how precious

God considers them to be.

That when they give their heart to God

Someday their Lord they’ll see.

And I too will be waiting

To greet them at heaven’s gate.

So they can meet great-gramma

And in forever I’m willing to wait.

Have a blessed day! 

Job 8:8-11

“Ask the former generations and find out what their fathers learned, for we were born only yesterday and know nothing, and our days on earth are but a shadow.  Will they not instruct you and tell you?  Will they not bring forth words from their understanding?”