Strange Treasures

From time to time, I consider the following question. If I had to load my earthly possessions in my small car and evacuate, what would my I count as irreplaceable treasure?

Like most, I have photographs. I have two small trunks full of old mementos. The trunks themselves are heirlooms.  Then, there are my books.  I have a lot I would not pack. But, I have previously shared comments about the ones I would try to save.

I have a large pottery jar and an ostrich egg. There is a glass tray of sea shells.  An old flour barrel has some dolls and toys.

I do have a few pieces of furniture I would like to somehow stuff in there. They wouldn’t fit in my car.  So in my imaginings, I allow him to place them in the truck.  One piece is a credenza.  It is full of glassware collected from both grandmothers, my mother and my own purchases.

Three jewelry boxes should go in the pile. For themselves as well as for the odds and ends in them.

My kitchen cabinets are an entirely separate problem. The collection of dishes, pots, pans, casseroles is two lifetimes of work.  My mother’s and my acquisitions are interwoven behind those birch panels.

I am resisting getting up from my writing to wander the house and see what I am missing in my description.

Just today, I pulled from my shelves a small assortment of vinyl LP albums. These are the melodies I would put on the turntable on sultry summer afternoons.  Exotic, dramatic orchestral performances by Mancini or Mantovani.  What does this collection of music my mother acquired reveal about her?

Many of the tunes familiar from old movies that were broadcast on our little television that got two channels, NBC and CBS, until I was a freshman in high school and mother got an antenna booster than allowed us to get ABC, too.

Those albums would go in there someplace. Though I don’t have a turntable to play them anymore, I would rather not leave them behind.

I have had to let go of so many people and so many ideas and dreams for one reason or another. My treasures, strange though they may seem to onlookers, help me feel a connection with my ancestors.  Perhaps my strange treasures will help my descendants feel a connection with them also.  And with me.

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He Answers Prayers

Over the past few days, I have seen Him answer prayers. Some prayers are for newly developed situations.  Some prayers have been ongoing for many months.

Our friend recently became very critical from seizures. His father and mother are longtime friends of ours.  Our children and our ill friend played together when they were youngsters.  The prognosis was many long weeks of a medically induced coma.  But, He had him sitting in the chair, talking and eating ice cream after only a couple of weeks.

A man we go to church with also had a severe seizure but was home and back at church in a week or so.

Our friend who once was also our pastor has been seeking a pulpit for months. He has been given one by Him just this week.

My beloved cousin is scheduled for surgery tomorrow. (I hope you get to read this tonight.  I love you so dearly.  I expect another answer to our prayer for you.)  Miraculous recovery time from this crisis and I am also going to seek spontaneous permanent remission.  He does that sort of thing.

I have been struggling with anxiety. In the past, my circumstances would have me succumbing to the screaming memmies.  I have several things going on right now.  Not exactly negative, but trials none the less.

I am waiting for an answer about a business matter. I am in charge of a special event at our new church, not knowing even where things are stored.  I am trying to get back in the swing of teaching a Sunday School class.  Hunting season, festival season, the holiday season are all upon us.  Then, the previously mentioned health problems of people I care about concern me greatly.  My baby niece has not been well.  A dear friend is struggling with her marriage.

But, I have been praying. And He has been working on me. I don’t usually show my stress.  Years ago, one lady was shocked and surprised to hear me speak during a ladies’ meeting about my self-esteem, anxiety and depression issues.  She had spent quite a bit of time around me and had no idea I struggled so.

It has been many years since that time. Slowly but surely I have been healing.  From the inside out.  Praying and working on my thought patterns and feelings. Working through grief.  Working through pain.  Working through anxiety.  Praying for answers.  Praying for focus.  Praying for Him to heal people I care about.

Who can know what He is going to do? Why He allows certain things to happen?  Why He lets some things continue and some things end?  One thing is certain.  Most of the prayers I pray are for immediate things of this earth.  However He answers them, I rest in His assurance of my final healing, my final peace.  Complete in Christ.  Doesn’t get any better than that this side of the gates.

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