depression

Sparkle is my Color

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment
Photo by Alexandr Podvalny on Pexels.com

The Road Less Taken is Colorful, or, How about Being a Human Being?

I’m promised great and marvelous outcomes if only I join the 10-item capsule wardrobe crowd, the minimalists, the organized and responsible ones; if I am oblivious to what I like and adore, in favor of what everyone else is liking and adoring.  My heart isn’t meant to sing, it’s meant to follow the leader in gray.  In grey (for our purposes today gray is a color, grey a state of heart and mind).

I once had a grey heart–charcoal, dead.  I saw it, lying on a weed-infested sidewalk crack.  That was the result of following, being untrue to my true self, untrue to God.  It was, and is, SIN.  Sin is, after all, defined as missing the mark, or forfeiting God’s best—color, light,  LIFE. Satisfaction.  Peace.  Trusting myself as I first trust my Maker.  

Much cleverer than heeding and trusting people who so assiduously look, talk, act and walk like everyone else.  Human, but AI.  Artificial “intelligence” is artificial, yes, but intelligent—I think not.  We are told that pink is in, blue (or is it brown?) is the new black, or whatever.  Who has time to worry about it?  Worry is unintelligent.  It’s the devil’s programming.

But I am encouraged even as I impatiently await the light to penetrate those who are, to quote the Eagles, “programmed to receive.”  Hotel California goes on to say, “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”  But people are leaving, exploring the forbidden territories of authentic living, starting with the clothes on their backs.  Floaty florals and vintage high-waisted jeans call to remembrance that pair of pastel plaid, cuffed bell-bottoms I had in high school.  The other girls didn’t look at me with jealousy, they looked with hopeful sighs, and gleams in their eyes.  They, too, were going to dress like that. With a twist—their very own spins.

So, “you can never leave” is a lie from Hell.  You can begin checking out of this Culture of Grey right now.  Go change into something that makes you feel like you want to feel today.  If that happens to be the gray of sophisticated style, thoughtful quietude and understated elegance, that’s great.  Just beware that it’s not the grey of a drizzly, damp, depressed state of mind—grey begets grey. 

I admit there are times for such as this, but cozy yourself against the elements.  Yes, go weeping and walking in the rain, but choose a red umbrella, or a bright scarf, and a good hanky. Sit alone in the darkness, but light one candle, or turn on a small lamp and begin to read a beautiful book, such as Little Women. The unutterable sadness of the death in Little Women is cocooned and made bearable by Jo’s sparkling authenticity and color-filled antics, delivering you, Dear Reader, away from the tortuous landscape of apocalypse-grey living.

And now back to the Levis and such: add lipstick, lift your head, and make like the child scripture exhorts you to become.  This means that instead of getting rid of most of your clothes, you gleefully explore the possibilities:  give something away to someone who will look great in it, put a thing or two in the trash because it’s not worth sharing, iron what needs ironing, and maybe organize by color—this is good, cheap fun.  Say, “So there!” as you ignore the mandate to “get rid of anything you haven’t worn in the past year.”

Now it’s time to shop your closet.  And if you can’t imagine going out with the wacky outfit you come up with (or if you’re like me, the Levis and white man’s shirt with big gold hoops), then stay home with your new and happier, more human self. 

If you’re feeling brave by now, Old Time Rock and Roll by Bob Seger will suit your dancing feet, or maybe begin more gently with Thank You, Jesus by Charity Gayle and some crooning with Vince Gill, or praise God with and for CeCe Winans.  What’s your almost forgotten old favorite, or that song your friend likes?  Mine would include some in-your-face-to-Grey with Dwight Yokum, or Midnight Train to Georgia.  A fine finish would be Freedom by Michael W. Smith and Soldier by Phil Driscoll.

It is, after all, a fight to be free from mindless following, so that you are of real use and benefit to those who don’t yet know how to.  It’s a call and a challenge worth meeting—being human.  A Human Being.

Human is better.  Human responds to color and light, to movement, rhythm and grace, and especially to the uniquely beautiful, enchantingly lovely, and quite colorful.  You.

Frugality and Fridge Therapy

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

What Can I Create?

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

With this evening’s attitude, not much. Once I start thinking about what’s not perfect, I’m on the way to griping about it, and here it comes–the Biblical “spirit of heaviness.” And who needs more of that?

Well, no matter how many times I try sad, I never like it. It never works for me. And it’s always rooted in choosing doldrums over delight. As someone who, over 40 years ago, chose to join the revolution started 2000 years ago by a really great guy named Jesus, I simply have no business thinking it’s about me.

I know (this I’ve tried as often as I’ve tried sad) that when I start doing the selfish it’s not going to end well. Ah, but when I read the beautiful Word of Life, when I pray, when I repent of my disobedient self-absorption, the very atmosphere of my life begins to change. What a difference a moment makes.

What a difference a bit of good preaching (this evening it was Creflo Dollar talking about the “sin” of selfishness, the miserable life therein); last week it was Bill Johnson saying, “When at war, create.”

Create. I’d no sooner finished listening to Creflo, than John asked me to watch and listen to the story of a businessman turning Central Park into something marvelous for New Yorkers. Create. We’re all born for it, created for it.

Just in putting out the maple syrup and making plans for homemade waffles, scrambled eggs, brats, peaches and tea for a late breakfast tomorrow, I have begun creating something marvelous in the sight of my beloveds.

In writing my evening pages (I scribble my thoughts morning and night to see what’s in my brain) I create a list for tomorrow–assuring that it will begin as it should–first with thanks for the Author of all Beauty and Creativity, and then with the getting to it.

What can we create tomorrow? Why don’t we let it begin with smiling at ourselves in the mirror and remembering we’re created in the image of the The Creator. Who knows what we’ll get up to (I might start a book, or at least another blog post, do a YouTube thing. I might even clean the junk drawer!). Or maybe I’ll just create joy by giving smiles and good words to all.

Thanks for letting me share with you!

P.S. You can still get The Maker’s Marriage (on Amazon) before Christmas–if not for Christmas, by New Year’s Night.

Paul said, “Pray for us.”

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

“”Pray for us,” Paul asked believers.  “Pray for us,” I saw not once, not twice, but three times in a row this morning in my Bible study.

I open my eyes each morning and give Him thanks (not only if I feel like it) and then as I begin my Bible reading I ask for a word. So, I may not have the exercise habits and the writing habits I wish for, but this one thing I do. I begin my day with Jesus.

I commune with Him and I expect and receive responses. So often it goes like this morning.  He tells me more than once and more than twice so I can’t miss it.

I got the message, or the message’s beginning:  There are some people on the front lines in ministry who need prayer, who need strength for the arms that hang down.

The joy of the Lord is our strength, the Word tells us.  So, I pray for joy for them, and so forth.  A few people come to mind and I press in for them, then go to John and we pray in agreement.

Then comes more revelation and more word, such as the word “refreshment”, which also stood up and waved at me three times.  As John and I discussed this, as well as the negative reactions of two special people to something we said, we see they are the ones who REALLY need our prayers, and whatever else God leads us to say and do for them.  “I think,” I said to John, “they misunderstood us because they see and look at everything through the lenses of hurt and discouragement,  Through woundedness, grief, and oh, such fatigue.

So we pray and beseech God for wisdom, for the right words and the deeds, and He answers us both.  To me He imparts that oft-forgotten truth:  lead with the love example.  To John he says send an e-mail, or a card – one so full of grace and love and appreciation and thanks that our hearts cannot be misunderstood.

“Pray for us.”  Pray with us.  God never intended any of us to walk these paths alone, and one of the enemy’s biggest pressures is the pressure to make us feel we are alone, forgotten, unloved.

Prayer is love.  Prayer in person is love on steroids.  I try to emulate a famous minister lady who says when she sees someone in the grocery store and they ask for prayer she stops right then and there and prays with them.  “Let’s pray!” is much more comforting than, “I’ll pray for you . . . (someday, sometime, maybe, probably not).”

Yesterday, knowing my dad was in a place he detests being, doing a hard and difficult thing, I said to my daughter, “Call your grandpa and tell him we just prayed for him (we had just prayed for him) and that we love him.”

Every time, any  time anyone is on your heart, take it as an unction to pray.

Pray for you, for me, for people in high places and people in low places.  Pray for the Body of Christ.

“Pray for us.”

P.S.  Don’t miss Friday’s Home Front Show – at 2:00 p.m. Mountain Time go to 1360am.co, wait for it to load, then click on “LIVE RADIO” and be blessed!

“I came that you might have (and choose) life.” – Jesus, in John 10:10

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment
praying baby
          Rejoice, highly favored one, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women.”  I believe that Mary was much more than we know, that she is a model, a pattern for emulating, and that in his hatred for her, Satan has twisted and snapped the threads of that life pattern for a tapestry of rhythm and grace.  He turns what God intends for life, into death.
          That is how I see abortion – the ultimate success for the ultimate woman hater.  We are endowed with the ability to create the ultimate masterpiece – a child.  We partner, as did Mary, with God, to make sons and daughters who can bring light to the darkness, beauty for ashes, healing for the broken. 
          My brokenness began with buying Satan’s lie that casual sex (no mating for life marriage commitment) is OK.  I had that unplanned pregnancy, the one where abortion was suggested.  I can only thank God and my heritage – not that of a Christian upbringing (which I didn’t have) but that of parents who loved me unconditionally, and who taught by example the preciousness of a child – for the existence of that child in the world today.  How glad I am that Mom and Dad were too unworldly, too “unsophisticated”, to buy the lie from Hell that children are expendable, that abortion is a solution to anything at all, ever.
          And so I sit in the middle of the night, pondering the angel’s words in Luke 1:28.  I do rejoice in the face of temporal stresses, heartaches, things not as I want them to be, children partaking of my past brokenness.  And yet, there is no denying it:  I am highly favored.  God has given me children, and He has shown my volatile and wayward heart over and over and over that He is with me.  I am blessed among women.
          And  therein lies the sadness.  There are too few women walking in my shoes.  I look around me, especially at church, and I want to wear a sign:  GOD DID THIS AND HE’LL DO IT FOR YOU, TOO!!!!  Years ago I looked around as a single mother, bereft of that ever-so-essential ingredient in a family – Daddy.  I looked at the women in church, the married ones, and wanted to know two things:  Is it real, and if it is, is it forever beyond my reach?
          The day finally came when I had the courage to believe, to trust, to call (loudly) on God.  “Lord,” I said, “I need a husband.  I don’t care if he’s tall or short, fat or skinny. I don’t care where he’s from or what he does for a living.  I just want a good, honest man who will love me like I am.”
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          Two weeks later, after a nine-year drought, God sent John.  John the Blessing, John the Family Man.  John who knew the value of a child.  John who God knew would heal my brokenness through the very love of Christ Himself abiding in John’s heart and being passed on to mine. 
          And John who would partner with God and with me to make a family, the most beautiful thing of all. Our children weren’t planned or affordable or convenient.  They were and are simply the greatest of all blessings, the highest of all honors and privileges, the gifts beyond all gifts. 
          And that, Dear Reader, is what you and I are to God.
          Rejoice, highly favored one.