Tag Archives: Bible

Shake, Rattle & Roll Over

08 Tuesday Nov 2011

Posted by in Life at Home

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, ,

It took three shakes to get my attention.

Well, maybe two.

I slept like a baby through the first — the earthquake that with rapidly increasing knowledge and expertise we call a fore-shock.  It took place about two a.m Friday night — or the wee hours of Saturday morning, however you prefer to think about it.

The second — the BIG ONE —  came Saturday night around eleven p.m.  No need to lie.  That shake rattled me.  Along with attic rafters and joists, all the way to the foundation of our just about refurbished fifties Ranch.

But thank God some things remain the same; my steady-as-a-rock better-half wouldn’t have breathed a word had I, in my confused state, not asked,

“What’s going on?”

“Earthquake.”

Just that.  As if such were an everyday occurrence in Oklahoma.  Before he rolled over to go to sleep.  To leave me alone with my thoughts, trying like heck to process his answer.

Earthquakes don’t happen in Oklahoma.  Certainly not everyday.  Well, maybe a long, long time ago, who knows.   And the last three out of four nights — the last three out of three ‘every-days”, if we don’t count Sunday.  And why not ignore Sunday since it’s evident that earthquake epicenters believe in setting aside Sunday as a holy non-roller sort of day, the way most believed — a very long time ago, when my fifties Ranch was brand spanking new — in my slice of the world.

Like most places in the  U.S.A., Sunday is business as usual.  Except at Chick-fil-A restaurants.   And liquor stores.  (Because we are located in the Bible Belt, after all.)  And now to complete a holy trinity — the earthquake business — which must need its Sabbath rest.  So it can start fresh on Monday.  I suppose.

In spite of several nearby states feeling the effect of the Big One, I forgot it by Sunday morning.  I went out to my garden as I do everyday when it’s not raining.  I forgot about it until I read a blog comment Sunday night.  Then after responding, I forgot it again —   as I sat out of the garden all day Monday waiting for the boo-koos of rain promised by weather forecasters — which for the most part passed us by.

I forgot it until last night’s third shake — what I’m now calling an after-shake — in hopes that this coda completes the rock ‘n roll trinity.

My husband was not here last night to tell me that the weird rattle and earth movement I felt sometime before nine p.m. was an earthquake.  He was out-of-town — tending business, as he has for much of the last month.  But just to let him know I was on top my earthquake game, I fired off an email to him all atwitter, which I labeled “Another Earthquake,” shouting the following text:

“Smaller.  Shorter.  Still Scary.”

Sort of like a tweet without the Twitter.

Last night I consoled myself with laughter by reading a blog post about the twin quakes from The Lost Ogle.   This morning I consoled myself with an admiring glance of my angel watching a still world from my kitchen sink.  But tonight, if another quake comes, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.

If Number Four comes — what I will, without affection call the After-After-Shock — I may have to grab my Bible like cousin Deb use to when a twister was coming.  Tell myself it’s only another quake.  Then wonder about the Second Coming.  As I turn to Mark 13  — oh gosh, did it have to be thirteen? — and give it my full attention.

Tears and Fears

26 Saturday Dec 2009

Posted by in Life at Home, Prayer, Soul Care

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

I had no plan to write about this morning’s biblical readings when I sat down at the keyboard this afternoon.  But that’s often how writing is with me.  I sit down to write one thing and out comes another.   I guess the stronger words reign victorious in their fight for life.

Of course, the Bible is full of strong words, many which make for disturbing thoughts.  Sometimes I’m desolate after my morning quiet time, as I see that people across time haven’t changed much — and that the changes for good within myself are painfully slow.  Perhaps, in some ways, we are all slow learners, especially when it comes to learning the lessons that matter most in life.

This morning’s reading from Psalms was a variation on the old “eye-for-an-eye” theme.  Most would agree that there is nothing wrong in expecting value for value;  to settle for anything less than what we are due is to be taken advantage of — and God knows, I feel stupid when I’ve let someone get the best of me.

Yet, in my favorite prayer chair this morning, I felt more disturbed than stupid, as I listened to the psalmist’s heart-wrenching prayer.  Distilling through all the rhetoric, I heard the psalmist’s pray boil down to this:  “We scratched your back and now God, it’s your turn to scratch ours.   Don’t let us down, man.”

I wonder how the psalmist prayer sat with God, as I flee for the good news of John.  After the Psalms, I’m in need of a bit of good news.  But it doesn’t take long for my eyes to water as truth splashes me in the face.

I’m now sitting with Jesus, who is pouring out his heart to teach others about his family business.  Jesus it seems, is full of heavenly notions about what it really means to love God and what it really means to love one another.  It’s clear that Jesus is upsetting the apple cart  with lessons that don’t quite mesh with his audience’s way of thinking.  Doesn’t Jesus see that he’s letting his listeners down?

I finally escape to John’s first epistle where I see the old apostle imploring his flock to love.  “All you need is love, folks — heavenly business is simple enough for a baby to do,” John seems to say.  “There’s no need to worry about whose turn it is to do what, forget about keeping tallies, everyone’s a winner when love trumps fear.”

This doddering saint seems to be saying that when we let one another down, we let down God and worse of all — at least in God’s eye — we let down ourselves.  Heavenly business seems to be about stooping down to pick up the ones that are let down by life and making them the apple of our eyes.  Back scratching is just one way to express it.