Having Words

 I've learned that words really do mean something. They really do. Look at the world around us; the earth, the sky, water...all created by WORDS, like "Let there be"...and there they are. 

    When Jesus was sleeping in the boat and a storm came up, his buddies got scared and woke Him up. He was like, ("Oh come ON!") "Where is your faith??" Then He essentially told the storm to "shut up!," using the words, "Peace be still!"  From that I took it that, since He asked them why they hadn't done it, He apparently had expected the disciples to have done the same thing and not woke Him up. So...if those guys could have done it, why couldn't we? Where is our faith? So, for years and years (and years, now), I have been doing the same thing. I go outside and yell at loud storms, "Peace be still, in the Name of Jesus!" (hoping the neighbors can't hear their scare't, ditzy neighbor.)   I'm convinced that, as a result, the things we see on the weather radar when we do that is downright amazing. I've had to print out some of them to show family and friends. The storms either stop, or actually part and go around on either side of our neighborhood, then go back together when they get past us...every time! I have an image on my computer of a perfect heart shape in the middle of one really bad storm, which gave me much peace.

  So, I've been taking "speaking Words of God" seriously, and they work! Storms of all sorts, as well. 

  A long time ago I remember hearing about an old lady, who had been informed by her husband that he had spontaneously invited a group of people to their home for supper. She was shocked and let him know that she didn't have enough food to feed such a large, unexpected crowd. Waving off her protests as he left the room, he stated that it wasn't his problem; cooking were her worries. Now, this little old lady was a devout Christian woman, but according to her non-believing husband, she was a little too vociferous in her joyful living for the Lord.   

   Soon, from out in the kitchen, he heard her loudly singing praises and giving thanks to God, "Fishes and loaves...fishes and loaves," and singing in a Heavenly language, as she stirred in her pots and pans. 

  "Crazy woman!" the husband yelled, "She's a crazy woman!" 

  Their guests arrived, were seated and fed all they wanted and there were even several leftovers! She knew that if Jesus could feed the multitude with so very little, just a few small fish and a couple of loaves of bread...He's still with us, so He still can; and He did!

 This also happened with me! One day when I hadn't had time to get groceries that week, I learned that our friends, Mr. Ed and Mrs. Jean, were on their way over for supper! I had completely forgotten they were coming.  As it was, I was scrounging around trying to figure our what to cook for supper to feed five big hungry teenagers. I only found that I had a handful of spaghetti, but then (!) remembering the "crazy woman," knowing there was absolutely no way it was going to feed Mr. Ed, Mrs. Jean, and our family, nonetheless, I stirred the pitiful spaghetti around in the big pot of too much water, and began singing my own made up song, "Fishes and Loaves, Lord, fishes and loaves, please!" and words that only The Lord and I could understand.

  Well, my faith kinda shaky, (of course) I managed to put some bread and butter on the table, a small bowl of salad, and the bowl of spaghetti strings with sauce. For some reason, nobody seemed to notice because they were all talking over one another having a wonderful conversation. They all passed the dishes around, filling their plates with the usual mounds of spaghetti, while enjoying each other's company. Hard to believe, but I, myself, caught up in the conversation, didn't notice until later as I cleared the table, (I hope you believe me)...there was the same amount of spaghetti in that bowl that was in it as when I had first placed it on the table before anyone had taken any out! This is the truth! "Fishes and Loaves." I put all the leftovers in the fridge. 

   Mulling this over, I came to the conclusion that speaking those words might be applied to other situations where there was a need for things to go farther than they should. A lady from our church was about to undergo surgery and was naturally concerned. Meanwhile, she had a dress that I was altering for her. As I was whizzing along on my sewing machine, I noticed that the white thread was about to run out on the bobbin. Not wanting to stop and mess around finding another bobbin or winding up more thread on this one, I started asking, "Fishes and Loaves, Lord? Fishes and loaves, Please?" I kept sewing, waiting for it to run out, but was shocked to see that it had indeed run out, but was still stitching along in gold thread. Gold thread? What?! For those of you, who do not know, bobbins do not...cannot re-thread on their own! What in the world was going on here? 

  A thought sparked in my heart and I knew what to tell my friend. When she next called and began stressing about the fears she was having about the impending surgery, I told her, "If God loves you so very much that He would perform some kind of miracle to have your dress sewn with golden thread, how much more does He care about you, than your dress? Any time you doubt and fear, look at the seams in your dress." (She breezed through the surgery and successfully healed quickly, Praise God.) At times I still pray fishes and loaves over even little things, like bobbin thread.

  So now, whenever I get in a pinch of too little having  too far to go, (and not taking God for granted, being lackadaisical) but, sincerely having accidentally gotten myself backed into a corner, I'm convinced that He's got my back. 

   Knowing this has given me faith to tithe. One Scripture says...and it's true, even of me: "I've been young and now I am old, and I have never seen the righteous (His people...those who love Him) forsaken, or their kids having to beg for bread (food)." So, He makes $ go farther than it should. (We often pray this as we leave our driveway, to ask God to, "Please make Your money go farther than it should." And He does.

  I pray for Fishes and Loaves for my faith to be increased when mine sometimes seems lacking. And...since last Christmas, we've had plenty of things happen to test our faith; Cappy nearly dying in the hospital, identity theft and mail fraud, thus we never got our new tax bill for our home, so someone bought it out from under us without our knowledge. (Thank God for our neighbor, Judge Jude, who saved it for us.) Our bills had been diverted to another address in NYC, by fraudsters, which caused a lot of problems with the telephone, electric co., and all the other businesses with which we deal. So MANY problems popped up from that episode. We pray we've seen the end to that. 

  Then, one by one all the appliances began breaking down, washing machine, dryer, kitchen stove, dishwasher.

  Cappy and I both got some kind of flu whereby, taking turns in the bathroom got rather tenuous, to say it best. Good thing we had a little white curly-haired nurse to curl up with us in bed while we suffered between bouts. 

  Mice and rats took over our walls and attic. This happens every year in our neighborhood when the cutting of the sugar cane fields surrounding our little community begins. And the cat, Claw'd, was no help  whatsoever. This year they got into the kitchen drawers.  Lord, help us. We could hear them in the walls, and attic. Cappy was still too ill to climb up there and take care of the situation, other than to toss poison up there and behind furniture. Oh, the lovely scent of dead rodents emanating from the walls. 

   We began to wonder if we had somehow gotten ourselves cursed. We kept praying as things kept getting worse. During one week when we felt things might be calming down, the hot water heater up there in that yucky rodent-overrun attic exploded, sending down smelly "rain" in the computer room and bathroom. 

   That night Cappy had wearily dragged himself off to bed while I stayed up seeking peace and quiet. As I walked through the hall to go check on the laundry in the bathroom, passing the dark computer room I heard something "tapping" in there. I turned on the light to discover it was raining in there! The cat was sitting on one of the 'shelves' in his cat tower, glowering at me, as 'rain' fell down in front of him from one of the padded seats above.

(Like it was somehow my  fault.) There was an inch and a half of water deep on the floor! I checked the bathroom and sure enough, the whole ceiling was also 'raining' and water was deep on the floor in there, as well. 

  Waking Cappy, he immediately knew that the hot water heater in the attic had burst, so, sick as he was, he weakly trundled up the ladder and turned off the water. 

Getting someone out here to access the situation and begin the remediation took some time.  Meanwhile, on top of everything else going bad, the house began to take on the smell of mold. Not sure if everyone is aware of this, but I am a burn survivor, so this was not healthy for my lungs, so I stayed in our camper for a month or so in the extreme heat of summer, while Cappy and the pets "roughed it" in the house. I did have A/C and despite the hot sticky, humid air outside, some days I ventured onto the patio or visited my shade garden in our rustic "courtyard" area. 

   Life at our place was like living in a storm of chaos. One thing after another breaking down , as if the appliances and circumstances in general were tag teaming us. The day we finally got the new dishwasher put in, the sewer pump in the back yard burned up, creating a stinking watery swamp between the house and shed, and Cappy's beloved cat went missing. My iron stopped working, so we bought a new one and the day the new sewer sump pump was installed, the brand new iron broke. The next day the brand new dishwasher began acting up by not draining and spewing nasty water all over the kitchen floor. The cat came back a week later in fine shape, despite the heartache and worry he had caused, but that night my #1 appliance, the blender fell over and shot shattered glass all over the counter-top, ironing board and floor. 

  Alright, enough already, you get the picture and you have probably been going through a lot yourself. I just say all this to let you know that during all this, despite my Faith, I was not in the best of moods. I knew God was, despite all of our prayers, letting all this happen for a reason, but waiting on finding out what that reason or direction might be, some days was overwhelming. While most days I basked in inexplicable  peace, knowing that God has a plan for a good outcome for all this, still, I admit at times I lost it, crying or acting crabby. 

  I felt so badly for Cappy, who, also going through all the turmoil himself and despite not feeling well most of the time, tried his best to deal with people over the phone and put things to right. He arranged for me to be able to cook our meals outside on the patio.       Everyday, two or three times a day, he carried everything outside, pots, pans, silverware, utensils, ingredients, so I could cook, and then after the meal, he dragged everything back into the house and cleaned up and washed the dishes by hand. 

   He deserves a medal, and not what he got next.

   Being the tugboat captain that he was, living on the boat for weeks or months at a time with engines roaring the whole time, and things shifting or sliding around on surfaces, he put things down with solid purpose. Although he's retired now, he still unconsciously places things very soundly. 

   The patio table is made of tempered glass with a metal edging. With everything else breaking around us, I was nervous about this table top shattering, too. Well, poor guy, his nerves were also bad, so perhaps he placed items onto the table a little harder than usual. So, of course, I "had" to tell him to stop "clunking" things down onto the table so hard. Several times, this one particular day. 

  His plan was to finish his favorite leftovers in the house, while I'd cook some "expensive" gluten free spaghetti for myself on the patio. (...alas, Cappy is married to a mess. Burn survivor and "celiac", who cannot have wheat or gluten. TMI=too much information, I guess...sorry.)

  I can imagine that in all the aggravating shuffle going on with the house and all, and my constantly chiding him about the glass table top, he might have been a little annoyed, and who could blame him. He brought my pasta out and (my perception) slammed the box onto the table.

    I thought, "Oh no...it's fragile uncooked pasta, so now it's probably shattered." I absolutely promise you that I did not react negatively...no eye rolling or complaining, because I am tired of hearing myself nagging or grumbling during this whole house crisis. Besides, it's not a nice quality. I weakly smiled and said, "Thank you," but I guess by then he's had it with me and deliberately "pocked" the big tablespoon hard on the table. 

Well, prissy me, "Not a nice quality?!" I lost it! I sprang out of my chair, thinking,"I'll show him how to slam something on this table! My favorite spaghetti is ruined anyhow." I growled and grabbed the box of spaghetti with both hands, raised it up over my head, intending to hit the table on it's metal edge and scare some sense into him. It never made it to the table; as I angrily swung the box forward, the whole thing shot out of my hands, the clear cellophane wrapper inside burst open as did the box, and dried spaghetti flew everywhere all over the patio bricks!

  I stood there frozen. 

   Cappy asked loudly enough for the neighbors on the next block to hear, "Why did you do that? Why did you throw that expensive spaghetti all over the patio...look at it, it's everywhere, now why did you do that? What I want to know is why did you throw that spaghetti everywhere?" 

   Well, that made me laugh. It was all so absurd. Seems I just can't get away with anything. I can't even throw a successful tantrum. He didn't appreciate my laughing and stated, "Now, see there! You threw a hissy fit for nothing and that's what it got you. So then, what are you going to have for supper? Why did you throw that spaghetti all over the patio, is still what I want to know." (still giggling here)

   Then, he spied the cellophane wrapper with a few strands of spaghetti still in it. I picked it up and said I'd have that with some pasta sauce. I wish I had taken a picture. There were maybe 7 strands left.  The pasta water was boiling on the outdoor propane stove, so I put them in and...well, First, I had to apologize to Cappy and told him that I didn't know the spaghetti was going to fly everywhere like that. (Then I apologized to God for acting like an angry brat.) 

   While Cappy was inside eating his supper, I looked at my few pitiful strands of spaghetti and remembered the "crazy lady." And, knowing that regardless of everything, I'm confident that I'm still God's child, so I began stirring the pan of water, with the few spaghetti strings around in it and sang "Fishes and Loaves, Lord, please" and in my Heavenly language. Silly me, I also love dancing around in the kitchen, so I did that too, dancing and dancing and easily managing not to grab my crotch, not even once, like everybody seems to be doing these days, leastwise on television, anyhow. Then I drained the dismal little pile of limp noodles, put some sauce and grated cheese on it, dumped it into my bowl and began eating it with gratitude that I had anything at all for supper. As I ate, I watched the breezes rustle through the tree branches and listened to the birds singing and flitting about. It was really pleasant. BeauxBear came and joined me, wanting some of whatever I was having, so I fed him strand after strand after strand, thinking what a lovely day it was outside since the weather had cooled a little.

  Presently, I noticed that I was full. I only had a little more in the bowl, so I kept eating to finish it off, but after a bit, I realized that I was positively stuffed and that I couldn't eat another bite! I had to give the rest of it to BeauxBear and after a while he even left a few noodles of it in his bowl!

   I'm still amazed, thinking about this. God's Words are sure powerful!

   So, now, a month and a half or so later, what with the Christmas Season upon us, as Cappy said the other day over the phone, "As gorgeous as the lovely black garbage bags are that y'all put us up for ceilings, we are wondering when your guys are gonna come back and finish the repairs."  The man does have a way with words.

    We are hunkered in this tiny house with the insides looking much like a hoarder's den, but we know...we TRUST, like Cappy's beloved, cantankerous, wonderful "Aint (aunt) Gussy" (God rest her sweet ol' soul) used to quote, "This, too, shall pass." And so, our Faith and Joy intact, we are believing that these are Words to live by. And Lord Willing, so we shall.