Back

Now that I am back from summer vacation and holidays, it is time for school to start. September is the store call for “Back to School” savings. The streets will be quieter now that the children are back in school and traffic won’t be backed up until after the bell rings at 3:30. I don’t like to get my back up about erratic drivers, but then again, when someone backs up into my bumper in the parking lot, I can get very irritated. Back to the story.

It used to be that we had to backup all our computer files, but now we have google docs. We used to say, “be right back” and now we just text an emoji or leave a voice message. Friends had each other’s backs but we still pat babies on their backs to get that burp up. Most of the time we can back up our truths with facts and still caress a lover’s back. Do people still have backbones to stand up against injustices like bullies?

When I look back in time, it astounds me how things have changed. Even the greenback isn’t worth as much today and there is a lot more push back from different segments of society. It raises the hair on the back of some politician’s necks. We would say, “back in the day” or “if we could just push back time” then things would be different. Oh how wonderful things were then. Some days I just want to slide back down under the covers and let the memories come back to me. Other days I sit in the sun as it shines on the back of my head and a bird perches on the back fence watching me write.

My most interesting days are when I see the stooped, white-haired lady in my neighborhood, only visible to those watching, shuffle and shuttle her feet along the grey concrete sidewalk to check her mail at the mailboxes. She is certainly not invisible to me and I dash from what I am doing to greet her and engage in conversations of “back in the day”. As we stroll along, she recalls tales of her childhood and her memory extends from years so far back that even some history books can’t capture all the details of events passed long ago during her lifetime. She recounts tales of yesteryear. She leans her head back as we sit on the bench midway through our stroll and she asks me, “Will he ever come back?”

Is she indicating the empty nest in the oak tree above our heads? Perhaps she is referring to a lost lover. And so I ask her, “Who?”

Her reply back to me is simply one word, “Jesus.”

So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him. Matthew 24:44

if

Why do we want proof or conditions? “If” you do this; then I will do that. “If” you show me this, then I’ll believe you,” Gideon was such a man who wanted proof of God’s promises. In Judges 6: God tells Gideon he is going to save Israel out of Midian’s hand. Gideon doesn’t believe God and in 16, The Lord answered, “I will be with you, and you will strike down all the Midianites, leaving none alive.”

17 Gideon replied, “If now I have found favor in your eyes, give me a sign that it is really you talking to me. 18 Please do not go away until I come back and bring my offering and set it before you.” Gideon continues to seek proof.

When I was teaching, I would often use children’s books to convey varous ideas. One particular lesson, I used the books by Laura Numeroff, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie and If You Give a Moose a Muffin. These books are described as “circular tales” or “slippery slope” stories.

The premise in critical thinking shows there is an argument to demonstrate that one small step (the “if) can lead to a chain of events ending in some significant effect. The crazy thing is that this type of argument is a form of fearmongering. The organization or person, takes the probable consequences of an action, exaggerates them in an attempt to scare others. Sounding familiar?

The Arabs share a fable from 1858 called “the camel’s nose in the tent.” I was intrigued by the story. An Arab miller allows a camel to stick his nose into his bedroom, then the head, legs and body until the camel is inside the room and refuses to leave. Apparently, the story is a metaphor for the situation where the permitting of a small seeminly, innocent act opens the door for undesirable actions. The moral of the fable is: It is wise rule to resist the beginnings of evil.

The bible has numerous warnings about this. In James 4:7, he reminds us to “Resist the devil and he will flee from you!”

Perhaps we bring fear upon ourselves by conjuring up all sorts of horrible events that we believe will happen. That one thought (What if?) leads to others and soon we are frantic with worry. After the incident passes and nothing major happens, we wonder why we wasted all that energy on “what if?”

What if we thought differently and changed our train of thought? What if we didn’t live in fear? What if we followed the words in scripture and filled our minds with (Philippians 4: 7-9)?  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. Have a worry-free day!

lexical

As many of you know, I love words. Derivatives, prefixes, meanings, origins and spelling are interesting, but I mostly find words when I am reading. Another thing I love to do! And after those smoky, hazy, hot days lends oneself to absorbing time in a book or being lackadaisical, I am now thankful for cloudy but blue skies!

I am a typical, logical person who isn’t much of a radical, unless I find a subject that can make me cynical. Then I can get finical.

What I have discovered, is that there is no suffix “-cal”. There are some words that end with -ic and others with -ical which basically means the same thing. Apparently this formation came about in the late Latin composition of adjectives. “Al” is really the suffix which means relate to, process of or an action.

And action I did take when a few relatives requested that we visit the Vincent Van Gough art exhibit. As one walks into the irenic building, there are quotes, frames and paintings along a patterned walk. In each room, the doorway leads one on to a new experience. The paintings move in sync throughout the room and depict Vincent’s life and show the autobiographical nature of his work. The experience was magical, mystical and truncal. As we walked through the moving colors that started at the nodical and domical space, it was very truncal! As I stood in front of his “Starry Night”, I was monomanical and mezmorzied. Even a stoical person would find elation as they stood in the every-changing landscape of the walls and floors and be moved by the musical compositions that matched the paintings. It reminds me of being in nature and a few biblical passages from Psalm 104

Praise the Lord, my soul.

Lord my God, you are very great;
    you are clothed with splendor and majesty.

 The Lord wraps himself in light as with a garment;
    he stretches out the heavens like a tent
    and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters.
He makes the clouds his chariot
    and rides on the wings of the wind.
 He makes winds his messengers,
    flames of fire his servants.

 He set the earth on its foundations;
    it can never be moved.
 You covered it with the watery depths as with a garment;
    the waters stood above the mountains.
 But at your rebuke the waters fled,
    at the sound of your thunder they took to flight;
 they flowed over the mountains,
    they went down into the valleys,
    to the place you assigned for them.
 You set a boundary they cannot cross;
    never again will they cover the earth.

As I sit on my deck in the late evening hours and gaze at the sky on the days when I can see the stars or when I see a spectacular sunset or view the majestic mountains, I marvel at God’s painbrush and art work. I know that his wonders can be seen every day and each stroke of His hand gives the birds their colors, the flowers their blossoms and the landscapes their beauty. How blessed we are to view the earth as God’s canvas. Be sure to get outside and enjoy these glorious days!

gardening

Here we are in the season of fresh fruit and vegetables ready to harvest. It has been a very hot, smoky, dry summer with little rain, yet my garden is producing carrots, zucchini and beets. Why? Perhaps because I have been tending to it and watering it daily.

I have also been through this season of summer enjoying, not only the bountiful garden and blooming flowers but venturing into the backroads and trails on foot and bike enjoying the warm days and quiet, calm evenings, but have seen the devastating drought and ruined crops. The rain has not come for many farmers.

We have also been through a season of discontent, uncertainty and discord in our global world and yet, when the shadow of the darkness covers the garden of my soul, I look to the living water. In the shadow of the evening, leaves are still, flowers close up and sunlight can’t permeate the folded petals or foilage of the forest to let the light in. I want to remember that heaven’s dew falls after the setting of the sun and I need to experience the darkness to see the light, the color, the cheerfulness and beauty of the garden because eventually morning will come. In Exodus 16:21, the Israelites gathered manna each morning, each family according to its need and when the sun grew hot, it melted away. God supplied their needs.

A Long Walk to Water was a #1 New York Times best-selling novel. Linda Sue Park weaves the stories of Ny, a Sudanese girl and Salva, also an eleven-year-old, one of the “lost boys of Sudan” into a novel of two children who encounter danger, yet live to improve the lives of others. She based the novel on Salva Dut, a survivor, who found Water for South Sudan. They overcame many obstacles on their journey on foot across Africa.

We will encounter struggles and go through the valley of tears, pain and sorrow in our lifetimes, but God has been and is with us every step of this life and we need to count each day as a blessing. We need to learn that God is the gardener of our souls. He knows how to tend to our gardens, make us fruitful and will see us through seasons of sadness into brighter tomorrows if we trust him. The flowers, fruit and abundance will be displayed and the flowers will bloom for us each year in full color as they wave in the wind in all their splendor. Let Him water your soul and let His words sink into the soil of your life. Let the living water bring you nourishment and quench your thirst and sustain you.

“…but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” John 4:14

pop

Things sometimes pop up that need tending to. This is one of those summers.

As kids, we would make homemade popsicles and drink orange Crush pop in summers gone by. Our American cousins would tease us about drinking sodas, but we used our mom’s Tupperware, mixed the Koolaide with water and created our own popsicles anxiously awaiting the frozen treats. Sometimes we used to buy the packaged orange, purple and pink ones as well and try to divide them down the middle to share with our siblings. When we camped, we’d pop our popcorn over the fire and we’d listen to Pop music any time of the day. Relatives also used to pop in for a visit - some announced and some not. And grandpa or Pops would tease us about how much we had grown and popped up in height. Today, there are pop up shops and occasionally people pop by to see me. And so you might be wondering: What popped up?

And here’s where it all began 28 years ago….. it’s the backstory. Teach your children they’re unique. That way, they won’t feel pressured to be like everybody else. Cindy Cashman

After I had picked up my son, Tyrone from kindergarten one day, he told me that he was sad. When I asked him why, he said that they had been reading a story about a dinosaur named Tyrone the Terrible (https://www.amazon.ca/Tyrone-Horrible-Hans-Wilhelm/dp/0590414720) and he was getting teased. Being a mamma bear, I immediately jumped into defense mode and an idea popped into my head. I would solve the problem by writing a book about how terrific he was, not how terrible they thought he was. I commissioned a friend’s son to dabble with graphics using the original Mac and create a storyboard based on my stanza story. That was then.

Now fast forward to 2019 pre-COVID days when I am retired and retrieved my original story from my archived folder. A friend wanted an art project for her daughter and thus the story came alive again with new technology and the gift of a talented artist when she agreed to create characters for my story. And here we are 2021 and the project is complete and ready to be printed and published!

I am excited about this project that is over a quarter of a century in the making! In honor of children, I would like to donate $5 of the $15 I am charging for the book, to a daycare, dayhome and kindergarten to purchase other books in support of children’s authors. Tyrone the Terrific will be available on my website: www.lorriemorales.com as well as various stores in High River and area. Stay tuned for an eye-popping book to purchase for your child, grandchildren, friends and family before the end of the summer.

Even when I am old and gray,
do not forsake me, my God,
till I declare your power to the next generation,
your mighty acts to all who are to come. Psalm 71:18

angels

I am back…. little summer solitude.

”For He will give His angels charge concerning you, to guard you in all your ways.“ Psalm 91:11

When translated, this means that God instructs His angels to watch over individuals. Each angel has a purpose and God has them guard his children and care for them. Satan even used this verse when he was tempting Jesus.

I have many miracle stories, angel stories and answered prayer stories.

Years ago, I was in a ski accident, left alone on the side of a mountain bleeding internally. After hours of calling for help, praying, crying out in pain, God sent an angel to that mountainside and I was rescued. You see, months after I got out of the hospital I went in search of that man. No one had heard of him and they told me no one by that name worked at the resort. An angel.

Just last week I heard a story about the pastor of a church in Barrie, Ontario who felt the need to go to the church and pray for protection for his community. Little did he know that within hours there was a devastating tornado that ripped through the community. Not one life was lost and even though roofs were torn off houses, not one shingle of the church was touched.

Another story occured in Africa to a young missionary man who was serving in a small field hospital. He was home to the United States on furlong and was visiting a local church in Michigan. He told the congregation his story.

Apparently he would travel by bicycle through the jungle every two weeks to the city to buy supplies. It took about two days, so he would camp overnight. On one occasion in the city, he saw two men fighting and after the brawl, he treated one of the men’s injuries and shared the story of Jesus with him. Two weeks later, he was met by the young man he had treated who told him that he and his friends knew that the missionary carried money and medicine and they had followed him planning to kill him and rob him. Just as they were about to do so, he said they saw the 26 armed guards surrounding the camp. The missionary laughed. “I was all alone that night.”

“But I saw them and so did my friends. We even counted them and we were afraid for our lives and left you alone,” replied the young man.

At that point in the story, one of the men in the church jumped up and asked, “Do you remember the date this happened?” The missionary told him and then another story was told.

When you were sleeping in your camp on the other side of the world, I was getting ready to go golfing. You suddenly came to mind and I felt the need to pray for you. In fact, he said, I called some of the men in the church and they met me here to pray as well.

“Can all those men who prayed with me please stand up?”

The missionary didn’t know who they were, but he counted 26 of them standing in the santuary that morning.

God works in mysterious ways. When we feel the power of the Holy Spirit moving in us, we need to follow that prod and pray. We never know whose life we might be saving. May His angels watch over you.