"The Time Had Come... So Marvin Went"

When I was a little girl, around 3 years old, we had this book about 'a guy who wouldn't go.'  I couldn't read, but I had most of the book memorized!  Mom and Dad must have read it countless times to me.  The book was called Marvin K Mooney, by Dr. Seuss.  For some reason, never explained, the person telling the story (represented by a hand with a watch) wanted Marvin to leave. Marvin must have been being very annoying, because the person was so exasperated with poor Marvin.

Marvin K Mooney

I don't care how

Marvin K Mooney 

Will you please go now!

Well, the stubborn little guy didn't go, even with all the suggestions of how to go, and illustrations showing the possibility of each, Marvin stayed.  And then, at the end, Marvin went. Unceremoniously, he just up and left.  To a small child the change was startling (every time), why did Marvin go?  The only explanation given was: 

The time had come... So Marvin went.

Well, it was a cute story that illustrated to me that there was a time to go and a time to stay.  Marvin was both stubborn and compliant.  The question that was never solved was "How did Marvin know the time had come?"  

I haven't written in awhile, because I was pretty much told that no one wanted to read it.  Now, I don't give in easily, so I continued to write for awhile - besides, I wasn't writing for an audience.  I honestly don't know who reads this- if any.... blogging isn't as popular as it once was.  Next, someone told me that my writing showed that I thought I was better than others - that gave me pause.  Then, I was told I my choice of music was archaic (that one could be true).  So, I stopped. I don't remember giving up. I just quit one day.   I didn't leave because it was time to go, I just left.  

Recently, I was asked why I had stopped blogging and would I continue? At the time, I remember making the comparison (yes, in my adult mind) to Marvin.  I was like Marvin; the time had come, so I went.  I had said my piece and I was no longer a blogger.  But, I was left questioning my rational - was I really like Marvin?  Is that even a legitimate comparison? 

Well, I am back.  Maybe the time hasn't come, or maybe I am not like Marvin.  As, I begin to write again, I now have two  more questions to answer.  1. Why did I stop?   2. Why did I come back?   More on that in the next post.... because the time has come .... for today. 

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven." 
Ecc. 3:1

This Side of the Looking Glass

So many times, as a single woman, you ask yourself if you really know your purpose in life.   For me, those early foggy fall mornings on the way to work envelope me with questions of identity and purpose.  Is life really about getting married?  Does it bring fulfillment different then what I have now?  Is that what my true purpose is?  But what if I never marry...I most likely won't... should I go work at an orphanage?  Why do we always think orphanage?  I just don't want to be a lonely, bitter, aimless old lady.

***

My thoughts drifted to my closest guy friend.  He was the closest thing to a best friend I could imagine in a guy. We could talk. Pretty much about anything.  Recently, it had become increasingly different.  Little things, nothing too spectacular, just a closeness that wasn't there before. He started to like me in a different way, or maybe he always had.  I too had been changing, or noticing change, I don't know.  Did I like him?  Maybe. Yes.  I loved him in someway, but I wasn't planning on this.  Was this right? 

***

The rain was very fitting.  Streams of silver droplets poured down my windshield, side mirror, and even when I looked at the pavement, the red reflection of the stop light shone ugly on the dank, dark, slimy tarmac.  I sighed.  Yes, the rain was very fitting.  It was crying for me.  Crying instead of me.  I couldn't cry, I was too tired.  Too weary.  Just dull inside.  Was I grieving? No, not really.  Depressed really.  I didn't have anything to cry about and I knew it.  He had asked to make it more serious, and changed his mind.  It was over.  I laughed softly, almost bitterly, to myself.  Whatever it was.  Somehow, I knew we were still friends, but now forever at a distance.  

Why had I gotten myself into this? Why did I let this happen?  What I am to do now? What does life hold?  The orphanage seemed far away and yet somehow maybe the only road.  Tibet. Tibet was far. 

Now, why in the world - Tibet?  I asked myself.  And realized it wasn't Tibet, Nigeria, or overseas that lay on my heart - it was my own selfish wish to ease an ache that clung to my heart and cried out to my brain.  I could hear it's pitiful wail - "I'm broken! Broken in two! Pity with me, for no one can fix this now."  

No, I said to my miserable heart, You are not broken. Maybe bruised, definitely tired, but not broken. Besides, I knew that God is the healer of the broken in heart, and He is only one and He was in control.  Since the beginning of my friendship (years), I had been praying - calling out to God to direct, stop, or help, whichever it was we needed.  This I knew. God was in control and it was the only thing I could cling to. 

***

To be continued.....

I am contemplating writing a book, but am not sure exactly how to start, so I think I will draw on my own experiences, and maybe work in the details of my heritage and past that is full of strange little stories, real heart breaks, mystery, and of course romance.  And here I have decided to practice. 

Maybe, I will indeed be able to write and finish writing this book:

_____________________________________

title to be determinded

Keep Me Safe till the Storm Passes By

In the dark of the midnight have I oft hid my face,
While the storm howls above me, and there's no hiding place.
'Mid the crash of the thunder, Precious Lord, hear my cry,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.


Many times Satan whispered, "There is no need to try,
For there's no end of sorrow, there's no hope by and by"
But I know Thou art with me, and tomorrow I'll rise
Where the storms never darken the skies

When the long night has ended and the storms come no more,
Let me stand in Thy presence on the bright peaceful shore;
In that land where the tempest, never comes, Lord, may I
Dwell with Thee when the storm passes by.

Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,
Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;
Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

The Measure of A Man

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments

of comfort and convenience, but where he stands

at times of challenge and controversy."

~

I am not sure what originally brought the phrase to mind, but the phrase has haunted my mind for a few days now. The measure of a man. Was it a verse? Was it a quote? Where had I heard it? Why do I know there is more to the phrase? Thus it had been haunting me.

After pondering the phrase for quite awhile, I finally dropped it into google. (When in doubt --google, right?) Well, I really shouldn't have bothered with googling it. For the random selection from our favorite search engine was mind boggling and wasted much of my time. Of course, I strayed wayyyy off track. I did find one good quote (not the quote I seeking.)

The quote , attributed to Martin Luther King Jr., I have pasted above. I like this quote-- holds a lot of significance to it, especially, in view of who spoke the words. However, the part that struck me most was the phrase "at times of challenge".

I started to wonder on the "challenge". Specifically, challenge as in when one person's ideas are specifically challenged. I am not interested in "taking of a challenge", "the mountain hike was a challenge", or " I challenge you to a dual." I am merely interested in the following concept.

How do you react when who you are and your ideas are challenged?

Martin Luther King Jr declared the measure of a man to be where he stands at times of challenge. Perhaps, he is right. However, I was still not satisfied in my search. I think I would like to know the true "measure of a man." I think the concept would vary from person to person, or country to country. The media seems to portray the measure of a man by his strength or perhaps courage. Of course, in many aspects this appeals to us, and that is why the concept works so well for propaganda. But, no, not getting into propaganda at this point.

Some days passed before I searched the phrase in e-sword. (E-sword is an amazing program, if you are not familiar with the program, I heartily advise you to download it. Providing you have a relatively newer computer with enough memory space.)

Well, E-sword was successful. One verse. Correct number of beats/syllables. (I could only remember the rhythm.) And this was the verse:

And he measured the wall thereof, an hundred and forty and four cubits,

according to the measure of a man, that is, of the angel.

Rev 21:17

And what does it mean? I laughed when the realization dawned on me that all this pondering lead to a rather off beat little verse that was merely describing the length of a wall! Yes, technically, I understand what the verse is saying. But what I am still wondering is --why?

Why does God specify that the measurement was according to man's measurement system, then clarifying that in reference to the angel? Why the play on words, accidental, coincidence?

I suppose it's simple, if He had said "normal measurement", we's have asked what is normal? If He had said "according to the angel's measuring stick", we'd have said we don't have an angel measuring stick. If He had said according to a man's standard measurement, we have imperial and metric arguments.

Or would we? Maybe we wouldn't even notice.

God took the time to write it, I wonder why?

~

The Road Most Wondered

The Road Most Wondered

There is a road most wondered

Tis called the road of life

For both the ancients and the moderns

This wonder causes strife

For no one ever quite can tell

Nor answer how or why

Or tell the utmost purpose

Nor when a man will die

The outside nor the inside

The reason past or future

The value here and now

Yet a little whisper

Comes from the bend ahead

Come all ye weary ones

REST, is what He said.