Does God Laugh?

God is funny and sometimes I think I humor Him. In all my lowly ways, I don't always comprehend my own lowliness. For goodness sake, we have internet! Doesn't that lift me up to some higher plane or loftier way?

It all started in Tuesday's post, "Storms..". Once again disaster was averted, probably from the prayers of a 9yr old boy (again). And where was I? By golly, I was fact-finding, because I just need to know. Ya know?

My prayers were stifled among information and the more info the better. At least prepared anyway, I'm better preparing us for...whatever. Seriously, when is over-preparation just down right un-preparation? Thank goodness my husband and I have enough sense to prepare our boys in their spiritual walks. Because sometimes what we pour into them, pours right back into us. Would that be like a backsplash or worse, backwash?

So in the midst of my "noble" efforts, out backwashes my 9yr old praying for our safety in a tornadic storm. Uh, yes, he prayed while I was still thinking of more preparations. Well that is, until the kryptonite nullified my "powers" (as in t.v., internet, cellphone service, ELECTRICITY). Leaving me to sit (in the safest spot) on a toilet and humbly wait for the storm to pass. My flailing attempt to lean on my understanding brought me to the point of sitting on it. A literal pot in the lowliest of places (bathroom), in the darkest of spaces (no electricity) and reminded I should've been praying by little faces (my children).

Which brings me to the scripture that came to mind after all this. It's not the way I had originally interpreted the scripture. A verse in the midst of fat calves and curses.

In times before, when my Hubby and I displayed our prayer life, or gratitude to God, when we've walked our faith in front of our children, their hearts were turned to the Father. And when I walk by sight and not by faith, these children have turned this heart of mine to the Father. But then again, scripture is alive, active, and sharper than a sword. And that my friend, my Warrior son will tell you all about (our youngest). He loves swords and learned that scripture this week ("Thanks Larah!"). Perhaps you'll read it and get something totally different. But aren't we all different anyway? Even a little weird at times or maybe that's just me.

God's humor catches me and I enjoy the times I find it. Laughter is good medicine. After all, God created humor because He created us. He made us in all our quirkiness. That's what makes being a part of His body, interesting. You are different than me, and gladly so, let me tell you. Each piece has a part and may your part find a little cheer today. In the midst of whatever you're going through, I pray some humor will shine through and maybe, just maybe, you'll feel His heart for you. And smile.


"Then our mouth was filled with laughter,
And our tongue with singing.
Then they said among the nations,
'The LORD has done great things for them.'
The LORD has done great things for us,
And we are glad." Psalm 126:2&3


"And he will turn
The hearts of the fathers to the children,
And the hearts of the children to their (Heavenly)fathers.." Malachi 4:6

Today I'm humorously walking. This is a belated "Walk With Him Wednesday" at Ann's place. For more walks just click here.

Storms--They Rolled In & I'm Still Learning

They said it would come, but you never know if it really will. So I slept. Mindless of the possibility of any truth, I closed my eyes and succumbed to the day's end. Until I heard the first of it. Thunder.

So I walk by braille and memory, to the living room. My eyes still too heavy to fully open. Plopping down on my comfy couch to listen to the news, the weatherman now giving a full-time update. I listen because my ears don't require any lifting like my eyelids do.

A possible tornado is reported on the ground far enough south of us for my continued attempt to halfway pay attention with my ears. In it I hear how extreme it is, a severe front. Big winds. Lots of rotations. It's moving fast and "Hurry up already!" is running through my mind.

Something said from the t.v. requires a look, a peeling back of eyelids. Another tornado warning, this time just south of friends and heading right for our area, my house. Ok, weatherman, you have my attention. Just when the t.v. goes out. Are you kidding me? A black screen stares back. (Un)great! But no problem, I still have my trusty computer for the National Weather's page. Yep. Confirmed, "tornado warning". I'm so thankful for the internet, until the power...goes out. All of it. This requires another look. Outside. Wind is whipping my pecan trees like rag dolls.

Precaution is the plan now, grabbing the kids to hang out in the center bathroom. Pillows, blankets, and a cell phone for a light, we sit in the bathroom. Ahem, my oldest now says, "Mom, I think we should pray." Of which I reply "Oh yea! Good idea!" (Should've been mine, I know.) So my Analytical guy says it short and to the point. After which I resume the waiting while I use the pot as my chair and a cell phone for light.

Hey, I still have my cell phone, with internet! Well, ok, the internet is too sloooow. So I use it to call my neighbors, who happen to be my parents and see what they're up too. I'm in business. They have a weather scanner running on batteries. So I get updates again. Just when we get totally...disconnected. Seriously? Too much interference and who knows what else. So now, the phone really is used just as a (flash)light. In the middle of a dark bathroom with me sitting on the pot, I have to be quiet and just listen. And trust. And wait. And just plain sit. I have a feeling I need to be here more often.

I know it's glaring. And really, why do I wait so long? I try to figure things out, thinking knowledge is better. Perhaps, I think it gives me a little control too. When really, I just need to stop and trust. Trust that I don't need to know everything. Stop looking for answers and look to Him for the answer. At times, prayer comes first and I overflow in it to Him, and other times, I'm caught up in information-gathering. It goes against our fleshy nature, to give it up,all up at all times, and give it all to Him. I don't want to wait for another storm outside my house or in my life to learn it. Nor do I want my own resources working my salvation. Thankfully, information is NOT God. And in the silence of it, I hear His voice as thunder. In the darkness of it, I see His power bolting in the sky. In the passing of it, I sense Him speaking of Who He is. And that took a pot-sitting night to be reminded of it.

For this Tuesday, I'm unwrapping dark bathrooms (& no electricity for 2 days). For more unwrappings, visit Emily's place at "Chatting At The Sky".


"Hear attentively the thunder of His voice,
And the rumbling that comes from His mouth.
He sends it forth under the whole heaven,
His lightning to the ends of the earth.
After it a voice roars;
He thunders with His majestic voice,
And He does not restrain them when His voice is heard.
God thunders marvelously with His voice;
He does great things which we cannot comprehend." Job 37:2-5

Love Doesn't Make It Easy--Life After Caregiving Granny

It pushes up through the barren earth and stretches skyward. Touched by warmth and light, it opens. Like a beacon tall, they speak. Pure white held by green, they stand and show. Linked like friends sharing in the beauty of together, they cluster.

When did they fall? Why did I glory in their arriving, yet missed their end? How did life take my eyes off their evolving, their falling? But it did. Bursting on the scene, spring demands attention. It rings in the season by it's showy display. Then it slowly fades, the days, weeks, ebbing away. As it goes, we miss their passing; are absent in their leaving. Why do I herald their blooms then forget them soon? Why do I rush ahead and leave the present behind?

There is something for the now. A time of dropping the busy of things, to a time of watching the dropping of spring. I don't want to miss it. The ebbing of life, the falling of seasons, the bursting of change, or the moments of passing. These lilies came for their purpose and time. I want to be present and acknowledge the little things passing my way. Details among the small, He is there. I don't want to miss it. The blooming in warmth, the ending of beginnings, and the quiet falling of change.

Last year was a 9 months-long journey of caregiving my Granny. She passed away in August '09. So many miracles were involved in our times with her and our times of getting here to her. But in them was also great sacrifice. Caregiving a terminally ill family member requires much. Where each day is laden with survival, not just for her, but for us too. Days passed in the blurr of needs, hers over ours. Prayers faltered from exhaustion. Moments tangled in the mangled mess of daily decline. Our own adding with each of hers. Driven to the bottom of the pit of self, darkened by a need of help when none was available. Clawing at any hand that reached our way, so we could find hope & maybe a tinge of rest.

The days passed in a heap. Hours marched in battle weary bodies. Strength evaporated between moments of doing. Life moved on and seemed forsaken among the giving and taking. But it was worth it, in the end.

Little did I know the depths it would plunge us. The price it'd extract. But He ended it quickly, peacefully, even miraculously. Suddenly the end came and the next season burst on the scene. When did I re-enter the land of the living? How did breathing became normal and not desperate surviving gulps? Leaving the daze has been slow, fading like those flowers. I wouldn't trade one day, one hour, one aching second we spent with her. One day, I hope for a family reunion with my Granny. But for now, I'm living again. I don't want to miss it. Not just in lilies and spring but in life.



Join me in gratitude at Ann's place "Holy Experience". Mine starts here:

Gratitude in...

101. Remembering (not living) the dark days behind me.

102. Enjoying the seasons and fully embracing their change.

103. Feeling the joy bubbling over among the promises of Him.

104. Resting. And being able to truly have it.

105. Great conversations with Granny.

106. Being a part of her journey to home, even when I mourned the home we left in Indiana.

107. God’s gracious mercy that carried us through the end.

108. Eyes that see, anew.

109. Breath that feels like spring in the soul.

110. Feeling His hand in the small baby steps of care, through the darkness of needs greater than ours, and in the newness of life. I’ve been born again, not just in spirit, but in season too.

Ruins Are Ugly--But Beauty Begins

She used to live here. Fortified against the elements, wholly framed she lived. But it was a place built by her own hands. A steel-beamed core that held it together.


The winds didn’t threaten at first. Those self breezes, of “If it makes you happy” & “I’ll never be the victim...”, seemed good. Little did she know the lifting in their blowing. The pieces plucking away. The building under her ministering hands, failing.

And in it’s pulling, His Spirit tugging. Yet weakness crumbles so strength remains. It’s one she’s relied on. Her own muscles working. Her own stamina going. Her own conditioning setting the pace.

The loosening doesn’t seem like much. Until the storm comes. Sometimes we need the storms, to see Jesus. Calling us to come out on the water to walk. From the boat of security and safety which keeps us inside. Perhaps a boat built with our own hands.

Sometimes it takes desolation and ruins. Those ugly places. Ones we try to hide and ones we loathe to share. Ones He loves. Because in their tearing, is His healing. In their ugly is His beauty. In their shame is His glory. In their waste is His filling. In their ruin is His rebuilding.

No pleasure is found among them. A shelter ripped among rubble. Places of habitation, desolate. It’s destruction by our own inability to truly preserve it. Our own hands that built also marred by their tearing. Let them stop, those busy hands. Let it fall, the places propped up in our strength.

In its weakness and it’s ugliness, is the end. Of self or the lies of self. The ones that say we can do it in our own. The ones that hold the banner of “Do Not Disturb”, I’ve got this. Really.

Let it crumble. And in the ruin is treasure. Beauty. Allowing the hands that built, hold the Hands that rebuild.


(The picture is ugly. A real part of the rebuilding of our place. A former thriving structure, ripped and shattered by storms and winds. It sits on our farm and is a sight I pass by to the beautiful meadows (see former post) just beyond this forlorn waste. Not a proud picture to share. Just like parts of my life. But I’ve given those ruins to the One who is able and delights to rebuild. And He has. And He is. For more on my turning point journey, click on "Wonder Woman Complex.." & "Submitted--In Love".)

Ps. I shared this at "Heart to Heart" with Holley. I've learned: When He's in it, the ruins are birthing places for beauty. Lean on Him, give it to Him and watch Him turn it beauty from ashes.


"And with this the words of the prophets agree, just as it is written:
‘ After this I will return
And will rebuild the tabernacle of David, which has fallen down; I will rebuild its ruins,
And I will set it up;
So that the rest of mankind may seek the LORD,
Even all the Gentiles who are called by My name,
Says the LORD who does all these things.’” Acts 15:15&16

“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon Me,
Because the LORD has anointed Me
To preach good tidings to the poor;
He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives,
And the opening of the prison to those who are bound…
To comfort all who mourn…
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.”
And they shall rebuild the old ruins,
They shall raise up the former desolations,
And they shall repair the ruined cities…
I will greatly rejoice in the LORD,
My soul shall be joyful in my God;
For He has clothed me with the garments of salvation..’”
Isaiah 61:1-4 & 10

Weariness Creeps

It enters not flesh and bones,
but in the soul.
It seeps in
and I feel it’s pull.
It makes drowsy,
and thoughts are laid to rest.
In times of we can,
but we don’t,
because we wait.

In times of dreams,
down a long road
because we choose.
In times of plenty
and still
we want more.

Weariness creeps.
The thing of patience
takes its toll.
The squeezing of vanity
and pride from days in ‘Egypt’.
The humbleness of change
and allowing it.
The choice of staying
and not running.

Weariness creeps.
In a promised land
of ‘milk and honey’,
provision abundant.
Yet we pause
from rushing ahead
and work in right now.
The moments stretch long
yet in them is much.
Blessings appear smaller
yet they loom large,
I need only count them.
My eyes grow dim
all the tasks at hand
yet each a redemptive work
in our hands.
A model of Him,
His redemptive work
in us through this land.

Weariness creeps.

Tonight I go to the well
of others
His Spirit-abiding
church of flesh.
Perhaps to quietly sit
and draw it in,
focusing outside
of where I am.
Because it’s not really about me
but about Him.

Psalm 39:7 “And now, Lord, what do I wait for? My hope is in You."

(This week has been one of weary for me. Where my soul longs to reach the end of the road. It's a goal, which literally, is at the end of a road on our farm. In it holds the promise of tomorrow, but today it holds many hours, days, weeks, of redeeming work. This neglected farm is a progress of change. Though we are able to make a different choice, we don't, we stay, we trudge on. May it's change keep me changed.)


Join me in gratitude at Ann's Place "Holy Experience". My gratitude begins here:

90. Wells of fellowship where just being with, is enough to fill me up.

91. Refreshing prayer and people who share.

92. Where His Spirit abides in others and my weary melts away among them.

93. Hearing a Sunday morning message through someone other than the speaker who spoke it. Their interpretation—‘It was good.’

94. Laughter on a front porch with a friend.

95. Thankful for the seasons, because each has a purpose and a time of beauty before it passes.

96. The early blooms of spring that bring hope.

97. The meadows turning green, reminding me of the promise in change.

98. My kids playing on the same farm road I played on at their age and thankful for the wide open space of it all.

99. Sharing spaces with my family, ones lived in and played on, years before they came to know it.

100. Learning to live, among the rubble, each cleansing step of the way. Though this farm, in disrepair, needs our hands to clear and clean it, I too need His hands to clean me.

Rising From The Ashes

The scars were there,
a witness
to all who passed this way.
The darkness seen,
a testimony
arrayed in blackness.
The shape of help,
a prayer
uttered in need.
The space was charred,
a flame
that burned away.
And yet...
The change has come,
a season
of hardened days of cold.
The time of life,
a rebirth
of beauty from ashes.
The old replaced,
a visage
of Him making all things new.

--Tammy

Today I'm unwrapping a rebirth from scars. Because sometimes it takes a fire to usher in the new. Not just in nature, but inside of us too. For more unwrappings visit Emily at "Chatting at the Sky".



This was how it used to look. For the backstory click on "...Licking The Flame" for its beginning.

More Than Empty

Did you just hear what I said?! I totally agree with you, nothing like this has ever happened before. But I'm telling you not only is He NOT there, He's alive! It's like Lazarus only better.

I just heard it from two of our friends! They were walking to town and some Man joined them. They talked for a while and were discussing about how He died and the tomb is empty. Just like me and you, they talked about how we thought Jesus was the One, but now He's gone. They spent the day discussing all these bizarre things with this Man.

Then they recognized. It. Was. Jesus! They ran so hard to tell the others, they could hardly breathe. Their gasps for air made it hard to understand them at first. I could barely believe what they were saying. But wait! It gets better. While they were telling the Disciples all about what happened, He came! Right there in the middle of them. He said: "Why are you troubled? And why do doubts arise in your hearts? Behold My hands and My feet, that is I Myself. Handle Me and see, for spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see I have."

The proof was right there on His hands and feet! He even knew we doubted. It's like He knew every thought we've ever had.

This doesn't even compare to that day when we saw Him coming into the city. Wow. My face is already hurting from smiling so hard. It's better than anything we would have guessed.

He's alive, I tell ya! This changes everything.


(What passed away was glorious, but what remains is even more glorious. Our hope is beyond the emptiness. By a new convenant, it's filled with promise. No longer restricted by an earthly location, Christ is available to all through the Holy Spirit. And no imagination is needed for the reality of that Promise; only faith is needed.)

This perspective is from Luke 24:9-39


"..If what is passing away was glorious, what remains is much more glorious. Therefore, since we have such hope, we use great boldness of speech—...Now the Lord is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord." 2 Corinthians 3:11-12&17-18

"Then He took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, 'Drink from it, all of you. For this is My blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.'" Mathew 26:27&28

“'If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word; and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our home with him....These things I have spoken to you while being present with you. But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you. Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. You have heard Me say to you, ‘I am going away and coming back to you.’ If you loved Me, you would rejoice because I said,‘I am going to the Father,’ for My Father is greater than I. 'And now I have told you before it comes, that when it does come to pass, you may believe.'" John 14:23&25-29

Then It Happened--Dark Days Of Crossing Over

Ssshh! Keep you voice down or they'll hear us. It's true. It's horribly true. What can a person do? Literally the crowd was chanting for it. I was stuck until I could slither out from between the bodies pressed in on me.(Mark 15:11-14)

Before all this happened, we had followed Him. Just the other night we sat outside the disciples' house and heard them having dinner. They even sang a song with Him (Mark 14:26, Mathew 26:30). It was so sweet. Then they went to a garden and that's when I went home. (Mark 14:17-26)

I heard it happened there, at the garden. (Mark 14:43-46) Everyone ran away. They all left and are hiding. Whatever you say, don't say His name. We don't want to draw that kind of attention. And for goodness sake, keep your eyes down! The scribes might recognize us as ones who followed Him around. (John 18:15-17 & John 18:25-27)

How did I miss God on this? At first it seemed He was the One, but then the scribes asked all those questions... We just needed more time; but now this horrible thing! I don't understand. He did all those miracles but He's not able to save Himself. (Mathew 27:39-43). Even Pilate look worried about the whole thing (Mathew 27:19, John 19:8). But their chants were so loud "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!"(Mark 15:11-14). It made the hair on my neck stand up. Why this? Pilate was asking the same thing, "Why?". I kept looking at Pilate to do something, but he didn't.

These turn of events are just too powerful to stop. All we can do is lay low. My stomach is sick with disgust and worry. Guards are everywhere. Even my friends from 'church' were in the chanting crowds. I know because I too was there. How did it all happen so fast?

Yes, they took Him right by here with a cross. A cross! (John 19:17). I didn't even recognize Him. They'd beaten Him so bad and now He's heading up there. I couldn't watch the abuse. Were you able to? The tears are coming and I just know they're going to recognize me.

What will happen to us? I haven't seen anyone else we know. They're all scattered. We're utterly alone and we're next (Mathew 26:56). If only you'd heard the hatred in their voices; it was like they were tearing my own flesh with it. The world has fallen apart and is completely under siege.

I can't watch but I'm too afraid to leave this spot. Paralyzed right here, I'm petrified to move a muscle. I can't hold it together. He's all I'd hoped for. We were so close to the Kingdom. Now it's all over. (Mark 15:22-24). Nothing makes sense. Look! They're raising Him up....

Let's pretend we don't know the end from the beginning. We are just walking there in the now, in the today, and following Him the week of the cross. Because isn't that how we live life? Even though we now have the New Testament & a comforting Holy Spirit, we sometimes still walk in what we know right now. This series is a desire to walk this week of the cross, like I only I have that day, not fully knowing the end. Because even today, my mind truly cannot grasp the fullness of the end, I can only imagine it. For the first part in this series, just click here, "Enter The City", the second part here at "The Great Debates.." .

Excerpts taken from: John 18:15-17 & John 18:25-27; Mark 14:17-26 & Mark 14:43-50; John 19:5-8; Mark 15:11-14; Mark 15:16-20; Mathew 27:39-43

"...And when we see Him,
There is no beauty that we should desire Him.
3 He is despised and rejected by men,
A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.
And we hid, as it were, our faces from Him;
He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.
4 Surely He has borne our griefs
And carried our sorrows;
Yet we esteemed Him stricken,
Smitten by God, and afflicted.
5 But He was wounded for our transgressions,
He was bruised for our iniquities;
The chastisement for our peace was upon Him,
And by His stripes we are healed.
6 All we like sheep have gone astray;
We have turned, every one, to his own way;
And the LORD has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.
7 He was oppressed and He was afflicted,
Yet He opened not His mouth;
He was led as a lamb to the slaughter,
And as a sheep before its shearers is silent,
So He opened not His mouth.
8 He was taken from prison and from judgment,
And who will declare His generation?
For He was cut off from the land of the living;
For the transgressions of My people He was stricken.
9 And they made His grave with the wicked—
But with the rich at His death,
Because He had done no violence,
Nor was any deceit in His mouth....For He shall bear their iniquities.
12 Therefore I will divide Him a portion with the great,
And He shall divide the spoil with the strong,
Because He poured out His soul unto death,
And He was numbered with the transgressors,
And He bore the sin of many,
And made intercession for the transgressors." (Isaiah 53:2-9 & 12)


This was also shared at Girl Creative's "New Friend Friday". To meet other's along the way just click here: