Gleaning From The Walls

Despereaux looked at his father, at his gray-streaked fur and trembling whiskers and his front paws clasped together in front of his ears, and he felt suddenly as if his own heart would break in two. His father looked so small, so sad.

“Forgive me,” said Lester again.

Forgiveness, reader, is, I think, something very much like hope and love, a powerful, wonderful thing.

And a ridiculous thing, too.

Isn’t it ridiculous, after all, to think that a son could forgive his father for beating the drum that sent him to his death? Isn’t it ridiculous to think that a mouse could ever forgive anyone for such perfidy?

But still, here are the words Despereaux Tilling spoke to his father. He said, “I forgive you, Pa.”

And he said those words because he sensed that it was the only way to save his own heart, to stop it from breaking in two. Despereaux, reader, spoke those words to save himself …

Despereaux stood before the Mouse Council, and he realized that he was a different mouse than he had been the last time he faced them. He had been to the dungeon and back up out of it. He knew things that they would never know; what they thought of him, he realized, did not matter, not at all …

After he was gone …

Only one mouse said nothing. That mouse was Despereaux’s father. Lester Tilling had turned his head from the other members of the Mouse Council; he was trying to hide his tears.

He was crying, reader, because he had been forgiven.

~ Kate DiCamillo, The Tale of Despereaux

Forgiveness serves two purposes - to heal the sorrowful heart of the offended and to heal the sorrowful heart of the offender. When we offend our heavenly Father, His heart is sorrowful. When we ask for forgiveness, and He forgives, then the sorrow of the hearts is shadowed by the love of forgiveness.

~ Gerrie

I heard as a child, and learned as an adult, that one cannot miss something one has never known. However, I do not believe that is so with love. When not loved, the heart misses it anyway because it is designed to give love as well as receive love. Although the heart may not be able to put a name to that which is misses, there still exists there a void, fillable only with the knowledge that we are loved.

When we are loved, we feel not just the love, but the many things that accompany it as well - we feel safety and security; we possess a sense of belonging; we are cloaked with a warmth that is beyond explanation; we are excited with expectancy; and we are filled with hope.

Sad little Edward Tulane was too vain and self-absorbed to feel the love he unknowingly possessed. It was only when he was brought to his lowest points that he began to see the difference. He began to love and to feel loved. Then when he was removed from those who loved him, missing the love caused him greater pain and despair than he ever thought he could feel - so much so, that he wanted nothing more to do with love at all.

Because of the words of a wise old doll, Edward opened his heart once again to receive love only to discover that it never really left him - it was there all the time.

“Once, oh marvelous once, there was a rabbit who found his way home.”

~ Gerrie

The ruled by fear, when met with warnings, file them away hoping retrieval will never be necessary.
They disregard their natural sensibilities.

They are destined for oppression.

The ruled by lust for power are by their own greed driven.
Throwing caution to the wind, their natural sensibilities abide not in their hearts.

They are destined for destruction.

The determined to survive make mistakes, yes –
however, they purpose to learn from them to repeat them no more –
thus even more finely tuning their sensibilities.

They are destined for greatness.

These little rabbits aren’t so different from us after all … are they?

“These shadows had no power either to send him away or to hurt him, except with his own consent …
for they had no power to move him except by fear.”

Richard Adams, El-ahrairah - Watership Down

~ Gerrie

by Dean Koontz

To what lengths will one go, when driven to desperation, to relieve that one whom he loves from some evil done them through no fault of their own?

Indeed, what would drive one to do the evil in the first place? Greed borne from moral degradation! And in the wake, the innocent suffer and emerge innocent no more.

Again, Dean Koontz is able to lay before me a tale that keeps me wanting more. This one I read in two days, a record for me in reading a book. This says more of him than me, of course. I would never put that much effort into a book not deserving or able to hold my attention beyond all else.

Quickly paced throughout, The Husband is not always intense, but more often than not sitting on the edge of intensity. It was almost as if I could control it. The faster I read the more intense; if I slowed my pace, I could take a breath.

I longed for the ending to come quickly, but at the same time, knew I would be finished with the book. As it turned out, I found myself turning circles of boredom afterwards, finding nothing to do that would occupy my time as immediately satisfactorily.

~ Gerrie

by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

“Oh, Frankenstein! generous and self-devoted being! What does it avail that I now ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee by destroying all thou lovest.”

“Your repentance,” I [Robert Walton] said, “is now superfluous. If you had listened to the voice of conscience, and heeded the stings of remorse, before you had urged your diabolical vengeance to this extremity, Frankenstein would yet have lived.”

“I pitied Frankenstein [replied the Monster] … but when I discovered that he, the author at once of my existence and of its unspeakable torments dared to hope for happiness … then impotent envy and bitter indignation filled me with an insatiable thirst for vengeance … I knew I was preparing myself a deadly torture; but I was the slave, not the master, of an impulse which I detested, yet could not disobey … Evil, thenceforth, became my good … I had no choice but to adapt my nature to an element which I had willingly chosen.”

“I have devoted my creator, the select specimen of all that is worthy of love and admiration among men, to misery.”

“Polluted by crimes, and torn by the bitterest remorse, where can I find rest but in death?”

“The bitter sting of remorse will not cease to rankle in my wound until death shall close them forever.”

(Creator and Creature, desperately wanting something greater in their lives reject their better natures and descend into spiritual darkness and physical destruction.)

~ Gerrie

by Max Lucado

“We are a nation that believes in having it all. In 1950, American families owned one car and saved for a second. In 2000, nearly one in five families owned three cars or more … Americans shell our more for garbage bags than 90 of the worlds 210 countries spend for everything … America has double the number of shopping malls as it does high schools.” M. Lucado

As many times as I’ve read the “parable of the talents” in the Bible, I’ve never understood it to be referring to anything other than money or something tangible. A talent in ancient times did refer to money, of course, but today it mostly refers to a person having the ability to do something very well. We say, “He or she is talented.” Moreover, were they a humble person, they would hopefully acknowledge their talent is a gift from the Lord.

In Cure for the Common Life: Living in Your Sweet Spot, Max Lucado has given me a new perspective on an old lesson. I’ve come to see the talent (money) of Bible times as the talent (giftedness) of today.

We are not all endowed with the mind of a rocket scientist, the courage of a soldier, the communicative skills of the world’s greatest teacher, or the grace of the most humble of those who serve in our church. However, we are all gifted in one capacity or another.

God does not create useless beings. Therefore, the work here is discovering where your giftedness lies and not only being satisfied with it, but grateful for it – whether it is in humble service or in rocket science, for there is a need for both.

In the Parable of the Talents, one servant receives 5 talents, one receives 2 and the third receives 1. Then the Lord returns for an account of His investments. The results?

“The 2-talent steward who faithfully fills soda cups for the homeless receives the same applause as the 5-talent evangelist who fills stadiums with people.” M. Lucado

These two servants used their uniqueness and took risks, risks that placed them outside of society’s expectations and inside what Max Lucado calls their “sweet spot” – that place where you do what you do best most because that is where your talent or your giftedness lies.

On a personal level, and speaking in general terms – look at the idea of the aforementioned, the “America that wants it all”. Now, we may be the land of the free and the home of the brave nationwide, but applying those same terms on a smaller scale, are we really free, and are we really brave?

Are we truly free when we are such slaves to debt? The lack of bravery enters in when we consider the measures it will take to not only free ourselves of debt, but also determine to live no longer slave to it. The lifestyle changes that will be necessary to accomplish this will be difficult to become accustomed to again - the change in attitude from “I want it all” to “I have enough”.

Are we truly free when we maintain the lofty ideals of others (no matter how they grate against our conscience)? Again, the lack of bravery enters in here when we consider the measures it will take to not only free ourselves of pre-conceived ideals, but use our own minds to discover those things that are soothing to our own conscience, those things that motivate our own selves, finding them from within our own selves.

I’m coming around to a point, so just bear with me, and remember I’m speaking of me particularly here, not everyone.

I, as a woman, have been created to be the nurturer of the home and the raiser of the children. That’s God’s design. Society, however, has bombarded me with the notion that I need to be ambitious, career-oriented, no longer one tied to the home “barefoot and pregnant”, at least that’s the impression with which I grew up and believed for many years. Because of this, I was torn between doing that for which I was created and that which society expected of me.

I was not “free” to live in complete fulfillment and contentment of my God-given talent because I was not “brave” enough to defy the mindset I have allowed to penetrate and dictate my reasoning and actions.

I can honestly say that this book – Cure for the Common Life: Living in Your Sweet Spot has left me free to feel guilty no longer for being content fulfilling my purpose and using the talent the Lord has given me.

My mother once told me that when I was a child and asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, my answer was “a wife and mommy”. I don’t remember that, but I’m glad she did. I’m doubly glad she recalled it back to me.

For years, I tried to convince myself that I should be at least part contributor to the financial well being of our family, while at the same time trying to balance job and home and family. I’ve always disliked being out of the house, feeling divided between doing my 100 percent best in a traditional job and my 100 percent best in building a home and raising my children, mentally floundering most of the time, trading off doing my best at one or the other. Somewhere along the way, one always suffered, at least in my mind it did. It may not have looked like it to observers, but I knew it because I know there is only one 100 percent of me and I’m uncomfortable feeling divided.

My talent, my giftedness, that which I am called to do, is domesticity. It always has been, and now I know it always will be. Sure, I want it all just like everyone else, but not enough to step outside myself and stop doing that which fulfills me the most. In reality, I already have it all – I know that now, I’ve probably known it all along.

This is not the life for all women, but it is certainly the life for me. It is where I thrive; it is where I am most happy. Oddly enough, it is what enables me to serve in other areas in and outside the home.

As for the third servant, the one who received the 1 talent – we don’t know what his talent was because he never shared it. “He made the most tragic mistake of giftedness. He failed to benefit the master with his talent.” M. Lucado.

He went through life trying to live up to the expectations of others, not free and not brave.

~ Gerrie

If you have never been berry picking, you have to try it! I went to Moorhead’s Blueberry Farm this morning with the senior group at church (The XYZ’ers – which stands for Extra Years of Zest) and picked blueberries. It was absolutely the best of fun things to do for the summer. I came home with 8 pounds of berries, along with a blue tongue and blue fingers, and at $1.50 per pound, it was quite a bargain, too. Do you know how expensive a little package is in the grocery store this time of year?

I had never seen a blueberry bush before. Mom was with us and she was concerned there would be a lot of stooping to get to the berries. Quite the contrary, these bushes were very tall. The best berries were at the top of the bushes, and so we had to pull some of the branches down and hold them to get the “pick of the crop.”

We were not there very long, only about an hour and a half. It was very hot, and even though we got started about 9 AM, we were melting by 10. Some stuck it out for a half hour more to fill up their buckets, including me. It was well worth it, though, and everyone was pleased with all the wonderfully sweet-tasting berries.

I must admit, there is something quite satisfying about doing my own picking rather than buying a few ounces in a plastic carton. I’m collecting blueberry recipes already, and cannot wait to start some serious baking!

~ Gerrie

So often we forget
About the love in life.

So many people hurting,
For their daily trials and strife
Can leave them hopeless and despairing,
But this, Friend, you can do.

Tell them often of God’s mercy,
That when their strength has failed them,
His will see them through.

~ Gerrie

Oh, what an absolutely, wonderful birthday I had this year. I am a whopping 48, but the older I get, the better I feel about getting older.

My family surprised me a week early (the 21st) with a surprise party. WOW! The first one I have ever had. The difference between a regular birthday party and a surprise party is, of course, the surprise. A surprise party requires much more forethought and planning. A lot of effort goes into it to see that the surprise stays a surprise, and all the while, everyone is thinking of the birthday person. That was the most special thing to me – to know I was in their thoughts.

Anyway, there was all the usual fanfare of a party, food, drink, favors, decorations, and guests. What can I say? I was overwhelmed.

I have often told my family, when asked what I wanted for my birthday, that all I wanted was a cake and a party. A surprise party, of course, was not to what I was referring. I meant that I just wanted to spend time with my family and the cake was just a topper for the day. Presents are wonderful, but unnecessary to round out the event. It is family - my husband, and my boys - and my friends that matter. Although they were not all able to be present, I felt them all in spirit.

How blessed I am to have such a wonderful family and such good, good friends. They certainly went above and beyond the call. When asked next year what I want for my birthday – I shall have a very hard time trying to think of anything more meaningful than what I received this year. I shall ride the tail of this year’s for a very long time.

~ Gerrie

by Bram Stoker - 1897

I picked up this little book in the Half Price Book Store a few weeks ago. The title was not really the only reason. It was mostly because it was a nice looking little book, cloth bound, gold gilded edges, mint condition, a little ribbon page marker attached, for only $3.98. Ok – so I am a bargain shopper.

Books of this nature do not particularly interest me, especially ones involving the supernatural and such evil sources, on the contrary, I shy away from them – bad dreams, you know; but I decided, on principal, that I would read the book since I had paid for it.

With that said, and the book now read, let me say that I would have paid ten times the asking price had I known for what I was in store – beautiful writing, interesting diary format, romantic characters I came not only to know, but also to be fond. It has been a long time since I found a book that captivated me beyond my desire to do most of my favorite things. I slept less, ate less, worked less, and played less. I kept it by my bed with my little book light handy should I awaken in the night, sleepless and in need of activity. I literally fell in love with the language.

Dracula was written in 1897, and although Bram Stoker was an extremely successful author, this work is the one for which he is most remembered. I tried to read from the beginning with the idea that I lived in that era. I wanted the “new discovery” of the vampire and the “un-dead” to strike me with the same disbelief and horror with which the characters were faced as their discoveries unfolded before them. I tried to forget all the preconceived ideas of my day so as not to taint the newness of the notion. It was difficult to say the least.

Actually, my first introduction to such a creature was in the 60’s when I was a child and I saw the movie Dracula starring Christopher Lee. What was my mother thinking in allowing me to see it! I remember the theater room quite vividly. It was long with an isle down the middle and seating on either side that, to so small a child, seemed to go downhill forever. In the theater you did not climb up to the seats as in most of today, you walked down to them. Not long after his first appearance, the frightening Christopher Lee sent me running back up the isle and out two large swinging doors at the back of the theater. Each had a small peep window in it. Behind those doors and looking through the peep windows is where I finished out the viewing. It seems silly now, but if I try hard enough I can still feel the fear.

Stoker’s character, Mina Harker, I would have to say, was my favorite, although every one of the others run side by side a close second. As I quote her here, I bear in mind that as evil as The Count was, and as surely as she believed then that she was under his evil spell, her compassion for his soul forged on parting the hate that was the drive behind her husband and companions.

“… my true, true friends, I want you to bear something in mind through all this dreadful time. I know that you must fight – that you must destroy … but it is not a work of hate. That poor soul who has wrought all this misery is the saddest case of all. Just think what will be his joy when he too is destroyed in his worser part that his better part my have spiritual immortality. You must be pitiful to him too, though it may not hold your hands from his destruction.”

And another from Dr. Van Helsing –

“He that can smile at death, as we know him; who can flourish in the midst of diseases that kill off whole peoples. Oh! If such an one was to come from God, and not the Devil, what a force for good might he not be in this old world of ours!”

~ Gerrie