Inner Rose

A book published by a Quaker publishing house tells in simple prose how God laid his heart down for us. When I was a teen, a man told me my dog was smarter than I because he (Charlie) had valiantly and repeatedly pulled on my pantleg to try to make me leave when harm was planned for me. Laying heart down. How many ways can we realize that? - Is it when a man chooses forthrightly to listen to a woman though anger has turned her tongue irrational? Those of us who love because He (Jesus) first loved us may have one idea. - What are ways that you have learned to lay your heart down? - Has that made a difference in any of your relationships or in how you choose to live your life? I have fought a double-edged sword because I first chose in ways that actually were not God's will and in ways that pulled me down. I have learned (and am learning) to make other choices. What choices have you made? And, was the impact good or bad for you? And why?

Dottie gave me a card after my mother's death. On it was a chair in a field of flowers draped with a shawl and hat and the text, "She...was quite a lady!" Two days before her death, I had given my mother a CD "The Psalms of David" by the Choir of King's College, Cambridge, EMI Classics (organ and choral music). We played it as we waited for the funeral home to remove her body. A fitting tribute. With all her being, she loved God. She loves God. She lived it. She walked it. And, objectively speaking, she still does. "Such is the generation of those who seek him, who seek the face of the God of Jacob." Psalm 24:15 RSV

Dottie is dying. She is going fast. This blog is to speak of what she taught me. Laugh. Love. Work hard. Be honest. Respect your own integrity. Pray. Value the individual. Listen. Listen. Listen. Don't judge. Love. What a jewel and a priceless person she is! I wish you could all know her. She has taught me so much! The world has definitely become a better place because of her. She said she wanted a memorial that says "She lived until she died!" Ahh, the world has definitely become a far far better place because of her.

Doc (my step-father) taught me how to work. Eventually, I knuckled down and settled in for the tasks at hand. One day, admiring my diligence, someone asked if it was hard (the task at hand). I responded, "All it takes is a little bit of tiresome."

Nursery school. Graduation. Mrs. Potter gives my mother a picture of a Hindu god with many arms with that inscription. "For Heaven's Sake Suzie! Don't take all the sand shovels!" We laugh. Years later, my father says, "Susan, if you have to grab for it, it isn't yours!" again and again and again. We laugh. Years again. I am challenged by a man at work. His thirst for power and the harm he causes me causes me to re-evaluate my priorities and goals. As I am faced with the hard choice and the delicate balance of choosing to relate to people with courtesy, dignity and respect and yet (how on earth!) to set appropriate boundaries that will not devalue but also (despite-and-in-the-face-of-my-anger) protect my own worth and value, it comes to me. It is tremendously harder to walk in integrity than to grab for what isn't yours.

It began as a simple game...the easter-egg-hunt. My brother was always better than me--and faster. Year after year after year he showed me up. Finally, I decided, my only hope of getting more chocolate easter eggs than my brother was to hunt ahead of time so that, when the time came to (really) hunt them out, I would at least have a fighting chance of finding them. Someone was coming! In the early morning light, it was difficult to see. I had lifted the chimney off of the kerosene lamp to confirm I was seeing one inside the light. In my haste to return the chimney to the lamp, my hand shook. I dropped it. It was broken. In the morning light, I looked into my mothers face and heard her rath. To this day, that lamp is a reminder to me what I realized then (listening to her anger) that people are more important than things.

Years ago -- so many years that I hate to admit it, I was sitting in on my parents conversations with a little league coach. They were talking about world and social problems. Suddenly, the solution rose to my mind in a panorama so clear it was as if I were an urban and social planner. I piped up "if everybody does something"... Rather than discount fully an innocent child's description of what it would take for everyone to make a difference, someone took the time to ask me what I meant." I saw a vision of each person making a choice to contribute and help out someone else. The ditch digger, the banker, the farmer--each pitching in. I've seen the choice a community can make to contribute to the betterment of common man. I was blessed to see MANY pitch in when a friend died. One stayed with the wife and supported the children. Others purchased goods and brought them by. Someone looked in and gave foot massages and did her hair. Many creative and carin

It took a year of knawing--dogs poised and ready, before Mr. Chip broke through but finally, his creative genious had gone too far. Regretfully, I baited a trap and set it at the door of "Mr. Chip". "Put it at the entry," I was told. Observing the large hole Mr. Chip had created between the porch and the doorframe and remembering his diligence in also chewing out the expandable foam I had used, the trap was set. Not only had said industrial genius distained my efforts to dissuade him when I sprayed castor oil (chippy, chippy, knaw, knaw), he overlooked the threshold enhancer of habanero and garlic as a mere inconvenience. Now, he has taken the first Woodstream "V" trap, relocating it to the bowels of his domain under the porch AND he has taken the second Woodstream "V" trap which I placed at his porchly outlook and pushed it, closed and empty, several feet away from said overlook and to a corner on the ground away from the entrance. What&#