Yes, God loves Vintage He’s into restoration Strips away the old
Finds the rust pockets Things we never knew we had Old is gone; new’s here!
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here.”
Does that mean we need to discard the old and buy the new instead?
Not necessarily! God is into restoration, remember? Some old things are priceless!
There are some aged ones who are wise beyond imagination. They deserve to be heard! (Well, this grandma isn’t really aged… is she?)
Wizened aged ones deserve to be preserved and appreciated . However, I learned that my grandmother’s old Victrola was worth much more in its original state – before I had it restored!! Preservation and restoration are not always one in the same.
But, I believe every soul is in need of constant restoration. Just as we need to remove the rust from the old cars to restore and preserve them, we need to remove those rusty spots from our hearts. You know what they are:
God can help us replace the rusty spots with:
I’m like Vintage wine. I think I improve with age. God grants me wisdom.
“But if any of you lacketh wisdom, let him ask God, who giveth to all liberally and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.”
Gratefully, the old scripture, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and ancient copies of the Torah or the Tanakh were not discarded. And as scholars are busy writing new, modern translations of the Bible, we still have the old language. It sings to me and rings true, and teaches me to study and keep learning. When I come to an archaic word that escapes me, I use http://www.dictionary.com and I increase my vocabulary. I may be vintage, but I am a life-long learner… constantly renewing my mind and seeking to learn.
Upbraideth: root word: upbraid to find fault with or reproach severely; censure
Like this wise, old owl, let’s keep our eyes open to new opportunities. Let’s keep our minds open to new learning. Let’s keep our spirits open to renewal. Let’s keep our hearts open to restoration.
I may be vintage, but I’m not old in my eyes. My mind and spirit and heart are ready for daily restoration. How about yours?
Not everyone who reads my blog has a blog of their own. Not everyone who writes a blog has anything published anywhere else.
Must you write a blog or have something published in order to consider yourself a writer?
Does writing in a journal qualify you to call yourself “Writer”?
When you create a grocery list or a list of your “To-Do’s” for today, you are writing. Does that make you a “Writer”?
Definition of Writer
a person engaged in writing books, articles, stories, etc., especially as an occupation or profession; an author or journalist.
a clerk, scribe, or the like.
a person who commits his or her thoughts, ideas, etc., to writing
(in a piece of writing) the author (used as a circumlocution for “I,” “me,” “my,” etc.): The writer wishes to state….
a person who writes or is able to write: a writer in script.
The Key to Being a Writer
The key to being a writer lies for me in the definitions number 3 and 5 above. It’s so obvious!
To be a writer, you must write! You must commit your thoughts and ideas to writing! Not just the ability to write (like writing your signature on a check or signing your name on a card), but the ability to put your thoughts and ideas down on paper or computer or someplace where others can read them.
Are you a writer who writes for others?
Play at Writing
Write like a child at play – words are the beads; string them together one bead at a time.
Writing should be fun! Cristian Mihai on The Art of Blogging says, “Just punch the damn keys.” In his post today, he reminds us also that we are never finished in our quest to be anything… writers, artists, body builders, you name it!
Cristian Mihai wrote in the blog I imbedded above (for your ease in going to read it in its entirety), “… we are all works of art. And we are never, ever, ever complete.”
He quoted 70 year-old Seneca who wrote,
“I am still learning…”
Cristian went on to remind us,
“One thing of extreme importance in life is never, ever to be complete.
To always strive for more.
To be able to reinvent yourself on a constant basis.”
He said, “We are not nouns, but verbs. Action is what defines us. And we can change what we do as we learn and develop new skills.”
I appreciate the ideas I glean on a daily basis from Cristian Mihai. He helps me put into action some of my better impulses, and to do it with the Spirit guiding me.
Let the Spirit Guide Your Writing
Let intentionality yield to spontaneity. Let the spirit guide you.
Spiritual direction is as important to the life of a writer as good editing is to the life of the mind. Both deliver us from the blindness of a solitary thinker.
Being a solitary writer squeezes our vision and makes us myopic. Being short-sighted cuts us off from the wonderful world of criticism. Your spirit can guide your creativity, but seeking one’s own center does not mean we should discount others’ opinions.
Writers Are Not Indifferent
In his book, Saints and Writers – On Doing One’s Work in Hiding, Belden C. Lane wrote the following about prolific writer, James Joyce:
“James Joyces’ wife, Nora, loved him for his ordinariness. She paid little attention to his writing. With critics, Joyce had to second-guess himself. With Nora, he never had to prove anything. It was worthless even to try. Loving indifference can prove a safe place – a hidden center – from which one’s creativity grows without being turned back onto itself.”
I am not indifferent to the responses of others to my writing. Unlike James Joyce, who evidently came across as “ordinary” to his wife, my husband treats me like I am anything but ordinary – a very special, talented writer whose ideas are worth reading. He reads each of my blogs before I post them. I am not indifferent to his editorial ideas, and I appreciate his input.
Let Your Creativity Grow
Just as Cristian Mihai reminded us in his blog today, never ever be complete! Never consider your skill set as mastered. Always keep learning and growing and seeking ways to improve.
You ARE a writer! You DO commit your thoughts and ideas to writing.
A few of your ideas expressed in the comments below will not be met with indifference by this writer. I LOVE hearing from you. You help me to keep growing!
I remember glimpses of my childhood – an Ozzie & Harriet family with Dad going off to work and Mom staying home…
I remember our small, sparkly white house on the end of Fig Lane in Newman, at the center of California’s hot San Joaquin Valley…
I remember sitting around the radio in the living room listening as a family to “The Cisco Kid” and “One Man’s Family” and “Inner Sanctum” …
I remember Dad’s three-tiered tulip bed and the day I picked a bouquet of them and got into trouble…
I remember being scolded, and as I stood there with a fist-full of the precious blooms saying to Dad, “I no pick the flaws… maybe Sally pick the flaws!”
I remember walking down Fig Lane with my sister, Sally, headed to P Street School wearing my Mary Jane’s…
I remember how proud I was of those new shoes…
I remember trips every September to San Francisco to get new school clothes: new shoes, a new dress, underwear, a sweater, a coat… the essentials…
I remember eating crab legs at Fisherman’s Wharf while I gazed at the boats coming in and going out of the harbor…
I remember my first plane trip, flying to Seattle to be with my mom’s family there when her mom died…
I remember Dewey Wright, my first true love, and the Valentine card he gave me in kindergarten, and how he chased me around the playground until I caught him …
I remember moving from that little white house at the end of Fig Lane to a house out in the country right next door to my Dad’s mom…
I remember the day my cousin, Billy, came to live with us – and how upset he was – and how upset I was when he tore our doll house apart and scattered our toys…
I remember dashing past a gobbling turkey who chased me to my grandma’s back door after school…
I remember my father’s tears when his mother died…
I remember moving out to that God-forsaken place twenty miles from nowhere to begin life anew, with Dad going into business with Uncle Igino and Uncle Melio …
I remember the smell of the Pacific Tallow Works that was about 150 yards from our house, and how impossible it was to close up the house tight enough …
I remember Tiofila and Engracia and Dalia, my sweet little Spanish-speaking playmates, whose mom made fantastic tortillas, and the day they were transported back to Mexico by some cruel authorities…
I remember crying for days when I heard Dalia had died on that trip back to Mexico …
I remember Manuel Ynzunza, his basketball skill, and our first kiss out behind the cafeteria … oh, the thrill of it…
I remember “Dimples,” my Cocker Spaniel who had four puppies – and the fascination of observing the births …
I remember riding a horse, unable to control it, and being pushed into a barbed wire fence, putting a gash in my right leg …
I remember how impossible it was for Mom to leave the office unattended to take me to the doctor (she was Dad’s secretary-bookkeeper), so she taped my gash closed and how it healed leaving a big scar …
I remember the day my Aunt Jean, Billy’s mom, came to take him back … how I was filled with mixed emotions, sorrow and relief …
I remember my mom’s older sister, Aunt Evelyn, coming from Washington to visit and bringing clothes my cousins had outgrown, and Mom spending nights altering them to fit Sally & me …
I remember walking at least a mile (seemed like five) to catch the school bus and riding for at least an hour (seemed like five) while we picked up other kids to go to Crows Landing Elementary School…
I remember Mrs Yetter, my third grade teacher, who was almost bald…
I remember my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Ethel Horwedle, and how she wrote her cursive E, and how she let me sing to the tunes of the square dance records, and let me teach the class new square dance moves…
I remember Mrs. Marlow, the principal’s wife who was my 7th and 8th grade teacher… how she let me go during spelling class to help the kindergarten teacher (because, “You don’t need the spelling lesson,” she’d say after giving me a pre-test on which I always got 100%) …
I remember wearing an “I Like Ike” button and learning in 8th grade about each of his cabinet members as they were one-by-one appointed…
I remember Howard Thorkelson, our class genius, who got polio when we were in 8th grade and was gone a long time… returning in a neck and back brace for our graduation…
I remember learning to play the clarinet and doing so well that the band leader invited me to play with the high school band…
I remember being too small to fit into a high school band uniform, and having suspenders that pulled the pants up under my armpits…
I remember playing an accordion duet with Evelyn at our 8th grade graduation, but don’t remember Evelyn’s last name …
I don’t remember a lot of things, but I remember feeling cared for, and feeling like I could become whatever I set my mind to, and not realizing we were poor…
We actually weren’t you know. We had each other. We had love. We had everything.
We ALL want to make a positive difference in this world – right?
One way to make a difference is simply to be kind and helpful! But there is no “simply” about that.
It takes a concerted effort sometimes to respond with kindness. Our natural, almost automatic, first response when someone is being mean or unkind to us is to snap back… at least that’s the way it used to be with me.
It has taken me 80 years of living to learn to guard my tongue! And sometimes, even now it gets the best of me. But I usually am quick to realize it when that happens, and I am never reluctant to ask for forgiveness.
The problem is sometimes I am too self-centered to even realize I have hurt someone with my words!! That never happen to you, does it?
I guess I’m not perfect yet.
Another way to make a difference is simply to plant love. But there is no “simply” about that either.
Sometimes the seeds of adversity and division get the best of me.
I watch something on TV or I read something in a magazine or newspaper that is hateful or just plain false and deceptive. And I let that simmer in my soul. I want to lash out at the TV person or rip up the newspaper.
But surely that never happens to you!
Just Love One Another
It’s easy to say, but ever so hard to do! But if we want to make a positive difference in this world, it has to be all about LOVE first and foremost!
Be Forgivingof Yourself
Even when we try hard, we may not always be the loving person God intended us to be.
But we can make a difference if we learn to forgive ourselves for those mistakes of character. Others see and are encouraged by our ability to overcome!
Be Forgiving of Others
Another way to make a difference in this world is simply to be forgiving of others. But there is no “simply about that either.
Sometimes I want to use a “mad” icon. “Sad” just doesn’t do it. It’s not enough.
I want to show the world that what was said or done just makes me angry.
But anger never solved any of this world’s problems. It only exacerbates them, ya know?
Forgive the ones who anger you, Pray for your understanding of their position. Try to figure out where they’re coming from. Forgive their ignorance (hah!)!
Disagree without being disagreeable!
Be a PeaceMaker
And yet another way to make a positive difference in this world is to be a PEACEMAKER!
Pray daily for the wisdom,
obedience to God,
and the humility
that it takes to be a peacemaker, and to make a positive difference in this world.
It’s not a task for the Lone Ranger, the Lone Stranger, or the Lone YOU! It takes the LOVE of the HOLY SPIRIT working in you.
Know that God is your heart… so Pay attention to His Leading!
He will always lead you to Love, Peace, and Making a Positive Difference!
Thanks for visiting JanBeek.
I’m headed off to TOPS. (Those are my friends who help me keep the weight off. They make a difference in my life!)
It’s God’s number for “completeness.” On the 7th day he rested.
Seven is our house number.
Seven is the number of grandchildren I have.
Seven is my birthday month.
Our phone number ends in a 77.
So does our PO Box number.
Our current house is the 7th dwelling
my husband and I have shared in our 57 years of marriage!
But, my friends, 7 is not my number for completeness. It’s the number that causes me to look in amazement at all this synchronicity – and realize, “This is good!”
But, I am nowhere near complete – and neither is this JanBeek blog! This is good – and it’s fun, but it’s not great yet!
I’m a work in progress, ending my 7th decade on earth … and ready to enter new challenges, new learning, new sharing. Growing in knowledge and grace. Striving to blog with intention and purpose – to make a positive difference for my faithfilled blogging friends.
I look forward to making new friends and keeping in touch with those who’ve hung in there with me. Thank you for reading and commenting on my blog. Please try to check in with me daily and see what’s new – and leave me some encouragement, too!
I will continue to share what I am passionate about as I enter this 8th year of blogging.
As I approach my 8th decade on this earth, I share the love, joy and peace that are mine through faith. I express my gratitude. I seek help with expressions of patience, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I share ways life is a blessing and ways I have learned to manage the challenges life tosses at us. I write about things I care about (like today’s fire at Notre Dame). Sometimes I write just to entertain. Every now and then I just wanna make you laugh (like Jesus is Walkin’ on Water Again).
I hope my sharing helps and inspires and encourages my followers.
I’m hangin’ in there, and I hope you do, too!
Send seven of your friends this way., will you?
Let’s grow together!