Archives for posts with tag: trust

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Photo courtesy of K. Farwell

I’ve had quite an interesting and challenging couple of days. First, I found out my ninety-two year old father had fallen and spent the night on the floor two nights in a row—–at least he was found both mornings lying in the floor instead of his bed. His confusion did not allow people to determine what had actually happened, and he did not have his lifeline necklace on so the automatic “subject has fallen” message did not get sent to the monitoring service.

Later that evening,  I had my house alarm set off indicating a burglary attempt,  and I had to rush out of a meeting I was chairing to meet the police and my “back up person” at my house. No one had been able to contact me directly because I had my phone turned off so it would not interrupt the meeting. I was extremely grateful that our church had installed a phone in our kitchen and that my “back up” friend kept calling that number until I got annoyed enough to stop leading the meeting, walk into the kitchen, and answer the phone so my friend could tell me my house alarm was going off.

Fortunately,  we were able to determine it had been a false alarm. Of course, all the noise and commotion had upset my dogs, and my most timid rescue dog saw an opportunity to escape out the garage door and did so. I called him; he ignored me. I headed out the back door to intercept him and, as I went around the house,  I spotted him barking at and “herding” a young boy on a bicycle. The young man was delightful—he told me “You’ve got a good dog—–all he did was walk across the street to a bush, pee on it, and then he came back to your front door waiting for you to open it.”  I should have known Boo would not leave me or the treats he craves so much, and I should have figured out he’d go to the door he is used to coming in when we go for leash-assisted walks.

That should have been enough excitement for one evening, but my aging body delivered the “crowning touch” to my evening’s adventure. Once I straightened things out with my monitoring company and got my dogs calmed down,  I realized it was way past the time that I should have had my supper. Missing a meal by hours is not a problem for most folks, but for a diabetic it can create problems.  So, as I was fixing my dinner, I noticed an empty plastic zip-lock bag had landed on the floor. I bent to pick it up, and on the way “up” got a muscle spasm in my lower back where I never even knew there were muscles.

Today I am navigating around the house using my cane to help alleviate the pressure on my lower back. All is well, and as problems go, I really have been lucky. However, I have noticed even minor problems like the ones I experienced seem to leave me feeling more tired and worn out than they used to and my pride and ego associated with being  “physically fit” keep being assaulted.

Yesterday I made a trip to the drug store to get some low dose aspirin, and while I was checking out at the register I propped my cane beside me on the counter. The cane fell to the floor and a kind gentleman waiting in line behind me picked it up for me. I thanked him and told him I had not figured out how to keep the cane from falling at times like this.  In my mind I thought my statement about the cane implied: “I don’t need this very often, and I am still not used to using it so I haven’t yet figured out how to keep it from falling.”  The gentleman suggested maybe putting some Velcro on my cane so I could fasten it to my person. This was a well-meant suggestion, and it was probably one that would work. But my still child-like ego heard, “You’re an old lady who needs to constantly have her cane with her.” Logically, I knew this was not what the man had said, but it is what registered.  Actually, I am having a hard time accepting that even simple movements such as stooping to get something off the floor (an almost continuously necessary action in my household) or lifting a small dog down from the bed to the floor can cause acute discomfort that sticks around for a day or two.

I have written in these blogs before about aging being devalued in our society. This week I’ve had to acknowledge that the problematic perception of aging is not just within  my culture at large—–I have internalized it.  I don’t know if it is thinking about my father lying helpless on the floor or anticipating that it will be myself on the floor at some point in time, but I am experiencing a bit of  free-floating anxiety that is telling me I have not transitioned to being retired and on Medicare quite as well as I thought I had.

As I recently told an old friend, “One breath at a time, one moment at a time….all will unfold in God’s time. God is guiding you through this wilderness, and he has also provided co-sojourners who can offer support along the way. Consent. ” Good advice—–I think I’d better follow it. God bless and keep you.

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In this  my last  semester of teaching Psychiatric Nursing since 1983, I periodically find myself occupying a vacant office the university lets me use on the one day I am there teaching part time every week. This past Monday I happened to look up and notice this sign posted on a wall in this office.  It seemed an odd time and place for a profound truth to jump out at me, but it did.  Pondering these words instantaneously placed me on a “gratitude trajectory” that put my life in perspective. It has been filled with all kinds of moments ranging from almost unbearable to magical. Unfortunately, my mind periodically  has a tendency to focus on the negative moments more than the positive moments. The randomly placed push-pins left in the wall reminded me it is my responsibility to notice and collect the moments.

Today, because Spring has finally gotten here, our outdoor moments are much more pleasant than they were a few weeks ago and all this past winter when we experienced much more snow and ice than this region is used to tolerating.  But even those snow and ice-bound days hosted intermittent magical moments. I have found the key, for me,  is pausing from being enmeshed in a “busy body….busy mind” stance for long enough to step out of that box, take a deep breath, and actually give myself time and space to seek out the pleasant moments. The moments are always there; they are only absent in my perception because I fail to notice them.

Just yesterday, as a simple illustration, I found a dead bird on my sidewalk. I started to recoil in distaste, but something reminded me to treat a fellow creature created by God with respect. So I fetched a plastic bag and picked up the dead bird so that I could dispose of it properly. Doing so made me notice it had, by all appearances, experienced a very peaceful death. It looked as if it had just tucked its head in to go to sleep and had, instead, died.  Since I have spent the past couple of weeks contemplating  both death and the dying process, this seemed to be a message from God not to fear death but to embrace it as a natural part of living. I intuitively knew that God had been with this bird at the time of its death, and this reinforced my belief that God is with us through eternity—–including those moments we may not be aware of such as our conception, our growth from an embryo to an infant, our birth, and, yes, what happens to us when we die.

Perhaps it seems a bit odd that a dead bird would have such importance for me, but it did. Several months ago I had a very vivid dream in which a bird identical in appearance to this one flew directly at my “third eye.” In my dream, I was aware we were meant to merge as one being.  However,  I was “startled awake” before the bird made physical or psychic contact with me.  I think God sent me that dream to me so I would notice this bird and its message that death is a part of life that marks our passage into another form of being…..and during that passage, he is in us, with us, and all around us—— as he always is. God is always giving me  the gift of “moments, ” and he is starting to build my acceptance of death as one of those moments. May God bless and keep you.

 

Rolling Stone

Image courtesy of Vlado/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

 

My mind seems to be cluttered this morning with bits and pieces of thought and memory floating around trying to tell me something. I have been “feeling down” because I spent three days watching the aging process slowly robbing  my father of his mind. It hurts to see him struggle to form a single word, a meaningful sentence, or to untangle a splintered memory. Yesterday’s bible readings in church spoke of dry bones and Lazarus being given God’s gift of life. Of course, being in my somewhat befuddled state of mind, I focused my attention on the Lazarus story’s detail about how Lazarus had lain dead for four days and, in his decay process, he had begun to stink. Jesus still had them roll away the stone, commanded him to live, and had them “unbind” him so he could be free of the cloths that bound him.

First, of course, my mind went into a flight of free association and attached the “stink of decay” concept to  the phenomenon of “stinking thinking” we talk about in twelve step recovery.  Stinking thinking is a thinking process that sneaks back up on us in recovery and replaces our new Higher Power directed way of thinking with our old self-will powered thinking . And, yes, if we stay bound up in that morass of self-will our spirits will begin to decay and we will have a spiritual “stench” about ourselves. If we let go of that self-will and allow our Higher Power to once again guide our thinking, we will be freed from the bonds of self-will that were slowing killing us even though we had momentarily escaped our past addictions.

Yesterday a dear friend asked if I was okay. I explained I was caught up in the pain of watching my father lose his mind, and my friend quietly but emphatically informed me, “it could be much worse.” I needed to hear that. I know aging and gradual decay are part of life. Am I so terminally unique that I really think my father and eventually myself should be spared that part of living? God has held my hand through absolutely everything, and he will hold it still as long as I let him. Instead of obsessing about my father’s comment when we parted that “this may be our last hug” I should be grateful that we were given that wonderful hug to hold in our hearts. I should trust God and know that when it is time in his own way he will breathe the breath of life into those he has created so that we  may live once more outside the stench of aging and dying.

And, lastly, I know that one day at a time I can allow God to breathe the breath of life into my being, my experience, and my recovery. Whatever comes my way can be faced in partnership with him. I should stop worrying, grieving, and being afraid. I need to trust God to be there to roll away whatever stone blocks my progress and to un-wrap whatever binds me and keeps me from living a life in partnership with him. May God bless and keep us.

Spring Daffodil

Image courtesy of Jonathan Fitch,/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I read this morning of a woman who tells others “to have enough”—-not to “have a good day” or “God bless you”—-what she gives others is just the wish for them to have enough. Now, being the addictive personality I am, I found that wish a bit hard to comprehend. But I’ve thought a lot about it today, and I realize it is a philosophy I need to adopt. If I realize I have enough, I will stop seeking more. And more. I will change my focus from acquisition of things “outside” myself and focus instead on nurturing that which is already “inside me”—-my inner being which is the soul God gave me.

If I realize I have enough and that I am filled with God’s spirit and love, I won’t always be wanting to “fill” myself with drugs, alcohol, or food. I won’t need to find a “fix” because God created me already “fixed.” All I have to do is realize it, consent, and carry on content with what I have and willing to share it with others so I can  “keep it,” as they say around twelve step tables.

So, for me, I need to answer the question “when is enough, enough?” Each person, unfortunately, or fortunately, needs to find his or her own answer to that question. I didn’t used to perceive enough until I was miserable and doing a nose-dive towards “hitting bottom.” Gratefully, God has taught me in recovery to start realizing I’ve had enough before I get so dangerously close to hitting bottom.

Of course, there are times of suffering and pain that cannot be avoided in this adventure we call life, but I must remind myself I need to experience those times so I won’t take the gifts of life and love God has given me for granted.  I need to be able to appreciate the positive in my life and to realize each moment is for only a moment, this moment. There are no guarantees that anything will be here beyond the present moment. In terms of recovery, I am talking about cultivating an attitude of gratitude. In terms of Ram Dass, I am talking about “Being here Now.”

I seem to be avoiding answering my own question. It is simple, really. Enough is enough as soon as I realize and accept my reality for what it is.  When I consent to letting God be in charge and stop trying to control and fix everything, then I can start to appreciate being in the midst of “enough.” It is a relief really, not trying to always compete, be better, be perfect, be the best, be right. It is liberating to realize I am enough just the way God created me. I don’t have to earn God’s love or God’s gifts. So, my answer is:  today I have enough because God is in me and I am in him. May God bless and keep you.

Sanctuary Window at Centering Prayer 3_3_14

Photograph courtesy of Bob Towner

Yesterday a good friend rescued me from my “stuck in the house” doldrums. I was able to put attachable cleats on my shoes, walk across the snow and ice to his car, and then to walk out of his car and into the church for our centering prayer session. I felt like God came down, fitted me with wings, and let me fly out into the light again.

I tend to take my friends for granted, and it is not until times like this that I realize how much they mean to me. That same friend was able to use my cell phone to take a beautiful photo of God’s light streaming through one of our church’s stained glass windows right before our prayer session started, and the result was a photo I will treasure always. It will remind me not only of God’s love but the love that my friends have shared with me.

God has been working on me to more strongly anchor the concept of “willingness” into my heart.  He did this yesterday  by giving me lessons about my own willingness as well as how to introduce others to the concept of willingness. Yesterday my lessons led me to accept favors, to ask for help when I needed it, and to grasp an arm held out and offered for support in case I should start slipping on the ice. Yesterday also offered me opportunities to begin sharing my concept of willingness with another friend who is considering trying to use AA’s twelve steps for the first time to enter into recovery from carbohydrate addiction.

In looking back at yesterday, I have to wonder, once again, why is it so difficult for me to let others help me and so easy for me to focus instead on helping others? I am forced to admit it must involve my “false self”—my ego-centered pride. And below that layer of the onion is  my more deeply centered issues of trust. Yesterday I trusted cleats, a friend, and God not to let me fall on the ice. This particular friend and God have been with me through many trials and tribulations; they have more than proven their trustworthiness. Why do I still have trust issues? I am like St. Peter who walks on water until he begins to be afraid. If I am not careful, I will allow my fears and insecurities to build a fortress that not only protects me but also imprisons me from the love and kindness of others. My fear, if fed, can even shut God out.

Happily, I learned yesterday that trusting God and friends can make all the difference in the world—and in my eternal reality. I got to be with other people of faith yesterday, and discussing our beliefs reaffirmed my faith and what it means to me. Had I stayed at home, my dogs would have continued to offer me unconditional love as they always do, but they cannot talk to me about matters of faith. It is even hard for them to let me be without interruption long enough to practice centering prayer. So, I am dedicating this blog to thanking my friend Bob, my other friends at Centering Prayer, my friend who let me talk about willingness, and, of course, God for freeing me from my self-imposed prison. May God bless and keep you.

Opening Door

Image courtesy of Idea go/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I have been sad the past couple of days because we had to close a twelve step women’s group due to lowering attendance and lack of women with long term recovery to lead the meetings.  Part of my mourning is fed by  my feeling guilty because I didn’t step up and try to rescue the group. Not that it is all about me, but I helped keep it afloat for years and had to stop due to health reasons. Now I want to jump in and try to “save” it, only I know I can’t over extend myself or I may be back in the hospital again. There are other groups, and recovery can be found in all of them—— it is just that this particular group was formed by women helping women and it lasted for longer than twenty years.  It was my lifeline when I first moved to this area.

As I get older, it seems to me that life is trying to teach me that a big part of life is letting go of things. I don’t think it ever gets easy, but perhaps I am supposed to learn that all things “pass away” except my soul, the souls of others, and God’s loving spirit. But I don’t know what my life would be without “attachments”—-and I don’t mean the kind  attached to a document. I mean the kind that are people, places, and things that are important in our lives. Right now I have a small white dog nestled close to each side of me as I type. I have a very strong and loving attachment with all four of my dogs, but I know we will not always be able to be together. I have buried both sets of grandparents, one parent, a step-son, and numerous friends, relatives, and pets. I know death is part of the cycle of life. Obviously, there is just part of me that does not want to accept that.

Oddly, I do not fear my own death. I have been surrounded by God’s love numerous time when I was close to dying. I always felt a calm, welcoming love at those times that left no room for anxiety.  At those times when all other reality is swept away, it is easy to realize what matters is our soul and being embraced by God’s love. But now, today, my dogs bring comfort. I depend on my friends and family. Their love and support keep me going—-just like the unconditional love of my dogs keeps me going. I am not saying that kind of dependence is wrong or bad. I am just saying I need to realize any or all of it can be gone in a  moment.

I’m beginning to think what is going on here is my life-long struggle of wanting to control and fighting the realization that I have no control. I have to accept that God is in control.  When I do, at those times of surrender, I find  a great deal of comfort to in realizing God has had control all along and will  have control for all eternity. I have learned that if I stop fighting God’s control I find  things turn out much better than they would have if I were still trying to control them. It is just a matter of exercising my “faith muscle.”  I have to believe my dogs, my family, my friends, and my world will be just fine without me and I will be just fine without them when time or circumstance parts us as long as we are all connected by God’s love—–a love which cannot be bound by time or place.   God bless and keep you.

Plums and Prunes

Image courtesy of Praisaeng/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Overheard around the tables this morning was an often repeated phrase, “Just take the next right step.” It is often used in connection with the phrase, “Let Go and Let God.” I had just come from a Centering Prayer Group where I had disclosed  that during our 20 minutes of silence my thoughts had kept vacillating between meditative silence and worry about my computer not working—-that it was just another thing I couldn’t control, just like my worries about my  aging father’s health. The group discussion then turned to how centering prayer lets us “exercise our ‘letting go muscle.'” I must admit that sometimes out of twenty minutes of “quiet time” devoted to centering prayer I spend about 18 minutes of that letting go of one random thought after another.  However, the good news is the exercise is starting to make it easier to let go of things in my life outside of centering prayer.

So after my two group sessions this morning, every time I caught myself worrying about my computer wireless connection not working I would tell myself to “let go of it”—-that the wireless disconnection had mysteriously occurred, and that God could just as mysteriously correct the situation.  I was gone for a little over three hours, and when I got home my computer wireless connection was functioning once again.

How many years, how many times, do I have to wear myself out trying to solve problems that are better left in God’s hands? Will I ever learn just to turn things over without causing myself undue stress by trying to solve my (or someone else’s) problem(s) all by myself until I “give up” and then turn things over?  When will I realize “taking the next best step” involves trusting God and carrying on with my life as God would have me live it?

I would bet money this letting go muscle of mine is going to need to be developed and fine-tuned one day at a time for the rest of my life. I am just grateful I am able to do it more quickly now than I previously could.

Here’s another “weird and way out analogy” that wandered into my head this morning. Our group was discussing scones and using the term “plum” and “prune” interchangeably. Without thinking, I commented, “A prune is just an elder-plum.” In retrospect, my life’s experiences and the progress I’ve made in turning things over to God over the decades I’ve spent in recovery have been turning “my will and my life” into a more highly evolved spiritual being. Just as a plum becomes chewier and develops more sweetness and flavor as it becomes a prune, perhaps this letting go business has helped distill my being into an essence that is more easily connected to God. God bless and keep you, plum, prune, or whatever.

Control

Image courtesy of Stuart Mile/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Again, here I sit typing at the keyboard. Spoiler alert: today I am going to be talking  health issues in some detail, so you might want to skip to the last paragraph if you want to “cut to the chase” and read my spiritual slant on all this.

I called me doctor yesterday. It was a form of surrender. I gave up. I have been doing everything I can to control my blood sugar levels by diet alone. Up until now I have been very successful—-mostly, I think, due to God’s grace. I went off of my oral diabetic medication over three years ago and have not had to go back on it because God showed me a way to eat that is healthy for me. I am glad I called and asked for help because my fasting blood sugar when I woke up this morning was 67.

Thirty some odd years ago, long before I became a Type 2 diabetic, I was diagnosed as hypoglycemic. At that time my low blood sugars were mostly due to forgetting to eat at set times (in rebellion) or eating the wrong things.  My self-will run riot in regards to controlling my own food agenda continued, and, consequently, I became a Type 2 diabetic about fifteen years later.  When my blood sugar is low (hypoglycemia) I get a bad headache, I feel irritable, nothing seems to “go right,” and I have trouble thinking clearly. It is a bit like being a little bit drunk or, perhaps even more so, experiencing a hangover.

I should not be surprised that my body chemistry is changing as I age, but I am not enjoying it. I am no longer predictable. Yesterday I realized that I was once again trying to “control” my food and health even though I have asked for God’s help. That is when I surrendered, because I am thoroughly confused at this point. Fruit and protein are supposed to keep your blood sugar level as is eating five small meals during the day about 3-4 hours apart.  Complex carbohydrates (whole grains) help some people, but they are bad news for me,  so I avoid eating them or anything with flour or sugar in it. I know I need to add fruit and/or protein to my diet,  but at this time I am unsure  how to do it.

My doctor’s office just called me back right before I began writing this blog. My doctor’s advice was to add fruit juice, fruit, or protein. She suggested yogurt. I told the nurse I eat Greek yogurt and fruit at once or twice a day, so I would not be adding them to my diet unless I added additional amounts. Here’s what we finally decided for me to try first: a mid-morning small fruit or protein serving and adding additional fruit to my lunch. Since I asked God this morning for knowledge of his will for me and the power to carry that out, I will follow my doctor’s advice and see what happens.

Now that I’ve bored you with all that tedious detail, I’ll try to tell you what spiritual message I see in all this. First, I need to trust God—even if that means asking for and following advice from others. Second, I need to act accordingly. This is where faith comes in because in the past when I’ve added the recommended foods I stopped losing weight and even started gaining weight at times. The spiritual message I am getting from all this is sometimes you  just have to trust God and carry on—-so, “Trust God and Carry On” will be my motto for today. Take care,  and God bless and keep you.

diaster plan

Image courtesy of  Stuart Miles/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Today is a day of irony. I was lecturing to my class about the role nurses play in responding to disasters, and I mentioned that one of the most important things we can do is try to prepare people about how to respond in a disaster/crisis situation by teaching them safety tips, etc. One of the examples I gave to illustrate this point was to remind them how important it is to keep fire exits accessible, and I mentioned that currently  the front door to the building we were in was  chained and padlocked shut, and if there was a fire they should not try to exist through that door.

On my way out of the building after my class I stopped to leave a complaint in the Dean’s office about what a major fire hazard it is to have a fire exit locked. It was explained to me this was the only way they could get the door to lock and that, consequently, this was the only way they had to”secure the building.” I was also told that unfortunately, at this point, no one had a key to the padlock. I was nice. I exited the building without saying something I would regret later. There comes a time, I think, when it should become more important to secure the safety of people occupying a building than it is to secure the contents of a building.

As always, I am left wondering what I am supposed to learn from this—–what spiritual lesson is embedded in today’s situation at the university? I must examine my own “crisis readiness.” I must admit, I only keep a  limited supply of canned goods and bottled water on hand for emergencies. I have “Mylar miracle” blankets that are made to keep body heat in  should it become necessary to do so. It is my plan that my dogs and I can use these “throw away” blankets along with other blankets  if we are without power. Beyond that, physically speaking, I am not big on “emergency preparedness.”

I have endured and survived numerous health “crises” during the past several years, and I have learned my best strategy for preparedness is staying spiritually fit and keeping my connection with God strong. Then, in times of crisis, I am aware God is facing it with me. I have to practice “talking to God” when I don’t have “a problem” so that it is easier to instantly turn to God when I do. This type of spiritual preparedness is similar to what we teach new comers in 12 step programs. We teach them to practice calling their sponsor on a regular basis even when things are going good. This important practice makes it easier to reach out to a sponsor when one does have a problem. If I cultivate the habit of relating to God on a regular basis, then it is much easier for me to automatically turn to him in times of crisis.

And where does the locked door fit into all this? Well, for me, the locked door represents my false self. I consider my “false self” to be my self-centered ego. That “me and only me” place in my psyche has a tendency to try to run things without God’s assistance. When my ego shuts God out, my inner awareness of God is blocked, it is as if I am effectively locking him out of my heart and soul because I refuse to acknowledge his presence there and everywhere. I have to constantly work at surrendering my life and my will over to God so that my heart and soul are always open to God’s presence and love rather than being “blocked”  from them by my ego.

May our perception remain open so we are able to perceive and acknowledge God’s constant love and presence today, tomorrow, and always. May God bless and keep you.

For more on this topic go to: http://www.semissourian.com/blogs/farwell

snowy tree

Image courtesy of  dan/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I’ve hit a writer’s block these last couple of days. I don’t know why. I am “pretty sure,” as we say in the Arkansas Ozarks where I grew up, that I cannot blame my block on the icy cold weather we’re having. I filled my car up yesterday and by the time I finished and paid for my fuel the end of my thumb   on my right hand was so cold it was numb and I couldn’t feel it. I am sure you folks who live up north are used to that sort of thing, but it was a personal revelation to me of how only  brief exposure to temperatures like we have been having can be dangerous. Then, tonight, I just heard on the news that they tried to put a house fire out in a nearby town and had to go to about four or fire hydrants before they could find one that was not frozen. I must admit I’ve never thought about how difficult it must be to fight fires when everything water-related is frozen.

I am insulated from the “cold reality” here in my little 60 year old house–my pipes haven’t frozen, and I keep things at a constant chilly 63 degrees. The dogs all wear sweaters or jackets, and I wear sweats or leggings—and layer with layers of socks, sweaters, and vests. I don’t see how the homeless can survive when temperatures get this low. I am grateful we have what we need to stay warm, dry, and inside.

I don’t exactly know where this is going in terms of a “spiritual theme”—-but where it seems to be taking me is to a sense of deep gratitude that I was born into the life I have had. I am grateful that though I don’t have a lot, I have enough. I may not get all my “wants, ” but God has made sure my needs are met. And in meeting those needs, God has taught me I can trust him; and I am extremely grateful for the gift of “growing trust.”

We were talking at a meeting the other night about how one needs to be able to trust to work AA’s 12 steps, and our conversation went from there to how do you learn to trust. Sadly, I think it is easier for me to describe all the incidents in my life that make it hard for me to trust. It is much harder to describe how I have learned trust. What I said in the meeting, and what I still believe, is that I think I’ve learned just a little bit more trust every time I turn my will and my life over to the care of my Higher Power—-because when I do so, in spite of my fears of letting go of control, I always get “good things” and “good experiences” in return.  I have learned to trust God, too, because he has been there with me to see me safely through the various crises I’ve experienced. You can’t be “hauled back in from the brink of death” as many times as I have without knowing that God can be trusted.

The trust I’ve developed over the years is for God and not necessarily for other humans.  However, I am noticing that the more I trust God, the more I trust the God I believe is within all of us. In the past I have had a tendency to trust the wrong people—usually for wrong reasons. Now, when I find myself trusting people it is more for the right reasons—–reasons that are spiritually based rather than coming from a needy co-dependent place that needs validation from others . Now that I am involved in an active, ongoing relationship with God, I am no longer needy, and I am definitely less co-dependent. I have not yet learned to totally trust my  judgment of others, but I am beginning to believe that if I allow God to lead me instead of my self-will, I will know when it is safe to trust someone and when I need to back off.

Well, looks like today’s blog meandered its way around to the topics of gratitude and trust. A couple of traits I am glad I have been cultivating these past few decades. I am a slow learner! May God bless and keep you.