Now You Will See What I Can Do!

Posted on December 3, 2018 by Donna Coulson

 

All you have to do is read the news to get scared and depressed.  There’s so much hate out there.  Name calling and hard hearts, selfishness and finger pointing seem to be the current accepted problem-solving protocol. If the ugliness was just among politicians and late-night radio talk shows, we could ignore it.  Instead of discussing issues and hashing out solutions, anyone brave enough to stand up for a differing view quickly and unmercifully becomes a pariah.  Instead of communication, the accepted reaction to dissenting views has become savage, brutal attacks, mostly verbal but certainly sometimes physical, without hesitation or filter. And, this practice of foregoing the conventions of polite conversation and expression has permeated every part of our society. Even family ties no longer obligate members to respect, understanding, or grace.

Right now, trying to address and improve the problems our country is facing, because of this unmitigated infusion of abhorrence and loathing for anyone who has a differing (conservative!) opinion or view, seems like trying to make bricks without straw: difficult work with horrible and disastrous long-term effects. Moses would understand this perfectly.  He witnessed it first hand.  In all fairness, what Moses wanted to do was stay far away from the fray and lay low.  I understand his plan.  I can easily delete my news feeds and block what I don’t want to be subjected to and spend more time with a snorkel on. God, however, had other plans.  He hounded Moses until the man returned to Egypt and then cajoled and pushed the reluctant human into obedience.  When Moses’ first efforts to make things better were met with more ugliness and added strife, he was ready to give up.  He went back to God and told him that what he’s done so far had only made matters worse.  It’s God’s answer to Moses at this point that gives me comfort and courage. In Exodus 6: 1 God answers Moses with the best promise of hope.  He tells Moses: “Now you will see what I will do!” How cool is that?  God knew that life was a train wreck for all of the Israelites.  He knew it was hard.  He knew of the hatred and unfairness, the bricks without straw.  With that sentence I can just picture God’s smile as he rubbed His hands together and answered, “Great, now watch this!!”  God used the situation in order to demonstrate His mighty power.  Yay!

I don’t know about you, but I find comfort in that on several levels.  First, I love the reminder that no matter how sordid our world and our lives get, God is bigger – God is stronger – God is aware and can’t be defeated.  The second comfort is even better: God’s got this.  It isn’t up to me to solve the problems or convince the haters or even to debate it.  God’s power and might are going to be revealed at just the right time and His goodness will prevail.  Period.  My job?  To stand.  To stand in obedience and speak the Truth when the opportunity arises.  Name calling and reductionist attacks are hurtful, but they certainly are ineffective against God’s power.  Amen.

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Christmas Movies

Posted on November 26, 2018 by Donna Coulson

It’s Christmas time!  I love Christmas.  I love knowing that my Savior took on human form. I love that He died to take my sins and He lived so that I can be assured that He understands my hurts and aches and trials.

I love Christmas for many reasons, and some of them are that this is the season for Christmas lights and vanilla scented candles and hot chocolate (yes, even in the Caribbean!), and especially – Christmas movies.  Since Halloween I’ve been eyeing the lineup of Christmas movies available online and I’ve been looking forward to the guilty (though benign and innocent) pleasure of watching as many as I can fit in (and Karl will agree to!).

You know the ones I mean…They have names like Magic at Christmas, or Home for the Holidays.  While I enjoy It’s a Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street, those aren’t the movies I’m anticipating.  Nope.  I love the cheesy, predictable Hallmark ones.  The plots are simple. Someone is unhappy.  Usually he or she comes home or is called home but it’s not where she (or he) really wants to be. Then, because of the magic of Christmas and some hot guy or girl (often an old flame but not always), minds are changed, love is in the air, and Christmas comes peacefully and with a beautiful snow shower at the perfect moment, the ending is happy.

I admit they are unrealistic, but even so, I love everything about these movies.  I love the predictability – no stress.  I love the forgiveness, the growth, the grace and mercy that are always the themes.  I love the happy endings.

Hmmm.    But really, are they unrealistic?  Don’t be too quick to claim “Of course they are.”  In the ‘real world’, happy endings are rare and fleeting. If we think about Jesus’ life, and stop at the crucifixion, yes, Christmas movies a far cry from reality.  No way dying on the cross is a happy ending.  If I consider what I have to look forward to in the next twenty or thirty years – getting older, body parts getting stiff and wearing out, wrinkles, possible dementia, illness, dying.  Nope no happy ending there.  If I read the news, the world is full of hate and dissension, persecution and misunderstanding.  Nope.  No happy endings in sight.  But. We can’t stop at the crucifixion.  Jesus rose from the grave and is alive.  Because of this fact, as believers, we can live a life of stress-free predictability, too.  Because of forgiveness, and grace, and mercy we might not get a happy ending in this life, but we are promised an eternal happy ending with God.

Okay, then.  Here’s the plan:  I refuse to feel guilty for watching cheesy Christmas movies this season, I’m going to embrace them as allegories of the Christian walk and keep my eyes on the Writer and Editor of my own personal Christmas story, knowing that HE will be faithful and that I am assured the ultimate happy ending.

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KNOW

Posted on November 19, 2018 by Donna Coulson

I love Sunday mornings.  It doesn’t matter how farfy or crabby or apathetic I am, by the time the music is even halfway finished at our island church, I am all in.  This Sunday was no exception, though I admit, about 4/5s of the way through the sermon, Pastor John stepped on my toes.  I wasn’t happy.  I mean, who wants to have their beautiful, praising God worship attitude dampened by the pastor saying something that cuts to the quick?  John was preaching about Psalm 100.  I have that chapter memorized, I know it, I like it a lot – so what could he possibly have said to offend me?  It’s all right there in verse three: Know that the Lord is God.

On the surface, that shouldn’t be troublesome.  I know that God is God, that’s what I was just singing about.  No problem.  Except, John pointed out that in his mind, that word know means something deep. Deeper than knowing my multiplication facts.  It means to be so aware that He is God that you are willing to submit your own will to his. Then came the sentence that really got me: John says that if you are truly submitting to God, then “prayer isn’t time to give God instructions.” Ouch.  My toes are flat and my heart is bruised. Yes, I struggle with being a control freak, and whether I want to admit it our not, my prayers can easily turn into a to do list for the Almighty.  Yikes.  In light of his wise and (painful) teaching, I am approaching this Thanksgiving and Christmas season with a new and, I hope, improved attitude along with a few major modifications to how I pray: a little more thanks and substantially less bossiness.  And by the way, Pastor John, thanks!

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Two judgements

Posted on November 12, 2018 by Donna Coulson

At Bible study this last Wednesday we ended up talking about two judgement the Bible describes.  Two.  I will be the first to admit that I don’t understand all this well and I offer this disclaimer right up front – this is the Lord’s business and I am not even close to understanding His ways.  That said, as I understand this based on scripture and teaching, the first judgment will be that of believers and non-believers. This judgment is the harsh, final division.  “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved.” (Acts 16:31)  Jesus said it best, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6)  No works, no negotiation.  My faith and God’s grace.  That’s it.  Sheep go to heaven, goats go to hell. Scary, but that’s the one I feel really safe with.  I love Jesus, and He is in me and with me.  Got it.  I’m saved.

The second judgement is a bit different.  2 Corinthians 5:10 describes this: For we must all appear before the judgement seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.” (Jesus himself talked about it in Matthew 16:27). This judgement, apparently, is only for believers.  Presumably, if I’ve done good things with the life God gave me, I will be rewarded (crowns, gold stars…).  At the same time, I will have to take responsibility for the things that I did badly. Picturing this second judgement is difficult and perhaps frightening, and from some of what was said at Bible study, it seems that there are Christians who are fearful of the scene.

But as I’ve been thinking about it, I don’t think I am.  It’s not because I feel like I’ve done a good job living this life.  Quite the contrary, I think I have blown it more than I’ve gotten it right, I’ve wasted time and talents, I’ve acted badly, hurt people, and been a horrible witness.  Knowing how many bad choices I’ve made should make me tremble at the thought of standing in front of Jesus and having Him critique my life and dole out rewards and punishments. Except. The one thing I am confident about is Jesus’ character.  He is loving, He is just, and He has a great sense of humor.  I look at how he redeemed Peter with care and gentleness after Peter denied Him three times.  I look at how patient he was when He let Thomas stick his finger in His scars. His love for the adulterous woman, the woman at the well, the woman who touched the hem of His garment- theyall give me peace.  When I stand in front of Jesus and account for my life, He’ll be honest, and no doubt I will cry at all the ways I let Him down (I do that already!), but He will love me. I can’t help but think that He will go even farther. I’ll confess each wrong, and He will show me how He came behind me and turned my ugly into His beauty – in my life and in the lives of others. It will be a hard meeting, but one that ends understanding and joy.

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The Last Straw

Posted on November 5, 2018 by Donna Coulson

I used to carry a backpack instead of a purse. I had a regular sized one for the weekdays and a small ‘fashionable’ one for weekends and evenings. They were easier to carry and held all the ‘stuff’ I needed – like chap stick and breath mints along with highlighters, pens, a screwdriver (one never knows!), extra sticky notes, usually a set or two of papers to grade, my plan book, a book to read, my MP3 player.  You get the idea. Now, because I am retired and because I don’t stray far from home (I can’t – the island is only 27 miles long and 7 miles wide!), I carry a small purse.  My purse usually holds only the most important items  – my wallet, sun screen, sun glasses, chap stick, my phone.  As of last week, my purse has a new permanent resident, a piece of equipment for my daily life that is an essential tool for life.

My metal straw.

 

What? Essential? I know that sounds silly, but I it isn’t.  You see, among all the strife and hardship this world has to offer, and on this island where recycling is only barely beginning, pot holes can swallow small cars, and many people still have tarps for roofs, one of the greatest threats to humanity and the environment has recently been identified.  Yes, of course I am talking about the dreaded plastic straw.  Health conscious pubs and bars and restaurants are no longer supplying straws, and the horrified looks one receives if one asks can chill to the bone even in the tropics.  You see, apparently, plastic straws end up by the gazillions in the sea somehow and present a terrible health risk to coral and turtles, therefore straws have fallen from favor. Now I have limited experience, but personally, I’ve never encountered a plastic straw at the beach or in the water.  Ever. I have seen the errant flop-flop, the occasional pair of swim trunks (How?), and lots of Styrofoam containers and beer bottles among the coral and fish, but never a straw.  Hmmm.  But I digress.  I like straws.  I use straws to slurp up smoothies and mojitos, water with lemon and margaritas. I don’t like drinking from a glass.  So, what’s a girl to do?

Well, you buy a metal straw and carry it around with you so that whenever the Caribbean spirit asserts itself and you find yourself sipping a cool thirst-quencher on an afternoon out with your husband and / or friends, you can whip it out and thoroughly relax and enjoy without hard looks or damage to the reefs.  Problem solved.  Sort of.  Now all I have to do is figure out how to keep the lint from the bottom of my purse out of it during transport…

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Do it. Period

Posted on October 29, 2018 by Donna Coulson

You may have noticed that I haven’t been blogging very regularly lately. I have a confession to make. I’m not lazy, and I certainly haven’t stopped having opinions. Nope.  What happened is this: I began listening to the voices in our society and the really mean voice inside my head, and perhaps there was another little evil voice from powers originating somewhere other than this realm, I’m not sure, and I began to think that I have nothing to say of meaning and value. Then I started thinking, “No one likes what I write anyway, who am I kidding?” What began with being disheartened by a reprehensible political climate went full blown into an epic pity party and then slowly morphed into being convinced that my writing is unnecessary, irrelevant, unread. I decided that if I just quit blogging, and maybe even writing novels, no one would even notice.

Armed with this new resolve, I went to church on Sunday morning.  Uh oh.  What happened then is this: Our youth pastor, Pastor Marthious’ sermon was about boldly accomplishing the work that God intends for us to accomplish. (Just Do It!)   My new attitude didn’t like to hear this.  My new attitude had become discouragedly convinced that I didn’t have a purpose.  Now, Marthious was showing me scripture that demands I acknowledge the talent God gifted me with and pressuring me to get out there and DO IT.  (As explanation, yes, there were other people in the congregation, I wasn’t alone in the sanctuary, but I’m saying me because it felt like Marthious and God were, in fact, speaking personally to me.)

So.  Here’s this week’s blog, and in the morning, I’m back working on novel number four.  I’m rejecting the voices (from inside and outside) that try to stop me from obeying God’s call for me, and I’m going to continue to do what I’m supposed to.

Categories: Living on St Croix, Random thoughts on being me | 2 Comments

Cats and Deer

Posted on October 15, 2018 by Donna Coulson

I love our mornings here on island, they start slowly. Since our house is tucked safely on the west side of a big hill, the actual sun doesn’t show itself to us until about 10 or so.  The result is that mornings seem to linger and relax.  Unfortunately, we don’t get to do the same.  We don’t lay around drinking tea and eating toast during that time.  No, those beautiful minutes between getting up and the moment the sun peeks over the hill are perfect for gardening and doing hard work outside, since it is cooler before the sun is hammering down on us.    For example, by eleven this morning, I’d weeded three big flower beds and fought a yucky infestation of some kind of caterpillar intent on eating my newly transplanted spider lilies.  Sometimes I’d rather be munching toast, but truly, the way my garden beds look right now, I’ve no complaints about how my day started.

Oh, yes, that is what I was going to blog about…how my day started this morning.  I got distracted.  Sorry.  The sky was a dusty pink when we woke up this morning, about 6:30 I think.  When Karl got out of bed, he glanced out the window and remarked that we had a deer in the yard.  I got up and joined him to watch a very young mule deer buck, the points of his antlers were just little nubs on his head, as he enjoyed our yard.  He was skittish and kept looking in one direction, though, and it took a minute or so to realize that our neighbor’s black and white cat was also in the yard, partially hidden behind a seagrape seeding I’ve been nurturing.   It was clear from our perspective that the deer was a little anxious about the cat, but also clearly curious.  As far at the kitty goes, he was calm – all except the little white point at the tip of his tail – which twitched continually.  The two stood for several minutes, just looking at each other from about a three-foot distance, then finally the cat stood and stretched while the deer lifted its head and then bounded away through the rain forest.

It was a simple encounter and I feel lucky to have watched it. Later, as I weeded the garden, my thoughts kept coming back to those two creatures, so different and holding such potential as enemies.  Then my thoughts strayed to the anger and hostilities our country is so full of between right and left, republican and democrat.  And I wish, I pray, that somehow we could figure out how to stop fighting like cats and dogs and figure out how to live together like this morning’s cat and deer.

Categories: America and American History, Living on St Croix, Random thoughts on being me | Leave a comment

We Need a Little Forgiveness

Posted on October 1, 2018 by Donna Coulson

I’ve been thinking about forgiveness. I was raised in a Christian home and taught right from wrong with the Bible as the authority.  I accepted Jesus as my Savior when I was quite young.  Even so, there were patches of time throughout my life during which I walked a little (ok a lot) farther away from God’s Truth and listened a little less (does covering my ears count as a little?) to His voice in my life. Certainly at those points, I made poor choices and took actions that I regret and am not proud of as a result. Sadly, even when I do listen carefully and diligently, seeking God’s leading in my life, I blow it sometimes and make equally, or maybe even more, poor choices that I also feel remorse for and am ashamed of.

That’s precisely why I’ve been thinking this week about forgiveness.  Jesus taught over and over that love and forgiveness should be our constant goal and the recipient of our energy.  It seems to me forgiveness has three aspects. One involves confession and repentance to God.  The second involves confession and seeking forgiveness from the one you wronged.  The last is figuring out how to forgive yourself.  For me, the first is the easiest.  It isn’t easy because I am seeking cheap grace. When I confess my sins to God I realize I am owning my bad choices to the Creator of the Universe.  Gulp. But, actually asking God’s forgiveness is easiest because I trust Him most.  I know His character, I know His willingness and loving desire to forgive me. (He wouldn’t have sent Jesus if He didn’t want me restored).

Going to the person I wronged, owning my actions and words, admitting I was wrong and asking for forgiveness, compassion and restoration is much harder.  It’s more difficult because the outcome is so unknown.  Will the person forgive me?  Will we get past this?  Then there’s the whole dilemma of dealing with wrongs that have laid there, unacknowledged and unspoken for years perhaps.  (Think something you did to your sister when you were ten, or mistakes you made when your now grown children were little.) Those are really tricky.  Jesus says you need to deal with those sins, too, (I’m thinking of Matthew 5:24 here.)  but the question is, do I need to deal with them just between myself and God, or do I really need to go to the person? If I did go to that person, would I reopen a wound that was healed and thereby make it new and real and cause hurt all over again?  The danger is real.  Matthew 5:24 says specifically says “if your brother has something against you”, what if you don’t know if he is holding on to that hurt or not? Do I want to confess to heal the relationship or to just make myself feel better?  Can confession take the form of making sure that I learn from my bad act and resolve to never treat another person the same way? This is certainly a slippery, mucky mess to sort through.

Part of figuring out how to sort through old sins against someone is wrapped up in my third aspect of forgiveness.  Forgiving myself.  For me, this one is the toughest. The Bible says that when we confess and repent, our sins are gone, vanished, washed away and nonexistent in the eyes of the Lord.  Why is it then, that I can’t seem to let some things go?  I hold them against myself. I remember that time I said wicked things to my sister, I’ve confessed to God and to her and been restored by both, yet… I remember the time I was unfair to my children, and wasn’t the mom that God and they needed me to be.  I’ve confessed those as well, yet…  the memories come back and so does the guilt.  I can’t begin to count the number of times I’ve approached God for forgiveness of the exact same old sins.  He assures me those sins are gone (east from west, white as snow), yet I continue to need to bring them up, remember them, and confess them again.  Forgiving myself isn’t about God following through, He does.  It’s about me.  It’s about not allowing those memories and that self-recrimination effect my today.  On the days when old sins are crowding me, asking for my remorse and worse yet, for my shame and embarrassment, I need to remember Who has forgotten about it, and remind myself to just feel thankful.

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Leaving the Mainland

Posted on September 24, 2018 by Donna Coulson

Did you miss me?  I haven’t blogged in a couple of weeks, we’ve been too busy enjoying our last few days on the mainland before we head home to St. Croix.  It’s always an interesting transition, we love being in Wyoming so it’s sad to be leaving while we are also ready to get home after several months of being away. Highlights of our trip certainly include all the friends and family we got to see, and of course, the five weeks we spent camping remotely in the Sierra Madres.  On top of that there are some other times we want to remember and celebrate, so we began a tradition last year of compiling a group of lists of our favorite mainland moments.  I thought you’d enjoy seeing a few of the items on that list:

  • Watching three of our five grands swimming and enjoying a lake on a picnic. And spending time with our daughters in Michigan.


  • Having deer almost every evening and morning hanging out near our camp.

  • Being surprised as a bull elk literally ran through our camp one evening.
  • Having the opportunity to share my very most favorite place in the world (Haggarty Creek and Bridger Peak) with our bonus daughter Amanda.

  • Having a fox explore our camp one morning.

  • Visiting Zollman Zoo in Rochester, Minnesota and the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota
  • Watching a meteor shower with dear friends Branda and Dave from the top of Battle Pass in the middle of the night.
  • Listening to three of my very favorite pastors speak in the same day at our church’s 100th anniversary celebration.
  • Sitting once again on the top of Bridger Peak.
  • Spending time with two of the most stellar people on this planet, Liz and Greg.
  • Seeing two huge bull moose as they lazed next to a creek – totally unconcerned by our presence or the clicks of our camera.

There are so many more precious memories of this summer.  Mostly, we are humbled and thankful that God has enabled us to live this pipe dream of ours…living part of the year in our fifth wheel as gypsies and the rest of the time as pirates in the Caribbean.

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Lyric lightness

Posted on September 3, 2018 by Donna Coulson

I will readily admit that I misconstrue and misquote and garble the lyrics to songs on a regular basis.  Actually, I do so without remorse or an inclination to change the error of my ways. Hillary and Sam used to tease me about it. Karl corrects me. It doesn’t matter, if I’m not sure of the words, I happily make them up, and sometimes I even like my lyrics better than those the poet wrote.  I have chuckled at myself for mishearing lyrics.  In the Credence Clearwater song, “Bad Moon Rising”, I still hear and sing, “There’s a bathroom on the right” instead of “there’s a bad moon on the rise”.

Despite my own engrained history of bastardizing lyrics, Karl, who mostly hears lyrics correctly,  has revealed himself as the king of misheard lyrics and even though I discovered his commanding malapropism a couple of weeks ago, simply thinking of it causes belly laughs and mirthful tears.  Here’s the story:

When Karl and I fell in love with the Caribbean, one of our favorite songs became an old Beach Boys’ classic called Kokomo.  I’m sure you’ve heard it.   (“Aruba, Jamaica, oh I want to take ya Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama”) It’s a list of Caribbean places and an invitation to go “fall in love to the rhythm of a steel drum band.”  The song has sort of become one of our anthems, and we sing it together when it comes on.  So, imagine my confusion:  We were in the mountains, listening to tunes on the MP3 player blasting out of our camper speakers, enjoying the day.  We’d just finished listening to Kokomo, and in the quiet moments afterward, we had this conversation…

Karl began,  “In such a positive Caribbean  song, I’ve never understood why they have to insult Vermont.”

I just stared at him.  Sometimes my Venus and his Mars are not aligned.

Responding to my silence he added, “It just doesn’t seem right or like those lyrics belong.”

Now I needed clarification.  “What lyrics are those?”

“You know, the line that says “Martinique, Vermont’s a crappy state”. He sang it with feeling.

“Oh.  Wait.  What?”

Needless to say, after a period of time during which I laughed so hard I thought my stomach muscles would be permanently affected, I wiped away the tears and responded.  “Babe, that line is “Martinique, that Montserrat mystique”.

Now it was his turn to be dumbstruck.  “No, you are mistaken. It says Vermont’s a crappy state.”

Of course, it doesn’t matter that later I looked it up and confirmed that the lyrics say nothing about New England, those are the lyrics he hears.  And, now, of course, those are the lyrics we sing any and every time we hear that song.

Hail to the new king of misheard lyrics.  😊

 

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