Dear Readers; No blog this week and maybe for the next few weeks. I will be concentrating on my paintings for a while.
Fancifulfloyd

As I plod my 2 mile walk at our church's Christian Life Center track, every other walker passes me. I joke that once I was in a race where I was the only contestant but I'm so slow I still came in second. Hey; I'm grateful I can still walk. I also use the time to think about subjects for upcoming blogs.

I thought this morning that if you live long enough you're going to see most things at least twice. Fashions, for example, and other areas of design and art which seem to cycle every decade or so. Some things my take longer. Colors of the 70's, once so popular (turquoise, chartreuse, etc.) and now considered to be just this side of hideous, will reappear someday as the must-have NEW COLORS! All it would take is for some celebrity like Martha to make the declaration and her countless devoted followers would fall in line. I hope that someday ladies will again wear hats and white gloves. My wife greeted that idea with thumbs down. LaNell said if men had to wear hats and white gloves I wouldn't think it would be so charming.
Past political solutions proposed to solve national problems is another area that gets recycled. Our president, who is a rank amateur at governing and who has proved the adage told to children for many years, that anyone can grow up to be president, seems to have looked to FDR for guidance in solving some of our current problems. Although FDR was a seasoned politician and former governor of New York, very little of what he did made any improvement during the Depression. His Progressive advisers offered many noble proposals for the betterment of society. Some became law but most simply made the central government bigger and more bureaucratic as will Obamacare. Progressives find the Constitution a nuisance and are constantly trying to get around it or undermine it in order to further their agenda.
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In connection with last week's blog on security I offer this poem I wrote years ago:

Security

Some souls float on the surface of life,
Content to drift with the tide.
Others, afraid of venturing too far,
Find secluded coves and hide

They shall come down to the evening of life
Wishing they had been more bold.
Fearful of getting too close to the fire,
They end being out in the cold.

Don't worry what others are thinking,
Be your very own woman or man,
Cast off your line from safe harbor;
Live to the fullest you can.

Don't waste the gold of hours;
Too soon our sky is the sod.
Don't trade freedom for safety,
There's security only in God.

"Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13 New King James

Fame and fortune are just not what they're cracked up to be. Exhibits: Al and Tipper Gore, Sandra Bullock and former husband Jesse James, etc. No amount of money or acclaim can assure anyone protection from disappointment, sorrow, illness and, ultimately, death which the Greek poet Euripides said is, "The debt we all must pay."

For some the inevitability of death, and the mistaken notion that this life is all there is, urges them to cram as many pleasures as possible into their lives; experiences that may be moral or , if that doesn't do the trick, immoral. Hey; What ever it takes. They must be constantly involved and in motion. To slow down, to think about where they are going and why they exist might cause them to face the fact that they are mortal like everyone else and they will have to "pay the price." This activity, this never-ending search for pleasure erroneously referred to as "living life to the fullest," can be compared to a duck gliding smoothly on the surface of the water but out of sight beneath the water his feet are churning furiously. How often that could be applied to men and women, of all ages, who seem to have it all together on the outside but inside are frightened children, dismayed and disappointed in their fruitless search for meaning, love, peace and satisfaction. They desperately struggle to find them in drugs and/or at the bottom of a bottle; looking for love and security in all the wrong places. One of the descriptions of Ernest Hemingway, the famous author, included that he knew how to "live life to the fullest." Yet, he was plagued by self-doubt and spiritual bankruptcy and so finally committed suicide.

No one has to have my permission to live however they wish. I haven't done the best job with my own life. But I would suggest that no life can truly be full if the fear of death is constantly lurking nearby. Hiding that fear in the shadows doesn't erase the reality of death. Wouldn't it be immeasurably better to be free from fear? To have a real sense of security in whatever situation that comes against us? To know that whether in life or death we belong to Christ?
Of course.

Real security is formed neither in our physical nor in our emotional being; it was formed in our spiritual being when we accepted the free gift of God in Christ's sacrifice at the Cross. Unfortunately, after we have accepted this precious gift we may not have known what to do next. Too often we are cast adrift without true biblical teaching, directions for study, fellowship with mature Christians or an understanding of the spiritual gifts that came with our salvation. We may not have been told, taught or found for ourselves in the Scriptures that we have been set free in Christ. "If the Son sets you free you are free indeed." Part of that promise is the freedom from fear. "God has not given us a spirit of fear but of power and of love and of a sound mind." Time after time Jesus said, "Fear not." ("Don't be afraid.")

Listen to St. Paul, "Since we, God's children, are human beings--made of flesh and blood--he became flesh and blood too by being born in human form; for only as a human being could he die and in dying break the power of the devil who had the power of death. Only in that way could he deliver those who through fear of death have been living lives as slaves to constant dread." Hebrews 2:14, 15 LB

Read Romans:8:31-39. Here are verses 35-39 LB:
"Who then can ever keep Christ's love from us? When we have trouble or calamity, when we are hunted down and destroyed, is it because he doesn't love us anymore? And if we are hungry, or penniless, or in danger, or threatened with death, has God deserted us?
"No, for the Scriptures tell us that for his sake we must be ready to face death every moment of the day----we are like sheep awaiting slaughter; but despite all this, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ who loved us enough to die for us. For I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from his love. Death can't, and life can't. The angels won't and all the powers of hell itself cannot keep God's love away. Our fears for today, our worries about tomorrow, or where we are---high above the sky, or in the deepest ocean---nothing will ever be able to separate us from the love of God demonstrated by our Lord Jesus Christ when he died for us."

Freedom and security; Christ died so you and I could have them. We must not drive more spikes into Christ by refusing what his blood has bought. Freedom and security; they're a package deal. Please; don't be timid of spirit. Grab the package and run! It's yours. Embrace it in your spirit as the ancient Rabbis would dance with the Torah! To God be the glory.

Following the death of Nita, my first wife, I was a bachelor for two years. It was interesting how quickly I went from domesticated to caveman which is the default state of men. (If you are a neatnik you may want to skip this blog.) Previously neatness reigned in our household due to Nita's efforts and weekly visits by Charlotte our cleaning lady. "Cleaning lady" doesn't do her justice. She was part angel; part Mrs. Fix-it; part of our family and an absolute cleaning, washing, dusting and ironing whiz. She was energy and enthusiasm personified.
Fortunately, she stayed on as I entered bachelorhood otherwise my bed would never again have been made up; (What's the point? I'd just mess it up again,) and dust would have turned all the furniture grey. Vacuuming? Windows? All Charlotte's territory where I didn't tread.
As for cooking, I was on my own. By the way, my hearty blessings on the inventors of the microwave and the dishwasher. Meals generally were based on convenience rather than any thought to nutritional concerns. If it was frozen, packaged, canned or pre-cooked it had priority on the menu. Hot dogs, cold cuts, tv dinners, cereal, soup and chocolate were the main food groups no matter what the government pyramid says. If Martha Stewart wanted to come to my house in person to cook and set the table, fine. Otherwise I was not even remotely interested in her ideas of gracious living. In fact, I didn't really need a table for dining. Meals were consumed while I stood at the sink. That way, dirty utensils were very close to the dishwasher. Soup was eaten directly from the pot it was heated in; why mess up a bowl? To cool the soup I blew on it loudly and slurped with gusto and to my heart's content, habits that were later quickly corrected by LaNell, my present wonderful wife. (I've been blessed beyond measure to have had two beautiful, loving wives. Far more than I deserve. People who know me heartily agree.))
My painting gear spilled over from my studio to the living room and to the kitchen table. Brushes, paints etc. stayed where I left them at the end of the day. Very convenient.
Each time I gave Charlotte a raise she resisted and I insisted. It was the same with her Christmas bonus. She accepted it and invariably would buy me (and Nita and later LaNell) ) a present that amounted to more than her bonus. This remarkable lady had her own style of dress and it was--um--unique. It fit her outgoing personality perfectly as did her glowing red hair. Always upbeat, smiling and laughing Charlotte blew into our home and hearts each Wednesday morning for 19 years like a refreshing breeze. In addition to her housecleaning five days a week she also drove a school bus and there was usually a story or two about the school kids or the cranky bus that broke down far from mechanics at the bus barn. But there was never any gossip about her other house cleaning clients.
One day she called and said she had a doctor's appointment and would be late the next Wednesday. When she arrived I could see she in her expression she had received bad news. Pancreatic cancer. Very low survival rate. Would I pray for her? Of course. I laid hands on her and asked God for his healing power to be in her. In the ensuing weeks she continued her cleaning until it was physically impossible for her to move a vacuum cleaner. Staying active as long as possible was what she wanted to do.
The final time we saw Charlotte alive was at a small gathering of friends, she requested, in her home with her husband.
Thin and quiet but her spirit strong as ever, she sat with obvious effort as we recalled the good times. Then she said she was tired and needed rest. It seemed strange to hear this red-haired, former dynamo admit she was tired.
Charlotte loved Jesus and she saw him just before she died.
"Well done good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things. I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord." Matt. 25:21