My Friend Dan

Besides being a terrific friend and wondrous photographer, Dan has encouraged me in my walk for years. He has been reading The Valley of Vision, A collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions for a number of years. I have looked at it when we visit his home in New Mexico. I have looked at it online. I have hesitated to purchase it because the language is often Thou, Thy, Thine. I get caught up in translating to you, yours, etc. I even foudn a few entries in an online blog with updated language. On further review though, it was only a few entries.

Dan surprised me this summer and sent me the book. As you likely know we purged so MANY books when we moved. Hey! I need this one! I have been reading it, not daily, but often, and find these prayers more often than not address my heart.

Writing this week about sin and forgiveness, I read the entry called Divine Mercies. These phrases leapt out at me. Praying about sin the author wrote: “Yet still I live, and fly repenting to thy outstretched arms.” What a wondrous word picture! and “O my God, I bid farewell to sin by clinging to his cross, hiding in his wounds, and sheltering in his side.”

The phrase “clinging to His cross” reminds me of a drawing I did many years ago. Sadly I folded it at some point and wrote notes on the back. Guess I was not too impressed with my own work.

by M L Dutina

God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged. 19 We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, 20 where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. 

Hebrews 6:18-20 NIV

Wikipedia says the anchor symbolizes hope, steadfastness, calm and composure. I would have to agree!I stand on the flanges of the anchor. I embrace the cross, clinging to this anchor for my soul. Jesus is firm and secure. He has entered the inner sanctuary on my behalf. And I am at rest in Him.

Week of October 11, 2021

Been praying about how to tell my story of journey in life with God. Also been praying for my friend Mindy, mother of 2, happily married. After the extensive Whipple procedure to remove benign massive tumor around her organs, a year later as a result of the surgery, she got the liver transplant she so badly needed and then things went downhill rapidly. At this point Mindy is in an unconscious state, perhaps locked-in syndrome. She cannot communicate. She did seem to respond once, but now her eyes simply “look vacant.” The hospital was going to move her to a critical care facility but she has a fever of 101. God knows the heart of this woman and her family. Please, Lord, have mercy upon her. One of her daughters attended her first Homecoming dance last weekend. Here she is with her Dad. Please pray for Mindy and her family.

When our daughter was in elementary school and our son a toddler I began a prison ministry with my friend, Linda. I had taught a few Bible Studies through Women’s Aglow Fellowship. Our chapter was looking for a way to reach the community of the lost. The county had built a new jail facility. I saw on the evening news that they were giving tours of the facility before the prisoners were moved from the old facility. So I showed up for the tour. They asked what I wanted to do. I said volunteer for Bible Study. Though I had no credentials, they issued me a Pastoral pass.

A few months later Linda and I began going into the women’s unit once a week for Bible Study. She was allowed to bring her guitar to lead a few praise and worship songs. I taught from notes I developed from my study times. We asked each woman to sign in with her name and prisoner number. With their prisoner number we were allowed to write them a note each week. Linda and I would pray and have communion together before we entered the jail. We usually prayed all the way to downtown, sometimes intensely sensing warfare against our efforts.

I found a metal pin on button that I began to wear every week. It said, “I am not as innocent as I look.” Linda melted hearts with her unconditional love and hugs. I opened my mouth to teach and wanted them to understand I was not a sinless suburban woman coming to be a do-gooder among them. Frankly, you have never taught Bible study until you have spoken in a cinder block room with metal furniture bolted to the floor and $10,000 Pyramid blasting over the TV. The guards who were favorable to our visits often turned the volume a little lower. Yes, I quickly learned to project my voice!

Linda and I prayed too after the study time. We split the list of names and prayed over each note, asking the Holy Spirit what we should pray and what Scripture to include in our note to mail. The women were deeply touched by our notes. Touched as only the Lord could touch. Linda and I were acutely aware that we were nothing special. He had to be working.

I used as much Scripture as I could while teaching. Often I used 1 John 1:9 NIV

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.

1 John 1:9 NIV

Yes, I had learned many times over the value of this verse and the tremendous forgiveness and cleansing we are promised through it. I also understood Jeremiah 17:0

The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?

Jeremiah 17:9 KJV

Often I cannot even see my sin or sinful attitudes. The Word and the Spirit are willing to show me if I will listen and remain open to instruction. The trouble is I often think I have it all together and ignore the first few warnings from the Lord. That’s about the time I tend to say, “Thanks, Lord! I can take it from here!” Next thing I am face down in the mud.

No, I am not going to list all of the sins I have committed over the last years. I write all this to encourage you to keep your hearts soft and your ears open.

If we claim we have not sinned, we make Him out to be a liar and His word is not in us.

1 John 1:10 NIV

What Happened to Telling My Story?

I have found that as I approach 71 years old it is not so easy just to report to you the facts of my life with God. I keep reading new things that influence how I say what I have to say. You see, it is not easy to relate an incident with the Holy. Words automatically diminish the experience.

I ordered one book from the Search Ohio library system. It is entitled “Writing in the Sand” by Thomas Moore. Subtitled: Jesus and the Soul of the Gospels. I had previously read Moore’s Care of the Soul. Decided since we just purged SO MANY BOOKS when we moved, I should try to borrow this one to see if we need to own it. Now half way through this one, I think we probably will own it. Very meaty and will take me more than one reading to fully comprehend.

I was sent an email notice about a book called Letters from the Mountain written by Ben Palpant being sold by Rabbit Room. The description said, “In this memoir of the craft, Ben Palpant unpacks a lifetime of wisdom gained through the long, hard work of learning to write and to live well. Delivered as a series of letters from father to daughter, he patiently and gracefully paints a vision of what it means to enter into one’s creative work as an act of generative obedience – an act that blesses the writer, the work itself, and the world that receives it.”

I clicked purchase without any hesitation. A few days later as I walked the dog while retrieving the mail, the book arrived in our mail box. As soon as I unwrapped it in the street, I was reading it standing on the sidewalk waiting for Lucky to “do her business.” I was drawn like I have not been drawn by a book for a long time. First drawn by my longing to have a father’s advice on the writing life. Then stung by not having my Dad most of my life to guide and encourage me. Then grateful for the book as if the Lord was handing it to me. Joyful over the aspect of being touched and led. Now chewing on the bones and meat of this tome.

The quote his daughter chose in the forward by Rainer Maria Rilke, from Letters to a Young Poet, sum up my struggle.

“Things aren’t all so tangible and sayable as people would usually have us to believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered and more unsayable than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life.”

Rainer Marie Rilke

Unsayable. Holy things are immediately diminished when we try to put words around them. Poignant becomes less than when I try to pin it down with words. Struggling with how to relate this to you, the reader, I was reminded that often the Lord has asked me just to be His lily leaf, stand and tip.

So my walk with God is just percolating with these refinements and struggles to express myself. Finally, I have decided to work my way through my journals (and there a TON of journals, maybe 30 or more) and poetry to try to relate my story with God to you. Mostly in chronological order, but am certain there will be times when I jump out of order and just tell the story.

He calls me to stand and tip. 

My prayer on October 1, 2021. Father, You led me to this. How do I express in the blog these unsayable things in my own life that have been steeped in Your Presence, soaked with Your love, dripping with Your power especially in my weakness? Help me find the words from my experiences and through the journals and poetry to encourage others, show the way to Your heart, reveal my soul, uncover my hidden-ness and show forth Your glory … Your Presence here and now. Only You can guide me in this. My methods have been faltering. I want to do Your work and Your call. Guide me, O Thou, great Jehovah.” It is almost too difficult to even write that prayer. I am not asking for help for my own glory, but so that You may be glorified and lifted up.

I will stand at my watchpost,
    and station myself on the rampart;
I will keep watch to see what he will say to me,
    and what he will answer concerning my complaint.
Then the Lord answered me and said:
Write the vision;
    make it plain on tablets,
    so that a runner may read it.
For there is still a vision for the appointed time;
    it speaks of the end, and does not lie.
If it seems to tarry, wait for it;
    it will surely come, it will not delay.
Look at the proud!
    Their spirit is not right in them,
    but the righteous live by their faith
.

Habakkuk 2:1-4

Stand and Tip

Not certain the exact date I wrote this, but it was before 1990. The last two lines were added after the first writing at a time when I was trying too hard. God and I have a joke. I say, “Lord, I’m trying!” And He says, “Yes, dear, very trying.” Then I rest in His presence and try to allow Him to work in and through me.

Perhaps I Could Ask You Just to Stand and Tip? ©1990       Molly Lin Dutina 

Lily pads at the pond		
Grow on stalky stems
Leaves unfold an opened palm
Cupped at center point
Summer shower starts to drop
Mercurial glistening spheres
Gathering in the center spot
‘til bulbous weight smears silver drops
Into glistening globs
And tips the leaves so full
To pour their contents overboard
And rising from the spill
Stately shielded lily-hands
Begin the cycle once more

Keep my stem flexible, Lord
My hands open and cupped
Eager to receive Your all
Questioning not Your skill
Only trusting the power of Your love
To melt my rigid will

Drench me Lord 
In Your shower of love
Let me gather and drink my fill
Then spill over on those around
And rise to await Your will

Send water of Your Spirit
To tip me over, pour me out
Then wash over me once again
Fresh cleansing by Holy Words

Shine Your light through
This enshrouding mist
Color me with covenant this:
Abiding presence and constant love,
Indwelling grace that conquers sin
Transfigured rigid I
Yielded and bent
In Your service	
Spilling forth rivers of living water	
And giving rest to croaky voiced frogs	  
Who, when Spirit-kissed,
Become priests and kings	
Singing their praises to You.

Perhaps You ask me just to be Your lily leaf
Stand and tip

Yield to His calling. He has your best in mind!

Oil Pumps

When we traveled to Mount Vernon, Ohio I was noticing again the contrast between Texas size and Ohio size oil operation sizes. I grew up being fascinated by the oil pumps throughout Pennsylvania and to a lesser extent Ohio.

I previously wrote https://wordpress.com/post/treasures-in-plain-sight.org/1706 discussing oil pumps from Odessa to Dallas. When we recently traveled through Ohio I was remembering the giant “grasshopper” pumps of Texas compared to Ohio.

Ohio pump taller than the corn
Ohio pump shorter than the trees
Ohio pump much shorter than the trees

Compared to Texas:

r m dutina – compare to power pole

And speaking of collection tanks?

Large Ohio congregation
Likely private Ohio tank

Then there was a rainy day in Texas.

r m dutina

So there were likely some errors in my reporting. Maybe the white tanks above were in an oil processing center? I was mostly trying to compare and contrast the size of operations.

In light of the recent oil spill in California, perhaps little pumps in Ohio and Pennsylvania are best?

Sunflower Tales

When we traveled the Dakotas searching for Sunflowers we found them! Someone recently asked how much they charged us to go to the sunflower fields. We simply pulled off the beaten path onto farm roads and took photos. Evidently they raise the bulk of the sunflower seed used in America for bird feed.

In the United States, North Dakota, South Dakota and Minnesota are the top producers of sunflower seeds.

“When the modern sunflower plant made its way back to North America it came to the United States by way of Canada, down through North Dakota and Minnesota. The central and western regions of North and South Dakota and the far western counties of Minnesota are still the biggest producers of sunflower seeds for the U.S..” says thepoolgardener.com/where-do-sunflower-seeds-come-from/

She stands all by herself, surrounded by hoards of relatives, yellow as far as the eye can see. The upper leaf over the edge of her petals reminds me of a bashful child.

Even the hill behind the treeline is yellow with sunflowers!

These are not the “Mammoth” variety grown for height. These are grown for seed production.

Guess this fellow did not get the memo about following the sun!

If you have questions about sunflower seed uses and production here is a great resource! https://www.sunflowernsa.com/all-about/faq/#32

Often the sunflower fields are also lined with beehive boxes. Can you say sunflower honey?

photo by r m dutina

My neighbor Carol planted a few in her yard. I delighted to see them on a walk since this is the first year we have not planted any since we began owning property!

Our sunflower seed feeder hanging just off the new deck has now attracted Cardinals, Titmice (seem bravest of all), Nuthatch, Sparrows, Junco, Chickadees, Carolina Wren, and likely others when I was not watching! So delighted to be allowed to feed them again without fear of disease. They amuse us greatly.

 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Matthew 6:28-34

And one more bit of sunflower type humor that Bob found in the New Yorker magazine, covid pandemic humor:

Lizzie

First Grandgirl and one of the loves of my life! Born on our wedding anniversary no less! One old photo of the first week or so after she was born looks as if we stuck peas in your mouth – which we did not!

Out of focus, but priceless to me!

Best puddle jumper I knew. I taught her in one corner of the garden and then moved throughout the Ohio clay yard after a hard rain!

Once she used her doctor set to examine her sister thoroughly. I mean, what good is a doctor set if you can’t use it on a live, stationary patient?

photo by r m dutina

Trying to piece together this blog entry I am having to remember where these photos were in the old house and try to find them now. Yikes! what a challenge this is!

Grammy (me) reflected in door
photo by r m dutina I think
Sorting and playing with Lilac flowers one spring

Oh my dear, so many sweet memories!

High School Graduate.

High School graduation

Well, here she is last year on her first day of college!

And just this week she turned twenty. How did THAT happen?!?

Happy Birthday, Elizabeth Celesta Ra, my String Bean.

But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him,

    and His righteousness to children’s children

Psalm 103:17

Threes

Have you noticed things in your life that occur in certain numbers? I seem to have many 3’s.

My favorite Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Three Grandkids: Lizzie, Ellie and Rowan.

This is the third house we have owned and likely our last.

I have lived in California, Kentucky and Ohio.

Many more than three favorite flowers! If I had to choose only 3 they would be carnations (garden variety or commercial as long as they have that spicy fragrance), peach colored roses (again preferably with fragrance) and King Alfred daffodils, (only yellow large trumpets).

Loves of my life: Robert Milan, Emily Kathryn and Jeffrey Robert.

What is your recurring number?

May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

2 Corinthians 13:14

One Thing Missing

One thing remains missing. I owned a small yellow paper sign that said YIELD. This past decade it hung on my office closet wall. I saw it more often than you might think.

Since the move we have not been able to locate it. There is always the chance that I threw it out, but I find that highly unlikely.

Over the years I have tried to learn this concept in relation to my Lord. “Constant, yielded, joyful, peaceful obedience to the Almighty.”

"Shine Your light through
This enshrouding mist
Color me with covenant this:
Abiding presence and constant love,
Indwelling grace that conquers sin
Transfigured rigid I
Yielded and bent
In Your service" - 1990
"Mighty love overwhelming every fear
	If I yet yield
	Turn once again
	Open my hands
	Release it all to You.

By grand design and holy
You rearrange the pieces
Until components black emerge
Glistening silver, white, bejeweled
Beyond my hopes.

So here in wonder
Again I open my hands
That You may have Your perfect way
In this one yielded woman." -2011
"Refresh, renew, anoint, empower
immerse, drench, wash in Living Water
alive to God
yielded to Holy Spirit." - 2014
"The clay is very still,
not quaking with expectation, but yielded.
Not disappointed with clay life
just allowing the Potter to create
and re-create, shape, mold, spin" - 2012

So as I ponder where that little paper sign has been placed, it hit me (like a 2 x 4 in the head!) I am suddenly THINKING about YIELD more than usual. I even went on-line to try to replace that old one with a new one. I was dissatisfied because new ones are red and white whereas my old one was yellow and black.

Surprise, Molly Lin, there is a new yield that applies to your life now! A cardboard red and white sign would fit with international road signs.

YIELD in Irish Gaelic

Instead of merely thinking about YIELD it is time to yield to the days and times as they unfold. Yes, I commit Monday and Tuesday mornings to writing. Obviously, as noted yesterday, that does not always work out.

Waking the writing muse can be beyond my powers. One often just has to wait until the stirring comes. I can, however, determine to try to yield to my Lord as I am moved to love, be gentled by God’s love, stir to obedience in each hour, make notes (even inside black and white paper bags) and show up for life.

Perhaps the loss of that little paper sign has been more powerful than frustration and aggravation. It has renewed in me a sense of obedience, drawing me back to the most important thing, the one thing.

1978 Humor and Hymn

 The Lord answered her, `Martha, Martha, you are worrying. You are troubled about many things.

Only one thing is needed. What Mary has chosen is good. And it will not be taken away from her.’

Luke 10:41-42 Worldwide English

Be certain to choose well!

Stuck Stymied

I was pondering what to write for this weeks’ blog entries. I realized I was stuck. We went to a craft store in New Richmond called The Collective: Local Handcrafted Goods. I only purchased one small item. As we drove away I told Bob that seeing the creativity of all those artists (over 120 of them) I was stirred within me to capture my own creativity.

Then I remembered the “Just Look” observation from the morning. I grabbed the shopping bag from the store that was lined with white paper and began recording my “Just Look.”

21-9-20 One Leaf Falling ©Molly Lin Dutina
I saw a leaf fall
From high in the tree
It drifted down, down,
Down 85 feet
Reminding me soon
There will be millions of leaves on the ground
Wind and rain beating
Forcing them to the ground
Naked wood branches
Bearing testimony to
Endurance for decades

 

I was relieved and delighted to awaken that muse again. Then Monday morning came and writing time arrived. I typed up the poem from inside the paper bag. I hit a stone wall. Just nothing. no ideas to put on the computer screen. Nothing to share with you.

Except, as I stepped away from the computer and the day unfolded I realized I am just like that leaf in some ways. Yes, the seasons change and the difference in sunlight and water to the leaves make changes for the trees to drop them. We have moved. I have told people that for the most part we are unpacked.

Over this past weekend some things occurred that help me feel more settled. Bob got the bedroom TV hung on the wall, thus freeing up the surface of my bookcase for other items. He also hung my curio cabinets. I have a collection of miniature items from childhood into adulthood. I had not unpacked those as the cabinets need to be in place.

All Three
So many memories in one box!
And yes, there is room for a few more if they are tiny.

I had no idea how much I desired to see those items. There are still many drawers to be emptied and reorganization to take place after the move. With those tiny items up on the wall in cases I really do feel like I am home here. For me, those little things ‘bear testimony to endurance for decades.’

Who knew?