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Linda Roorda

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Blog Entries posted by Linda Roorda

  1. Linda Roorda
    To whom do I owe allegiance?  In whom do I put my trust?  To whom do I give credence?  Important words to contemplate for each of us in this world of conflict and hypocrisy.  Because, when we are individually or collectively silenced or canceled for our beliefs or opinions, for the sake of those who consider themselves to be “in the know” about any and all subjects, we, as a society, have ceased to listen and to understand.  We have lost our empathy, compassion and love, the ability to agree to disagree, but most of all we’ve lost true tolerance, loyalty and respect… allegiance.
    I’ve said it many times before… we are each created differently.  Our kids often heard that phrase from us as we rejected comparisons and envy around us.  We are each unique, to be respected and loved for who we are… even in our infirmities.  Just as every snowflake, every leaf, and every creature in the world of nature is different yet similar, even imperfect, so are we.  Not just physically and outwardly, but also emotionally in our thinking and reacting.  We each have different life experiences that contribute to making us who we are today, and why we think the way we do. 
    Have we not read or heard of the Golden Rule, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”? (Matthew 7:12, Luke 6:31)  In other words, haven’t we been told to put ourselves in someone else’s “shoes” to understand their life and perspective?  In so doing, we understand just a little better what their life is like, enabling us to show empathy, compassion, true tolerance, and loving kindness. And that exemplifies Jesus’ words in Mark 12:29-31: “the most important is this: …Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.  The second is this:  Love your neighbor as yourself.”
    With trust placed in our God, He keeps us from stumbling.  He gives us the ability to love and respect those with whom we disagree.  But when we take our eyes off Him and His wisdom and we stumble, He is right there to help pick us up to start over again.  He welcomes us back, just like the little lost lamb He sought and brought back from danger.  For all that our great God does for each of us, I, we, owe Him our thanks, our praise, and our adoration… our allegiance. 
    To Whom Allegiance…
    Of Christ and His love
    Linda A. Roorda 
    Suppose my voice were threatened to silence
    By those opposing my faith in Almighty.
    To whom allegiance, the question I’d face
    Would I still speak or in fear acquiesce?
     
    Some think it’s fair to believe at will
    Whatever goes, whatever seems right,
    To each his own, a designer faith
    That which best fits their values perceived.
     
    I’d hope my faith through testing and trial
    Would stand ever firm in the Lord of my soul.
    For the great I Am with mercy and grace
    Will gently guide when His face I seek.
     
    His wisdom my source for dealing with life,
    Yet often my search still draws me away.
    Why do I think my knowledge is best,
    And why do I fight His hands on the reins?
     
    Time and again He’s proven to me
    He truly knows best, His way unequaled.
    He pulls me up short to rein in my will
    With reassurance as He directs my steps.
     
    My voice will then share the Truth it has known
    A comforting Peace in the storms of life
    A gentle holding in the palm of His hand
    A vision of Light ever guiding my path.
    ~~
  2. Linda Roorda
    Though my poem and blog below were written over a year ago, it seems fitting for what we are all facing today in the war that Russia has brought to Ukraine, threatening to bring to other nations. Knowing that Ed’s and my niece, Rebecca and family, had been missionaries to Kyiv for several years in the past, with their dear friends among the entire nation now in harm’s way, we are, like everyone else, brought closer to the dire situation as we watch and hear the news updates… continuing our prayers for the entire nation of Ukraine, for their success in pushing back and defeating this evil and irrational enemy.
    There’s so much sadness around us… so many tragedies with loss of life to accidents, disease, natural disasters, wars and rumors of wars… so many murders of innocents, and abuse of innocence… so much canceling, injustice, poverty, and despair… and so much loss during this Covid-19 world-wide pandemic.
    We grieve and we mourn.  As the lives of so many are turned upside down and come to a screeching halt, life goes merrily on its way for others. Yet, while we share the heavy burdens in our hearts, and assist in any way we can to restore the broken, the demands of our busy lives simply move us forward through the unrelenting sands of time… in our protected havens, safe from disaster.
    Oh, that I would see through the eyes of the Lord to be a blessing and bring comfort to those around me!  “Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.” (I Corinthians 14:5)  Since we each have unique and individual abilities, we are able to reach out in our own special way… as we become God’s emissaries to a world in need. 
    Not all of us sense the call to go to the ends of the world to help the hurting.  Instead, there are many ways we can help our neighbors, locally and around the world… physically, emotionally, or financially.  We can each ask ourselves what can I do…  how can I help… as we respond to the gentle nudging in our heart from our loving God.
    Which reminds me of Jesus’ words in Matthew 25:35-40:  “35 ‘For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
    37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
    40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” 
    Oh, That I Would See…
    Linda A. Roorda 
    Oh, that I would see the world through Your eyes
    This broken world with its tears and fears
    Tears for the pain unleashed by life…
    Yet tears of joy when love conquers all.
     
    Tears for injustice, unfairness in life
    Cries for lost souls in depths of despair
    Tears for the hurting as storms rip apart
    The ties that once knit loving hearts as one.
     
    Tears for the needy, the shamed and the shunned
    Cries for the lost walking streets of filth
    Tears for the lonely, peering out in fear
    And those without hope, whose tears no longer flow.
     
    Tears for the hungry, the bullied and abused
    Those dying alone who long for our touch,
    As those who offer selfless acts to assist
    Are those for whom there is greater reward.
     
    For within our hearts compassion yet stirs
    As we become His hands and feet
    To carry the love of the Servant of all
    And wipe away tears we see through His eyes.
    ~~
     
  3. Linda Roorda
    I have to admit… it sure would be nice to win the big lottery!  Life would be so much easier with all that money, wouldn’t it? ‘Course, ya gotta play to win!  And since I don’t play, there’s no chance I’ll ever go home a millionaire… ah well, it was a fun thought while it lasted!
    But watching the newly “rich and famous” with their instant money, I also wonder how happy many of them really are.  They seem to have it all… from gorgeous clothes to the most beautiful mansions. But, on the flip side, do they ever ask if that’s all there is to life?
    When you open the door to peek in on their private lives, how often don’t we find them less than the seemingly perfect and shining example we think they are?  Don’t get me wrong, some know how to handle their wealth with an envied wisdom.  On the other hand, too many blow through their new wealth by not having the inner strength to handle what comes their way… while many of those who have truly earned their way up the ladder of success and wealth usually seem to know the secret to handling their situation wisely.
    And I can’t help but wonder, do any of them ask if that’s all there is to life… for I have a suspicion that many “rich and famous” have an ache, a pain, deep in their heart... a void needing to be filled.  Too often, the news contains stories of their drug addiction, wild parties and debauchery… only to leave us quietly asking the words of the hit song written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller in the 1960s, and made famous by Peggy Lee, “Is that all there is?” As Pastor Greg Laurie wrote in “Lennon, Dylan, Alice, & Jesus, “Contrary to popular belief, adversity is not the greatest test of character; overnight success is.”
    Because that’s not all there is to life...  Money is not the answer to all our troubles, and the “rich and famous” will tell you that if they’re honest.  Unfortunately, some learn the hard way there’s truth in the old biblical saying that “…the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.”  (I Timothy 6:10)  With this thought, I was reminded of the biblical book of Ecclesiastes, believed by many scholars to have been penned by the wisest man who ever lived, King Solomon: “Whoever loves money never has money enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with his income…” (Eccl.5:10)  Later, Solomon reflects that “When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider: God has made the one as well as the other…” (Eccl.7:14)  Note that it’s the “love” of money that can taint a life.  For, with the blessing of wealth, can also come the ability to give… a giving to bless others out of love.
    Though we may look upon the “rich and famous” as enjoying the epitome of happiness, we often see those in front of us who struggle from day to day, barely getting by, as the ones who exude true joy.  There are those who live a life of unending pain, emotional and/or physical, yet they share a heart of empathy.  There are those with hurts so deep no one knows the true depth of their hidden pain, but they have love to spare.  And, there are those who cover their pain with a shield of protective bullying, alcohol and drugs, while others cover their pain with the smile of brave endurance.  And we wonder about the difference.
    As much as we might wish it so, a life of riches, free of pain and sorrow, was never promised to any of us.  By learning to accept our trials, we grow through perseverance into wisdom, understanding, and joy… like the wisdom found in Hebrews 13:5 – “Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be satisfied with what you have.  God has said, ‘I will never leave you; I will never forsake you.’” And, in understanding those words, we realize that “…the testing of [our] faith develops perseverance.” (James 1:2-3) But, oh how hard the journey can be at times!
    In all honesty, life’s difficulties mature us into wisdom as we experience pain, loss, and discomfort… over time, not overnight… if we let them. It’s not by longing for the world’s many riches, but by being content in our life’s situation that we find happiness.  Unlike Job’s friends who castigated him for his supposed sins having been the cause of his great suffering, it is in the depth of our struggles that we often learn who our true friends are.  And, we also find out where our real strength lies… in God. 
    For it’s as we learn to walk with God at our side during life’s ups and downs that we find ourselves trusting all the more the One who knows the purpose and reason behind our trials.  Then, as we come to understand why He allows us to travel the darkened road, we gain insight into issues hidden within our own life, and acquire an empathy to feel for, and share with, those who might be traveling a similar bumpy road.
    Be a blessing to others through your difficulty!  And praise God for the blessings He’s given you along your difficult road! 
    Behind the Door
    Linda A. Roorda 
    Behind the door of our curtained lives
    Lies the dark ache of a hurting soul
    So often hidden as though behind walls
    Feeling as if the world doesn’t care.
     
    The life of pain has many faces
    Some openly brave, some hidden and sad
    But all are covers for truth in the depths
    Which we conceal behind words and smiles.
     
    Yet there are those seemingly untouched
    Who exude the ease of life without pain
    All sun and fun, or so it would seem
    But what have they learned of perseverance.
     
    Do not envy what appears so grand
    Since hidden lessons don’t emerge from glam
    Many are they who follow such dreams
    Only to find silken paths want more.
     
    For in trials deep do our hearts learn truth
    By laying open the heart, mind and soul
    Riches are found as depths are plumbed
    Knowing persistence leads to wisdom’s gold.
    ~~
  4. Linda Roorda
    During the season of Lent, we tend to reflect a little more intently on Christ's mission and sacrifice for us.  Since He gave so much in giving His life to redeem us, it seems we could easily give up even a little for Him. Though the traditional idea of giving up something for Lent has not been something I have done, my friend and distant cousin, Carolyn, got me thinking more deeply about the season of Lent.
    A few years ago, as Carolyn read her “Catholic Weekly” magazine with its daily devotionals, she shared with me a Lenten focus on the Roman Catholic perspective of the “seven deadly sins.”  These sins can lead us away from God… away from that close relationship we long for.  Unfortunately, I/we often exhibit the pride of self, a greed as we exclude others to serve ourselves first, jealousy in coveting that which is not ours, wrath or inappropriate anger, sloth or laziness when we could and should do something constructive, lust of a sinful nature, and gluttony or self-indulgence in so many ways.  Yet, we know that each one of these sins is absolutely forgiven on confession and repentance to God; and, under His tender mercy and grace, our heart is renewed as we follow in His footsteps.
    In synchrony with the above, we also recall that Solomon wrote in Proverbs 6:16-19, “there are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies, and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.”
    Some also say there is an unpardonable sin, the blasphemy against God and His Holy Spirit.  As Jesus was performing miracles and driving out demons, the religious leaders’ unpardonable sin was in claiming Jesus’ power came from the devil rather than acknowledging He had the power because He truly was the Son of God. (Mark 3:28-30, Matthew 12:31-32)
    If we turn away from the Spirit’s convicting promptings that what we’ve done is wrong, we may harden our heart, turn our back on God and not repent, willfully continuing in sin.  Yet, upon conviction of our sin, confession and repentance, we can be assured of God’s welcoming arms and loving forgiveness… for nothing can separate us from the overwhelming love of God.  (Romans 8:34-39)  May I always be convicted of my sins, confess them, and ask for forgiveness from God and those I’ve offended.
    As I continued to ponder the above Lenten theme mentioned by Carolyn, and the variety of themes from many churches for spiritual renewal each year, my own failings came to mind.  Sadly, it can be said that I/we betray our Lord’s love in so many ways because we are far from perfect.  Yet, as a reminder of Christ’s love for us, and living within us, there are familiar virtues we can strive for.  As the Holy Spirit leads, guides and helps us live out our faith, we exude “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23)  These fruits evidence the Holy Spirit’s work within us, as God transforms us to be more like His Son. (II Corinthians 3:18)  Because He loved us first (I John 4:19), even in our sinfulness, we can live a grateful life of holiness, bringing honor and glory and praise to God for all that He has done… because to this we were created. (Revelation 4:11)
    We can demonstrate our love for God and those around us with our faith or reliance, hope or trust, and charity or love as shown in I Corinthians 13, the “love chapter”.  We can share this joy and peace in living out our faith in God by showing such loving kindness in our interactions with others.  With courage and wisdom from the Lord we can face those difficult painful trials.  Just as God has granted mercy and grace to us, we can show the same to others, forgiving them as we’ve been forgiven, acting with moderation and self-control, with honesty and integrity in our dealings.  Against these virtues there would be no complaint as we respect others, bring glory to God, and become a beacon to point others to Christ… not only during Lent, but always.
    Though our Lord was mocked and betrayed as He walked this earth, may we never forget the depth of all He suffered in His great love for us despite knowing our wayward ways.  For it’s only thru Jesus’ shed blood that we have forgiveness and reconciliation with God.  As I prepare myself spiritually this Lenten season to focus more intently on Christ’s sacrifice and resurrection, Carolyn’s words echo the thoughts of my heart when she wrote that “these are the things we could all reflect on during the 40 days before Holy Easter, and maybe change our hearts and minds to reflect more of Christ’s love.” 
    From Betrayal to Beacon
    Linda A. Roorda
    There is One who felt the heavy hand
    The slap to the face, the mocking abuse
    The glib excuses, lies begetting lies
    Betrayal by friends, abandoned in need.
    ~
    For there was a man who took this and more
    A man who never responded in wrath,
    The Son of God, who sought us in love
    Who lay down His life that we might live.
    ~
    The Light of this world, a rejected man
    Scorned by His own and scoffed by scholars.
    Still there were those who pondered His words
    Words that were new and words that gave hope.
    ~
    Bless those who misuse, pray for their soul
    Just as our Lord, the servant of all,
    Dwelt here in peace and drew us to His side
    To offer us hope with redemption’s gift.
    ~
    Be that beacon to a world needing hope
    Bring peace and comfort with welcoming arms.
    Offer your love to the soul in pain
    Become a servant to meet the needs.
    ~~
    Initially published on The Network,
    the website of the Christian Reformed Church of North America
    2017
     
  5. Linda Roorda
    Easter is always a special time of year.  It reminds us that warmer weather is arriving after the long winter’s cold, and spring is beginning to show its colors!  It’s a time of renewal as new plant life exemplifies rebirth by poking through the covering of a late snow, leaf buds begin to swell and emerge from their long winter’s sleep, and early flowers showcase their gorgeous colorful blooms. 
    It’s a special time for children as they have fun decorating eggs, enjoy the search for hidden eggs to fill their baskets, and savor scrumptious chocolate treats and marshmallow peeps.  I also remember a time, way too many years ago, when it was fashionable to buy a new spring dress and white bonnet for Easter service at church.  When the Covid pandemic kept many of us from attending church, I drew Easter chalk art on our sidewalk to celebrate the joy of Resurrection Day.  And I also admire the Polish/Ukrainian Pysanky a friend makes – gorgeous delicate painted artwork on eggs.
    But, there’s so much more to the meaning of Easter.  Each year we are reminded again of all that took place about 2000 years ago.  That precious little baby whose birth we celebrated just a few short months ago grew up with a purpose.  As my husband’s niece, Rebecca, once said, “That God would become a man and understand our struggles on earth just blows my mind.  [That’s] true humble love.”
    Yet, in contemplating God’s love, I sometimes find it hard to think of such unconditional love for me...  After all, what about that little thing I did?  Was it really wrong?  Maybe I can just excuse it away.  Will my family, my friends, or even God, forgive me for certain errors I’ve made?  I know He has, as have friends to whom I’ve apologized over the years.  How could God still love me when my temper flares… again…?  What does He see in me?  I can never measure up…  Well, actually, none of us can.  We all sin and fall short of the glory of God… “for the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 3:23) So, why would God care so much for me… for each of us? Because of one man, Jesus…
    That one man, perfect in all he did or said, willingly took my unworthiness, my shame, my heavy load of sin, and endured the penalty of the cross, just for my soul, is overwhelming.  I cannot repay such a debt!  Wait… I don’t have to? My debt is paid in full? Because Jesus gave His life that I might live, all I have to do is believe and accept His free gift? Jesus really loves us that much? Yes! That’s the grace and mercy of God’s love… it does not define and cancel us for our failures, but rather shows that we are each created unique by God, worthy of His love and forgiveness, redeemed through Christ from a life of sin. (Colossians 2:13-14) Now that’s unconditional love… as He blesses us with His wisdom, courage, compassion and peace.
    I am reminded of Johnny Hart’s “B.C.” cartoon column.  He was a good friend of my husband’s Uncle Mart and Aunt Tilly and their family in Ninevah, NY, members of the same Presbyterian Church where Hart also taught Sunday School.  How succinctly Hart put the thoughts of this holy week into perspective in his comic strip:
    “I hate the term, Good Friday.” 
    “Why?” 
    “My Lord was hanged on a tree that day.” 
    “If you were going to be hanged on that day and he volunteered to take your place, how would you feel?”  “Good.” 
    “Have a nice day!”  [Johnny Hart in B.C., 04/09/03]
    Which brings to mind a similar thought-provoking cartoon I had also saved years ago from “The Wizard of ID”, a joint venture written by Johnny Hart and Brant Parker, illustrated by Parker:  
    Friar:  “Happy Good Friday Sire!”
    To which the king grumbles:  “What’s so good about it?”
    The friar replies:  “It took an act of God, but they finally found somebody willing to die for you.” ...with  the king left standing there speechless.  [Copyright Creators Syndicate Inc.]
    But, after the brutality and agony of Jesus’ crucifixion and death, His friends are devastated. All their hopes and expectations for Jesus as the earthly king of the Jewish nation appear to be dashed.
    Yet, envision with me the beauty of an early morning sunrise.  Birds are beginning to sing as the sun’s first rays appear.  The dew has settled gently on the flowers in the garden as they open their buds to the sun’s warmth.  According to Mark 16:1-5, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome quietly arrive at the tomb just after sunrise on the first day of the week.  They carry spices with them to anoint their beloved friend and teacher, Jesus, who had died a horribly painful death on a cross… only to see in astonishment that the great stone has been rolled away from the entrance.  Upon entering, they see the tomb is empty.  Already sad, now they are also afraid. 
    Suddenly, two men stand before them in brilliant light.  Knowing their fear, an angel speaks gently to reassure them.  “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified.  He is not here; he has risen just as he said.  Come and see the place where he lay.  Then go quickly and tell his disciples…” (Matthew 28:5-6)  Trembling and bewildered, the women run from the tomb.  Despite their confusion and fear they run to tell the disciples.  Peter and John arrive after hearing Mary Magdalene’s report, look into the empty tomb, and also see only the burial cloths which lay neatly in place. (John 20:3-8)  They wondered and believed.
    As the others return to their homes, Mary Magdalene stays at the empty tomb, crying, missing her Lord.  As a man she presumed to be the gardener speaks to her, she asks where he put him.  On hearing the man speak her name, “Mary,” she recognizes him as her dear friend, Jesus, and calls out, “Rabboni!” (Teacher).  After their conversation, Mary hurries to share the good news with the disciples that she “has seen the Lord!” (John 20:10-18)  Jesus truly is alive!
    And to think that with a simple child-like faith in Jesus who willingly gave His life for me… for each of us… He will live in our hearts now and for eternity. As John 3:16 reminds us, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him, should not perish but have everlasting life.”
    What pain there is to realize that I fall short of His tender love every day.  But what joy in humbling myself to recognize and confess my sins, and to ask for forgiveness for the errors of my ways from those around me and from my Lord, and then to feel the forgiveness… as the Lord’s love and peace with mercy and grace surround my soul.  That’s what Easter is all about…  God’s great love!  Hallelujah!!  Christ is risen!!  What a Savior!!  
    Besides… I love you!
    Linda A. Roorda
    Who am I?  My soul doth ask.
    What am I worth? And to whom?
    I see only failure as I take the reins
    And do not give my Lord the lead.
    ~
    How can you love the me who I am
    When all I see are my struggles?
    Yet, Lord, You do love even me
    In ways that I cannot comprehend.
    ~
    To sight unseen You guide my path
    Ever at my side, gently calling.
    And as you wrap loving arms around
    You cover my soul with tender mercies.
    ~
    For You opened wide Your arms on a cross
    Giving Your life that I might live,
    And in return You ask for my love
    With all my heart, my soul and my mind.
    ~
    But you didn’t stay within that tomb
    For on day three You rose from the dead.
    Seen by many, in the hearts of more,
    Eternity waits Your Gift of Love.
    ~
    Where once I felt the crashing waves
    That overwhelm and burden my soul,
    Now peace and joy have filled my heart
    With love to share for those on my path.
    ~
    Your presence surrounds me with Your peace
    As You offer grace to light my way,
    And then I hear You whisper soft
    Besides… I love you!
    ~
    A Happy and Blessed Easter to all!
    ~~
  6. Linda Roorda
    As many know, my husband was readmitted to the hospital Thursday.  Overlapping congestive heart failure, diabetes, and kidney failure walk a fine line together. Not sure of the immediate future, as none of us do, we watch the world go merrily on its way as we grapple with life’s unknowns, frustrations and limitations, all the while knowing God is here with us and has a plan. His will may not be the plan we want, but as we go to Him, He gently wraps his arms around us, holding us up, giving us strength to face what is meant to be, with His love… I actually needed to be reminded of that and found this poem and blog I’d written in 2017, unpublished previously, so fitting for so many of us today… especially in the heartache of sudden losses like those who are suffering amidst Kentucky’s devastating flash flooding, as we collectively mourn with the families who lost loved ones and everything they owned.  May you each be blessed and comforted today with our God’s great love within your own difficulties.   
    Life can be so hard and painful, difficult and unfair.  We may face debilitating fears of the unknown on hearing a difficult medical diagnosis.  I remember the shock of hearing I had breast cancer.  My mind shut down.  I did not hear much of what else my doctor had to say.  The fears of the unknown were very real, as were my tears.  And I know many of you, my dear friends and readers, have faced similar situations.
    You may feel deep pain and grief in the loss of a loved one before their time… like the losses of our first two preborn infants - Heather at 6 months, believed to be twins who did not separate, followed by a second baby at 3-1/2 months, and then the loss of our daughter Jennifer at 25 years, a month after she graduated with her Master’s in school psychology, leaving behind her husband of 3 years. 
    You may carry the heart wounds of betrayal and abuse, suffer the destruction of a family home or business, or the loss of everything around you in devastating natural disasters, and more.  You know all too well your own trials…  There is so much we don’t understand in this life.
    Yet, amidst all the pain and grief we endure, we can rise from the ashes of devastating losses to a joyous new beginning.  For God is with us, even on those days when we feel abandoned and alone, like no one cares.  Even then, He is there.  He never leaves us.  Perhaps He seems silent, but He is truly never far away.  His arms are always open, ready to hold us, perhaps even to carry us for a while.  But He never leaves us nor abandons us.
    We may not understand the why of our pain while walking the difficult road… but the Lord has His reasons for allowing us to take that journey.  Perhaps this is what it takes to draw us back to His side, to understand His love, to know forgiveness with His lavish gift of mercy and grace through Jesus’ sacrifice, and to know His love and peace beyond understanding. 
    In John 16:33, Jesus told his disciples, and us, that “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world.”  Yet even the strongest among us faces difficult days with doubts about so many things… and we contemplate…
    Joshua was told by God as he prepared the Israelites to enter the promised land:  “6. Be strong and courageous, because you will lead these people to inherit the land I swore to their forefathers to give them… 9. Have I not commanded you?  Be strong and courageous.  Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”  They had lived for so many years and generations as slaves to the Egyptians and their brutality.  Now, after 40 years of wandering in the wilderness under Moses, after facing many difficulties where God showed His loving hand in providing and caring for them, there was still fear of the unknown among the people.
    Again, hundreds of years later, the prophet Isaiah also shared God’s words with the Israelites, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10-13 NIV)  Words we can also hold onto in our hearts in this every-day journey of life.
    One of my favorite verses is Peter’s words reminding us to “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” (I Peter 5:7 NIV)  And yet, I fall short in bringing ALL my cares and concerns to God, and I stand guilty of fretting and fearing.
    Again, Isaiah wrote down precious words God gave him to encourage us all during trials:  “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” (Isaiah 43:2 ESV)
    Finally, as the writer of Hebrews 13:5 reminds us, “Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’” 
    Yes, I have to keep reminding myself of the words of God written well before our time.  These verses show what great love our Lord has for us.  He knows and understands the daily trials of life we face… the losses and pains we suffer…  Though we may consider our losses to be ashes of our treasures, ultimately God will give us joy and peace through the difficulties we face when our hearts are secure in Him… as we hold onto Jesus’ nail-scarred hands and bask in His great love… for "[He will] provide for those who grieve...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes."  (Isaiah 61:3) 
    What rejoicing we share when blessed with His peace!  Never will He leave us, never will He forsake us! 
    Out of the Ashes
    Linda A. Roorda 
    Out of the ashes comes a healing heart
    And from the shattered comes broken beauty
    A miracle born midst languishing hope
    Comes shining light that glows from within.
     
    Though all I can give is a heart of love
    The simplest of gifts with no strings attached
    I give it to you with hands held out
    As You lift me up to stand rejoicing.
     
    From heavenly throne to servant of all
    You humbly came to seek and to save
    Bringing compassion, discerning my heart
    You gazed on my soul to see the real me.
     
    If all my riches were piled up high
    They‘d account for naught when put through the fire
    But where I have stored the Light of the world
    Is where the treasures of my heart are held.
     
    For out of the ashes comes a heart at peace
    Broken and shattered in sorrow and shame
    But born anew by Your sacrifice
    Your love covers all with mercy and grace.
    ~~
    12/06-09/17 
  7. Linda Roorda
    The dawning of each new day brings another opportunity… to make things right… to help someone in need… to express love for your dear ones and all those you meet.  Each morning is a new beginning!
    Each morning brings a blank slate for the new day ahead.  It’s up to you to decide how you’ll respect it.  What will your attitude be?  Will you bring a thankful heart, a joyful heart, a bright and cheerful attitude to all those around you?  Or, will you grumble and complain, and find fault with every little thing that just happens to annoy you?  It’s entirely up to you!
    Before your feet hit the floor, contemplate what might lie ahead and think about who you want to be as you greet the new day.  With a positive attitude, not a victim mindset, meet whatever challenge comes your way.  Remember, it’s a blank slate and it’s up to you to fill it with good.
    Give a gift to everyone around you.  Slow down and savor the gift of time spent with your loved ones.  Let them know how much they mean to you.  Enjoy a few precious moments in the gift of time among friends.  Smile at everyone you meet; let it be a simple way to show that someone cares about them.  That’s my favorite gift to the world! 
    As Mother Teresa once said, “Yesterday is gone.  Tomorrow has not yet come.  We have only today.  Let us begin.”  Yesterday is history.  You say you made a mistake?  Pick yourself up, confess it, apologize for it, and move forward in forgiveness… for that’s no more than our Lord asks of us to be forgiven by Him.
    But, remember that tomorrow is not promised to any of us either.  Don’t borrow trouble for the future by fretting about what you don’t know.  Live in today, and trust the Lord for the day ahead – no matter what you might face.  For, as Psalm 118:24 reminds us, “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” 
    Rejoice and be glad!  Let God’s gift of a new morning become your gift of love to everyone around you! 
    Each Morning New
    Linda A. Roorda
    Each morning new is your love for me
    A thankful heart I give in return
    For who am I without you beside
    As we share this path, and our dreams for life.
     
    I see great love from within your heart
    As your tender gaze recalls that which was
    And as your arms envelope me tight
    All of my soul embraces your gift.
     
    This gift of self, a precious treasure
    Is a glowing light to brighten our walk
    For on this path a vision we share
    As we follow in His guiding steps.
     
    Yet our pathway long with steps that falter
    Is often littered with stones and boulders
    But in the trials your love carries me
    Over and above all that threatens loss.
     
    Nothing we do will change mercy’s grace
    For He promised us a love that’s secure
    And no matter what we ever confront
    True love awaits within open arms.
     
    So is it not true each day brings bright hope
    As hand in hand the future we face
    Finding within a calming peace
    For each morning new is your love for me.
     
  8. Linda Roorda
    June is a month to celebrate not only Father’s Day, but National Children’s Day on the second Sunday.  Children are such a rich blessing … a gift from God, a miracle of life!  Each one is uniquely endowed with a personality and set of talents established by their Creator.  What parent doesn’t perceive soon after each child is born how different he or she is from a sibling?  Their unique and individual beauty shines through as we lovingly help guide them in following the path of their God-given gifts.
    I’m reminded of the verse:  “Train up a child in the way he should go; and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”  (Proverbs 22:6 KJV)  There are different interpretations of Solomon’s wise words; but, for me, it means to work with (to train) each child according to their unique inclinations, tendencies, and abilities.  Our three children were clearly different.  Raised as best we could the same, their unique personalities, likes and dislikes, tendencies, etc. began emerging fairly soon after arriving.  And encouraging their differences helped direct their lives in the way they should go…
    It did not take long to see who enjoyed being in the barn with their Dad at chore time, and who wasn’t fond of the barn and its smells.  One daughter, like her Mom, loved to be in the barn; the other daughter tolerated it, but preferred not to be there.  But, our son took to the barn like a duck to water.  You couldn’t keep him away, quite like his Dad… and Mom! 
    Likewise, when our daughters were given toy tractors, they really weren’t interested.  Just give me a doll, please!  Yet, when our son came along, he naturally took to pushing the tractors and trucks around as soon as he was physically capable, along with making “Vroom! Vroom!” sounds.  No one ever taught him to do that!  He was very happy to acquire a full assortment of tractors and farm equipment to operate his own farm with a big barn built by his maternal great-grandfather.  And now our grandchildren enjoy playing with the barn, animals and equipment.
    Given a homemade Cabbage Patch type boy doll for Christmas one year, I had to chuckle to see our toddler son as he flopped it around to change the clothes, or as he carried it head down, and would gently correct him - while our daughters were so tender and gentle with their dolls right from the start.  But, trust me, that was not indicative of how tender and gentle our son has been in caring for his own son and daughter!  It is equally a pleasure to watch our daughter as she cares for her three sons.
    Beyond the days of childhood though, to watch them shine with their unique personalities and gifts, has been so rewarding!  To even be blessed with children has also given many rewards to us as parents.  There was a time, after two miscarriages, when I feared we would never have children.  And my heart goes out to those who have also lost children, like the loss of our oldest daughter at 25 years, or have not been able to have the family they desire. 
    Being blessed with our three precious little ones, it was a joy to watch them mature into the wonderful adults they have become, as they married, and now bless us with grandchildren.  The roles have come full circle.  We who were once infants ourselves have grown up, matured, raised our own families, matured some more as we grew with our children’s experiences, and now get to relax and enjoy our precious “Grands” while our children repeat the age-old process. 
    I also once feared the empty nest years.  How would I ever manage without my children around?  After our oldest daughter had gone to college, her siblings spent a weekend visiting her. When they came home, I had to admit to Jenn that I actually enjoyed having some time to pursue my own interests.  I said, “Ya know… I think I could get used to having an empty nest…”  And Jenn just smiled that knowing smile of hers.  But, oh, the joys of having watched them fledge to successful lives of their own!  My husband and I have acquired a renewed time for ourselves, time to cherish each other again beyond the busy activities of children in the house.  I delved into hobbies I had once pursued but put on the back burner to raise my family, reclaiming talents God blessed me with. 
    It all reminds me of our first experience watching bluebird nestlings as they fledged years ago.  Little Bird just couldn’t get enough lift under his wings and landed in the grass while his siblings flew up to our roof.  Mama called to encourage him, fed him, and stayed with him.  Having to leave for church, we returned a few hours later to find they were both gone.  I will always believe Little Bird learned to fly despite my husband’s teasing that the cat got him!  Several years ago, I finally found time to write and illustrate this into a story for my grandchildren.  And that’s what it’s all about – lessons in a never-ending circle of life.
    So now we’ve been blessed with a renewed sense of purpose, a new role as Gramps and Grammy to our five young Grands… to be there for them as they grow up... to help them as they strive to reach their full potential… as they become the blessings to others God intends for them to be.   
    The Blessing of Children
    Linda A. Roorda 
    Each child’s a blessing, a gift from above
    A precious bundle to love and to hold.
    The wonder of life with joy unfolding
    Like a blooming rose which opens to sun.
     
    Tiny perfection created by God
    Pure love at first sight, new life to behold
    Dependent for care, nurturing cuddles,
    Looking for parents to guide and protect.
     
    From infant in arms to busy teen years
    Each day awakens with much to be learned.
    Deep roots must be grown, foundation to build
    With dreams given wings in learning to fly.
     
    Yet one day soon the time will have come
    The nest will empty, the house will be still.
    But this is not all, life holds so much more
    For blessings of God do not have an end.
     
    When nestlings have fledged, relationships change
    Each busy seeking new roles to fulfill,
    New needs to be met, new missions to serve
    Each having purpose, established within.
     
    And as the years flow more changes ensue
    Grandchildren arrive with outpouring of love,
    New meaning to life, usefulness restored
    The empty nester has purpose renewed.
    ~
  9. Linda Roorda
    Father’s Day… a time to remember the dads we treasure.  They’ve taught us well in the ways of life.  And I remember a lot about my dad.  In fact, it would be fair to say that I had put him on a pedestal while growing up… not a wise placement for anyone. But it seems he could do anything and everything, a jack-of-all-trades, almost perfect in my little girl eyes.  Though none of us can measure up all the time, there is One who is perfect… who forgives all our failings… our heavenly Father.
    But, yes, there is so much my Dad, Ralph, taught me and my five siblings, including all about the love of Jesus.   As a small child on the farm, I would say, “Jesus is my best friend!”  But, for a time as a teen, I forgot my childhood friend until my Dad reminded me of those words I used to say as a little girl.  Oops! 
    I loved playing board games on Sunday afternoons with my Dad, especially Scrabble. I love the challenge of this game and tend to play aggressively, perhaps because I was in tough competition with my Dad.  Though I won only one game against him over those several years, it was a sweet victory knowing that I’d accomplished the win without his having given me an edge… his way of readying us for the world.
    He taught me honesty was the right way such that in 8th grade English class I chose to write an essay entitled “Honesty Is The Best Policy”, receiving a coveted A.  Actually, I think I may have gotten writing and art abilities from him.  Although he was an exceptional storyteller, perfectly imitating voice and mannerisms of various comedians, I speak best through the written word.  He also had a gift for drawing with his talent for art passed on to me and my son.  He loved trains, especially the old steam engines, having grown up next to the tracks in Clifton, NJ.  I loved watching him as he built a passenger car for his train set, using a tweezers to handle those tiny parts.  I watched him build Packard and Duesenberg model cars, and a German Focke-Wulf plane from W.W.II, taking us with him as he flew it using a remote-control system… until an unexpected gust of wind dove and smashed the plane into the ground.
    As we grew up, we loved hearing Dad tell family stories of his and our childhoods.  He had a gift for telling any story in a humorous unique way, and how I long to hear them all again.  I’d ask him to write them down for posterity, but he never did.  When he drove truck in the 1960s through the 1990s (and later huge tractors for an Iowan farmer), he’d come home with stories from the road.  He shared radio routines by Bill Cosby and southern Cajun comedians, recalling their stories and imitating accents perfectly!  That was way better entertainment than TV any day! 
    I recall a few stories of his time in the Army at Fort Greeley, Alaska (1956-1957), a foreign assignment before official statehood.  From 18 months to 2 years of age, I was too young to remember my six months at Delta Junction with my baby sister.  But I do remember having heard how he, his best buddy Roland, and two other friends found a sunken rowboat.  As it lay not far below the surface of a lake, they pulled it up, cleaned it off, and took it out to fish.  It made for an interesting adventure to say the least – while they took turns fishing, the other three worked hard at bailing to keep the boat afloat! Now that’s dedicated fishermen! 
    Fort Greeley is also where he learned to drive big rigs.  With someone ill, he was asked to take over in the motor pool one night.  Proving he could handle backing up a trailer perfectly, the commanding officer asked where he’d learned to do that since everyone else struggled.  “Backing up a manure spreader, Sir!” was his dutiful reply.  They kept him in the motor pool, where he gained invaluable training for later driving 18-wheelers.
    He also was given a rare promotion because he took the time to thoroughly clean an office coffeepot, a skill learned from his Dutch immigrant mother who had taught him all aspects of housekeeping while growing up, like any good Dutch mother.  With a general visiting Fort Greeley, the coffee-making task was passed off to my Dad as no one wanted to be making coffee for a general!  He didn’t complain but took pains to provide a clean urn for making fresh-brewed coffee… which greatly impressed the general.  When the general asked who made the coffee, the aide who was supposed to have made it “blamed” my Dad.  Instead of the feared reprimand for the typically bad-tasting coffee the office was known for, the general complimented my father on the best cup he’d ever tasted!  Turning to the senior officer, he told him to give my father a promotion!
    When we were younger, he always had time for us. I loved it when we lived in Jersey and he took us fishing at Garret Mountain in Clifton, Lake Hopatcong and Upper Greenwood Lake. It got me out of the city and into nature where I felt at ease.  And, though I could never bring myself to touch those worms (still can’t!), let alone put them on a hook, and never did catch “the big one,” it was the quality time with our Dad that meant so much to us kids.  As a tomboy, I especially enjoyed working outside with my Dad whether it was in the barn learning to care for the animals, in the huge vegetable gardens, or traipsing the fields and woods to hunt rabbit and deer.  That love just naturally transferred to enjoying time spent working alongside my husband in the barn or in the yard, and growing and weeding gardens of my own.
    As we grew older, we teens were often in our own little world yet I still adored my Dad.  He listened and gave sound advice.  I recall the day he didn’t go to work, taking me instead for a drive to discuss a problem I was dealing with.  At times though, I wasn’t ready to listen to him because, as life moved on, his anger took control and he wasn’t always there for us as a family, causing division with his divorce by expecting full support for his side.  No parent in a divorce situation should ever do that their kids.
    But I treasure our renewed relationship later in life.  With apologies for my own errors as a teen, I heard his sadness as I expressed how family dysfunction affected all of us, and he understood my saying I/we all had needed him more than he realized when he was on the road for 2-4 weeks at a time.  I appreciated his compliments on my writing for a local newspaper, my own blogs, publishing genealogy research in a national journal (The New York Genealogical & Biographical Record), and for how well I raised my family and took care of my Mom, even saying he’d never realized all the difficulties I’d faced in my life. Honesty and forgiveness cleared the way for a better relationship with love expressed to both my parents.  God truly takes our most difficult situations, working them for our good when we love Him, admit our errors, and make amends.
    My Dad’s careers changed from his love of farming, to driving a grain truck delivering feed to dairy farmers (winning top NY State Purina Feed salesman awards for 1961 and 1962), to carpentry with his Dad, a general contractor in northeast New Jersey, to driving an 18-wheeler hauling tanks locally and later OTR (over the road/cross country).  When we lived in Clifton, NJ, he drove chemical tankers locally in northeast Jersey, southern New England, and New York City.  What stories he brought home from his experiences!  I got to ride with him only twice and wish it could have been more.
    I was never so happy as when we moved back to New York in 1969!  Though I hated city life, I can now look back at special memories in Clifton where I was born.  As we settled into “backyard farming,” he taught me how to care for our mare, War Bugg, a granddaughter of Man O’ War, a retired Western working ranch registered Quarter Horse.  One of his trucking buddies also rode the rodeo circuit and put War Bugg through her paces – she did a figure-eight so tight you’d’ve thought she’d fall over!  I helped Dad build her corral and box stall in the barn, along with re-roofing and remodeling the old chicken coop for our flock.  And then came the heavy-duty barn chores of bringing hay down out of the mow, hauling 50-lb bags of grain, mucking out the pens, learning to groom War Bugg and pick up her feet to clean the soft undersides, devouring books on horses and their care, dreaming of being an equine vet.  I saw his deep concern when I stepped on a wasp’s nest in the haymow with 11 stings on my leg, and his gratefulness for my dousing him with a 5-gallon pail of water when a torch threatened to catch him on fire while trying to burn tent caterpillars, chuckling later that I almost drowned him!
    But I also learned the hard way that running War Bugg flat out up the road and back could have killed her.  Not realizing the depth of War Bugg’s Western training, I’d simply clicked my tongue and she took off like a rocket, so I let her run… on the paved road.  I was scolded hard, yet taught to walk her slowly, allowing her to have only small sips of warm water till she cooled down.  After riding her another time, I dismounted, tied her to the backyard light pole, and ran into the house briefly.  On returning, I realized she’d pulled on and broken her bridle, standing as if still tied with reins straight down.  And it was then I realized she was Western trained to be “ground tied” and to take off at the click of the tongue, very responsive to touch, the absolute best horse!  I still miss her…
    Soon enough, I got married and began a new life with my new family, while my siblings and parents scattered themselves around the U.S.  Life changes, and we change with it. We learn from those childhood mistakes, and grow up wiser for them.  As a child, I teased my Dad when he turned 30 that he was old, and that when he’d turn 50 he’d be “over the hill!”  Well, Dad, guess what?  Your oldest daughter reached that milestone a good ways back, and she’s still kickin’!  Giving him this writing in 2014 before he passed away April 17, 2015, his wedding anniversary with my Mom, he knew I felt blessed to have him as my Dad.  Sometimes I wish I could go back and relive the childhood fun of days long ago, but I treasure those memories that linger still... and I love you, Dad!
    May you each be blessed with very special memories of your Dad, too!  Happy Father’s Day! 
    I Remember A Dad
    Linda A. Roorda
    ~
    I remember a dad who took me fishin’
    And remember a dad who hooked my worms,
    Who took those hooks from fishy mouths,
    And showed me the country way of life.
    ~
    A family of six, two girls and four boys
    Fun and trouble we shared as we grew.
    From farms and fields to paved avenues,
    Walking and biking, exploring we went.
    ~
    I remember a time spent playing games,
    A dad who’d not cheat for us to win.
    Family and friends and holiday dinners,
    Lakes and farms and countryside drives.
    ~
    Weeds were the bane of childhood fun,
    So ‘tween the rows we ran and we played.
    But as I grew and matured in age,
    Weeding was therapy in gardens of mine.
    ~
    I remember a dad who thrived on farming
    Livestock and gardens, and teaching me how.
    I remember a dad who took me huntin’
    Scoutin’ the fields, always alert.
    ~
    I remember a dad who taught us more
    For growing up we learn by example.
    I remember working alongside my dad
    Roofing a barn and building corrals.
    ~
    I remember a dad whose gifts were given
    In fairness to meet each child’s desire.
    I remember a dad whose wisdom we honor
    In memories of caring and love in small ways.
    ~
    I remember a dad who brought us laughter
    With Cajun and Cosby stories retold.
    For blessed with a gift of retelling tales
    Family and childhood events he recalled.
    ~
    I remember a dad whose time was given
    To help his children face life’s turmoils.
    Time spent together are memories treasured
    For things done best put family first.
    ~
    I remember a dad who taught me more
    To treasure my faith in Jesus my friend.
    In looking to Him as Savior and Lord,
    Salvation by Grace, not earned by my deed.
    ~
    As I look back to days long ago,
    I remember the dad I knew so well.
    For I miss the dad who took me fishin’
    And remember the dad who taught me more.
  10. Linda Roorda

    A Vessel of Worth

    By Linda Roorda,

    I love to sing, always have, since I was a kidlet.  In my childhood, it was the old Hymns of Faith whether in Christian elementary school, church, choirs, in the backseat of the car singing with my sister as our family went for a drive, or as she and I sang an occasional duet in church.  As a teen, I sang along with old country/western and then rock songs of the early ‘70s on 99.1, the WAAL.  Yet, I’ve always enjoyed the old hymns, simply for the truth of the words and the joy of singing, though I also appreciate the upbeat contemporary praise and worship songs on Family Life Network, 88.5-FM.  As I age, I still love to sing though my voice is not always as crisp and clear, nor even as loud as it once was.  With pulmonary sarcoidosis, I just don’t have the volume or depth of air in my lungs anymore.
    As a retired member/leader of a church Praise Team, it was a humbling honor to select music for the worship service - hymns, country gospel songs, or contemporary praise songs.  Each week we brought a different set of songs, usually chosen in an attempt to mesh with the Scripture readings.  Our hearts were touched when we chose music not knowing the Scriptures to be read and the songs fit perfectly, knowing God worked through us!  Occasionally, we felt moved to change a song, or for some reason we unexpectedly needed “Plan B” with a different option.  Time after time, we saw what could be looked at as a failure of our plans but which instead was intended by God for His purpose… to touch someone’s heart in a way we could not have foreseen.
    For there’s something about singing that lifts the heart up… from utter despair… from a difficult day… from the trials and wounds of life… from pains and losses in life that scar… like a cleansing of the soul, bringing a renewed sense of worth.  God takes our brokenness and makes something of beauty from it.  If only those who complain about musical choices could understand that perspective, what a joyful difference it would make!
    Because singing also lifts the heart up in praise to God for all the goodness He’s blessed us with… for His taking us through those difficult times to better days… for His working through our wounds and scars to refine us and use us for His purpose, for His glory… so that, with praise and joy for all He has done for us, we might then touch another life along the way.
    After I wrote the poem below, its message reminded me of the old hymn, “Have Thine Own Way, Lord” by Adelaide A. Pollard (1902), put to music by George C. Stebbins.  This worshipful song has been a favorite since my childhood.  “Have Thine own way, Lord!  Have Thine own way!  Thou art the Potter, I am the clay.  Mold me and make me after Thy will, while I am waiting yielded and still.”
    And the Scriptures from which both the above hymn and my poem’s messages are drawn reflect the Master Potter’s work in us: “So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel.  But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands, so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.” (Jeremiah 18:3-4 NIV)  Another prophet felt the same way as he praised our heavenly Father by writing, “Oh Lord, you are our Father.  We are the clay, you are the potter; we are the work of your hand.” (Isaiah 64:8 NIV)
    Our life is a continual process of growth and refinement through the years.  As we stay focused on our God and His love, He refines our rough edges… our failures, mistakes, and sins… and works through them to bring out our best, just like the Potter, almost without our realizing it… 
    Then, one day, we take a look back.  As we ponder the path we’ve been on, we realize how our Lord took us through difficult times to clear away the pain of wounds… to draw us closer to Him… to cleanse us from our sin… to refine and change our attitudes from within… to renew our life’s direction… and to bring joy to our heart… as we become a vessel of worth, more like Christ.  And that’s something worth singing about! 
    A Vessel of Worth
    Linda A. Roorda 
    I’m like a clay pot, a plain earthen vessel
    Scarred and fragile, bruised and broken.
    What can I offer in this condition?
    What is my value, and what am I worth?
     
    So I watched the Potter as he took raw clay
    Gray bland in color, an undefined block.
    Throwing the clay with fingers easing
    All the rough edges, the lump he refined.
     
    Faster he pedaled, wheel turning smooth
    Humming a tune, his hands deftly worked.
    His vision emerged through design taking shape
    While gently he scraped imperfections aside.
     
    Yet there in the clay for all to see clear
    Lay fissures and cracks now being exposed.
    Some faults ran deep, others lay shallow
    All marred perfection, casting doubt as to worth.
     
    Swiftly he worked to shape and refine
    As beauty beneath was slowly brought forth.
    Heat up the furnace! the potter exclaimed.
    It’s only through fire refinement is made.
     
    Purging the defects, molding and shaping
    Tempering through fire, perfection to find.
    For hidden from view in mind’s eye alone
    Lay His creation, a vessel of worth.
     
    As I stood aside observing the skill
    Which molded and shaped a plain lump of clay,
    I thought of the One who had created me
    A vessel of value, made worthy by Him.
    ~~
    2014
  11. Linda Roorda
    It’s that time of year again!  School is already in full swing in some states, while locally and elsewhere school begins during the week after Labor Day. And students are either glad to be back in class or longing for the final bell of the day to ring.  Classes and the extended subjects are much different now than they were 200 years ago.  Students often did not have a strictly set school year like today, but were excused to help with farm chores such as planting and harvesting crops.  Like many great Founders of America who were self-taught, our ancestors were either self-taught, home tutored, private schooled, or had limited access to public school.  Even then, a good foundation was laid in what they learned which enabled them to succeed well in their life’s profession or to pursue university studies. I have two school books for math and English (in photo above) used by ancestral families, published in 1852 and 1875, that show they definitely got a solid education!
    The school was considered the next most important building in a community after the home.  It was the center of a small town where church, town meetings, community events and picnics were often held.  The “Little House on the Prairie” books and TV series provides a good example of the one-room schoolhouse, the hub of the community. 
    According to Jean Alve (Spencer Historian, Tioga County, NY) in “Sounds of Spencer” for February 24, 1993 (“Looking Back at the History of Spencer, A collection of newspaper articles, 1983-1997”, pub. by The Spencer Historical Society), the Huggtown School of North Spencer was one of the last local one-room schoolhouses.  In use until 1935, John Cowell was the last teacher.  Located next to North Spencer Baptist Church, the building was moved to private property on Cowell Road in 1981, and is now owned by The Spencer Historical Society. 
    My attending two small Christian schools in East Palmyra, NY and Passaic, NJ for elementary grades was, in some ways, similar to the old-fashioned one-room school concept.  Two or three grades were combined with up to 25-30 children per teacher.  I well remember the stop-watch timed math tests, the spelling bees, and oral reading groups.  We memorized math facts, learned to read phonetically, and were drilled with flash cards. 
    My mother and her 11 siblings attended the one-room school in Carlisle, Schoharie County, NY from 1st through 5th grade before going to middle and high school in Cobleskill.   In the 1930s and 1940s, a bus saved them from walking the mile or so to and from school.  She recalled their attempt to walk home during a blizzard one winter, but the fierce wind-driven snow and cold drove them into the town’s only restaurant where they called their father.  They took sandwiches to school, but once a week their teacher cooked them a hot meal.  She can still recall her teachers’ names, with the only man teaching for a few months before being drafted into WW II.  Her favorite subjects were social studies/history, with a 95 on her 8th-grade Regents!  Still her favorite subject, it’s an interest she’s passed on to me.
    My mother’s father, born in 1887, went to that same one-room school building, graduating with an 8th grade education.  A jack-of-all-trades, Leo Tillapaugh was not only a premier dairy farmer of registered Holsteins when that was not the norm, he was elected to the Cobleskill school board for 20 years until his passing, was town Justice of the Peace, Town Highway Superintendent for Carlisle, bookkeeper for the local creamery, and a highly-respected community leader.  I wish I could have known him…
    In the typical one-room schoolhouse, up to eight grades were taught together.  Just as for my mom, boys and girls entered through separate front doors and sat on opposite sides of the room, with the youngest children up front.  Classes were usually held from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. with short morning and afternoon recesses.  Schools were typically built within about a 2-mile walking radius for the students, though some came from longer distances and rode a horse or horse-drawn wagon.  There was often a pasture to stake the horses in, and occasionally a shed in which to stable them. 
    Lunch was carried in baskets or tin pails.  The teacher called the students inside by ringing the bell.  Classes typically began with the Lord’s Prayer, a Bible reading, and roll call before lessons.  An outhouse/privy was located behind the school.  Water from the well was often drunk from one bucket, each student using a common dipper to drink from.  No wonder illnesses spread like wildfire among the children, and quarantines were necessary with suspension of classes at times.
    The teacher was equally a man as a woman, though most women did not teach after marriage.  The teacher was well respected, meting out discipline as necessary.  We have read or seen depictions of teachers who severely overstepped their bounds in disciplinary actions, but that was not the norm from my research.  One of the most common punishments was a whipping with a switch/branch, which would leave red marks on contact.  My mother said there was little disruption and unruliness in their classes; but, she chuckled to recall that, indeed, a few students were taken out to the back shed for discipline.  Most teachers truly cared for and loved their students, being involved in their lives within the community outside the classroom.  My mother said that was also true of their teachers, including one who enjoyed cross-country skiing with them on their farm.
    Students were given responsibilities according to their age.  In the colder months, older children brought in coal or firewood for the stove set in the middle or back of the room.  There was little to no thought of putting insulation in buildings back then, so those sitting nearest to the stove would be toasty warm while students farther away shivered.  Younger students cleaned the blackboard/chalkboard and took erasers outside to clap them clean.  I remember doing that as a child!  It was so much fun to watch the puffs of chalk dust - the harder we clapped, the bigger the puffs!
    Chores by the teacher and students would include making sure the chimney was clean of soot to prevent smoke buildup or a chimney fire.  The floor was swept every day, desks cleaned, blackboards and erasers cleaned, and the windows washed often for light as there was no electricity, only oil lamps or candles which would have given off a certain amount of smoke.  I would imagine that, like now, not all children willingly did their assigned chores, and sometimes certain chores might be doled out as punishment for an infraction. 
    The three R’s, reading, ‘riting and ‘rithmetic, are the necessities to the foundation of any good education.  Teaching back then did not require the extensive education and degrees of today.  What they needed most was a good knowledge of what was being taught, a love for the children, an ability to discipline fairly, and a commitment to teaching and helping each child learn.  Much was taught by memorization, rote and drills.  Flash cards and drills were popular. Children memorized math facts without the fancy terminology of today, which I think causes confusion.  Nor did the elementary grades touch on the algebraic sets or equations that are used to teach now. 
    Reading was taught by the phonics method with hornbooks (a primer with the alphabet and numbers for children) and spellers, and later the six popular graduated “Eclectic Readers” by William Holmes McGuffey.  McGuffey readers were first published in 1836, teaching reading and values such as honesty, courage and good manners.  These popular books were still used in the early 20th century.  Eventually, sight word recognition came into vogue.  http://www.thephonicspage.org/On Phonics/historyofreading.html   I remain a strong proponent of phonics; it’s been the key to my success in medical transcription when meeting new terminology, and was key to helping my children learn to read. 
    Spelling bees were often a popular way to end the school week. The student who could out spell everyone else was highly admired until the next week’s bee and new winner.  Except, of course, when you carry the stigma of an infamous mistake!  Having only moved to Clifton, NJ a week earlier, I was intrigued by a tractor trailer I saw with an orange S.O.X. printed on the side for South Orange Express.  We happened to have a spelling bee that morning, my best subject!  Seriously!  My turn came and the teacher called out, “Socks.”  Confidently facing the entire class, and without thinking, I heard myself say, “S-o-x.” 
    Writing was not with lined paper and pencil familiar to our students.  Instead, they used rock slates and scratched their answers with slate pencils.  As they got older, pen and paper were used, usually with a quill pen made of a sharpened goose feather dipped into the inkwell on their desk.  To prevent the ink from smudging, they would press special blotting paper down onto their writing to absorb the excess ink.  What a lot of effort that must have taken, especially when compared to the ease of today’s technology!
    Desks might be planks with benches, or actual 1-2 person desks.  Up front, the teacher might have a bench near her desk for students to “privately” recite their lessons.  A blackboard, an alphabet sheet, a United States flag, and a clock were often decoratively displayed on the front wall.
    Many of us have seen the “famous” 8th grade test from 100-200 years ago making the email rounds that we adults supposedly couldn’t pass today.  I agree; in reading through it, I can’t begin to answer the questions.  However, if we had studied facts specifically for the test, I think we’d pass with flying colors.  Well, except for anything above algebra and general science – those were not among my best subjects.
    As evidenced by research, our ancestors were very well educated with “just” a one-room schoolhouse 8th-grade education.  After all, their education success led them to become the successful parents, community  leaders, and businessmen and women they were as they brought our communities into the modern age.
  12. Linda Roorda

    Peace in the Storm

    By Linda Roorda,

    There have been many times when my peace was shattered... in difficult storms, painful wounds, and major losses... and I was in turmoil.  Like December 2019 when my husband was found to be in life-threatening diabetic hyperglycemic hyperosmolar syndrome, a rare complication of diabetes type II.  We were both overwhelmed with the new diagnosis of type II diabetes, and a new treatment regimen on top of his multiple other health issues.  We fully realize countless others have successfully dealt with this diagnosis, but the initial shock left us overwhelmed. 
    This year, Ed was hospitalized twice in July, again at the end of September, in the ER in early December for severe asthma and severe congestive heart failure with pulmonary edema.  Arriving home that night after spending 8-1/2 hours in the ER, I found two “thinking of you” cards in the mailbox from dear friends. What perfect timing! God knew we needed a special reminder of how he uses each of us to bring His love and caring to those who need a cheerful lift.
    And just a few days after Christmas 2022, Ed was hospitalized for 8 days with fluid overload on chronic congestive heart failure. At cardiac catheterization, three stents were placed to open a fully blocked artery, with more near total blockages and damage throughout his heart, and prolonged atrial fibrillation.  Now, he’s been readmitted with Covid, multiple blood clots in his lungs, more difficulty breathing, and major weakness. But the cards mentioned above, and the many kind comments of loving care and prayers to my updates, remind me of the following blog I’d penned based on words written so many centuries ago.  
    Reading our devotions one evening several years ago, my husband quietly asked me to read Psalm 91.  He wasn’t sure what it said, but he had a strong sense God was urging him to have me read this Psalm for a particular difficulty I was facing.
    In reading Psalm 91 aloud, I found these words by King David spoke to my heart:  “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say to the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust’… He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart… If you make the Most High your dwelling – even the Lord, who is my refuge – then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent… ‘Because he loves me, says the Lord, I will rescue him; I will protect him…’ He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.”  (vs.1-2, 4, 9-10, 14-15. NIV)
    Despite the tears rolling down while reading the entire Psalm that night, I felt a great sense of comfort and peace… that peace which passes all understanding despite the trial.  (Philippians 4:7)
    None of us is immune to the trials and storms of life.  Though sometimes God graciously allows a storm to pass us by without disturbing our equilibrium, other times He fully heals our difficult storm, while other times we have no choice but to wend our way through the storm… for neither are we promised a life of ease.  As Jesus reminded his followers in John 16:33, “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world.” 
    The one who is ill may not even look ill.  They remember their busy fulfilling life of the past, replaced by a limited worth or useless feeling that permeates their days.  We’ve learned it is normal to grieve life changes with sadness and frustration, even as my husband’s great sense of humor pops through despite a difficult day to envelope us in therapeutic hearty laughter. 
    But I will also admit to a touch of envy knowing most friends can do anything or go wherever they want, not an option for us to enjoy.  It can be hard to identify with those who deal with chronic illness… facing health issues and concerns other folks don’t ever seem to encounter.  And the grieving process can initially leave you devoid of the joy which James 1:2-3 speaks about as we learn to accept chronic illness.  
    Guilt may even be felt by the chronically ill person and family when prayers for healing seem to go unanswered.  To hear a casual or flippant response, to be told we’re not praying right, or to sense a lack of genuine care can be crushing. As we pray for healing, we especially ask for strength to handle each day… because healing as we want may not be God’s plan.  The Apostle Paul was not healed as he desired, but learned that God’s grace was sufficient with Christ’s power and strength evident through his (Paul’s) weaknesses.  (II Corinthians 12:7-10)   Relying on God for wisdom and strength each day, God’s power shines through.
    I will never forget a hospital chaplain who sat with me when Ed was in the ICU in 2010 for severe life-threatening grand mal (tonic-clonic) seizures.  Gradually pulling out our life story, he listened and cared deeply, saying that in 30 years as a chaplain, he’d never met a family who’d dealt with the many issues we had, and I hadn’t even told him all, praying with me in facing a new major stressor.  Six months later, Ed was back in the ER, hearing his favorite ER physician say, “I’m so glad to see you! Oh, not that you’re ill again, but that you survived those seizures and have no damage!”  Wow!  She truly cared!
    We appreciate the support and prayers of family and friends as we face each new trial.  Take time to hear concerns as a new norm is accepted, leaning on God as He walks beside those in the storm.  Share your heartfelt hugs.  Convey a depth of feeling and understanding in asking “how are you doing.”  Friends and family who ask and truly listen to understand what anyone with chronic illness faces bring much comfort.  Offers of help are gratefully appreciated, even if they cannot be readily accepted.
    While we're inside the storm, though the wind and waves batter our world, we do remember God is still there, still in control.  We know we can trust Him to hold us tightly, to shelter and protect… even though we may lose everything, including life itself, as when we lost our daughter.  Yet, through the difficulty, He will make a way, perhaps close one door to open a better one, and shine His light to guide us as we move forward… one step at a time.
    It’s where we place our trust that peace will be revealed.  And when it’s placed in our Lord’s perfect will, trusting that He has our best interests at heart even in the most difficult times, we see Him help us handle what’s come our way as we grow in faith to become more like Christ.  With such trust, our faith remains unshakable and we find a renewed peace… with a joy that passes understanding.
    There’s a painting I love entitled “Peace in the Midst of the Storm” by Jack E. Dawson.  One story is told that a wealthy benefactor searched for the perfect painting depicting peace.  The first two beautiful tranquil scenes were rejected.  When the artist returned to his easel, frustrated at his work being rejected, his prayer prompted the design of a riveting scene.  On a dark and stormy night, water gushes in torrents over rocky ledges…as a mother bird calmly sits upon her nest tucked under a ledge, protecting her young while the elements rage. Now that’s peace! 

    Studying that painting, I also notice a profile of Christ in the rock formations and a cross created by rocky fissures.  Considering how our heavenly Father gently guides and protects us during the storms of life, however fierce they may be, it’s His canopy of love and peace that shelters and comforts.  And I can be at peace when life is in turmoil knowing that “[He] will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in [Him].  Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord…is the Rock eternal.” (Isaiah 26:3-4 NIV) 
    Peace
    Linda A. Roorda
    ~
    There is a peace in the depth of my soul
    A joy that only comes from Your love,
    For in the midst of storms and trials
    My heart is steady when focused on You.
    ~
    But peace is fleeting when I fail to heed
    When I take charge and grasp hold the wheel.
    I need to trust that Your ways are best
    When through the darkness I walk gripped by fear.
    ~
    For as the waves relentlessly toss
    Your face I’ll seek for comforting solace.
    I know You’ll guide me safely to shore
    As Your light shines down to brighten my way.
    ~
    For what is peace without Your mercy
    The hand held out to offer refuge,
    An ear to hear burdens of the heart
    Arms to envelope the soul in turmoil?
    ~
    Grace beyond measure You pour over me
    Yet I don’t deserve riches of mercy.
    Prone to wander, to follow my will
    Still You pursue to seek and to save.
    ~
    There is contentment just in the knowing
    Whenever I feel the world crashing down,
    You call my name and draw me with joy
    Out of the chaos and into Your arms.
    ~
    And like a fresh rain washing over me
    Peace like the sun envelopes my soul,
    It covers my life with joy unreserved
    Tranquility found as I rest in You.
    ~~
    07/08/15
  13. Linda Roorda
    The tomboy that I was growing up, especially in my teens, working and learning beside my Dad, prepared me for later becoming a farmer’s wife.  After all, the love of farming is in the blood of both my parents!  Yet we women fill so many different roles.  Not all of us are wives and mothers.  Some of us remain single.  Some of us are meant to pursue life-time careers.  Some of us work to support our family, when we would prefer to be at home raising our children. Often, our likes and dislikes, and even careers, change throughout our lifetime. 
    Typically, we women are great multi-taskers, but I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad! We come from different walks in life, and we’re very different from each other in feelings, perspectives, and opinions. I’ve had several “big sister” or “surrogate mothers” in my lifetime who added a special dimension to my maturing and learning - my Dad’s mother, Grammy, with whom I wrote letters virtually every week for decades from my teens on, there to help raise me as an infant and toddler, and then there with an ear and advice as I raised my own children; my cousin Howard’s wife, Carol, like a big sister to me and whose four children my sister and I babysat for during their weekend auctions in our teens, and with whom I continue to keep in touch as we share our hearts; and his brother Robert’s wife, Virginia, who was briefly my hunting partner in my teens, who also taught me how to cook certain meals when I lived with their family while working in Ithaca several months before my marriage to Ed, learning to make homemade spaghetti sauce and a down-home delicious goulash, both a favorite on our own supper menu. 
    I remember my Mom for many things… as I grew up, she was a traditional housewife, taking care of the home and growing a large garden.  She continued her mother’s example by canning and freezing the produce every summer except the years we lived in Clifton, NJ.  When we butchered chickens, Dad put them on the chopping block, we sisters were the “dunk-and-pluck” crew, while Mom knew how to properly dress them for the freezer, showing us one hen’s set of graduated eggs sans shells from large to very small!  She was quiet and reserved, did not share much, if anything, about herself or her family as I grew up, but she had a strong faith in God.  She loved the country/farm life, as I do.  And she knew how to cook up the squirrel I shot, or all game and fish my Dad brought home, very deliciously!
    A few things she shared included making fully homemade custard ice cream (no pre-made mix, as we kids clamored for a turn at hand cranking), bottling homemade root beer, and heating up the best hot cocoa with real cocoa powder, sugar and milk on the stove.  She also made a Dutch barley soup with buttermilk and brown sugar that I loved, as well as the most delicious cream puffs in the world using our duck eggs.  She could sew, but it was not her favorite.  She taught me to iron our clothes and Dad’s handkerchiefs before permanent press fabrics hit the market.  I loved her homemade bread and made some a few times after I was married, but it was more work than I really liked.  As a kid, I savored her delicious toasted Velveeta cheese sandwiches with her homemade dill pickle slices tucked between slices of her homemade bread – long before Vlasic ever thought of selling bottled dill pickle slices for that very purpose! 
    My sister and I did a lot of the bean and pea picking, snapping and shelling.  Though we tossed some of those veggies as youngsters when we were tired of our chore, freshly picked and cooked peas remain my favorite.  I loved visiting the farm my Mom grew up on, and later in life enjoyed hearing her tell stories of her younger days.  She shared some of her wisdom, but typical of teens, I wasn’t always listening or accepting.  I did not hear much of her childhood until I began researching and documenting her family’s genealogy decades after I got married.  I treasure the time I drove her around her home town of Carlisle, NY, as she shared and pointed out places connected to her life, and wrote down her childhood stories. But, sadly, I have very few photos of her.
    My only desire had been to be a stay-at-home mother like my Mom, but circumstances beyond our control put me back into the workforce when my children were very young.  Each of my secretarial jobs (beginning part time as a high school senior in an Owego law office), built the foundation and skills for the next job, preparing me for my final medical transcription career before retiring and changing direction once more - subbing for teachers and their TAs, jobs I love, “being there” for the students.  But whether it’s being a mother or having a career, that’s not where all our satisfaction is found.
    It does our heart good to “be there” for someone else, whether to provide emotional support, bring a meal to a shut-in, or lend aid in other ways to someone in need… sometimes even if only to give an ear and a shoulder for their hurts.  And that doesn’t begin to describe the love felt by the recipients of our gifts of love and time.  But, doing good for others is not where we derive all our satisfaction either.
    For several years, a popular women’s Bible study has been the “Proverbs 31 Woman.”  I like this passage of Scripture in Proverbs 31:10-31 (NIV), written by Israel’s King Solomon who had achieved fame as the wisest man in the world.  It speaks about a wife of noble character, and what she does to bring blessing to her husband and children, her family.  She works to care and provide for the needs of her household.  She buys and sells property and goods for a profit.  She respects her husband and brings him good in all she does, whether at home, among her friends, or in the city at large.  She speaks with a wise heart.  She does not sit around in idleness; instead, she demonstrates strength and dignity in all situations.
    As I ponder this passage, I feel like it shows that I clearly don’t measure up.  For I know all too well my own failings.  Yet, there’s no reason why I cannot pursue change within.  So, I shall seek that quiet time to study, meditate, pray, and listen to what the Lord has to say within my heart.  It’s the Lord’s approval I seek… to guide my steps, to change my course, to cover me with forgiveness, peace and contentment, and to find satisfaction in doing what He expects of me even when it’s not the easiest path, nor the one I would choose.
    May you be blessed - whether or not you are called Mom - for all the love you share, and for all the time and effort you put into being there for those around you… Happy Mother’s Day! 
    I Am A Woman
    Linda A. Roorda
    I am a woman.  I am a mother.
    I’m a little girl, deep in my heart.
    I am emotions, raw and revealing.
    I am deep strength when life overwhelms.
    ~
    I’ve carried love within my heart
    For family dear, and friends held close,
    For husband wise, light of my world
    And children young, growing their dreams.
    ~
    I see the needs to be fulfilled.
    I reach to you, a life to touch.
    I shed a tear, and hold your hand
    To ease your pain, and bring a smile.
    ~
    In quiet time, I seek Your will, Lord.
    A time to renew, to calm my fears,
    To savor sweet dreams, my hopes and plans
    As You care for me, and meet all my needs.
    ~
    I fail at times to walk the path
    Yet You, oh Lord, are at my side.
    You pick me up each time I fall
    To gently remind, Your child I am.
    ~
    I’ve harbored pain of losses that wound.
    I’ve weathered storms, battered and scarred.
    My weary soul with peace You fill,
    That I may praise and bless Your name.
    ~
    I hear Your voice and will in Your Word,
    For wisdom I’ve gained upon this road
    Will lead me on to comfort and love
    Others in need with You at my side.
    Photo taken by my Dad of Mom, my sister and me in our one-room cabin in Delta Junction, Alaska
    while my Dad completed his Army service foreign assignment (before Alaskan statehood).
     
  14. Linda Roorda
    Early Friday morning, before heading to another of Ed’s appts, I stood on the deck with the sun on my face, gazing at the garden beyond this big beautiful tree that, 40 years ago, was about 8-10 feet tall at most. Even our daughter said when visiting in July that she couldn’t get over how big it had gotten! Then, hearing the drone of a plane engine in the bright blue sky overhead, until its sound slowly faded on its journey to far-away places … reminded me of my childhood, laying in the grass, staring at the clouds and listening to plane engines overhead, without a care in the world, especially about bugs and ticks in the grass, deciding what the huge puffy clouds looked like in comparison to my sister’s thoughts… and sometimes, what I’d give for more days like that childhood fun… quiet, unperturbed, no worries or cares, and no fears of an unknown future…
    We’ve spent 6 of 7 weekdays going to medical appointments since Ed came home from the hospital on the 3rd… with 3 out of 5 days next wk having appts. Tho Ed is utterly exhausted, we’re thankful he’s still here with us, as we’ve come close to losing him at least half a dozen times over the decades… thankful for my prior hospital medical transcription job where my boss allowed me to work 3am to 11am so I could take care of Ed and his appts in the afternoons over so many years in the past… thankful for the elderly dear friend who wanted to visit Ed this past week and who, on hearing I was sorry to tell him “no” for how exhausted Ed was from his extensive appt calendar, graciously apologized and said he’d leave us alone for a while till Ed felt better again.  Unlike someone several years ago who could not understand that concept nor our needs.
    But for all who’ve cared enough to ask how Ed’s doing, tho I say “ok” and “stable”, he’s not ok. It’s really hard to explain. We thank you and are so grateful for your caring. Ed is improved from when he was hospitalized both times in July. That said, life is a daily struggle for him, for anyone with worsening severe congestive heart failure and multiple other health issues, knowing CHF has no cure. He’s had a few drug changes, eliminating some nasty side effects while replacement meds bring on new problems.
    It’s remembering to focus on God being here with us, even in the midst of what seems like never-ending difficulties in health or other challenges, wondering if our prayers are heard, while also knowing He does work all things for good to those who love Him… even when we feel so alone… because He has said He will never leave us nor forsake us. And sometimes I need a little reminder when life becomes overwhelming…
    I wrote the following article in 2016, accepted for publication in the Christian Reformed Church Disability Network Newsletter in 2017.
    Why do we have to deal with suffering? Why aren’t we miraculously healed when we pray for healing? Didn’t Jesus say, “Ask anything in my name and it shall be given you”? So, are we not healed due to a lack of faith or the right prayers?
    What Jesus did say was: "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” (Matthew 7:7) He also said “… and I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it." (John 14:13-14) 
    John later wrote, "This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.” (I John 5:14) And therein lies the key – asking in God’s will. But that begs the question… what is God’s will?
    My husband, Ed, and I have traveled a long road with his disabilities and health issues. We’ve been told to pray and fast for healing, and trust that he will be healed. It sounds so easy, but healing has not come. We have been told it was our fault that he has not been healed because we did not pray right. Although I would never want to destroy a prayer of hope, the Bible does not teach that we can manipulate God into doing what we want just by saying the right words or having "enough" faith.
    With his long-term illnesses, disabilities, and unrelenting pain and dizziness, my husband and I have wondered what’s wrong with us that healing has passed him by. Intimations by well-meaning friends that healing is simply for the asking has devastating effects, including guilt. While the “well” person can walk away emotionally and physically intact, how do we handle the seemingly raw deal we’ve been dealt? 
    Personally, I think it takes a deeper faith to move forward without obvious answers and healing. Just maybe there really is a purpose in our suffering. As we read in James, we are to “consider it pure joy…whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4). For “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial." (vs.12) Once upon a time I did not understand that concept and reacted poorly to adversity. Yet, even in that, I am not alone. 
    Paralyzed from the neck down after a shallow dive soon after graduating from high school, I learned Joni Eareckson Tada initially reacted negatively when I read several of her books. She expected answers to prayers for miraculous healing. But healing never came. Disappointed, discouraged and despairing, she finally came to terms with accepting her disability. She has seen God work by changing her heart instead, and she praises God for the blessing her ministry has been in transforming the lives of others.
    Despite his multitudinous losses of family and personal property, Job did not sin in his quest for answers. Learning of his losses, he worshipped God saying, “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.” (Job 1:21b) He did not blame or curse God. But, in questioning God, and hearing the Almighty’s queries of him, Job acknowledged an understanding of where he fit in the overall scheme of life. . . and that God was in control. And God eventually blessed him even more than before. I am impressed with Job’s humility as he learned to fully trust our loving, all-knowing and all-powerful God. 
    In unbelievable circumstances that I can’t comprehend, others have struggled to regain normalcy after devastating losses, knowing their life will never be the same. I’m sure they wish their life stories were different. But God knows why life has its rough roads. He knows our story from start to finish. (Psalm 139:13-16) He hears our cries and pleadings. And, though God seems silent at times, I’m reassured by Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” 
    As God draws us into a closer relationship with Him on a path we don’t like, Ed and I know that He will never leave us nor forsake us. (Hebrews 13:5b) We understand the redemptive quality which pain and difficulty can bring to our lives. As Philip Yancey put it so well, “We’re concerned with how things turn out; God is more concerned with how we turn out.”  (“The Question That Never Goes Away – Why?”, p.105) Therein lie the keys to accepting and understanding life’s difficult situations.
    When there are no answers to pleas for healing, may you, too, feel the Lord’s loving arms gently holding you with a comfort and peace only He can give.  May you feel His strength enable you to finish well the path He’s allowed you to walk. And, may you know His answer will yet be coming in His time…though maybe not until you stand face to face with Him. And may we each be found worthy at the end of our journey. 
    Answers
    Linda A. Roorda 
    Sometimes we have no healing for pain
    And answers to prayers seem elusive at best
    But in the silence the Lord whispers soft…
    I am still here; You are not alone.
     
    When the way gets rough, I will guide your steps
    When the path is steep, your hand I will hold
    When the night is long, at your side I’ll be
    When you can’t go on, I will carry you.
     
    Though sometimes My will is not what you want
    Plans I have made take time to work out
    Wending their way through trials you face
    With meaning found as your heart seeks mine.
     
    There’s much I long to share from My word
    Coming together with trust placed in Me
    Finding comfort in My arms of peace
    When to Me you give control of your path.
     
    Even though Faith is bright hope unseen
    It covers your soul, a protective shield
    And holds you tight when stormy winds blow
    To persevere when all else seems lost.
     
    For though sometimes answers seem fleeting
    Your heart is held still gently secure
    That you may know My mercy and grace
    Hold your best interests in loving scarred hands.
    ~~
    06/18/2016
     
  15. Linda Roorda

    Once Upon A Day

    By Linda Roorda,

    Sitting in my East Garden yesterday, I absorbed the warm sunny rays while viewing the garden’s fading beauty, enjoying the colorful zinnias now more beautiful with recent cooler days and refreshing rain, gazing out beyond the garden proper to encompass the yard, our house, and the road beyond… listening to the golfers’ chatter and excited shouts of joy... spying birds flutter among the hidden branches above, hearing their gentle twitters – tuhweet, tuhweet… watching a gentle breeze stir the branches and leaves above me and beyond… remembering the many years that have passed us by, 40 to be exact, since we moved into our new house… thinking of all the good times and the difficult days that entered our lives… and so very thankful for the blessings of home and family.
    Like the tiny seed in my poem that was once upon a day planted with so much hope held within the task, to the joy it brings on seeing and touching the beauty in full array as it reaches its zenith… so it has been in our lives.  Among blessings more than we take the time to count, our precious little ones have grown up from being nestled in our arms, absorbing our love and attention, building the foundation on which to stand while testing their wings, flying all too soon out into the great big world to find their own way…
    And that growth, that wisdom, which they eagerly absorbed into their hearts and minds, came into their lives as we parents tried to follow the wisdom from our creator, our Lord God above.  “Train up a child in the way he should go, And even when he is old he will not depart from it.” (Proverbs 22:6) 
    It is He who has established and numbered our days.  “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” (Psalm 139:13-16)
    It is God who has blessed us with our many talents and wisdom. James, the brother of Jesus, describes such wisdom from God as, "the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere." (James 3:17)
    It is the same God who guides us as we seek our way along this life’s journey... though sometimes we take the reins until we recognize God’s greater wisdom is really the wiser portion, for “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105)
    Our pathway might be smooth or it may be rocky, strewn with one obstruction or hurdle after another… all part of what matures and teaches us, giving us a deeper understanding of life, empathy and insight to support others facing a similar storm… as we turn for peace and comfort in God lest we become arrogant, thinking we alone know best.  King Solomon reminded us so long ago to “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and he will make your paths straight.” (Proverbs 3:5, 6 NIV)  Or, as the King James Version says, …”and He shall direct thy paths.”
    But we so easily forget and take charge of those reins… only to realize later that we need to return to the true source of wisdom once again. Though Solomon wrote down his profoundly wise words centuries ago, granted to him by God through prayer on becoming king when his father died, he encourages us in our walk of life today.  “The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel: for gaining wisdom and instruction; for understanding words of insight; for receiving instruction in prudent behavior, doing what is right and just and fair; for giving prudence to those who are simple, knowledge and discretion to the young -- let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance -- for understanding proverbs and parables, the sayings and riddles of the wise. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction. (Proverbs 1:1-7)
    And thus we see how blessed we’ve been when looking back…acknowledging how God has led us all the days of our lives… guiding us when we didn’t even realize it… using the difficulties to teach us wisdom for the future… making our paths straight for His purpose…  What an awesome God we serve!! 
    Once Upon A Day
    Linda A. Roorda 
    Once upon a day a seed was planted
    Just a tiny seed, held gently in hand
    The soil was tilled and the seed tucked in
    Patiently waiting its growth to begin.
     
    As the rains commenced and the sun shone warm
    The seed emerged from protective shell,
    And with firm foundation of sturdy roots
    Its tender leaves burst into the light.
     
    While storms blew fierce it held on firm
    Tightly gripping its feet in the soil
    Its tender stem and each tiny leaf
    Were gently swaying, dancing to the tune.
     
    Despite the tempest our plant stood tall
    It weathered the storm for its roots went deep
    Our plant knew its purpose, the unswerving truth
    And humbly displayed character unbent.
     
    And so with us as we arrive at birth
    Helpless and feeble, but eager to grow
    Nourished in love with foundation deep
    We mature to face the storms of life.
     
    Though we might break without firm support
    And may wander down destruction’s lane
     Yet often it’s from our mistakes that we learn
    The wisdom of God planted deep in our soul.
    ~~
  16. Linda Roorda
    I’ve read books or stories from virtually every war in which men and women of our nation, including my immediate family, relatives and ancestors, have been involved.  Their sacrifices have deeply touched my heart as I live a life of freedom, a blessing either limited or unknown to so many elsewhere in this world.  Yet, both of our families have not known a loss of life in war during this past century.
    A few years ago, friends of ours shared some treasured family papers with me before the reign of Covid-19 when friends could freely visit.  Several boxes of treasures were given to this friend by a relative, mementoes she never knew her mother had kept.  They included old photographs and newspaper clippings.  What especially touched her heart were family photos and letters, especially from one of her brothers who had died in World War II.
    Her mother had saved numerous clippings of the war from a local Binghamton newspaper.  Here were reports of a war’s ups and downs, of the efforts of battle-worn troops, of men who paid the ultimate sacrifice, and of soldiers who returned home safely.  Also included were touching news reports by Ernie Pyle, a reporter embedded with troops in the European theater and later in the South Pacific. 
    Pyle was a beloved reporter in the U.S. and abroad.  He had a way with words, evoking an empathy from his readers for the servicemen he wrote about.  A reporter who opened his readers’ eyes, he put a personal touch to the effects of war, and to the emotions of hard-won battles for freedom’s sake.  I remember him well… no, I did not grow up during the war, but had purchased and read his book, “Brave Men,” as a teen.  Perusing my friend’s papers, I knew I had to take Pyle’s book down off my bookshelf and refresh my memory. 
    Continuing to read through the newspaper clippings, thoughts and emotions swirled around and the poem below began taking shape.  I have always been grateful to those men and women who have joined the military to protect our freedoms and to gain the same for the oppressed around the world.  But to think about each one who has ever gone off to war, to remember them as their family knew and loved them so well… is to contemplate the little child who ran into the loving arms of parents with boundless energy, full of love and joy… the playing and learning he or she did under their wise and watchful eyes… the teen coming to terms with adolescent struggles… the young adult who emerged from military basic training with a new sense of purpose… the seasoned soldier whose loyalty to his or her unit proved a perseverance, endurance and bravery they never knew they had… and the final tribute paid to one who gave his or her all that others might live… is to contemplate the heart and soul of each one who left behind a sweetheart or spouse, beloved parents and siblings, and even children… the one forever remembered for a life interrupted, of the greatest sacrifice made, and of the legacy now carried in the heart and soul of those who have grieved their loss.
    As we celebrate Memorial Day tomorrow, may this simple poem evoke in you a heart of thanks for all who have served and not returned home safely, paying the ultimate sacrifice in any war.  Without a willingness to put their lives on the line for the sake of freedom, we would not be enjoying our “…land of the brave and home of the free.”   
     
    Heroes of Yesterday
    Linda A. Roorda
    Where tyranny reigns evil’s at the helm
    As the young and free who know only peace
    With faces brave must enter the fray
    In the fight for rights we take for granted.
    ~
    Responsibility trains boys into men
    With troop cohesion, a unit’s tight bond
    To honor and hold each life in their care
    For freedom’s defense and the rights of all.
    ~
    Orders to battle and the hell of war
    The call to arms which tests the mettle
    For within each heart lies the chance to prove
    The value of truth to fail or succeed.
    ~
    From red alert to general quarters
    Emotions run deep in calm before strife
    Of imminent fight and future yearnings
    Always thinking, “If I get through…alive…”*
    ~
    The sounds of war above stealth and fear
    The zing of bullets and bombs that explode
    Challenges met, overcome with courage
    Proving capable the common valor.
    ~
    Back home they reflect, living fear and dread
    Loved ones waiting for word from afar
    A card or letter received with relief
    Until the knock comes when time stands still.
    ~
    The letters home that ceased too soon
    As horrors of war burn deep in the soul
    Who’ll be the judge at the end of combat
    What the heart ponders to serve and protect…
    ~
    To gain advantage with success for peace
    To hold these truths that all may live free
    To lift the spirit and rebuild from loss
    As we remember peace has a cost.
    ~~
    *”Brave Men,” Ernie Pyle, Henry Holt and Company, Inc., 1944, p.5
  17. Linda Roorda

    Hope...

    By Linda Roorda,

    “You have cancer.”  Among the scariest words we can hear.  I was in shock.  My mind was racing.  Tears began to trickle down my cheeks.  I was both numb and yet devastated emotionally.  It caught me totally off guard.  Me?  Cancer?  I could not think clearly.  My heart was pounding.  I was in panic mode.  This cannot be happening!  I have so much to do to take care of my husband.  I don’t have time for this interruption in my life!
    October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  Diagnosed in 2014, I remain cancer free. Because a grieving process is normal when diagnosed, I share my story annually in the hope it helps encourage even one woman to make sure she does her own self breast exams and schedules a mammogram, preventing or finding breast cancer early for a good outcome.  And, if facing her own diagnosis, may she know there is a lot of support available. I am so thankful for the support of my cancer team nurse, and surgeon who, on seeing me in the pre-op area for Ed’s surgery two weeks before my own surgery, simply put his arm around my shoulder briefly to offer that silent voice of compassion. 
    My story was also shared in the past on the Christian Reformed Church Network website, and my cousin’s wife Carol submitted it to the Bradford Co., PA “Daily Review” who published it in October 2021 – all to remind others how important those exams are, because…
    I had actually intended to cancel my mammogram.  There was too much on my plate and I simply didn’t want to take the time to go for this exam in my already hectic schedule.  But, my husband (God bless him!) told me to take care of myself for once, and go get that mammogram.  Dutifully, and now thankfully, I listened to him.
    I could not have my husband with me when I was given the results of my biopsy - he was home with his own health issues, particularly severe constant dizziness when upright, along with extensive muscle and joint pain, recovering from life-threatening pancreatitis, multitudinous medical appointments, treatments, even surgery sandwiched between my biopsies and surgery, and he had not been able to work for several months.  Being blind, he cannot drive me to and from my appointments.  He can’t be with me to give his emotional support at my appointments, or even be with me at my surgeries.  He can’t be there to help ask questions, or simply put his strong arm of support around me… until I get home and share my fears with him.  And he’s been so good to me, so loving and supportive, sharing his Godly wisdom to help calm and soothe my anxious thoughts.  God blessed me with the best husband I could possibly have!
    But, I’m afraid.  I don’t know what lies ahead.  Will I get more cancer?  How will I take care of my husband and everything else if I’m incapacitated?  I don’t want to deal with all that I’m being forced to deal with.  I want to be left alone.  I want to be a little girl again without any cares or troubles.  But that’s not reality.  Reality means I will seek answers. 
    And so, as a medical/radiology transcriptionist, I research my diagnosis.  I read the literature from my surgeon’s office, and devour the words which reputable online medical centers or cancer associations have posted to discuss the disease and the best treatment options available.  Objectively, I understand what they’re talking about… I know what the words mean. But, deep down inside, I don’t want to digest it.  I’m overwhelmed.  I want to push it all away.  It’s become too personal.
    Yet, I have decisions to make.  Decisions I never thought I’d be making.  I’m more comfortable being on the typing end of the diagnostic language, feeling sorry for “my” patients.  Knowing that others have gone through this diagnosis and treatment before, and survived, is both helpful and unhelpful… mostly because each diagnosis and the dealing and healing is personal.  No one else can go through, or feel, exactly what you do.
    I talk with my husband’s aunt who faced her own cancer diagnosis several years ago.  She made her decisions, and did what needed to be done.  I like her attitude.  She is a true woman of faith, an inspiration to me as she looks to our Lord for his guidance every step of the way.
    And gradually, after making panicked decisions, then rethinking and picking each option apart, I come to a decision I can live with.  A decision my family and closest friends support me in.  And I’m okay… being reassured to know my cancer has been caught at an early stage.  For there are others I’ve known with a cancer diagnosis and prognosis worse than mine – those who have recovered after surgery and treatments and done well, those who have been through extensive treatments only to relapse, and those who have lost their lives from such a devastating disease…  And my heart goes out to every cancer patient and their families for all they have gone through.
    This poem was written in three sections at three different times after my diagnosis.  I was amazed at how the words seemed to flow with only minor adjustments.  But then, I shouldn’t be amazed at a God who has held my whole life in His hands.  And I praise the God who blesses me with the words and thoughts to write.
    And, while contemplating it all, this favorite verse of my late daughter, Jennifer, came to mind.  “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”  (Philippians 4:13)  I had embroidered it in a floral design to hang on the wall when she went to Houghton College, also making embroideries for my other two children, Emily and Dan, with their favorite verses. 
    I also found reassurance in “…know[ing] that in all things God works for the good of those who love him...”  (Romans 8:28)  While reading around this verse, I see, “…hope that is seen is no hope at all.  Who hopes for what he already has?  But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.  In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness.  We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us…in accordance with God’s will.”  (Romans 8:24-27)
    Even as I face my diagnosis head on, not knowing what to do or if I’m making the right decisions, God is there.  He answers my heart’s prayers, which I initially didn’t even know how to express other than “Help me, God!”  Then, as I read Romans 15:13, these comforting words enter my soul with more meaning than ever before, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” 
    Along this journey, I even found laughter… in, of all places, the book “Chicken Soup for the Soul, The Cancer Book, 101 Stories of Courage, Support and Love.” [pp.156-158] It was the kind of hearty laughter that brought tears to my eyes… a rolling-on-the-floor kind of laughter!  It may have been stifled for a while, but laughter is still within me.  And soon, smiles will once again reflect the joy deep in my heart!
    So, I’m at peace.  I find comfort in knowing God knew this obstacle on my journey before I even came to be.  He knew I would struggle, but He also knew how He would continue to draw me to His side, providing loving, caring family and friends to support me who gladly filled in for Ed by being at my side in the hospital, and bringing meals to us.  To know the extent of love, caring thoughts and prayers from family, friends and neighbors in our community is overwhelming. 
    As I’ve grappled with life’s changes, I know the Lord has had to carry me at times, but He has also led me through the maze as I’ve slowly learned to accept and deal with what He has allowed to come my way.  And I renew my hope in Him as He leads me forward.
    HOPE
    Linda A. Roorda
    When dark is the way and fear gathers ‘round
    When the road seems long with twists and turns
    The unexpected now comes into view
    Quite unprepared, my course it alters.
     
    The vista ahead fraught with fear and stress.
    How can this be? Can’t happen to me!
    How do I deal with changes to come?
    My plate is too full.  I can’t handle more!
     
    Why, Lord? I ask. I don’t understand!
    As I plunge into the depths of despair.
    I’m at a loss.  Why this obstacle?
    Why me?  But then… Why should it not be?
     
    Some days I’m numb.  Some days I just cry.
    With a loss of hope, and a heavy heart
    Many life changes I don’t want to face
    A grief ensues, a mourning what was.
     
    As sadness descends and stress consumes
    I want to cry.  I want to scream out.
    I haven’t the time.  I just cannot deal.
    Difficult questions now haunt all my thoughts.
     
    When darkness of night seems far too long
    And no answers come to pleading prayers
    Hold me tight Lord, in Your arms of peace
    That without fear a new day I may face.
     
    So I withdraw to an inner retreat
    My haven safe away from the pain
    A place where I rest to gather my fears
    Handing them over, releasing my frets.
     
    For there on the side just waiting for me
    With arms open wide He hears my deep sighs
    The cries of my heart, the fears locked inside
    Taking my burdens and guiding my steps.
     
    Who but you, Lord?  Who else but you?
    Who cares enough to count every tear?
    Who feels the pain, the fear and anguish
    That steals the joy from within my heart?
     
    Hope like a beacon peeks brightly through tears
    With a peace that calms my troubled seas
    Always at my side with a whisper soft
    Drawing me near and holding me close.
     
    Though I’ve felt lost while clinging to faith
    You’re always here embracing with love
    Returning my joy to face each new dawn
    Giving me hope in the peace of Your Light.
    ~~
  18. Linda Roorda

    Tolerance...

    By Linda Roorda,

    It seems we often want our way regardless of how anyone else feels.  That old “give-and-take” attitude I remember growing up with seems to be lacking... all too evident among those who mock and bully others, even within today’s world of politics… where a war of words continues to erupt, and others are canceled.  It seems like absolute truth and moral or ethical standards have become a negative, a cause for ridicule… while relativism, or determining our own truth as we want it to be, is more often revered. 
    Authors like Laura Ingalls Wilder and Mark Twain/Samuel Clemens have become suspect, apparently not worth our reading in today’s political correctness. They, like so many others, wrote about the way life was as they experienced it while walking upon this earth, something we can learn from.  The Wilder Award in literature has been renamed the Children’s Literature Legacy Award because Wilder used words of a different era, inappropriate for today.  We were appalled at censorship, banning and burning of books many years ago, yet even now we walk a fine line of what is appropriate.  We disallow our children to read of life in other times when words or language we now recognize as inappropriate was used.  Even the Holy Bible is often not acceptable because it might offend.
    Yet, as discerning parents, we did not allow our children to read a few specific books in high school.  We discussed why they were inappropriate reading material with both our children and school personnel.  We were told by the principal that, because we calmly explained our objections, the school graciously saw our valid points and gave alternative reading material.  In Jenn’s case, after giving one particular oral book report, a few classmates told her they wished they’d read that book instead of the original proffered book.  A true story, it showed a quality of character in the challenges a young man faced as an Olympian runner diagnosed with cancer.  Unable to compete, he turned to helping inner city under-privileged kids. 
    The book read by the rest of the class, however, was filled with gratuitous sex, filthy language, and mocking of parental/family values – found when I simply opened the book at random junctures.  Actually, the teacher told his students to seek their parents’ permission to read that book!  And, apparently, if other students actually showed it to their parents, we were the only ones who said “no way!”  Even the school board was shocked to learn what that book held.  It was pulled from the school’s required reading list, and the teacher actually complimented us on our strong stance, saying he learned a lot from us.  There truly is a time for discernment of right and wrong when done with respect. 
    My poem here began to flow with news of the violence and tearing down of our nation’s historical monuments in the summer of 2017 and since.  Removing such historical memorials does not erase or change history… except for the younger generations who never learn its truths.  There are lessons learned in those memories earned.  We’ve come so far.  We’ve grown in understanding and acceptance. Isn’t that cause for celebration rather than condemnation?  Our differences can be teachable moments.  That’s what Freedom of Speech is all about… with a chance to show love and respect even in our disagreement, revealing true tolerance, not denigrating or canceling someone just because you don’t like their stance.
    Tolerance, by definition, is an ability to be fair, to accept a viewpoint which is different, and to bear with another in realizing that the opposition also has rights… without approving wrong by our silence, or going into full rage when disagreeing with the alternative view.  Perhaps we remember that society’s Golden Rule (which promotes tolerance, when you think about it), actually comes from the words of Jesus in his Sermon on the Mount:  “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the law…” (Matthew 7:12a) 
    Yet, tolerance is not a license to do anything we want at will.  A moral society adheres to absolute truths of right and wrong, or it breaks down without this solid foundation… as we now see with a preferential treatment of criminals being put back out on the street where they are free to commit crimes again, by not holding them truly responsible and accountable for their criminal acts.
    We should certainly be cognizant and tolerant of others’ opinions or beliefs, respecting our differences… but, that does not mean we have to tolerate rude or foul language, or abusive, bullying, or violent and criminal behavior.  Tolerance is not freedom to persist in traveling down a wrong path.  There are consequences for everything we do... and there is a time and place for speaking out respectfully against inappropriate words or actions. 
    So where did tolerance go?  Too often, it seems tolerance is relegated to that which accepts and promotes a particular politically-correct agenda to the exclusion and canceling of the opposing view and person… regarding differing perspectives as not having validity to be respected. What happened to our ability to show respect through appropriate discussion? What happened to Freedom of Speech? Why the hate-filled, foul-worded, disrespectful language?  Why violence with riots and destruction, or angry rhetoric to disallow conservative or religious speakers, even on college campuses?  What is there to be afraid of… that others might actually have valid points of truth, different from your own perspective and agenda?
    Fear of a differing opinion by engaging in anger and wrath toward that with which one disagrees serves no viable purpose.  We have heard mobs calling for their rights or else violence will ensue… while proclaiming how tolerant and justified they are.  Seems to me that violence as a coercive bully tactic is anything but tolerance.  Perhaps it would be wise to observe that true tolerance… the courtesy to listen, even agreeing to disagree in appropriate discourse… comes by respecting another’s viewpoint, their freedom of speech, without the backlash of vitriolic speech and/or destructive violence.
    When morality steps up and extends a hand in true respect, we’re living out the ancient Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:1-17). Given by God to Moses for the Jewish nation during its exodus from centuries of Egyptian slavery, these words still serve us well as a moral foundation for life even in today’s modern society.  Doing our best to live out Jesus’ words in what we call the Golden Rule, we show great love and respect for others… “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you…” (Matthew 7:12 NIV) – just as we wish to be treated.  With this love, and acceptance of those with whom we disagree, we embody Christ’s love, for “love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.”  (I Corinthians 13:6 NIV)
    Tolerance
    Linda A. Roorda
    ~
    Could I but live a life that was safe
    I wouldn’t question the wrongs encountered.
    I would not wrestle with problems I face
    Or troubles inherent with consequent strife.
    ~
    For if I the bad from this life expunged
    I’d then have left the best for display.
    My life would exist by my design
    For my benefit and pleasure alone.
    ~
    Remove the memories and mask the failures
    Fashion the remains to what I deem fit.
    Let visible be selfish ambition
    My life according to myself and me.
    ~
    I have no tolerance for views but mine
    My way is right and suspect is yours.
    I demand my way and fight you I will
    If only to prove entitled am I.
    ~
    Yet what I now see is your hand held out
    Bearing a gift, tolerance by name.
    You’ve come to my aid and lift me up
    To help me stand with dignity tall.
    ~
    There’s a price, you see, for this freedom shared
    It’s a cost in red that flowed for us all.
    And it grants relief from oppression’s fist
    That your words and mine comingle in peace.
    ~~
  19. Linda Roorda
    Idols - we all have them... we just may not realize it.  Idols are anything or anyone which takes precedence over our relationship with God.  And yes, I have them, too.  We tend to see the obvious idols in the "things" we clutch closely... especially that which we enjoy doing or collecting - like our hobbies, collectable antiques, our "toys,” and even people.  They fill a void within us and give us an emotional high… for a while.  None of these are evil in and of themselves, but it’s where and how we put the emphasis on them that makes the difference.
    An idol can also be to whom or where we run when we’re dealing with a problem, rather than turning first to our Lord in prayer.  How often don't we fret and worry, feel sorry for ourselves, and take our pain or loss to nurture it and feed it with a selfish pity party.  Once again, I've been there and stand guilty.
    Coddling our idols is also an easy trap to fall into.  We want what we deserve, and we deserve the best!  Or so we think… But that philosophy is misguided, for there is only One who deserves our best.  “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’  The second is this:  ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  There is no commandment greater than these.”  (Mark 12:30-31 NIV)  And I admit I am not able to unequivocally meet these godly expectations.
    After writing this poem in 2015, and editing it, I re-read it in its entirety … and nearly burst into tears… for many reasons.  First, because the words touched my heart deeply for their depth of truth.  I firmly believe God gives me the words, and each poem is a moving emotional experience while writing, though some more so than others.
    And second, I wondered why the words for a happy, joyful, praise-filled poem wasn’t coming to mind.  Why did the words that flowed from my brain and out through my fingers once again contemplate our sin? 
    As I verbalized these thoughts to my husband, Ed, he said, “But your poem is the story of our lives.  We are sinners, and God does take us from rags to glory.  And that really is something to be writing praises about!”  
    It’s often felt or said that Christians talk too much about sin.  Yet, knowing that the Apostle Paul wrote in Romans 3:23 that we “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God”, it is then we begin to understand that acknowledging we really do sin in so many ways is key.  For in that understanding, it’s also reassuring to know that when we go to God and “…confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (I John 1:9).
    What a blessing to trust in a faithful Lord who isn’t offended by our wayward feet.  He simply loves us deeply while drawing us back to Himself… no matter our sins, our tattered rags… as He washes us clean!  
    From Rags to Glory
    Linda A. Roorda  
    When someday I stand before You, my Lord
    What will You see of my earthly life?
    Will You see rags, the tatters of sin
    Or will I be cleansed, washed pure by the Lamb?
     
    Yet for a while we proudly proclaim
    My will!  My way!  The cry of our hearts.
    We live a life in defense of self
    To gain the best this world can offer.
     
    A sense of pleasure in idols we make
    To soothe our hurts and meet our desires.
    But what we crave in comforts and perks
    Cannot appease the soul’s deepest need.
     
    Then what will fill this void in my soul?
    What could ever control all my steps?
    Could it be true that Your word speaks clear
    To guide and direct feet that stray from You?
     
    Help me to leave the past behind,
    Help me to walk with You at my side.
    Guide all my thoughts, my words and my deeds
    Create in me a heart of pure love.
     
    For there is nothing I could ever do
    That Your greatest gift won’t cover with peace
    As long as humbly I seek you in faith
    And with contrition gain mercy and grace.
     
    As You draw me near with welcoming arms
    To embrace Your child with a love divine
    I see the filth of sin’s tattered rags
    Fall gently away for a gleaming white robe.
    ~~
  20. Linda Roorda

    Lord, Take My Hand

    By Linda Roorda,

    The words of this poem flew quickly from thoughts to paper several years ago, essentially as a prayer, asking the Lord to take me and use me… to guide me on the right path that I may bless others and not ignore a need… asking that He help me to remain faithful, to rely on His word to guide my life…
    With the passing of Queen Elizabeth II of England this past Thursday (September 8, 2022) at age 96, I was surprised and pleased to hear how much she treasured her relationship with Jesus, her Lord… and how much she relied on Him and His wisdom to guide her during her reign of 70 years... an amazing monarch, beloved by so many, including us Americans across the Pond. 
    I cannot imagine the strain she must have felt at a young age when her father became king following the abdication of his brother. She knew she would someday become queen. Yet, as she faced life during and after WWII, with its difficulties then and beyond, Elizabeth was not crushed in spirit.  She had an inner strength, a sense of duty with old fashioned values of grace, elegance, and respect… a beloved “Grannie” to not only her family but others.
    Putting her faith and trust in God to lead her through the many storms of life, as queen she prayed that “God may give me wisdom and strength to carry out the solemn promises I shall be making, and that I may faithfully serve Him and you, all the days of my life.” (Christmas 1952 address) … “For me, the teachings of Christ and my own personal accountability before God provide a framework in which I try to lead my life,” she said in 2000. “I, like so many of you, have drawn great comfort in difficult times from Christ’s words and example.”
    In a similar vein, after writing my poem below, it reminded me of the old hymn, “Take My Life and Let It Be,” another favorite from childhood.  “Take my life and let it be, consecrated, Lord, to thee; take my hands and let them move at the impulse of Thy love, at the impulse of Thy love.”  Written in 1874 by Frances R. Havergal, this hymn began as her own prayer to the Lord that He would use her to reach others.
    Born in 1836 in England, Frances was a gifted child.  She had learned to read before the age of 3, and was writing poetry by age 7.  She was capable of memorizing lengthy sections of Scripture, knew several languages, and was a gifted pianist and singer.  Unfortunately, her mother died when Frances was 11, leaving her with these parting words, “Fanny dear, pray God prepare you for all He is preparing for you.”  And, with those words, her life-long prayer was to reach others with the love of God.
    We are pulled in so many directions every day. There is so much going on around us in life, while we keep all too busy in our own little world.  Preoccupied with our own situations and needs, we often forget the needs of others… I know I do.  As these words came to me, I realized that I need to ask the Lord to take charge of my life... to take my hand, my voice, my eyes, my ears, my feet… essentially all of me, that I would be open to seeing and meeting the needs of others while walking in His will, sharing His love.
    Take my hand, Lord… walk with me, and lead me on… 
    Lord, Take My Hand
    Linda A. Roorda
    Lord, take my hand and walk with me
    Lead me on and show me the way
    And let me know You’re my companion
    You’ll never leave, You’ll always protect.
    ~
    Lord, take my voice that I may yet speak
    Treasures of grace in praise of mercy,
    As I delight in Your wisdom’s depths
    May all my words reflect back to You.
    ~
    Lord, take my eyes and bless my vision
    As I encounter those different from me
    May I now see the world through Your eyes
    That I may seek to reach out in love.
    ~
    Lord, take my ears and grant I may hear
    The pleas for help, the cries from the heart
    May Your tender voice guide all my actions
    That with compassion others I may bless.
    ~
    Lord, take my feet and guide all my steps
    Grant me wisdom on this path of life
    Keep my feet from straying aside
    Hold accountable the way that I take.
    ~
    Lord, take my soul and cover with grace
    That I may rejoice in Your salvation,
    For the cleansing flood that washed over me
    Has created faith that trusts in You.
    ~
    Lord, take my heart and fill me with joy
    Share with me Your endless love
    That I may then to others extend
    Your precious peace with bountiful praise.
    ~~
  21. Linda Roorda

    The Broken String

    By Linda Roorda,

    I cannot even begin to say “thank you” enough for all the kindness in the many caring words in cards and in person, the shared tears, meals, memories and laughter, and thoughts and prayers family and friends have showered upon me and my family in the loss of our Ed – husband, Pop, Gramps, brother, cousin, uncle, and friend. Thank you to everyone who came to the calling hours and memorial service yesterday, you deeply touched our hearts - including the surprise to see my niece and her family who traveled from Tennessee, and our friends, our late Jenn’s dear in-laws, who drove down from Maine – we shall never forget their kindness in being here with us. Thanks to my daughter for finding the direct contact person at the newspaper headquarters who so kindly amended Ed’s online obituaries to include our Jenn’s name as having predeceased him, because… in all the upheaval, I forgot to include my own daughter. All the offers of help in so many ways are greatly appreciated. I’m still looking around to find Ed, wondering why he’s not holding onto my arm, but I’ll be ok and know Ed is rejoicing in heaven’s glory with perfect vision!
    Each one of us encounters failures and losses in life.  Each one of us encounters disabilities in ourselves or those around us.  But it’s what we do with, and how we react to, all that comes our way that makes a difference... in our lives and in the lives of others.  We can carry on with selfish pride in what we can do, we can roll over in defeat at failure... or we can face the challenge in humility, asking God to guide us along a broken and difficult path.
    For 27 years (from 1982 to 2009), we burned wood to heat our house.  When my husband, Ed, farmed with his dad, he cut his own firewood with a chainsaw despite very limited vision.  Came the day, though, that Ed lost the balance of his limited vision and was completely blind.  He could no longer use a chainsaw after just a few years, later had to stop using an axe to split wood, and it remained to be seen how he would handle the other obstacles that faced him after becoming totally blind. 
    Initially, he went through a difficult transition and grieving process, common to all with any serious loss.  None of us knew how best to handle the change.  It was a learn-as-you-go process until we found professional guidance specifically for the blind at A.V.R.E. in Binghamton, NY and The Carroll Center for the Blind in Newton, MA.  And then, his old self rose up to meet the challenges, determined to do whatever he could to face whatever came his way… with a catch.
    As he stacked firewood one day without any remaining fragments of light and color to guide him, the rows kept collapsing.  He simply could not get the pieces of wood to fit together well enough to stay in neat upright rows.  In utter frustration, he sat down and put his head in his hands, feeling like an utter failure.  All of his life he’d had to struggle with limited vision, being classified legally blind from infancy on.  He struggled in the classroom, not being able to see the board, often refusing to ask for help.  He wanted to be just like everyone else.
    Most of us can tackle any activity, job or hobby with ease.  But Ed was denied what he longed to do… he couldn’t play football or basketball with his 6’7” height.  He could swim like a pro, but wasn’t allowed on the team for fear he’d hurt himself or others if he strayed from his lane.  Instead, the coach made him manager of their state division championship team from Warwick, NY.  But, at other times, peers mocked and belittled him.  Why couldn’t he be accepted just for who he was?  Why did everything have to be so hard?  Why couldn’t life be easier and simpler… like it was for everyone else?  It wasn’t fair, he thought.
    Yet, he had accomplished so much with so little for so many years!  He could milk the cows, climb the silos, drive tractor and do all the field work except plant corn, and that was only because he couldn’t see where the last row left off.  With his limitations, he knew to be extra cautious and it always paid off.  But, now it seemed that even this last bit of enjoyment in stacking firewood was being taken from him, too. 
    Except, while sitting there, with the wood he’d stacked falling down, he decided to pray and ask God for help in this seemingly simple, but now very challenging task.  He prayed that God would guide each piece of wood he picked up so it would fit and the rows wouldn’t fall down… so that he could stack the wood himself without having to ask yet again for more help.  As he stood up and once again picked up the firewood, he soon realized that every piece he stacked fit… well, actually, fit perfectly!  When he was done, his rows stood straight and tall without collapsing! 
    And then he began hearing comments from neighbors who marveled at how great his stacked firewood looked.  By a man who couldn’t see, no less!  As Ed told anyone who commented, “It wasn’t me; it was God.”  It was only after he prayed each time before he picked up the first piece of wood that he was able to manage this seemingly impossible task.  But, if he forgot and just delved right in to stacking, the wood invariably collapsed… until he sat down and had a little talk with God.
    My poem below is reminiscent of a story floating around the internet of violinist Itzhak Perlman performing with a broken violin string.  Though that feat was unable to be confirmed by reliable sources, the concept is worthy of illustrating our brokenness in disability.  Another young man, Niccolo` Paganini, was an Italian child prodigy who played mandolin and violin from ages 5 and 7 respectively.  Supposedly, he once played with three broken strings, refusing to allow the handicap to end his serenade.  Paganini excelled in part because of Marfan’s Syndrome which gave him his height and extra long fingers, a genetic syndrome also found in both of our families.  The elasticity of joints and tissues allowed Paganini the flexibility to bend and extend his fingers beyond the norm as he used the disability to his benefit.
    Like Ed and others with disabilities, we can either resent our situation or we can have a little talk with God, asking Him to guide us through whatever we face. 
    The Broken String
    Linda A. Roorda 
    Four strings create beautiful music
    Perfection in pitch, magnificent tone
    All they expect, not asking for more
    Performing with pride just as it should be.
     
    Pulling the bow across the taut strings
    Gently at first, then faster I stroke
    The symphonic sound brings tears to their eyes
    This is my gift to their list’ning ears.
     
    Closing my eyes to the beauty of sound
    Caressing the strings, deep feelings evoked
    From graceful and light to dramatic and rich
    Till one string popped, now what shall I do?
     
    Adversity gives a chance to prove worth
    As now I’ve lost a string that flails free.
    In silence all eyes are riveted on me;
    Would I be angry or would I accede?
     
    Silently I prayed, God give me the strength
    I’ve been disabled, humbled before all.
    Help me I pray to carry on well
    Let them now see You working through me.
     
    Adjusting my bow and fingers for sound
    Quickly I learned to amend my strokes,
    As to my ears a beautiful tune
    Emanates yet while focused on God.
     
    When the finale at last had arrived
    With a soft sigh I played my last note,
    And as it faded they rose to their feet
    With wild applause from their hearts to mine.
     
    Perhaps it was all intended to reach
    This attitude of pride within myself.
    A lesson was learned in how to react,
    Adversity’s gift to sink or to soar.
     
    For without You what does my life mean?
    What value is placed on my outward skills?
    Do You not, Lord, see deep in my heart
    Where my soul reflects my pride or Your grace?
     
    My attitude then a choice I must make
    Embrace gratitude or sink in despair.
    For I cannot change what happens to me
    Instead, I’ll play while focused on You.
     
    Humility grows by resigning pride
    As a broken string reflects trials of life.
    Others I’ll serve as You did for me
    For in You is found the selfless way of life.
    ~~
    05/31/14
    ~
    An abridged version of the following reflection was published in “Breaking Barriers” in March 2016, a publication of the Christian Reformed and Reformed Church in America Disability Concerns Ministries.
     
  22. Linda Roorda
    With another school year beginning, I was reminded of my own school days a few many years ago.  
    Thinking back to the start of the school season when my kids were young, brings me back to my own childhood.  I attended Public School #15 for kindergarten in Clifton, NJ, and  two small Christian schools for elementary - East Palmyra Christian School for 1st through half of 4th, and then Passaic Christian School for the second half of 4th through 6th grade.
    After my family moved back to Clifton, NJ from East Palmyra, NY when I was in fourth grade, there was a verse which was our prayer at the close of every school day during 5th and 6th grades at Passaic Christian School.  Under Mrs. Marie (Rev. Dick, Sr.) Oostenink, we memorized many Scripture passages, including this prayer: “May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart, be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, My strength and my redeemer.”  (Psalm 19:14 KJV) 
    It was a prayer that had settled itself in my mind though, admittedly, I had not always valued its place in my life.  Still, it has often come to my thoughts over the years, reminding me of the few years at that school and the friends I’d made.  But it also reminds me that, just like we as youngsters need training and guidance, so do we as adults need reminders at times.  We often hear of negatives spread by gossip.  Maybe we tell half-truths or outright lies to make ourselves look better to others, think we can hide behind electronic gadgets while taunting, or allow our thoughts to travel beyond the appropriate.
    Owning my own frustrations when overwhelmed, I’ve spoken words in haste, words regretted, words apologized for.  I could have found a better way to express myself, to affirm the right way to handle difficult situations with God’s loving words as guide. 
    In apologizing and asking forgiveness from others, we also go to our Lord in confession, receiving forgiveness from Him.  It doesn’t matter what we’ve done, or where we’ve been.  As we humble ourselves, He accepts our confession and guides us on our path forward… so that our words, our thoughts, and our actions will bless others and bring honor to Him.
    Because, when the words and meditations of our heart contemplate praise and thanksgiving, we bless someone who might be hurting… sharing joy and laughter together from the depths of our heart… even shedding tears for a friend’s loss or difficulty… simply letting them know how much we care. 
    For “…whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything is worthy of praise, dwell on these things.”  (Philippians 4:8 NASB)
    Often, we have no idea how our words and actions affect others now or in the future.  But, as we endeavor to speak and meditate on what is worthy and acceptable to our Lord and Redeemer, we will be a blessing to those around us. 
    Meditations of My Heart
    Linda A. Roorda
    The years have shown me to value Your love
    A love that seems deeper than when I was young.
    But sometimes the trials that life brings to bear
    Cause my heart to tire with weakness exposed.
    ~
    It doesn’t matter who I am now
    From where I’ve been You accept me still
    Your arms open wide with an eternal love
    As I say thank You for blessing my soul.
    ~
    Thank you for guiding my life on this path
    Thank you for saving my soul from sin’s wrath.
    Thank you for words which praise your great name
    Though I am prone to wander away.
    ~
    Thank you for calling me gently back home
    Back to your side with mercy and grace.
    Thank you for blessing my soul with your peace
    With praises to sing for loving me so.
    ~
    For Lord you hold me in the palm of your hand
    Sovereign and loving, protecting and guiding.
    Yet what can I give to the One with all?
    Showers of love to those all around.
    ~
    As I press onward to a higher goal
    Walking Your path to follow Your lead
    With praise and honor for You, my Lord
    In all that I do and all that I say.
    ~
    And “May the words of my mouth
    and the meditations of my heart
    Be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord,
    My strength and my redeemer.”
    (Psalm 19:14)
    Artwork photo attached sketched by Linda A. Roorda 1986.
  23. Linda Roorda
    Today, I’m sharing something close to my heart.  I’ve shared this before, but it bears repeating because I am not alone.  Tourette Syndrome Awareness Month is May 15 to June 15, with the annual Tourette Syndrome Awareness Day on June 7, 2023.  Tourette Syndrome was named for a French neurologist, Dr. Georges Gilles de la Tourette.  He was the first to describe children and adults with specific tic movements in 1884, publishing his study about this syndrome in 1885.
    I’ve had Tourette’s since age 10-11, starting within a year after my family moved from farms in upstate New York to city life in Clifton, New Jersey… the city where I was born and my dad grew up.  It was an extremely emotional, disruptive time in my life to leave behind my close friends and the country life I loved… and preferred.
    Always believing it was that stress which precipitated my tics, I now understand there is often a genetic component, though I have no idea who may have had it in any older generation.  Most of my life I was embarrassed and ashamed to admit I had Tourette’s.  Nor did my parents know what to do about it.  I was initially mocked, and quickly learned to hide or camouflage the tics with movements that wouldn’t be as readily obvious.  I am constantly “on alert”.  Though I can generally successfully “hide” the tics, or so I think, they have to have an out and are worse when I’m away from the public eye or under stress.
    I’ve called the tics “my habit”, but never had a diagnosis until reading a letter in a Dear Abby or Ann Landers column in my early 20s.  Self-diagnosing from the apt description in that letter and response by the columnist, I felt such a relief to give my affliction a name!  Still, I only shared this information with my husband and closest family.  Though embarrassed and ashamed to see myself with tic movements in a family video, I have not let Tourette’s control my life or employment.  I was also afraid of passing it on to my children, but I wanted and was blessed with a family.  I’m aware of the tics, and am able to control them… but only somewhat.  And I’m also thankful they are considered “simple” tics. 
    Just as I’ve been ashamed of my movements, so my late husband was ashamed of being legally blind growing up.  (He read and approved this when I initially wrote it.)  He couldn’t see the school blackboard with his limited vision, even sitting in the front row, and would not ask for the help he needed.  Kids don’t want to be different from their peers.  When they have a noticeable difference, they are too often teased or mocked like my husband was, and become ashamed of who they are… sometimes with devastating effects, like suicide.  It’s up to us as adults, and even children, to be aware of the issues that others around us are dealing with.  If we provide support, acceptance, and encouragement, we will see ourselves for who we truly are - uniquely created in the image of God, and very loved.
    While subbing one day, I was surprised by a young student who kindly asked, “Do you have Tourette’s?”  Seeing no point in denying the obvious to those sweet innocent eyes, I replied, “Yes, I do.  But how do you know about Tourette’s?”  She’d watched a show.  As kids often do, they talked amongst themselves and others began asking me questions.  This led to their teacher setting aside time so I could share what I knew about living with Tourette’s.  I answered their many questions with several adding they knew someone with Tourette’s, too!  It was an informative session, endearing these students to me for their kindness and understanding.  They simply accepted me for who I am, just as I accept each of them.
    Tourette Syndrome is one type of tic disorder, meeting certain medical criteria of involuntary, repetitive movements and vocalizations, lasting for specific lengths of time.  My “simple” tics include, but are not limited to, sudden brief, repetitive movements of certain muscle groups like hard eye blinking or scrunching (the first symptom for most, including myself), facial, mouth, and head movements, shoulder shrugging, arm, hand and finger movements, head and shoulder jerking, leg and foot movements, throat clearing, repeating words or phrases verbally (or in my mind), and more.  I have an arthritic bony prominence of my collarbone from decades-long shoulder shrugs, and thoracic spine pain/arthritis from prior movements.  Tics wax and wane, change muscle groups at whim, and become worse under stress.
    Though the tics have never gone away, they often subside, albeit briefly, when I’m fully absorbed in something like singing, sleeping or designing paintings.  Totally absorbed while playing intently with my toddler son years ago, my step-mother commented that my tics had totally stopped during that brief window of time.  That was the first time I realized there really were times when “my habit” stopped!
    Tourette Syndrome is a neurodevelopmental disorder with typical onset in childhood or adolescence.  Chemical imbalances in the brain, environmental factors, or genetics are considered causative factors.  There is no cure, but there are some treatment options.  About 35 years ago, I was officially diagnosed by a neurologist and prescribed medication.  Unfortunately, taking just half a pill of the smallest dose, the dopey side effect for me was much worse than dealing with the tics, so I declined further medication.
    I do not have “complex” tics which include distinct patterns with multiple muscles and movements, hopping and twirling, head banging, and more.  Vocal tics can include sniffing, throat clearing, shouting, saying words or phrases, and repeating what was heard.  Though swearing and unacceptable language are found in a small percentage of Tourette cases, the media often describes coprolalia as a more common symptom.  My heart goes out to those with this more severe and disruptive range of tics, some of whom may qualify for disability benefits.  Many with Tourette’s also have other diagnoses including obsessive-compulsive disorder, hyperactivity (possibly me), attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder, and learning disabilities. 
    Guidepost magazine once featured contemporary Christian music singer, Jamie Grace, sharing her diagnosis of Tourette’s.  Reading the article about her, I burst into tears just to know that someone else has it, but has not let it stop her from living a full life, too.  I always felt so alone, never knowing anyone else with Tourette’s until I opened up about it a few years ago on Facebook.
    Looking at this from God’s perspective, I find it comforting to know He sees me for who I am, Tourette’s and all.  He has a greater purpose for our lives as we bring honor and glory to Him in all that we do, even with our limitations.  Often, as we go through the trials of life, that’s when we learn how to trust and rely on the Lord the best.  In overcoming our own problems, God uses us and our difficult circumstances to reach others who may be dealing with similar issues, bringing love and comfort to them in a way that is as unique as we are each gifted individually.
    To learn more about Tourette Syndrome and how to handle the emotional and physical challenges, go to their website:  https://tourette.org/  Read shared personal stories at: Home | Mytourette.org
  24. Linda Roorda

    Seasons of Change

    By Linda Roorda,

    I love the change of seasons.  But it almost seems to happen while our backs are turned and we’re not quite paying attention.  Like this fall.  Suddenly, we realize the leaves are turning colors, the weather is cooling down, winds are getting brisker, and fall is here for sure.  Many birds who had been singing all summer while they cared for their nestlings have hushed their songs and, a month or more ago, prepared to take off on their migratory routes for warmer climates. 
    Some friends have told me that fall is their favorite season.  Though it is not my favorite, autumn does hold beautiful bright colors in the changing leaves, cooler temperatures, tangy aroma of woodsmoke in the air, leaves gently fluttering down, the fragrance of pumpkin and fresh-picked apples baked into scrumptious pies, and the satisfaction of having canned tomatoes, fruits and veggies, and maybe pickles which fill the pantry shelves.  I enjoyed all the gardening, canning and freezing years ago to supply our family during the winter months, and savor the memories.  I also love the farm smells of fresh chopped corn, the pungent smell of good silage, and getting a good whiff of hay brought down from the mow. 
    And then winter descends with its shorter and darker days.  The birds who stay behind to endure the cold and snowy onslaught easily find feeders filled with favorite seeds.  Unfortunately, back in 2013 when this was originally written, I came to a tough decision and stopped feeding my birds year around, a first after 30 years.  I do miss my birds, though, with their constant twitter brightening the dark and cloudy days.  I also miss seeing the variety of birds during their migratory flights.  There would be great excitement in searching through my “Birds of North America” by Fred Alsop, finding new birds to add to my list as they stopped in for a snack on their way south or the return trip north.
    I love the first snowfalls which create a magic and beautiful white landscape.  I enjoy the beauty of a wet snow as it clings to every branch, every nook and cranny, but not when it brings those limbs or wires down.  And I will also readily admit that soon after the new year I am ready to be done with snow and cold weather, though a long stretch still remains ahead.  I remember an ice storm years ago, after which my birds attempted to dine on seeds splayed out on the ice.  Gingerly walking up an ice-covered slope of snow, they’d go sliding back down, virtually every time.  It was humorous, and I could only wonder if they were as entertained as I was!  Hey, Woodstock!  Look at me…whee!!!
    As the wintry days gradually become longer, I look forward to spring - my favorite season bringing new life, new growth, and fresh-earth smells as creation’s beauty comes alive.  I love to watch the swelling green buds open daily until the full leaf emerges, having passed through several shades of green, and to watch flower buds mature into beautiful flowers, bringing color back to a dull and grayed world.  There is also nothing quite like spring’s earthy smell, especially when the soil is turned over to plant a crop.  What my husband misses most from farming is climbing up on his big green Oliver, carefully turning the soil over with the plow, and easing the dead furrow over to plow each field just right.  When his plow turned over large flat rocks, he’d take the time to stop, pick them up, and bring them home that evening for me to build garden walls.
    I also find great joy in watching the birds return in the spring, setting out sugar-water feeders for hummingbirds and grape jelly for orioles.  Every year I wait with anticipation for the very first robin to arrive in our yard.  Our kids always knew it was spring for real when they heard Mother call out, “It’s a robin!”  They’re soon followed by bluebirds, tree swallows and house sparrows all vying for a favorite nesting box among several in our yard.  And with eager anticipation, we wait to catch a glimpse of nestlings as they fledge, and watch as the parents bring their youngsters to the feeders.
    And then, almost without realizing it, spring has become summer with its sunny warmth to brighten our days.  We’ve planted vegetable gardens to reap a harvest, and flowers to appreciate their beauty, once again enjoying warm and sunny days outdoors, as autumn’s cooler weather returns and trees turn brilliant colors, while shortened hours of daylight and geese honking loudly high above in their long V formations herald the arrival of winter’s cold and blustery days of stark bare tree limbs midst a gently falling mantle of white.  And so, the seasons change… year after year… 
    Seasons of Change
    Linda A. Roorda
    It happened one day
    When we were not looking
    The passage of spring
    That bloomed into summer
    As bright sunny days
    Slid down into fall
    While leaves gently turned
    Bright colorful hues
    And changes of autumn
    Faded slowly away
    When blustery fronts
    Blew briskly on through
    From down off the barren
    Arctic cold slopes
    Leaving behind
    A little reminder
    Of all the cool fun
    About to begin
    When flakes of pure white
    Float gently down
    Reminding us that surely
    As seasons still change
    The dark gloomy days
    Will soon spring forward
    Bursting with abundant life!
     
  25. Linda Roorda

    Seeking You

    By Linda Roorda,

    Yesterday, my husband was in the E.R. yet again, with difficulty breathing and clearing his lungs from fluid buildup in a long-term battle with congestive heart failure. Every day is a struggle for him, just as it is for so many others around us.  A year ago, I shared this blog from my longer speech at a Women's Faith Retreat in 2014.  I need to be reminded of my own words, and of God's faithfulness in so many ways. Thinking others might need the comfort in knowing God truly is there at our side, I decided to share this again.  And may you be blessed in whatever difficulties you are facing today...
    In December 2021, I wrote: This past week, my husband Ed was in the hospital a few days for worsening congestive heart failure causing pulmonary issues with his COPD. And then, multi-tasking, running in a gazillion directions at once, I walked nose first in the dark into an open door I’d forgotten to close. Thankfully it wasn’t broken, just wounded. Ed is “ok” but continues to struggle with activities of daily living, as exercise-induced shortness of breath and weakness take over… just as frustration and learning to accept more limitations within his many diagnoses affect us both.
    Knowing we are definitely not alone among so many others in facing various trials and tribulations, I re-read the words below taken from my larger essay written in 2014.  Nothing can separate us from the love of God when we deal with the difficulties of life… and I needed to be reminded of that, too.  For God is still here, guiding us each step of the way.
    I was asked to speak at a local women of faith retreat in December 2014 on their theme, “Wise Men Still Seek Him.”  It was an honor to have been asked to share my life’s faith testimony, but it was also a humbling experience to open my heart in a “public” venue.  It’s entirely different from writing poems and reflections “behind the scenes” for my blog, Poetic Devotions.
    While God has graciously given me more understanding and wisdom gained over a lifetime of spiritual growth, He has also continued to draw me into a deeper faith through all of life’s ups and downs.  This may not seem like a Christmas type message, but without the birth of our Savior, who would we seek when times get tough?  My prayer is that God will use these words taken from my larger speech to bless your heart.
    I’m the oldest of six children, blessed to be born into a Christian family, albeit a somewhat dysfunctional and fractured family, with my father divorcing my mother not long after I married. There was never a time I did not know about Jesus from church, Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, and Christian elementary school. At 14, having moved 15 times, and to a new school district for the fifth time, saying I had no friends, my father reminded me that as a little girl I would say Jesus was my best friend. Ouch! I’d forgotten that!
    At 15, I recognized my need for Jesus as my Savior and asked Him into my heart. Still, I did not seek God and His will as I should have during my late teens.  Yet, it’s in knowing that when I seek the Lord with my confession and repentance, He forgives me and wipes my slate clean for “…as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.” (Ps.103:12 NIV)
    I was married at 19 to Edward in October 1974, waiting until the fall crops were in.  Celebrating our 47th anniversary this past fall, I look back and see how immature I was.  But I also look back and see how faithful the Lord has been, always beside me, guiding and drawing me closer to Himself, giving me a husband whose love, insight, and wisdom have met my needs.
    Like other young couples, Ed and I thought we’d live happily ever after without problems. Instead, like so many others, our life together seems to have been one struggle after another, though it’s how we react and what we learn that makes a difference. There was a time years ago when I did not understand that… when I felt lost, questioned whether I was truly saved, not knowing how to accept or learn from problems sent my way.  But the Lord took the wounds and scars in my life and turned them into blessings as He helped me grow spiritually through those tough times.
    Admittedly, it’s been the journey of a lifetime learning to seek God, to listen to His still small voice and nudges within my heart.  Sometimes His message is loud and clear.  Sometimes God is quiet and doesn’t seem to hear my prayers, with no clear answers, no direction, no healings.  Yet, it’s in those times that I remind myself to keep moving forward in faith knowing that God is with each of us through the tears and difficulties, not just the best of times, for “…we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  (Romans 8:28 NIV)
    Despite my share of struggles and failures when I take the reins instead of allowing God to have control, I can honestly say, as I look back, that it’s also been through the toughest days that God has blessed me in many ways.  Sometimes I long for a quiet simple life, one without any difficulties.  But that is not the life given to me.  I need to rest knowing that He is in control.  He uses our struggles to teach us, to draw us closer to Himself, and to reach others through struggles we go through.  He understands what we face and allows our difficulties in order to help mold us into the person He wants us to become.  And I can’t help but wonder if I would have grown spiritually if I had never faced the various trials sent my way. 
    For God does not heal us of our problems the way we want just because we pray for healing.  Literally being told that Ed was not healed of his blindness because we were not praying right, or that we should pray certain ways for healing, set dangerous tones of self-centeredness, not seeking or accepting God’s will.  As we scroll through Scripture, we find that Paul sought the Lord three times to be healed of his “thorn in the flesh.”  Instead of healing, he heard the Lord say, “’My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness…’” and Paul responded by saying “That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weakness… for when I am weak, then I am strong.” (II Corinthians 12:9-10 NIV) Yet, Ed and I know how hard it is to live out those words of faith when we have not seen the healing we prayed for.
    So, it’s the Lord’s wisdom I seek to guide my steps, to direct my path, to cover me with mercy when I am weak and fail yet again.  And when I’m so often stressed to the max by life and its busyness, I find He is there, even in the mundane.  He’s teaching me to seek Him… to lean on Him… giving me peace and contentment in the turbulence.  In this, I can find satisfaction doing what He expects of me even when it’s not the easiest path nor the direction I want to go.  For our walk of faith takes us to new dimensions with Christ that we would not have known without those difficulties.
    As the Lord has drawn me and Ed closer to Himself, He has strengthened our faith, taught us forgiveness and patience under his grace and mercy, and carried us when we feel so overwhelmed.  He has been with us through days when we wondered why it seemed He wasn’t answering our prayers… when we lost our two unborn babies, later giving birth to three beautiful healthy children; when Ed, a premature twin who was legally blind from pure oxygen in the incubator, went to an eye doctor for vision issues, told to quit farming that day, had 9-hr retinal/eye surgery, and I had to find a job; long-term effects of my undiagnosed PTSD from past abuse; my Tourette’s syndrome since age 10; when our son was diagnosed with a rare congenital heart situation needing an implanted defibrillator; when our oldest daughter died at age 25 from an undiagnosed heart abnormality; when Ed went to The Carroll Center for the Blind for training, then lost his job as customer service rep after 9/11, telling God he’d tried everything he could to find work, putting it in God’s hands to find him a job – and God answered him with a new job when the company’s owner knocked on our door to ask what Ed could do for them! When I had multiple neck fusions, back and hand surgeries, an autoimmune disorder (pulmonary sarcoidosis) with severe IBS necessitating a very restricted diet, and breast cancer. When Ed had permanent statin drug muscle damage needing multiple surgeries to repair torn cartilage in knees and shoulder from struggling to stand from sitting, neck fusion, a brain shunt causing seizures, unrelenting pain and dizziness since 2008, severe congestive heart failure, COPD on chronic asthma, diabetes; and much more I’m not going to list… But now, retired, I’ve been blessed with a sub position in our local public schools, hoping to make a difference in the lives of local youngsters.
    Through it all, God showered us with love in answering our prayers in ways that best fit His plan.  As my friend Natalie wrote, “God does not always reward faith with blessings.  He allows our faith to undergo challenges - to be tried through a fiery testing.”  Job, Paul and James all speak of God knowing our path through trials as we persevere in faith and wait on God’s timing, as hard as that is at times.
    And in seeking Jesus this Christmas season, may we each find Him in the humblest of places within our heart… not in the rich embellishments and trappings which boldly confront us.  May we find Him in serving others with a heart of love, even the least among us… in caring for the hurting souls among the noisy din of humanity. 
    Then, wherever love is needed, may we reach out to reveal Christ among us, and know the gift of His strength and comfort, and hope and peace in the midst of life’s turmoil.  For with that peace comes the gift of inner joy because in Matthew 6:33 we are told to “Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
    In this joyous Christmas holiday season as we celebrate the birth of our dear Lord and Savior, may we all remember to wisely seek Him first… whatever comes our way. 
    Seeking You
    Linda A. Roorda 
    Seeking you Lord, Your will in my heart
    Giving all thanks and praise to Your name,
    As Your loving hand with mercy and grace
    Guides through rough seas to calm peaceful shores.
     
    Seeking you Lord, in the dark of night
    When sleep won’t come and dreams bring on fears,
    As I arise to the morning dews
    And greet the sun for a bright new day.
     
    I’m drawn to Your side when cares overwhelm
    Teach me Your ways from words filled with hope.
    Grant me Your peace when life darkens doors
    Guide every step, Your wisdom impart.
     
    With riches great we travel secure
    Thinking we have control of our life,
    But when troubles come we turn quick to you
    Pleading for strength to carry us through.
     
    This strength I seek from Your loving arms
    Moment by moment to face new demands
    With head bent low my prayers rise to You
    To humbly shine Your light from within.
     
    May I ever know You walk alongside
    Guiding my steps and the path that I take
    May words expressed show love to others
    From a heart that seeks your wisdom and truth.
     
    Then may I know Your mercy and grace
    Covers my soul with comforting peace
    Granting wisdom from within Your word
    As I praise Your name and seek Your will first.
    ~~
     
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