Who Do You Say You Are?

Father God has always- ALWAYS been faithful... From the rising of the first sun to the moon's arrival on the horizon as the sun began to set... The stars movements, the cool breeze of the noonday, the gusts of wind, the storms, and even the calm of the weather - Father God has done such since the beginning. He has NEVER missed a beat. Father God is Who He ALWAYS has been and forever will be… However, it is the goal of the enemy to get everyone to doubt his or her identity and so doubt Father God and then to live in fear. It's what satan did to Adam and Eve, Jesus and so with us… Everybody else… With us it only takes small seeds of doubt - that eventually grow deep from the “fertile” soil of this earth to touch our souls… Then sprouts disorientation and then fear… But God! Being IN - immersed - in the Word of God daily is paramount. It’s like being battle ready. If one doesn’t know “who” they are even minimally - having some peace about self - they go through life “trying” out various “selves” to see what “seems right unto themselves” - and so screws self and others - who get mixed up in their search… Woe to those who are trying to be what others say they are… Hence, having the WORD of GOD as one’s foundation is the Bedrock… It’s Truth - God’s Truth. He alone LOVES perfectly and sees who you are! As for me, I am a child of God, a follower of Jesus Christ… Firmly planted in the Word of God. Nina Soli Deo Gloria

"Even in the Shadows" by Nina B.

I walk a tad over a mile to get to Bible study and of course, the same distance to return home. I don’t mind walking, (all the attendees walk - just from varying directions). It’s in the evening and sometimes I get that weirded out feeling, aka fear. The neighborhood has had its share of gang activity, robberies and more - the basic ills of a big city - crime,... Still, I have always believed I am never alone, because my God is with me… One night, as I walked home, on the main street, which is more lit and busier than the residential areas; I had a start, as I saw out of the corner of my eye a shadow. I laughed as I realized it was my own. Father reminded me, I am never alone… He said, “We are always with you”. It was then that I noticed the streetlights casted three shadows at some times and other times one, but as I moved forward and passed streetlights, leaving them behind me, so did my shadows - move… Sometimes at a slant behind me, elongated in front of me, directly to one side of me… Singularly, twos and threes…but always with me because of the light. Likewise, Father is always with me… as close as my breath and even in my shadows. I just need to whisper His name - Jesus, and know that He is with me… with you. Soli Deo Gloria, Nina

"Surely Someone else MUST Have Thought This - "... Because there was no room...""

Today is Nov 22, 2021. I paused before going for my daily walk.(The pic is from a walk from last week). An advent devotional on my table,"Prepare Him Room" by Susie Larson, given by a friend; caught my eye, and so this thought: The stable in which my Savior was born into, literally was and is the condition of the human heart! I know the scripture references as to why there was no rooms in Bethlehem, and why Mary and Joesph ended up in barn, (Luke chapters 1 and 2 a good read to chew upon)... But, so did Father God and I think He likes to use everything to tell His stories and make His points. Of course, I was not in the stable where Jesus was born, however, like most barns anywhere it was anything but pristine - in other words not clean. To be sure there was a dirt floor, complete with bugs, animal dung, half eaten animal feed, (hay, grains, maybe leftover food from the inn given for the animals to finish off - and so maggots). I'm sure the beams/woodwork, gates and stalls were worn, old, weathered. The nails used to hold pieces of wood together were rusted, if they used iron nails. They may have used wooden pegs that may have been broken or burrowed through by termintes... And let's not forget that the barn was dark, OPEN to the elements and public and had ANIMALS... I think you've got the picture. Not a five star Inn. Would Mary have tried to tidy her sleeping quarters - was that a possibility - she was "great with child"? Did Joesph try? They had just traveled some miles for days... I suppose they were both overwhelmed to put it mildly... They both did their best to clean up and settle end for the adventure that was just beginning... But in the barn... Where Jesus the Son of God came into the world... into the heart. Hearts before Jesus are: dark, dirty filled with unwanted vermin, oddly some invited. Without care or concern the heart hardens, breaks, turns cold... Some hearts are so deep in need of repair that people don't even believe they are in need of anything... It is into these hearts, (everyone), that Jesus desires to come. He makes every effort to make a home in such places... He desires to wash such hearts with His very blood - the only thing that can "prepare him room". Jesus is the ONLY ONE who can prepare His room - our hearts. No more could Mary and Joseph prepare the stable for His birth, can we prepare our hearts. It is only Jesus - His grace via His Blood. Soli Deo Gloria, Nina B. I should note: The formatting of this post and others are off! It bothers me a bit that I do not see the paragraphs or breaks I've used prior to pulishing. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but no doubt it's the age of this blog and there was something I was supposed to do a while ago and didn't...But it's ok... :-)

Another Year

Another Year By Nina B.

On the eve of another birthday, I give thanks - always to my Father God… I hear the words of my mother, “You’re not supposed to be here.” She was referencing my near death experience sometime before my first birthday - I had developed double pneumonia as the story goes and children of the fifties and low birth weights didn’t usually survive, but I did… Father God had other plans and I, like everyone, am supposed to accomplish something for Father God’s Kingdom. I remember other near death experiences - the attack of a dog as I walked to St. Dorothy’s Catholic Church for a Girl Scout outing. I remember running across the street in front of a car, falling and then sliding on my hand-sewn plastic mat… I gasped as did others,... my attending angels as well… The rabid dog I think they anticipated… Me running in front of the car took some quick thinking and unseen action… Then there was the one that was seen, some years later - another trip - this time as a high school senior to Jamaica and I was bored with my friends and their antics and I decided to leave the group and went for a walk… in the dark, up a hilly road... with nothing but my Pentax single-lens-reflex camera… I may have had my library card as identification... What was I thinking? Clearly, I was not! At the top of the hill there was a man that I was not afraid of passing, so as I walked passed but he extended his hand and kindly said, “Hey soul sister.” I extended my hand to shake his hand but he held onto my hand, (which did alarm me), and said calmly, “Soul sister, you better get back down the road to your friends.” He didn’t need to say it twice. I didn’t question why, but obeyed. I walked at first, but then skipped into a jog… Turned of course, to look back, but he was gone… Some quick thinking and a seen action… I have written about how Father God takes care of babies and fools… Thank You Father! So on this eve of a not so momentous birthday… I have cause to reflect - which I do often, I just rarely write about any of my thoughts these daze… As a Christ follower, I simply enjoy and give thanks for the quiet and the time to think - I am retired from teaching, but certainly not life… I am very careful about how I spend my time. Remember no one - not one, can buy more time. So, I live my life and days and try to be respectful of others living their lives. I choose to read, do art and go outside and walk for hours everyday and talk and smile at strangers… This is something that many people don’t do anymore, seemingly out of fear… but we all make choices… I have noted as I have gotten older, along with family and friends, and especially those who have died; there are some things I don’t want to be remembered for: Living in fear is definitely at the top of my list. Being known for how clean my house is - to the point of having a museum for a living room. Having things that I couldn’t part with and so holding onto stuff as if it were mine. Leaving people untouched - physically and emotionally - this is horrid and sinful. I want people to know that I would and do Speak truth Stand firm Do what is right according to the Word of God - the Bible. And love my Father God with all my heart. When I was young I used to wonder about what I would get for my birthday, but as I got older my query turned into what did I do with the time I was given… Have I done what I was supposed to do, since in mama’s words, I’m “not supposed to be here.”? Truly, only Father knows and as long as He gives me life, I get to do something for His Kingdom everyday! Everyday is a gift! Soli Deo Gloria, Til He blows the final trumpet… Nina B.

Time is Short and Hell is Hot

 Time is Short and Hell is Hot

By Nina B.

 The beach where I walk - Dec. 2020 Chgo.

On the cusp of nearly two years ago I posted a blog - "Steppin' into Sixty and More..." and wrote these words along with lots more, (I like words):-)

Beauty Queens:

Weathered beauty wrapped up in layers of cloth - old and dusty... One never knows who has sat in the seat where you chose to sit.

I am sure most folks had not a clue what I was talking about. When I rode the trains to work, (I'm retired now and so walk whenever I wish-instead of riding); I would see, what seemed to be, two really old women. They were homeless sisters - so I discovered. There used to be three. Their mom was one of them, but had died, per my train engineer acquaintance. They were not usual homeless people. They, like some, seemed to have chosen their path and were determined not to venture from their course. They moved about with purpose and intent - more so than some folks with more "stuff" and a place to call home. They were dignified and sophisticated. You could barely make out their faces through the layers, but what they did share of themselves was clean, calming and caring.

My mind wandered back to this posting because, I encountered a person who either was unsure of themselves or wanted to impress me. It's not necessary to go into the details, but I got to thinking about what was shared and what was not... This person seemed void of a meaningful relationship with the only being that matters - God. It makes them empty and only left with "stuff" about themselves that really in the end, matters little - quite literally - has no saving grace. It is not my intent to be condescending - what was shared was admirable accomplishments, however, talked about in a boastful manner. (I think you had to have been there). 

Sometimes people have asked about my family... I have six kids, then ... human judgement befalls me... The next question is... "Well what of your husband?"... "You're divorced?!?"... "Well, what did you do?"... "What's wrong with you?"... "But, you're supposed to be a Christian?" ... There's a whole lot of ugly and humiliation and contempt... and scorn... Sometimes from the church and sometimes just nosey people... So I tend to keep to folks who are within my inner circle, (my youngest son teases and says, "I have no friends..."), or who are here online, who I hopefully will meet in Glory or sadly, not at all...

Which brings me to the "Time is Short and Hell is Hot"... The person I initially spoke of, who thought of themselves rather highly, spoke about how they were exploring other options of divinity. They kinda sounded like they had made a judgement about what I had offered in terms of Jesus as Savior and so, what they were "exploring" seemed more appealing - I guess! They admittedly glanced at the packaging and kinda gave the impression... "Jesus... Nahhh!... Not my style... I'm good"... 

Now the connection to the "Weathered Beauties"... One never knows what's inside the gift unless you receive the package... The enemy, that wily devil, is gonna make his package look appealing on the surface - It's sure to be shiny and pretty and have all the bells and whistles of a new truck... But, did you look at that engine...It was loud, shaking, smoking and did you see the oil leaking? I know the enemy told you not to bother about those little incidentals... But, it will surely rust and become broken and old, (really fast), and will not deliver in the end - to the end... When you need it most.

Father God is and has been pursuing you relentlessly... even while you made the poor judgements... He saw you fall so you could learn to bounce back... but, to HIM! It was He, that whispered your name. It wasn't just the old lady that saw your lostness through Father God's eyes. He had the story of your ups and downs all written out before time even started... It was He that extended The Gift, Jesus...

Don't believe the lie from the devil that you too can be enough with-out God and worse - that you can BE as god! That's what got the devil kicked out of Heaven, (aka HOME). The devil wants you with him! ...Standing condemned to hell, (NOT HOME). The devil would have you believing, what you foolishly believe as truth, (that by the way - doesn't hold water), as something that would "cover" your sin - hide your sin from GOD. That didn't work for Adam and Eve! and it never will work... I could go back over biblical example after example, but I know you're already tired of reading... SO... READ the BIBLE! The Holy Spirit will guide you... Old Testament -Isaiah, Daniel, Psalms; New Testament - Luke, Acts, Romans, Ephesians... just READ! 

Time IS short... and hell IS HOT! I don't want anybody to go there... I truly don't... Get over yourself and surrender to Father God - please. During the final daze of this 2020 year... Grab hold to the outstretched hand of Jesus. Please - for yourself.

Soli Deo Gloria,

Nina B.

Along the broad walk - Dec. 2020 Chgo.

My ...How Times Have Changed

My… How Times Have Changed 

By Nina B 

I can’t believe it... I awoke this morning and thought, ‘Egad! I have become my mother!’ ...When did Times Change? 

Gladys Knight and the Pips sang a remake of “The Way We Were” and Gladys opened the song with these words: 

“Hey, you know, everybody's talkin' about the good old days, right Everybody, the good old days, the good old days Well, let's talk about the good old days Come to think of it as, as bad as we think they are These will become the good old days for our children…” 

 

Gladys Knight The way we were Try to remember, live in Chile, 1979 

Oddly, this is so true. I grew up at the end of the fifties and into the sixties on the south side of Chicago and remember great fun - of times in the alley, for stick ball games, jumping from garage rooftops, rock teacher on the steps of the apartment buildings where we lived, (we never played on anyone’s grass or much in the front). I remember penny candy, giant dill pickles from the corner store, pickle jar for 10 cents and a half of pint of real ice cream on a sugar cone for 25 cents, (this was one scoop), and the flavors were nothing like today - they were real - like the ice cream... and the times… 

I also remember curious times. Times where the air felt full of static electricity- change, (electricity that stayed in one place but is produced by friction - movement - sometimes painful movement). Times of a push-back that seemed right and good. Times when we were taught to be proud, stand tall, and show the world that we, (Black people), were to be counted as contributing members of society and we had earned a piece of the pie. Sidenote: We earned it - no one expected handouts. We were willing to work hard and did. I am the product of a single mom who worked 2 and 3 jobs daily, who expected the best from her three daughters and one son. However, we were taught to respect others… By and large, most people were. 

Yes, there were those who were angry and were holding onto strands of hope that faded with assassinations and fights against those who were thought to be behind it all, (this was the mind of some on both sides of the fence), - but those on my side; were mainly successful in burning and upturning our own neighborhoods and causing a stigma to be painted with a broad brush - unjustly used on everyone on my side of the fence and kinda on the other side too, (like a counter stigma),… So, it took more time than needed for Whites to see the “character” of those willing to work hard; through unfairness, because of the stigma and hard-headedness… 

Still we respected each other and even those that had differing opinions. We developed a live and let live and agree to disagree mentality and we achieved. Did we learn to play the proverbial game? NO. There really wasn’t a game… We simply worked hard.. We went further than our parents and teachers ever hoped for and became more. We were respected, but we also returned the respect. It wasn’t conditional - it simply was something that was a given… Yes, there were exceptions - crude exceptions, but we pressed on - coming and going or not. 

I may have written about this once upon a time, but I remember back in the early sixties when my dad took me by the hand to the Evergreen Park McDonalds. I remember it like it was yesterday. McDonalds was kinda a new thing back then. We walked in the front door during the lunch rush, on a Sunday afternoon. What I noticed and remember, was that there were other customers that were different… What I don’t remember is, if we were the only Black customers… But it did not matter to me - my mindset was we were all customers - and what a wonderful treat - it was. 

In hindsight - YES! That was a huge step for my dad to take with me. It imprinted in my mind: I can go and do anything I want - we are all people. Sounds too child-like. But nothing happened to us. We were treated respectfully. Sadly, I know this was not always the case, especially down in the southern states - I know,... a sad ugly history, but that history does not dictate my present or future nor my mindset. 

For the present, when someone is disrespectful - and too many are, of ALL RACIAL groups; I choose to show respect and love - like my father and Heavenly Father. To me, to be anything else is exhausting, because it’s heart work which is God's work and power, (but, even in matters of the heart, God even gives choice - free will). Still, people who disagree could minimally be respectful. This argument is cyclical: agree to disagree and/or be respectful - child-like thoughts and heart… It sounds really too simple and folks still fight it… I don’t get it… 

Some might argue that I don’t get it because, life has been good to me…but, not really… Still, my parents while not together made good choices and sacrificed and maintained a code, a standard. They had a hope and an ethic (called work hard - save - “No” to credit). Education was also, back then, very important - there was an exchange of ideas - not agendas for the purposes of producing fans/drones. Education did some prep work for life, but people had parents, (a dad and a mom), that were mind-filled about their children - even when they weren’t together. There was always the shared goal of the future for your offspring. They respected each other, they taught their children to respect their teachers. Teachers taught respect for the country and learning. The church taught respect for God… and so we learned to respect ourselves and each other… 

 

Too simple! 

What went wrong… God/church was dropped, television and music gave very questionable ideas on many subjects, an out of control sexual revolution, the desire to give more to children when there was an excess and so; there became the waste and disregard for the hard work and so “the not caring” about anything or anyone… slothfulness developed. 

And I can hear it now, “Nina?!… Who do you think you are?…. You must think as I do...You are wrong… You co….You UT….” All because I don't agree… I am vilified… I'm supposed to submit to the masses, even when they look like me…or not... 

WRONG! 

 I look like my Father God and He says to pray for those who persecute you, forgive your brother, turn the cheek, keep the peace, LOVE YOUR ENEMIES! 

Once again I went overboard! Father sometimes calls me Martha-do-the-most. 

Times have changed. Father God does NOT! Love and pray like there’s no tomorrow - there may not be! Especially if we keep up like we are. 

You have read Isaiah, Daniel, Hosea, Matthew, Luke, 2 Peter, ...

Revelation -"The day of the Lord cometh quickly, even so Lord Jesus come soon". 

Soli Deo Gloria 

Nina B. 

The path just west of Lake Shore Drive 

 By the Lake in Chicago

Watch Time

Watch Time

By Nina Benson

Write about an object, a room, a feature of your home/house that you resonate with. In what ways does this thing help or stray you from quarantine sanity? Introduce it to us, bring it to life. Where does it live? Does it provoke any memories, feelings, smells?   A writing prompt from my ceramic student Samantha G.

So this is what I wrote...

Everyday I bump into Time… Watch sits on the ottoman waiting patiently for me to retrieve it from it’s charging station… During my nightly trip to the bathroom to empty my bladder of my nightly tea, Watch blinks on as if to say,  

“It’s me, Time... pick me up! I’m ready for work… Strap me on and let’s go, go, go, go…” 

‘Not so early!’ I say ... ‘It’s only 3:47 in the morning’. I feel as if I’m being handcuffed when I wear it.  I am confined - restricted - tricked… by Time… Oddly, it passes and is ever present.

There is the promise of movement forward, but everyday is the same. 

NOW! 

I wake. I stretch before getting up. I roll over on my back and groan… ‘Another day Thou hast given me… I am humbled… I try hard to be thankful for another day… to make a difference in a world with one color - grey.’ I thank Father… He knows I try. I weigh in… I start the day… just like the day before… Is today a smoothie day? Is it pre-probiotic day? Is it an off exercise day? Which exercise with Cindy video do I do? Which way should I walk? Do I need to go to the post office? Is today a store day? …

What day is it?

This thing called Time - meted by Watch... chronicled by Watch… It is all the same since we all got into this messy soup of viruses and bugs and death and waiting and movement that goes nowhere because of Time being circular, not so linear… perhaps, more spiral in nature. No matter what science fiction tries to tell us - Time is not multidimensional other than, technically Watch - is… It exists in 3 dimensions - height, width and depth and it is linear as it travels usually on my wrist and circular as it goes forward, however, it speaks only to the present and future… But, I remember a time … past.

Time is a lot like air. 

Air only exists because it is something that sustains life. Without it, life dies. However, air is only something that can be experienced. It can fit within the grasp of a newborn’s fist. It can go into the secret places, but there is no container large enough to hold it all unless one considers the vastness of the earth and gravity acting upon air. We simply believe air - is. Likewise, with Time; it - is… Mainly for mankind, to pass, to spend, but it is something “we” do not produce - though foolishly we think we do. We say, “we can make Time...” - but only in our image and that’s a very poor imitation of what is - Truth. 

Much like a scuba tank filled with air - it is the thing that contains the substance. The tank is NOT the substance. Watch is the instrument that ticks down the seconds. Watch is the thing which we hold onto foolishly believing that we can grasp a characteristic of the Divine. We hear the ticking, experience the vibration of Watch telling us “something”, but we lose it,... it’s stolen off the table where we left it, ... it falls and is broken. It slips through our hands like sand... It’s gone all too quickly; but this is Time.

So Watch is the beacon that wakes when I bump into the ottoman and triggers my mind to the ever presence of Time… Though, I would rather pretend I take no notice of Time; it invariably is unavoidable. It is the account I unwittingly spend… sadly, sometimes, like there is no tomorrow.

These daze as even my seconds have the appearance of being endless, and mundane, and dreary… I spend my Time doing scheduled activities - routines - to keep the insanity at bay. Because of political restrictions my Time and I are restricted to such control. Spontaneity was kicked to the curb as an unwanted woman of the night. She was used and abused and her freedom, charm and recklessness was put on lock-down! No more risks. 

Risks are deemed bad. Unsafe. Uncontrollable.

The political climate is all about control. Our Time is tightly wound and controlled.

I rise with the dawn, when the sun rises - of course, I stretch and arch my neck… Watch is on my wrist now counting “me” my steps for the day, encouraging me to reach my goal of movement through Time. It’s strange - this new relationship between Watch and Time. It did not exist so tightly entwined as before the changes of our lives due to... this messy soup of viruses and bugs and death and waiting and movement that goes nowhere...

So now we have Watch over Time… I keep watch over time. iWatch Time…