“Out of defeat can come the best in human nature. As Christians face storms of adversity, they may rise with more beauty. They are like trees that grow on mountain ridges — battered by winds, yet trees in which we find the strongest wood.”
Billy Graham
How nice to meet someone so undeterred by things like. . .reality.
The Lorax
(the first post freezing quince bloom–looking worse from winter’s wear / Julie Cook / 2015)
The Psalmist cries. . .
“Hear me oh Lord. . .”
Cries of anguish, pain, sorrow, emptiness, suffering. . .
The Psalmist also speaks of joy. . .
Joy is longed for and joy is infectious. . .
Praise and alleluias are easily multiplied. . .
Everyone wants in on happy, joy, uplifting, good, glad. . .
It is, however, to the other. . .
to those deep groanings of the suffering soul and spirit. . .
the laminations, the cries, the wailing, the tears, the sorrow. . .
of which, alone we will all eventually find ourselves.
It is a dry place of solitude, oneness, singleness and loneliness
It is a place that is gritty, dirty, uncomfortable
It is the furnace ready to refine. . .
Yet this place of isolation,
this place of misery,
this deeply troubling place of peril
and of anguished sorrow. . .
is also the place in which character is forged.
It is the place where the knowledge of self is realized–
for good or for bad. . .
Crisis crashes down upon crisis
Weary roads traversed
stop and go, stop and go
wills are battered
hearts are bruised
bodies fail
sewage spills forth in a torrent of rage
as money flees through the broken glass
Personalities clash,
while the like minded work in tandem
Step by step, one foot forward
Sinister lurks in the shadow, composing its agenda
Controlling, one way, the only way
Demanding will not yield its way
Selfish will not have the last word
Having been hit broadside. . .
Blindsided by mayhem, confusion and hatefulness
Caught in a place of no control and no return
Nearly broken, battered, hurting. . .
yet decidedly undeterred. . .
A little while, and the wicked will be no more;
though you look for them, they will not be found.
But the meek will inherit the land
and enjoy peace and prosperity.
The wicked plot against the righteous
and gnash their teeth at them;
but the Lord laughs at the wicked,
for he knows their day is coming.
The wicked draw the sword
and bend the bow
to bring down the poor and needy,
to slay those whose ways are upright.
But their swords will pierce their own hearts,
and their bows will be broken.
Psalm 37:10-15
cookiecrumbstoliveby 
WoW Julie! This is a well written post with some great meaning! Blessings!
Thank you Andy
Very encouraging
Reblogged this on Underground Energy.
Thank you Lisa—I am humbled
Thank you for the wonderful encouragement.
I love this post Julie. Very apropos for the world today.
Thanks Angie–it’s kind of ironic I suppose–I wrote this post as a reflection of the crises upon crises that have befallen my life this week and several folks have liked it as a reflection of certain current events–when in actuality it merely reflects the heaviness of my heart and life —I hope things are thawing your way—Hugs my friend–Julie
Life sometimes reflects world affairs Julie. On Sept 6 of last year I was thinking how close we were to the 9-11 anniversary when my next door neighbor blew his apartment up. There is only a wall separating our apartments, and my first thought was that someone flew an airplane into the building.
Things have thawed completely here, and since I live in a town on the banks of the Ohio River, we are now facing the results of the big thaw. The river hasn’t crested here yet, but it has already flooded a lot of the low land and caused road closings, plus probably drowning of some young men who were old enough to know better, when they decided to take their small boats out on the river to catch some fish. She’s a beautiful river when she is calm, but when she gets excited by the snow melt, even the children know to stay back. I’m not sure how many young men were involved, but I’m sure by now they have either been caught on some tree trunks, or been swept into the Mississippi. We can only pray for the families now, and hope the bodies are never found by young people, but by seasoned river people who have seen the results before.
Hugs, Julie, Peace and prayers. Angie
Wow and wow again! You always amaze me with these kinds of posts, my sweet little battered friend. What a beautiful character has been forged in you by the trials in your life. So glad our paths have crossed each other. Love you, N 🙂 ❤ ❤ ❤