The Art of Listening http://ping.fm/0Lwsq

The Art of Listening

Hebrews 2:1 We must listen very carefully to the truth we have heard, or we may drift away from it.

How carefully do we listen to what God reveals? And note I said we, not you, because this applies to everyone. How intent are we on earnestly keeping things private that we should not let slip? God gives all the wisdom, insight, and counsel we need for living. But in the hectic activities, stress and pressures of life or even when things are going well (that in particular is when we do not spend as much time with Him as we should, thinking we have everything under control), it is easy to totally miss His message or misunderstand what He was trying to reveal to us if we had truly listened to Him.

This art of listening closely applies to other relationships as well and to the people we meet during the day. How many of us have been sharing something we deem really important only to get that blank stare or the repeated uh, huhs, that tell us this person does not care what I am sharing from my heart and they are not listening to me? Even worse is telling someone something in private, requesting that it be kept between you only to hear it somewhere in the office later, or even in church. A good listener can be hard to find. It is an art that has to be developed over time. Showing respect for the person entrusting you with a private matter reveals to them that you are an artful listener.

We should ask for His help to listen with sensitivity, faithfulness, and remembrance as He speaks. We also need help to listen carefully so that the things He says will not be distorted or discarded. In 2nd Timothy we are admonished to show ourselves approved unto God by the study of His word and if we do study His word, we have a wonderful tool. A tool with which to learn not only what God has for us but also how to be concerned enough about the people who depend on you for guidance. A person may also be outside any faith and is watching you to see how you represent your faith.

Being that good listener may open doors to improve relationships because if you care enough to listen to someone’s needs, you may then become an encourager. How can you listen to someone sharing what they might be going through and not wonder if there is some instruction from God to share or think? Is there a scripture that might help them? Or what is really, really important is to keep your mouth shut and truly listen to what is being shared with you. A lot of people want to interject their opinion while this person is trying to get a message across to you. They do not want your input while they are opening up to you. It can get them off track altogether about what they need to talk about.

This blog is not meant to condone idle conversation that the office busybody might go on and on about or the one who gossips in the office. Gossip is usually cruel and you should do your best to stifle it. Do not practice listening to either of these vain babblings. This blog is meant to encourage all of us to learn how to be the listener God would have us be, if this is something you do not do. This blog is meant to encourage those who already have the gift of being an artful listener so you would know that you are blessed. You are also an encourager because this may be the only help this person cries out for--so how disheartening to them if you are giving that blank stare or just agreeing at moments while they cry their heart out for help.

You can always depend on God to give you inspiration to improve on an area of your life if you take the time to listen to the One who listens to all of our cries for help in times of need or praises in times of joy. God always listens to us no matter what we talk to Him about. He wants to listen to us and we should want to listen to our brothers and sisters in Christ or the people we come by who might need someone like you to listen, really listen to what they have to say.

Posted by SarahBeth at 10:59 AM
Labels: God speaks, listening, religion, relationships

Ping, if I remember right is a great way to get your messages out to lots of folks of all shapes and sizes. Now that I am back on Facebook and my blogsite, I look forward to Ping(ing) often.

Ignore Some Earlier Content

You may notice from the dates on my blogs that I dropped off the radar in 2010 and ceased adding posts. There are some very good devotional posts on my blogsite that I would consider timeless but other posts were intended to come in line with the internet marketing business I so miserably failed at or should I say, I got tired of sinking more money into than I was reaping for my efforts. Even so those blogs are still good reading if you ignore the push for your business because I am no longer with that company so any leads to a link for it will not go through as far as I know.

My hope is that you will read my blogs and make comments about the quality of them. I am not afraid of constructive criticism but welcome it because I will become a better writer if you share what you might consider poor writing, missed needs for proofing, boring or repetitive writing or anything else you might find a need to add to your critique of my writing.

So this is kind of a weird post to my blog but because of the instructions I received from the company I was trying to have success with, there was a funneling process at the end of some of my blogs intended for you to follow through and go to my website (no longer in existence). I am sure though if you were to check the company out, you may want to give it a try.

Until I find out how to edit my posts and I think I am close to doing so, please disregard those that would push the business repeatedly in my blogs.

In closing, I repeat that I would appreciate your ideas about what I have to say especially in the devotional posts I made. I need your input to know if I have correctly composed what scripture is true and for edification. God forbid I incorrectly wrote anything that might lead anyone astray.

An Extra Pair of Hands http://ping.fm/n6eik

An Extra Pair of Hands

Deciding to move to my mountain caused friends to question my sanity and my ability to survive as a mountain woman. As it stands so far I have been able to handle most situations by myself, independently, and with self-sufficiency. There have been offers of help but my response has been to be thankful for the offer but I want to see what I can do for myself before I accept any help. The only problem I cannot provide an answer for is the need of an extra pair of hands at times.

For example this is an extremely rocky area which suits me as I have this strange love of rocks. What looks like a small stone on the surface can turn into a boulder as you continue to dig and work to remove it from the ground. What takes me quite some time to dig enough around this stone resembling the ice berg that sunk the Titanic, plus the strength to remove it from the ground would be completed much more quickly with an extra pair of hands to shovel then lift this monster of a rock. But on this occasion I persisted and eventually removed the boulder by myself. It took a lot of imagination as to how I might remove it while digging to completely free this rock from its earthly constraints.

It is a good feeling to accomplish tasks on my own but that in a good marriage or partnership might be completed together with that extra pair of hands to help hold, lift, move and many other tasks that for one person will take much more time to complete—more time than you really have to spend on one project like removing this monstrous stone, as the example given above. Then there is also the shared satisfaction that the two have completed a chore together and the feeling of accomplishment that two have worked side by side.

This is not a pity party or woe is me because I have no one in my life like that to stand beside me, be the strong one (I am so tired of always being the strong one.), and keep momentum up in order to achieve the desired results. It is just that I have not had success in marriage that many of my friends have and that my friends share life’s difficulties mutually with their spouses or mates. I have continued on in those relationships of mine but even when there was an extra pair of hands in my life, those hands were rarely there to help me or comfort me.

It may be possible on our mountain to find a friend, a female friend, to provide that extra pair of hands I so badly need at times. But most of us keep to ourselves on our mountain so finding another single woman here is not a prospect I have. There are single men living here but no single women as far as I know other than myself. Because of my bleak failures at two marriages, I would rather avoid being around a man working at close quarters. So at those times in which I need help, I have persisted on my own and when finished, always like the: I did it! That satisfaction of accomplishment gets me a step closer to NOT needing an extra pair of hands.

After I posted this blog, I came across verses in Philippians, Chapter 4 that really hit the nail on the head with my desire for an extra pair of hands. Please read: Philippians 4:11 and 12 Mind you this is Paul speaking and I in no way equate my life or faith as equal to that of the apostle Paul~ "Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound; every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need." And of course following that is the verse in Philippians 4 that we all rely on in time of need: verse 13 ~ "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."

Two Happy Moments

Yesterday, I had to be in my crawl space looking for something. In the past, you could not get me to go into a crawl space because as the name sounds, you had to crawl your way in there. I do not mind small spaces but it is the crawling and what I might be crawling under or on that bothered me. But those that built my little cabin included a wonderfully large crawl space with many useful tools and supplies which brings me to one of my really happy moments. While in the crawl space I happened to look up and found two nice fishing poles, rod and reel and nearby what looks like a fishing tackle box. I have to go back in to check that out though when I have time.

Having grown up with a mom that was a wonderful tomboy and who encouraged all manner of critters at the house and loved to fish as well, we did a good bit of fishing while growing up. And as some of you know about my father, the most highly educated man I know, he was a fisheries biologist for the state of Alabama and by retirement he was Chief of Fisheries, Department of Game and Fish, so fishing was pretty serious business to him as well. And yet on top of that, having two big brothers who loved to fish, hunt and otherwise do in nature’s critters, I learned a lot about fishing from them.

One of my fondest memories about my brother, Ed, was being in a little fishing boat on Daddy’s pond. Just the two of us in that little boat that day, so we could share whatever we felt like talking about. I miss Mother, Daddy and Ed very much. The fishing tradition lives on though in the six grandsons that Mother and Daddy had because as far as I can remember, they all like to fish.

But my title mentions two happy moments. On our mountain, quite a number of year rounders live here. Across the way yesterday, I bestowed upon one of those neighbors a radio combination tape player that the former owners left behind. I put it out in my barn unused. The peace and quiet of the mountain is what I crave. I do not have cable either because I was addicted to TV before moving here and often wasted too much time during the day watching programs rather than being outside working and enjoying that physical exercise, fresh air and the joys of nature.

As we talked further, this neighbor informed me that they were switching from wood heat to gas heat and would not need the firewood they have left. His question to me: Would I like to have it? Of course I would like to have it! It is a good bit of firewood. I hope to get with him today to see if the offer still stands and then take advantage of it quickly before the offer is withdrawn. I still have firewood left from this winter because it was such a mild winter. But who knows what next year holds for us, so I will be taking my truck over there as quickly as he will allow, loading up all the firewood I can have.

Two very happy moments: fishing equipment and firewood. What a wonderful day it was and will be if the firewood is still up for grabs. Fishing has already started on our little pond down the hill from me so I will pull that equipment out of the crawl space to check it out. If it is like the other great stuff the former owners left for me, I am sure it is top notch equipment. I will be letting you know what I find. What a great day!

A Different Approach

In an attempt to edit out the internet marketing garbage that cluttered up a lot of my original posts and articles on the various article depositories that I use, it seems as if the only way recommended by one person is just to let them remain on the depositories as they are and begin writing more posts and articles. But when I was ready to post this work this morning, I discovered how to edit your own earlier posts. My different approach: writing from life. And here in the mountains there is much to write about. Just like there are years of stories I can share about my very non-conformist husbands as well as the antics I find myself in quite often.

Take for instance the fog this morning compared to the ‘fogginess’ of my previous posts and articles. They will not make sense to some when it comes to the ‘pitch’ because I am no longer an internet marketer nor a social media enthusiast. I have returned to Face Book but not to my Twitter account and I am not sure if I will return to Twitter. Face Book is keeping me busy enough right now trying to update a Timeline spanning most of my life since my friends from school have not had any contact with me in a very long time and the pictures and status updates are meeting with a lot of joyful responses that warm my heart.

With that number of people responding with happiness because I am ‘talking’ again, they now understand why I was away from them for so long. I missed every reunion, party and get together that my friends held because I was married to someone who had to remain constantly on the move for reasons I will not mention here. I have been very forthcoming on Face Book about my misfortune in not one but two bad marriages. Since one husband is dead and the other has no access to a computer and few computer skills, I have felt it alright to write about them on Face Book and about the miserable marriages we suffered through.

Enough pity talking now because I want my writing to be about joyfully writing about my tire garden. I finally got my potatoes in and am determined today after writing to go work in the fog to plant my strawberry garden in a circular tower of old tires. When I asked the local EPA office about doing so, they were happy that those tires will not be attracting mosquitoes for breeding and that they will not get calls to come pick up tires that have been dumped on our mountain. You can do a search online about tire gardens if you would like to learn more about them. I will be sharing my success and/or failure at gardening in this way.

One problem I have to address in my writing is that I do not know when to quit. But that will also be a different approach to my previous work. I am learning how to be quick, accurate and concise in my writing and will try to overcome my OCD habits of beating my writing to death with that proof reading stick. I am a great proofer but mistakes can always sneak by you. Proofing can also slow me down looking for better ways to say something, write something and post what I write.

So with this different approach, I will close with one important bit of information. My previous business name, still attached to most of my earlier writing is Cattle on 1000 Hills which confused some people because they thought I was a cattle farmer. But those of you who are familiar with Corrie Ten Boom may remember that she used to say that if she needed funding for anything, she could 'ask God to sell one of His cattle on 1000 hills'. So if you see that name it is my earlier writing which you may still enjoy as long as you understand I am no longer in the internet marketing racket.

Well. Wasn't that Special?

[Remember the church lady on SNL? I never liked the humor because it often bordered on blasphemy but unfortunately, yesterday’s antics made that question of hers come to mind. The following story explains why.]
It was necessary that I go across the border again. Wal Mart beckoned to me. On previous trips across the border, I have seen a sign stating that there was a campground with lake, cabins, a beach and such. It made me curious as the family had always stayed in State Park campgrounds for vacations. I wanted to compare Florida’s State campground facilities when I made my trip to Boca Raton, Florida. That was primitive camping though as costs had to be cut to a minimum and it costs little to stay in State Parks.
The folk that live in this area give very strange directions. Being famous for getting lost in my one room cabin, it is very hard for me to reach where I need to be based on the directions I am given. Go down here a little ways, turn at the light, follow that road on around the river and cross the river again, it is not that far and so on and so on. I ALWAYS get lost. For one thing, they seem to take offense at my asking them to wait until I have pen and paper to write these directions down so that I could ensure arriving where I needed to be and not lost. I do map quest searches but very often there places are not on the map.
It was early morning when I set out to the store and fairly early when I came back deciding on this trip to note the directions on the campground sign so that I might go check this place out. But the ONLY directions on the sign were to take a right at the bridge and go 5 miles. The only bridge I was aware of I was familiar with because it is so shaky that buses, trucks and large vehicles are supposed to cross it one at a time. But there was no recollection of a road to turn at the bridge so I prepared myself to look closely—no road; then after crossing the bridge, I knew there was a small strip mall. That left only one road to turn onto and that looked like the average neighborhood drive.
With no other choice in sight, I made the turn which I really hoped would not end up where I am now, which is at my computer writing about my latest adventure.
Here goes everybody. I hope this continues to be some of my comedic writing that everyone seems to enjoy as opposed to my more serious work:
I know, I know, I know that with my troubles getting lost, I should have set the trip meter on my odometer but thought with my ‘direction challenged’ brain, what could be harder than to follow this road for a while to see what turned up. Not soon after, the neighborhood look changed into something in which I expected to hear banjos playing—you know? The movie with the dueling banjos? But as is so common around here, the scenery is worth the drive even though I had hoped to have a really short trip across the border, back home to Mo and possibly work outside the rest of the day.
Again, there are no words I can find to describe the absolutely gorgeous area I am living in and around and what I saw here was no different. Now this is where I got into trouble. I was supposed to be looking for a lake with cabins and such. I WAS looking but not as hard for that as I was looking at the scenery and savoring what God gave us to enjoy in our time here on earth. Soon the stream running next to the road turned into a river with some rapids which of course, set my mind to thinking how much fun that would be tubing, canoeing, rafting and just floating down. I do not know how rapids are measured but to my uneducated eyes, these did not look like anything but to have fun with. Soon they were gone and the swiftly flowing river was back. But there were more rapids later so of course these rapids diverted my attention from what it should have been focused upon.
Excitement was growing as I thought the sign said a lake not a river. Did the river supply the lake? Obviously by now you may start to recognize the signs of not paying attention to what was going on in regards to the lake, cabins, and their location. There were no roads to turn off onto when I got to the end of this road. I had spotted the most fantastic structure up on a boulder covered hill resembling a lodge. I was in love now dreaming about sitting in those rocking chairs in the early morning hours before anyone else was up. Sitting there, drinking coffee and enjoying a beautiful view with peace and quiet.
I should mention that I DID notice a building with a huge eagle painted on the outside that indicated that it might be a shooting range. Again, more excitement as I would love to have a safe place to do some target practice and if that was part of the campground, then fantastic. But as I passed that building and got to the END of the road, I had become hopelessly in adoration of the scenery around me when OOPS. Whose field was I going to have to turn around in and were they going to fire warning shots even though I had seen no signs posting ‘Keep Out’? WRONGLY assuming I MUST be at least somewhere close to the Lake Campground, I took the ‘road’ leading up to the ‘what I thought was a lodge’—the destination of my search.
My truck is not 4-wheel drive but so far, we have managed to avoid any embarrassing situations or needed any help getting ‘unstuck’. That is, until this turn I made. If I keep the truck moving, I can avoid awkward ‘stuck’ situations but I made the mistake of stopping out front of this beautiful ‘lodge’ without paying attention to the position of my truck so I could get out because the drive on ahead looked more than a little rough—barely a road at all.
My record of not getting stuck ended and what a place to be in! There was the farm below. I found boards under the deck to help myself get ‘unstuck’ but to no avail. I thought I had moved everything out of my way to have clearance should I be able to do more than spin my tires. Good thing it was not muddy. I was determined—or stubborn—as I am in everything now to independently cure whatever ails me, whatever mistake I make, whatever I have that breaks like my potbellied stove.
The attempts to do anything but spin my wheels hard enough to make them smoke were fruitless. I got more lumber, cleared more items from my hopeful pathway out of this situation and kept making it worse. My hopes were that someone on the farm would come to my aid since a dog had started barking and in the country, country dogs are the first line of defense for their owners. And she did show up first to see who did not belong in her territory.
The owner soon followed his dog to see what was going on because this was NO lodge but his father’s house. His father suffered a stroke recently. People found out he was not in the house and proceeded to loot it. So this man who came up the hill quite firmly in step, also had his weapon drawn. Yep. And a fine pistol it was. He was dressed in a black T-shirt, one of the military, camouflage hats and fatigue pants with military issue boots. The reason I noticed the pants: his drawn pistol was not his only weapon. He had many straps on those fatigue pants holding other weapons. BUT, for the time being my major concern was to request as politely as possible that he NOT shoot me.
Discourse ensued on who I was, where I was, what business I had on his property; how it had been looted; how my spinning wheels indicated to him that I was trying to escape; and that it had not been uncommon for a woman to drive a husband or boyfriend to the house and wait for them to bring out stolen property from the house. Jewel, the dog, did not like me at all—not one bit but she came to my assistance whether she wants to admit it or not since her owner followed. She appeared to be a Shetland collie, a working dog, so I asked if he raised cattle. He responded no more; that now he raises quarter horses.
Explaining to him my reason for being there and telling him about Daddy being Game and Fish and having two older brothers, I would ramble around sometimes but did not cross marked boundary lines. This fine looking gentleman (I KNOW I am not supposed to even raise my eyes around men in case I see someone like this character because of all my bad luck with men. But ladies, he was a hunk!) Weapons, stern and forceful, straight to the point, requesting to see my driver’s license and camping gear—fortunately I do keep my tent behind the seats of the truck. My responses convinced him I was not there to loot.
His question to me was “What did your Daddy teach you about going onto other people’s land?” He answered the question before I could saying it was a good way to get myself shot.
He surveyed the situation and determined I had gotten myself REALLY stuck in my efforts to free myself so he left to get his jeep. While he was gone to get the vehicle to rid himself of me, I cleaned up the area that I had disturbed while trying to free myself. I returned the lumber to the house; moved stones back I had used in the process; moved a burn can and stump back to their original locations; and spread pine straw and other mulch over the places where my tires had torn up the ground. Really wish I could have removed the stump that pulled half my bumper loose but I did not even see it until it was too late. It looks like the bumper can be replaced fairly easily but who knows? I will look at it again later. I really don’t care as long as it is not dragging the ground or might come completely loose on the road.
This handsome—oh, sorry, there is that description I am to avoid regarding men now—but stern man probably about my age informed me of the branch of the military he had been with and the tactical force as well but at the time he told me about his background and how I almost got shot, my attention was focused on that pistol held in ready to shoot me. He clearly impressed me with that information but I was standing stone cold still cautiously eyeing that pistol.
He continued to scold me firmly, letting me know how I HAD passed the campground and that they probably had their gate closed with the Keep Out sign fallen onto the ground or turned where it could not be seen. Fortunately, his jeep with wench did a good job and I followed his instructions completely on which direction to turn my tires when it was time. He also pointed out, again quite sternly, that I still had a very sharp turn to get my truck where it needed to be in order to get back on the road (and he probably wanted to add, away from him).
I asked about what I thought was a shooting range and he confirmed that he owned that as well. I fought the notion to ask if I could come shoot there. Once I had been pulled free, realizing how closely I had come to being shot, I could not stop the tears from trickling down my cheeks which was a further embarrassment. I asked him to please look in my shopping bags. I wanted him to know I had not looted the house. He responded that he was pretty good at profiling people and had determined I was not trying to escape him with all the tires spinning. But from down on his farm, hearing tires spinning made him believe someone WAS trying to get away.
Tired, ankle still hurting and just being a sissy girl, I had a good cry getting home which thankfully was not too far away. But Mo was disgruntled and just wanted out of the cabin after being paid the piece of cheese I owe him when I go off leaving him behind for a while. Yes. You read that right. I have to bribe my dog in order to go places without him.
Another vehicle showed up at my ‘stuck’ location once we were through and parting ways. Whomever was in it followed me for quite a distance, turning off when I suppose they were satisfied this crazy woman from Alabama had disrupted their otherwise quiet day rearing quarter horses. I did see the campground on my way out to the highway but one of their two gates WAS closed and had a sign posted to keep out so they must not be open at present. What I could see holds much promise though and I look forward to getting more information on them somehow. The cabins from a distance looked to be in good shape. The lake is quite large.
It would have been nice after ALL that trouble to get INTO the campground to look at the cabins and find out if river rafting is part of the deal when renting. But having had survived one encounter for the day, and tears streaming down my cheeks, my truck and I headed home to our own little piece of this lovely place we call home now; alive but badly shaken.