The Shunning.

I had a dream the other  night.

I woke up feeling like my stomach was twisted up inside.

It seemed so real, but so ridiculous, too.

I dreamed that my mother was shunning me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He sits there staring at me.

He watches every move I make.

I wiggle my toe, and he instantly turns to see what is there.

I curl  my tongue and whistle, just barely letting the noise slip through my lips.

He sits up, his head tilting to see what I might mean.

I smile.

His tail wags.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Now if you know my mother,

you know the last thing she could ever do is to shun somebody hurtfully.

She might feel angry at disrespectful people and I suppose she would ignore you to a point if she felt you were mocking her or being rude,

but if you come to her and talk,

she would never shun anybody.

But her daughters?  There isn't any way possible she could shun us.

I feel very loved by my mother,

my mother-in-law as well.

They are both the most loving, kind women I know.

Both of them will not tolerate evil, but they will always love people.

In my dream, it hurt so badly when I tried to talk to her and she turned and walked away.

Funny how a dream can seem so real, and the internal pain can be more painful than physical pain.
I have no idea what caused this bizarre dream; maybe I shouldn't eat almonds before bed.

It made me think of the Amish, with their religion, how they shun those who leave the faith.

It doesn't sound like much, but that moment in my dream was so unbearable.

What a harsh reality.

More acutely, it made me think of Jesus,

the rejection of God turning His back on Him when he was on the cross for those hours of darkness.

Jesus words were not,
"Why must I bear this pain?"

but instead the verse says,

"And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"

Mt. 27:46 

That forsaking, that feeling of being shunned or turned away from by the one you love,

the one whom He had never been without,

the harsh reality of what hell would be,

and he suffered it for our sins...

if you have ever felt that terrible pain of being shunned by somebody you love,

the thought is too immense to imagine Jesus' pain.

It seems silly for me to even be talking about a dream or the loyalty of dogs

in the same discussion with the death of Christ,

but I am sure He knows my simplicity and the intent of my heart.

After all, I sometimes wonder if Jesus didn't ever scratch the neck and say some kind words to a tired donkey,

or if he sang along when He heard a bird's song,

or scratched the chin of a cat rubbing at his feet,

or patted the head of a faithful dog companion lying on the floor in his carpentry shop before he left to complete his ministry on earth. 

He was there in the beginning at the creation of the dog 

and knew he would become the best friend of many.

He knew that in a dog was a picture of devoted loyalty,

of never shunning the ones he loves. 

 

We tend to be hurtful, us humans.

We say things in anger or when we don't understand situations.

We judge each other, criticize, hold grudges, spew thoughts that may be hurtful because we don't see the pain of the person whose ears they fall on.

We shout out from our own little box

while the rest of the world stands in a different place,

and if our words aren't wrapped in the packaging of 1 Corinthians 13,

it is harmful, no matter what the words may be.

Sometimes, it is those of our own faith that we are hardest and most critical of,

as if the Holy Spirit cannot direct without our pointing fingers and banging fists.

It can bring pain.

It may be shunning.

If only we could bathe our words in love before we said any of them.
I wish I could: the mastery of the tongue.

Perhaps if we did,

we'd be like that dog sitting by my feet:

kind, trusting, waiting, watching patiently,
protective of his family.
 

They love in their friendly silence.

Perhaps that is why they are man's best friend.

Sharing at:
Themodestmomblog.com

A Prized Possession: Grape Juice

I could see her as she stepped from her house,

her face questioning why I was there.

"I was told that you might have some grapes I could buy?"

God provides the little things.
I am not sure why it always surprises me that He does.

We have been on a slow journey toward trying to eat better.

I say slow because it takes time, money, and gaining knowledge

to eat better in a world where there is so much to be learned

about the intricacies of our bodies

and how everything works together.

And then, of course,
it isn't an easy thing to completely change instantly.

Ten years ago,

when I heard some of the many things I know now about eating in a more healthy way,

I had a really bad attitude about it.

Not that that is unusual or anything, 

as I'm sure my Farmer can attest.

I don't like change,

and I like sugar and easy foods.

But I know that anything worth doing

often takes effort and sacrifice.

So I have tried to alter the most dangerous things we eat

and work on the new knowledge I seem to constantly bump up against

as time and issues demand.

And so I went about asking God to help me find some natural grapes

so I could can some healthy juice for us.

Our grapes have not done well yet.

We get a few handfuls, but not nearly what we need to make juice.
I am a very poor grape vine trainer as I just can't seem to grasp the best way to prune them.
I hope someday to understand them.

I went to the Amish produce auction and asked if they ever had any grapes for sale

that hadn't been sprayed by harmful chemicals,

and the auctioneer directed me to this woman.

As I paid her, she seemed happy;
she told me she had processed six times the amount she had sold to me
and still had more to pick.
When I asked her how she had processed them,
she led me into her home and jotted down while she explained the recipe to me.

I came home happy to have the grapes,
and interested to see how well her recipe would turn out,
 a recipe taught to her, an older woman, by her mother-in-law.

So, here is how it is made:

After the grapes were sorted so that only the good ones were used,

I added water to the grapes before smashing,
as she specified,

and then smashed the grapes and added the sugar.

Having a food mill is essential for this recipe,
but I don't know how I would live without my mill anyhow
as I use it for applesauce, tomatoes, and grapes.

For the grapes, a shorter insert is used
because the seeds would jam it up.

It is done just as the tomatoes were done
except the grapes are fun through before being cooked.
Also, I ran the grapes through the mill two or three times,
until the pulp was too thick and was jamming the mill.

(Although, I found the ketchup was made thicker and less wasted by running it through the mill 2 or 3 times as well.)

After it was milled, the grape juice was heated to a good boil

and then put into sterilized jars with sterilized lids.

I found that they sealed on their own,

but processing would be wise if you are worried about them at all.

We have found this recipe to be the best so far:

less waste, and the juice is concentrated:

2 - 3 jars of water may be added to one jar of grape juice.

It proved to be a good savings to make the grape juice

as organic grape juice is pricey.

It is a step toward eating and drinking better quality food,

and I am thankful for the steps...

especially when they are as rewarding as this.

Linking Up To:

Wearethatfamily.com

See my other recipes from the 31 days of recipes for the month of October.

Grape Juice Concentrate