Uplifted in a Broken Down World

My season is transition. By the clock, it seems like a long journey. By God’s watch, arrival is right on time. Never was I anxious. God was leading. I never strayed from completely following. The worldly course was bundled in pieces. The Divine Way was composed of one PEACE — God’s.

The final way for opening the door to new beginnings had become reality. The past was locked up and closed. The future was not yet under roof. The excursion to find the keyhole of new lodging was not to explore but to discover. The address was not mine to choose but God’s to reveal. Of this, I was without a single doubt. Not an unoccupied house was I headed off to find. My search was to accept from God the home He had specifically chosen as where He was calling me to be.

With a list of possibilities in hand, the hunt began. First stop brought treasured past memories back into focus — days of planting, watering and harvesting of earthly family and Heavenly Father. Could it be??? Once inside, the house appeared completely empty. That was until God revealed His choice furnishing. One tangible object personified God’s spiritually indelible sign. Hanging from a closet door was the sole, “soul”mark designating this home God’s choice for me. A white Crucifix swayed on the door handle, and, like a rock, solidified God had led me to “His Hand”picked shelter.

Not one to ever doubt God’s direction, I abandoned departing to continue pursuing the list of potentials. I needed no further confirmation of the arrival of my next, God chosen, home.

In the days to come, my physical stuff will move inside this sole house. However, already within this home, God has transplanted my heart and soul. “For every house is built by someone, but God is the builder of everything.” Hebrews 3:4 (NIV)

I’ve been so very blessed this weekend to share the back seat of a car with one of my grandbabies. Noah and his “GaGa” squealed in delight as his one-year-old antics wrapped his Grammy around his tiny fingers

Pointer finger was up and center this weekend. With newly acquired adeptness, my little blessing would, over and over, maneuver his baby pointer to show his GaGa what he wanted me to notice, see and focus on. As I enjoyed our sharing, with wisdom God whispered: “little ones point TO; old ‘uns point AT. TO, not AT, is why the pointer finger was created…” And so, my thoughts wandered deep.

Mankind, be it our finger or our entire being, was created to point TO God. Humanity, however, most often points AT, indicating one who is judged wrong, not worthy or against a held belief. In pointing AT, we fail to point TO the God whose image we are meant to mirror. Pointing AT wrong blurs the revelation of pointing TO the goodness of God.

These past couple of days, as I bounced around the back seat of the car, I, also, tossed around the question: shouldn’t my pointer become more like a child’s, so I can fulfill what God directly created my second finger (and all of me) TO, first and foremost, manifest? When the inhabitants of the world point AT, the picture of Satan’s evil wages the war of discord and destruction. When a child of God points TO, the image of God’s righteousness reflects the peace of His divine intervention and harmony.

Lord, we live in a world of fingers pointing AT. Change us into Your unifying children whose hands and hearts point TO — TO You, our Lord and Savior.

Our world is beyond frightening. Yet, it is so vital our young people possess the courage to live joy-filled, not fear-filled. The question is how do we teach courage? Maybe, courage is incapable of being taught. Possibly, it only grows as an offshoot — an outgrowth of faith, hope and love having been planted, watered and rooted.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6 (ESV)

“For the Lord your God goes with you”… Is Scripture proclaiming courage not coming from ourselves but rather from God going with us? I, 100%, declare Amen, Halleluia and yes!!! I firmly believe man’s outer courage stems from God’s residing inside our being — our minds, our hearts and our souls. If you know God, love God and trust God, then God’s courage is seeded, grows and branches forth from your life.

Imaginary courage is of man — Superman, Batman, Spiderman, etc… True courage, plain and simple, is of God.

On Halloween, children by the hordes don the outer apparel of fictitious brave characters; but not an ounce of inner courage is transmitted through these costumes, for courage is not acquired. Courage is inspired — inspired by God and the Holy Spirit living within us. Costumes are man’s cut and sewn material coverings. Courage is God’s woven fibers of faith, hope and love having become the fabric of our hearts and souls.

The world never sells the symbol for courage as dressing up as Christ on Halloween — or any other day of the year. But every day we should display courage by wearing Christ both inside and outside our being. What’s more, next time a little one pretends he’s a worldly hero, may we all have the courage to share the story that replaces fantasy with truth. It’s past time that Spiderman’s fictitious courage is humbled and replaced by our God who created both spiders and man; and who, truly, is the source of all real courage.

As the 2025 Little League World Series became one for the books, I scrambled to find my scrapbooks from the “Good ‘ol Fun Days”, when my son enjoyed little league All Star play. Though it was serious ball, it was fun, and his future ability to play guided his physical push as a twelve-year-old. Oh, how times have changed. I remember back then my determination was to keep baseball fun, meaningful and healthy for my child; and so, more than two decades ago, my heart penned “From A Dugout View” for my sole (and soul) son.

From a dugout view, let’s gaze into some overlooked windows of BASEBALL.

BASEball – BASE is a solid foundation upon which to build. Could it be that the triumph in BASEball is not in swinging for the stars but in “BASE”ing your dreams on the power and strength held within your own hands???

PLAY ball – Every game begins with the dictate: PLAY ball!!! Aren’t we being told that dreams shouldn’t be a task labored with a mind set on “won” but rather a fun adventure of “one’s” heart???

SACRIFICE – Where else in life is it so natural, and so applauded, to sacrifice for another??? Much honor is gained when a person gives his all so not himself, but a fellow teammate, can fulfill a dream.

1 For 3 – The arrogant calculate that success equals batting a thousand. BASEBALL’s scorebook is humble and measures more than a number. BASEBALL statistics compute when you hold the average of hitting the sweet spot just one out of every three times at bat; then, truly, you possess the priceless wealth of the diamond.

HOME – In BASEBALL, victory comes not from reaching a far distant galaxy but from coming HOME. HOME is where one’s heart, soul, values and dreams are born. The greatest ALL STARS understand the path to every field of dreams begins, and ends, at HOME.

And finally, the SOUL of BASEBALL translates: Even with a full count and two out in the bottom of the ninth, step up to the plate, believe in yourself, and never ever let any pitch convince you that you can’t succeed.

So ends the first inning of dugout view BASEBALL. The rest of the game is up to YOU…

Today, I spent significant time within the glass walls of an airport. It was a good smorgasbord of American people – good, bad and indifferent. My choice of focus was the good.

The veteran – a wheelchair delivered him to the gate. He wrenched with pain. Came to learn shrapnel was the cause, and the only cure would be amputation. He had faced war at its worst and somehow survived. He asserted he couldn’t survive amputation. His body was saturated in agony. His heart was grateful, not bitter. His soul belonged to God’s peace, not Satan’s war.

The lady – she too arrived by wheelchair. Irritation flavored her disposition. Her chariot pusher sweetly refused her tip. The employee’s refusal came from a serving heart. The lady’s offering came from a pitying heart. In the employee’s eyes she was helping one in need. The lady’s eyes perceived an indentured servant who needed charity. Sadly, the lady felt boldly spurned instead of humbly served.

It was a three-hour flight with my thoughts revisiting the Beatitudes and how Christ spoke them in 33 A.D., but our lives re-write them in 2025.

33 A.D. on the Mount of Beatitudes – “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.” Matthew 5:8 (ESV)

8/25/25 in a USA airport – And God will be seen in them….

Whenever I am thrown off timing for my daily walk, I’ve come to anticipate God’s maneuvering me to be at an inspirational destination at the perfect moment. So it was this past Thursday.

The week the school year started, and the neighborhood scholars were back in clusters waiting for their orange chariot escort to the hallways of learning. My being later than normal, the middle schoolers and my pathways intersected.

The young hearts I observed were joy-filled, kind and polite — not the image portrayed by much of the media. My faith in, and hope for, the future was enthusiastically renewed as I passed each pack of bright, emboldened eyes.

Rounding the bend for what would be my last group, I realized they bringing renewed faith to me should be but half the equation. These young people need assurance too. I stopped and shared.

My words expressed: School nowadays seems backwards. Teachers are considered the intelligent, whose job is to make students knowledgeable; but actually students, standing on this very corner hold the seeds of wisdom the whole world desperately needs. Teachers are worn and disillusioned. The “today” happiness and “tomorrow” dreams shining in your hearts are powerful, God given (and driven) tools that can change downtrodden teachers into uplifted mentors. When you enter your classrooms today do so knowing the lessons needing to be taught will be yours to teach. Not a teacher in this world holds the answers tomorrow requires. Solely, your hearts and souls hold the key to unlock and open the windows of light and enlightenment our world so deeply needs. So good luck and God’s love as you show the world how wise, capable and inspirational each and every one of you are. Thank you for blessing my day and my life.

Their sweet thank You’s hovered over me as I continued my walk, knowing that tomorrow’s footprint is safely held by the middle schoolers crossing my path today. May we all reject Satan’s call to curse today’s media proclaiming evil youth. Instead, pray for God’s future generation who tomorrow can (and will) deliver headlines of “Good News”. “At that time Jesus said, ‘I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children’.” Matthew 11:25 (NIV)

Beyond ready to throw in the towel and explode over life’s vexations, I sought God’s deliverance. I needed escape from Satan’s temptation of feeling angry and sorry for myself. Life was bombarding me with curve balls and stingers. Bitterness was my fear. I’m a soul centered in gratitude and would not lose this.

Focus, Bonnie. Focus, Bonnie. My Gratitude Towel… My Gratitude Towel… I couldn’t explain the calling. I just felt compelled to reach for my gift from Cynthia — my Gratitude Towel. Pulling it from its resting place, I spread it out on my kitchen counter. Woven into the fiber of its core, I absorbed its message — “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more… It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.” (Melody Beattie)

These words I yearned to re-affirm as my foundation. Everything, even my current tribulations, needs to rest upon this creed. Next, my hands grabbed hold of the dusty shelves from my curio cabinet which were sprawled out on the slab opposite where I had spread Cynthia’s gift of my Gratitude Towel. Laying a shelf directly on the towel, I began scrubbing it clean. My current attitude needed the same. Just like the glass, it was clouded with worldly smudges.

My heart and soul sensed Cynthia must be reminded how great a gift she had bestowed on me. Too much time had separated us from sharing and caring. I needed to reconnect with my sister in Christ. I texted her: “Do you remember the Gratitude Towel you gifted me. Well, at this moment, it is my most needed blessing. Thank you, again!!!”

Cynthia’s immediate response: “You’re perfect timing. I keep going to tears. I saw a neurologist and oncologist today, then went to Weston ER for immediate testing. I’m waiting to get admitted now. The cancer is non operable and is called Leptomeningeal Disease. It’s the covering of the brain. He says radiation is the only thing that I can do for it. We’ll pray. God knows the plans He has for me. Your prayers mean everything to me.”

The insole of my soul needed realignment. I asked God for refocus. He sent me redirection. A trifle of worldly struggle, I was bemoaning. A precipice, Cynthia was steadfastly placing in God’s mighty power. No longer were momentary setbacks suffocating my journey. How could they be? Cynthia was amidst the gravest of roadblocks, yet trusting God to carry her, while I had temporarily slipped my hand from God’s grasp. Humbly, I wiggled my fingertips back into the stronghold of God’s palm.

What had seemed to me so significant a misfortune, now became a nothing at all. Cries of “woe me” became pleas for my sister in Christ, who has given so much spiritual grounding to so many — including me.

It was God who led me to reach for my Gratitude Towel. It was God who, also, nudged me to reach out to Cynthia. It was Cynthia who led me back to reaching up to God.

Heavenly Father, cradle Cynthia in Your loving arms. Her soul is saved. Please, save her body from worldly suffering. Satan has knocked her off her feet, but he cannot knock her off her knees. She is Yours, and You are hers. And I am deeply grateful for you both.

Current life, in general, and for everyone, is hard. Our world is off its rails, and probably we all feel shipwrecked. However, is God a passive leader; or is He actively navigating our bumper car journey? Unquestionably, I believe the latter. The problem is not our, seemingly, off course direction but the response of our pigeonhole view. Do we only see the negative, or do we broaden our outlook and see God in the distance beckoning us forward?

Recently, I’ve come to understand (and accept) that God shows me what I must overcome to grow me into His vision of “whose” I am destined to be. I, quite the opposite, used to expect God to woah the storm, tow the broken down, mow down the challenges and sew up all my hurts and boo boo’s; for then I would know for sure God’s good and only wants the best for me. Quite frankly, that was the world’s epistle, not God’s gospel.

New perspective is no matter what confronts me, God is behind me and has allowed downfalls for the purpose of building me upward and not to pummel me into a downward spiral. Withstanding and getting beyond whatever the world slings at me can be a battering ram or insight into what I need to overcome in order to fulfill my God given purpose. Looking at challenge, misfortune and hardship through the eyes of what is God showing me to grow me brings wisdom into focus; and my view changes from looking down to gazing up.

God intends for fiery times not to define us but to refine us. I can’t escape hard seasons. I can choose to accept them as mountains God will help carry me over and valleys out of which God will pull me, or I can decide to collapse in surrender. The choice is solely mine to “soul”y make.

I’ve spoken in the first person – me; but each and every child of God has (at one time or another) the exact same landmine over which to maneuver. May all, with uplifted eyes, hearts and souls, choose not to be defined but refined. “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.” Romans 8:28 (NIV)

It’s been a week where the world has not only edged, but also cut deep into, the lives of cherished hearts. Satan was the sole perpetrator. God is the soul perseverance.

Week before last, God crossed my path with a landscaper and his lawn edger/cane. This human’s silhouette contrasted worldly entitlement, laziness and complaining. This week, when lives intertwined with mine, surmounted life and death battles, heavenly light more deeply (and personally) illuminated the reflection of this landscaper’s message.

When seemingly crippled by the diseased and deadly devil of this world, deliverance both on earth and into heaven is ours only by clinging to God. His power alone can uphold and heal the landscape of our broken beings.

Man is weak, but God is strong. Man gives way to leaning, but God never teeters under the weight of carrying man’s burdens. God promises “Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:4 (NIV)

God is the answer to all our needs. The question is are we leaning on, and into, Him?

The heat index was going to soar. Warnings pinged my email and phone. Thus, I raced to start my daily walk. My goal was to be finished with my entire day’s workout before the sun fully rose. As I covered my course, it was obvious I was not the only one to devise such a plan. The landscapers were similarly thinking. Additional manpower joined the regular crews in hopes they, too, could beat the danger zone of the heat advisory.

Walking along the golf course part of my route, I noticed one worker significantly behind the crew. My sense was not that he was outdistanced by the mowers but rather that he was putting the manicured finishing touches on the landscape. He was the lawn edger and precisely (and perfectly) doing his job.

As I gained ground on the man, complete amazement overcame me. This gentleman was older than the norm. I’d guess he was around fifty years old, but this was not what distinguished him. Nor was his gaunt build what separated him from the norm. What elevated him from laborer to superman was his equipment — a lawn edger. My heart sighed in empathy, and my soul gasped in admiration. You see, this mighty man’s occupational tool served dual purposes. It manicured this landscaper’s ability and overcame his disability. He was, in worldly terms, crippled. His lawn edger was, in reality, this man’s cane. Without it, I doubt he could have walked a step.

While most were sheltering inside, this hero was earning a living. The image of mankind today seems defined by entitlement, laziness and complaining. We need to look beyond this common spotlight. Instead, men, such as the landscaper I share, deserve to be highlighted as role model for all mankind.

As I passed my newfound hero, I wished him a blessed day and thanked him for blessing mine. In response, he tipped his sweat drenched head and smiled. Walking away, I didn’t pity him. Quite the opposite, I admired him and thanked God for crossing our paths. The sun’s perspiration no longer absorbed my walk, for a child of God and his lawn edger/cane penetrated me with the SON’s inspiration. “I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:13 (NLT)