Senior Living – Rebekah Lyn Books

Receivers and Transmitters

Dear Onisha,

I’ve just had an epiphany and I wanted to write and tell you about it. I ran into a young woman I can’t say where. I’d met her casually before. We started a conversation. We both enjoyed it, I like to listen (most of the time), and she seemed to need to talk. She was so funny that I’d love to see her as a stand-up comedian or a blogger. Do you ever meet people you just know could write if they wanted to? I mentioned that we had a blog-site, but warned her that we were Christians. She hesitated. “But we’re nice,” I said. So then she started talking about nice people versus not nice people. She likes nice ones, as do we. We went on talking for another thirty minutes.

As we each went on our way I wanted to know that the Master had been there with us. Suddenly I had that wonderful sense of knowing that God sometimes bestows on us. The thought: My dear child, I heard and I have answered. It is finished, came into my head. I was so thrilled I wanted to sing and dance. Wow! No begging. No figuring things out. No fasting. No prayer list. Done.

Years ago, when I first became a Christian. Someone taught me that above all I was supposed to be an intercessor. I read books about it and learned the protocols for being effective, but I was always surprised if I heard any results of my prayers. I always figured I just wasn’t doing it right, or I wasn’t trying hard enough.

Perhaps it doesn’t demand, “trying”. Maybe God has another way. Could it happen like this–the spirit in us, which is filled with the Spirit of Christ, is a transmitter/receiver that takes in impressions and discernments, and sends quick, silent prayers to God. He then sees to everything–the healings, deliverances, and the continued poring out of awareness and His love. Could it be that praying doesn’t always have hard work?

Love,

DiVoran

Dear DiVoran,

I love your epiphany!! Why do we keep beating ourselves up because we aren’t serving God in exactly the same way as someone else, especially someone we admire? He created us to be unique. Do you think maybe he uses some people to fast and pray without ceasing, and then uses someone like you who is a wonderful listener and accepts people freely to carry out His mission? (I thank Onisha for this wonderfully encouraging compliment).

I am sure at least half of the people attending church feel the same way you and I have felt. It’s so wonderful to learn we just have TO BE and God will take care of the rest.

Love,

Onisha

The Master says:

My Dear Child,

Watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I do the praying in you and for you. I keep you present before God. Trust me

Matthew 11:29, Romans 8:26, and John 14:1

The Light Comes On

Over the past few months, while I’ve been working on my novels, for the Florida Springs Trilogy, I’ve had many questions. Along the way, I pondered what makes a good path for excellent writing, and how to use my word processing program to help me along that path. I offer three of my musing for your delectation.

What trigger can alert me that I’m writing myself into a passive voice?
How can I disable spell/grammar checker’s correction about a single rule, one that I wish to ignore maybe forever?
Is my spell/ grammar checker always right? I already knew the answer to that one. A friend sent me a funny list of things the computer thinks are right, but are not, and vice-versa. Today, however, I experienced a delightful example, so I want to share it with you.

A writer’s blog on polishing your own work helped with the first question. Look for the ings, it said, when you have an ing you may have a was or an is making the sentence passive. Suddenly I moved ahead. (Not suddenly, I was moving ahead.)

The next answer came from one of my mistakes. I polished away blithely clicking on the Ignore Rule unaware that I had shut off some of the suggestions for that document permanently. That works. If you don’t want contractions click on Ignore Rule. Novelists, who want their writing to sound casual, and to move the reader along, often go ahead and use contractions.

My example for the spell checker’s sometime frivolous pronouncements follows: in my poem, Woodrat the title had a red line under it. The top choice for a correction was woo drat. Since I don’t know what a woo drat is and don’t much care, I kept woodrat, even though it wasn’t strictly correct. After all, it is my poem.

When I was almost home, the sun shone suddenly in my eyes. As I slipped my sunglasses from my pocket, I realized that the Holy Spirit who lives in me knows all about writing and everything else. He answers when I ask for His help with the smallest, seemingly most unimportant matters. In other words, the light always goes on, sometimes immediately, sometimes later. I rejoice.

I also take suggestion from people. Do you have any? Please be gentle. Please, don’t tell me about commas. I have an exterior editor for that.

Arise; shine, for your light has come. Isaiah 60:1

Bacon, Eggs and Eavesdropping

I mentioned on Face Book that after I had my blood drawn for routine blood work, that I’ve been putting off since last year, we went for bacon, eggs, toast, jelly, and coffee. Delicious after fasting since I got up two hours before.

The diner style café was one of a modern chain, but the clients at the table next to us gave it a down home, old timey feel. First there were three men sitting at the table talking, you get a lot of that in Florida during the week. We heard one man called Shorty. You could tell they had known each other a long time. For writers, a cardinal rule is: eavesdrop in public places whenever possible. You may even be able to take it off your taxes as research. (Not really). Anyhow, I heard one of them say something and the other answer, be careful you don’t get shot. Down here in Deep South Florida, we call that Red Neck talk, no offence.

An elderly couple came in. The man was pale and tottery. There was only one seat at the men’s table and the husband walked around to the empty chair while the wife went to the counter to order. To the tottery man, Shorty said, “You better sit down before you fall down.” I haven’t heard that since I was a child and I have never heard it spoken more appropriately. When the wife came back they offered to move a table, but she said, “No thanks, I’ll just sit here by myself.” She had her newspaper and therefore only had to listen to the parts of the conversation that interested her. A jolly waitress bustled over and set something in front of the tottery man.. “This is for you, sweetie, “she said. “You’ve got to eat something.” He said thank you and asked what it was. “Fried Pie,” said the waitress. That’s what I want when I get tottery, I thought.

“I got two coupons for those,” said Shorty not wanting to be left out.

“I’ll bring you some, honey,” said the waitress,” just as soon as they come out of the fryer.”

The men talked some more the way friends do. They casually mentioned their grandchildren. Then the woman at the next table took a page from her newspaper and offered it: “Anyone want to read the obits?” she asked.

A man took the paper from her and looked at it. “This isn’t the news, he said. “It’s the obituaries.” But then he set to reading it and silence reigned. “Edgar’s in here.” The man looked up. “He died at 83. There’s a whole page write-up on him.”

We left before they did. My dear husband who also must have been eavesdropping gave the tottery man his free coupon for fried pies. Everybody thought that was real nice of him. It felt good to be with just plain folks like the ones we came from and remain to be to this day. We wish them well. Fried pies, anyone?

DiVoran Lites

I Stole a Muffin

Today, Memorial Day, I stole a muffin from a gas/convenience store.

Honestly I didn’t mean to steal it. I didn’t even need it, I wasn’t hungry, but how often do you pass up what you think is going to be a free muffin? I could have had a raised donut, which I like better, but one of those giant muffins, cut in quarters, will last me four days.

Anyhow, here’s how it happened, I go in to use the restroom and it turns out to be the best looking roadside convenience store I’ve ever been in. I have seen some, believe me!

Spacious, clean, the employees wear blue and white uniforms, and the one handling the food wears white silicone gloves and a hairnet. The bathroom is pristine clean. I am so impressed I want to fill out a little comment card and give the workers a lift for their troubles. The girl at the check-out looks up with a tired face that soon becomes a smiling one as she hustles to get a receipt (even though I hadn’t bought anything) that had on it how to offer a comment to head-quarters. Oh, good these hard-working people will get national recognition because of my small good deed for the day. She shows me the information to use to do the deed. Okay, I can make a phone call, or looky, there’s a place where you can go on-line. I have some trouble with that sometimes, so I think a cozy chat on the phone making someone feel good will be just the ticket.

After the associate hands me the receipt with all the information she says, “For doing this, you get a free baked goodie.”

“Oh, boy, I say, “I didn’t know that!” and go right over to the clear Lucite case that holds the jewels: raised donuts, crullers, chocolate éclairs, and giant muffins. They have frosted bags to put them in and long tongs with which to grab them. I carefully select a muffin because if I cut it in quarters it will last me four days, When I look around for the girl who said I could have it, I saw that she was busy so I just raised the bag in a salute and smiled and turned to go on my way. She did look harried. It made me feel good that she need not bother with me again,

I came home and, looking forward to a cozy chat, I used my home phone to call and tell someone how much I liked their store. Well, now sometimes, I’m almost too naïve to live. Of course there was no cozy chat. I followed the numbers the best I could. Press one for English and so on. After the auto-phone-robot asked how much money I spent and I successfully pressed 0 it asked why I went in there. Fortunately bathroom was on the list and I triumphantly pressed 3. Usually there’s a stumper and no one to explain to, but in this case, everything was going better than expected. They asked for my zipcode and I knew that all right. Then they asked if I bought just gas, just product, or gas and product. Zero didn’t work this time. I punched it twice and then the third time I held it down. Wouldn’t that be a good way to get a human operator? Well, no. It came back and said it didn’t understand me and that I should call back another time. Unsaid was: (WHEN YOU GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER, DUMMY). I set the phone gently on its stand.

Now I’m an hour away from that place, I have cut up the muffin and put it in the refrigerator. One quarter of it waits for afternoon coffee time. I read the receipt to try to figure out what to do now. At the bottom it gives me the number I am supposed to use to redeem my muffin after I have done all this reporting stuff. I definitely owe them! I decide to go for the website, which can be a jungle for me.

I got there all right, but then I was stuck at a screen asking me to tell them how old I was. I skipped that one, but the next one wanted to know how much education I had, and after that they wanted to know when I graduated from high school. Their numbers didn’t go back that far so I pressed the last one. They said that one or earlier so I was still trying to be honest.

When I got to the end of the trail, I realized someone wanted to invite me to pay them money to educate me. It had nothing to do with muffins or the convenience store either. There were no little xs anywhere, and I couldn’t get back to the store site, so I gave up.

What now? If I ever go back to that town again I could try to stop in and pay for the muffin, but I’ll bet they would want me to do it by phone or online, and I know by now that just won’t work. Anyhow, I’m sorry I can’t tell you where to find that beautiful convenience store. I can’t tell you because, well, you see I’m on the lam and they if saw this they might send the muffin man after me.

Ephesians 4:28 Let him who steals, steal no more.