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From My Heart

 

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Reflection

Sackcloth and Ashes

Sackcloth and Ashes
by Brenda Wilbee

MY FAMILY moved to Meteor Ranch of Northern California in May of 1962. Back then, my sisters and I were eight, nine, and ten, me in the middle, Linda and I were about to turn ten and eleven.

The ranch was a family-run Christian Conference Center and Bible Camp, the mother in charge. She oversaw her husband, sons, and daughters-in-law, the staff, and whatever wards of the state she could take in for cash flow—to use and misuse we’d learn soon enough. I’d already pegged her for a sheep in wool’s clothes. After hiring Dad to come work for her at a pittance by bribing him with a “fully furnished house,” we discovered the house to be a stolen ranger station she’d had her sons saw in half and haul out of the hills.

Giving FROM my Heart, Not Giving AWAY my Heart

Giving FROM my Heart, Not Giving AWAY my Heart
by Brenda Wilbee

Each one must do as he has made up his mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves cheerful giver."  —II Corinthians 9:7 (RSV)

PANDA WAS MY FAVORITE stuffie when I was five. That Christmas, the fire department collected old toys for the poor. Even though Panda begged I not give him up, the voice of my Sunday School teacher oerrode: "We never give God what we don't love. We give Him what we love the most."

Orchid and Dandelion

Orchid and Dandelion
by Brenda Wilbee
—THAT I WAS AFRAID OF MY MOTHER is no secret, but I understood her struggles. Her life had been fraught with abandonment issues, unresolved and deeply buried. I seem to have been a lightning rod for her frustation. So how do I handle this in a memoir? When I don't wish to hurt her?

You Don't Wear Leotards When You Visit the Queen

You Don't Wear Leotards When You Visit the Queen
by Brenda Wilbee
I AM GRATEFUL to be living back in Canada the day our Queen died. There is something to be said for societal identity and collective grief.

When Princess Elizabeth was crowned Queen, I was five days old. Which means she's been my queen all my life. Seventy years. And although I've spent most of my life in the States, loyalty to her has always been a big part of who I am.

I suspect much is due to my grandfather. He was a royalist and took me to see her when I was 7. She'd come to Vancouver for a visit, and a visit Grandpa intended to have.

What is WRONG With Me? (I'm an Orchid.)

What is WRONG With Me? (I'm an Orchid.)
by Brenda Wilbee
HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED how some people can be Mean Girl behind the scenes while publicly charming? Leaving you in a wilt? I attended a writers workshop the other day and there SHE was. Mean Girl with her smiley face a square on my computer screen. She smiled and charmed, and was oh-so-helpful and witty and wise while I spent six hours wondering why I could not function. I couldn't even manage to speak. Six hours! Why could I not get myself together? What was wrong with me?

Barbie Doll and Missing Body Parts

Barbie Doll and Missing Body Parts
by Brenda Wilbee
AFTER BREAST CANCER and mangled attempts at reconstruction, I was looking a bit like Birch Bay Drive of WA State after a vicious storm took the road out. My friend Judy was a buoy during the storm, keeping my head above water. But she wasn't a lot of help when the tide went out and it was time to face the damage. No one was. And I wasn't about to take my clothes off just to show folks exactly what we're dealing with here.

Here's the truth, and trust me. . . 

Reflection: Grownup Coloring Books, All the Rage

Reflection: Grownup Coloring Books, All the Rage
by Brenda Wilbee

Rain slides down the windows. My sisters and I are at the kitchen table, coloring. We’re chatting.

“Do you know where the silver is?” Tresa might ask.

“No,” I might say.

Linda might find it on the floor. Maybe she rummages through the 300 million crayons we keep in a Peak Freans cookie tin; most with rounded noses, peeling paper, and smelling of wax and something else perfectly and gloriously wonderful.

“What are you going to color silver?” is something I might ask.

The point is, coloring was a way for my sisters and I to enjoy each other’s company on a rainy afternoon and apparently exercise our brains, find focus, calm down, and choose colors that can heal. In recent years, adult coloring has become quite the “thing.”

So what’s the deal?

TAMING THE DRAGONS: Lucy, Uncle Tom's Cabin

TAMING THE DRAGONS: Lucy, Uncle Tom's Cabin
by Brenda Wilbee
Sometimes we use I Corinthians 10:13 to deny the power of evil, and in doing so we let evil reign. Interpreting the word “temptation” to mean circumstances or events or crushing stress rather than what it does mean—temptation to do wrong—we blind ourselves to people whose burdens really are too heavy to bear. Erroneously assured in our minds that God will not allow too much stress to accumulate in a neighbor’s life, we sit back and allow our neighbor to suffer more than he or she can withstand.

TAMING THE DRAGONS: Mary, 1989

TAMING THE DRAGONS: Mary, 1989
by Brenda Wilbee
“I awoke shortly after midnight, and within minutes I’d been shot in the head.” Mary was asleep in bed with her three-and-a-half-year-old son when an intruder broke into her home through a bathroom window.

Taming the Dragons: Mary, Mother of Jesus

Taming the Dragons: Mary, Mother of Jesus
by Brenda Wilbee

WAS MARY, fiance of Joseph, at the well in Nazareth when the stranger approached? Or was she washing butter, packing it into earthen vessels? What was she doing when a man she’d never seen before said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

I wonder, did the bucket fall from her hand, warm water splash across her hot and dusty feet? Did she drop her bowl? Did it break? Did she hasten to gather the precious butter coated now in dust and dirt? Kneeling, scooping, heart beating fast?

Taming the Dragons: He Can't Hurt Me Anymore

Taming the Dragons: He Can't Hurt Me Anymore
by Brenda Wilbee
AS A SINGLE MOTHER, I related to Jacob and his feelings of being cheated. In my first three years, child support had changed thirty-eight times. I lived in constant economic upheaval. There are other ways to be cheated, too. We can be cheated out of recognition, time, honor, even love. In the business world we can be cheated when someone takes credit for something we did. Gossip robs us of our reputation. A busy boss may fail to be appreciative. Employees fudge on their time slips. Beyond the workplace there are even more ways to be cheated. Everyone has horror stories of car mechanics, attorneys, and politicians. And yet God did not allow Laban to harm Jacob. . .