Deep Calls To Deep

I just read an article online about this verse:

Psalm 42:7
Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.

The article, which I won’t link to here because I’m about to disagree (LOL), states that this could be David lamenting about his troubles. Watching a waterfall spill on top of itself, churning up bad memories and events.

I disagree.

This verse calls to me. Calls to the deep. Are you deep?

Meaningful calls to meaningful. Intelligent calls to intelligent. Known calls to known. God calls to those who seek Him. And those who seek Him hear His voice.

At the beginning of the psalm, David is talking about his deep yearning, thirst, for God. Deep calls to deep as thirst calls to water. Connected. Deep connection. One must satisfy the other. God must satisfy our desire. You cannot slake thirst with anything but water. Deep calls FOR deep.

The article did hit on one detail. They talked about the metaphor of water. The bible talks about water many times. The flood of Noah. The punishment of Egypt and the salvation and ransom of Israel with the parting of the Red Sea. The direction of Jonah. The baptism of Christ. Jacob’s well-the well at which Jesus met the woman. The spring of eternal life bubbling up inside. The thirst that is quenched with the words of God. Jesus as the fisher of men. The boat saved. The storm stilled. Water was used over and over in the bible as a cleansing, a washing away of sin and fear. Life-giving, life-changing water.

The article said that the use of water in this instance is a mighty force. Yes. I agree.

That force here is God. IMO. Deep calls to deep. God calls to holy? He calls us. The roar of your waterfall. The fall of your grace down upon our sin and it is washed away. Your mighty power pounds away at the rock of sin. And we don’t sink. We bubble up and float away with the hope of a full and deep river. All your waves and breakers have swept over me.

If you’ve ever been in the ocean, just at the shore, the waves crash and agitate relentlessly. The water is constantly churning the sand and shells to break over and over on land. It’s a washing machine of sorts. And so is our daily-renewed relationship with the Spirit. Grinding down the broken pieces. Smoothing out the rough edges.

The tide of the Spirit comes in and offers up treasures and fruits of the sea. Shells of patience. Drops of love. Foamy, soft breakers of joy. Rolling push-pull of generosity. Sweeping kindness. Salty spray of endurance. Permanence of self-control.

Yes. Water. God is powerful. His waves and breakers have swept over me. He calls to me. Softens me. Renews me.

His love is deep. Deep calls to deep. Love calls to love. It is not trouble I picture. It is mighty power sweeping over, overwhelming my sin. Rescuing me from trouble. Calling me above my weakness. Raising my sunken body from the floor, floating to the top of good. Calling me close. Calling to my depth. Bringing hope to the dark, still bottom that nothing but Water can reach.

Trouble and sin cannot exist where the Water and Light can touch. He has swept away trouble with His power.

His “…power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Or–His function is used in our shortcomings. Does that make sense?

These are just my thoughts. I’m no theologian. But I love this verse and it means so much to me. God calls to my inmost being. The person he created and knew before my parents gave birth. He calls to my soul. He knows me. He has power over me. He rights my wrongs. He is my help. He is within me. And I am made from Him. Deep calls to deep. Kind calls to kind. And I have been swept clean by His mighty force. I have been refined by Your constant loving water.

 

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Owl Haven

I love our new apartment. Condo by the beach. Whatever you want to call it. I call it home.

The exterior is straight-up 70s with a fake, jagged flagstone walkway and mezzanine. (We call it the mezzie, lol) It’s sculpted or stamped cement with painted grout lines. This collection of condos has a horseshoe layout, but horseshoes are lucky, right? Brady Bunch styling, dirty-brown doors, flat roof with shingled, shallow gables. It looks like any roof from a 70s fast food eatery or miniature golf/arcade complex. But it’s surrounded by lush, well-kept palm trees and tropical flowers. Well-trimmed bushes and exotic vegetation. Rock garden with multiple pristine spiral-shaped shells. AND when you walk through that dirty-brown door? The entire interior has been remodeled. New carpet, new appliances, new vanities, new bathtub/shower. New ceiling fan. New granite countertop in the kitchen on top of??? The same old cabinets. Wah-wah. The cabinets are well-worn, but clean-ish. I can work on that. Who has dazzling cabinets? “Put your crap in and shut the door! Worry about it later…or not at all,” is what I tell myself. (Which is something I never tell myself!) Everything else is too beautiful to care. I am not complaining!! Plus, the beach. Sigh. I’m not going to be in my kitchen enough to care what the cabinets look like inside.

I love the old feel and design. New apartments don’t feel like a home. They feel like a big rectangle-ly box with lights. A space that you must carve out on your own. Some people love that. And I get it. But new apartments come with problems, too. Like badly installed plumbing and sinks. Like thermostats that tell YOU what the temperature should be. Like drunk people at the pool. Most Missourians that I’ve met assume Florida is one, big Margaritaville where everyone relaxes on the beach or at the pool with a lady cocktail, tiny umbrella skewering multiple citrus fruits and olives. They pretend to be Floridians by the pool, downing mas cervezas and burning their skin until they’re a dark-golden, fried Twinkie. They don’t do that here. At least on our beach. We go out after 4 pm. We wear sunscreen. We don’t drink on the beach. And we don’t have any tiny umbrellas. It’s usually just our little family of 3 on the beach. It’s nice. All to ourselves.

New apartments come with noisy neighbors. I haven’t heard one person make a peep here. Except a few workmen during the day downstairs. I’m sure it’s different during the busy season. But we have 6-8 months of peace.

At my old apartment, I had a rude upstairs neighbor who used to dance on my head. Dance is too graceful a term for what she did up there. It’s nice not having Twinkle Toes on top of me.

Our apartment building feels like a summer camp dorm on a lake. When all the campers have left. I feel like a kid again on vacation. I feel like I did when we stayed at the Owl Haven Motel in Stockton, MO.

The Owl Haven. Kitchenettes. Wood paneling. Outdoor pool! The Owl Haven still stands.

We stayed at The Owl Haven a few times. Once or twice as a kid, once when I was a bit older, a teen.

I loved it. It was one of the few times that my dad would venture on vacation. He usually had 4-6 weeks off during the year as he was a long-tenured diesel mechanic. He worked at the same company for 25 years. It was a hard job, but came with a few perks. One was a good amount of vacation time.

I think my dad loved fishing. He at least loved being near water. Maybe love is too strong a word for a man like my dad. He enjoyed it. As much as a man with 2 young, noisy kids could enjoy the logistics of making our way to the lake.

It was a 2-3 hour drive. Most Kansas Citians (and KC suburbians), at some point or another, make their way south to enjoy the lakes in Missouri. Truman, Bagnell Dam, Osage Beach, Ozarks, and Stockton. I never heard many kids talk about Stockton as their vacation retreat, but as I said, we went there more than once.

Beautiful. Serene. Not a lot of people. That’s what my dad liked. Not a lot of people. He liked having elbow room. At the dinner table and in life. We moved to 14 acres when I was 5 so Dad could have some elbow room.

He liked being outside, but he also liked A/C. He kept the air conditioner so low that all you had to do, if you were too hot in the summer, is run inside, lay your face down near the floor vent and let the air blow on your hair, teeth and eyeballs for about a minute. Good as new. And he kept the shades drawn most of the time. Our dark-wood paneling and drawn curtains made the inside look like…well, The Owl Haven! lol

The Owl Haven offered an outdoor pool. A coveted asset of the 70s and 80s. In-ground complete with a diving board and slide. For a south-Missouri motel to have such a delightful treat was mind boggling. How? Me want.

My mother allowed us to go to the pool if our older brother went with us. Can we go now?

Can we go now?

Mike?? Can we go now?

We finally went.

Within minutes of being in the pool. I threw up. In the pool. I don’t know why, but I did. It could have been because I just had lunch? It could have been because I usually swallowed a bunch of pool water on accident? It could have been because I was so excited and keyed up for swimming that I bubbled over? I don’t know.

I wasn’t the kind of kid who threw up. Quite the opposite. If it went down, it stayed down. Forever. A lot of food went down, too.

I hated throwing up. Still do. The awful feeling of knowing your insides are about to come outside. I fight it. I fight it for hours. But this urp came out of nowhere.

I just remember everyone being completely disgusted. Mainly because it was chunky. Sorry.

Mike made me sit out for a while. THAT was excruciating! I’m very near a pool and I can’t go in. What a living hell. Cool, clear water. Slide. Diving board. Water, pools and swimming were some of my favorite things. Especially water you could see through.

I didn’t so much like swimming in a pond. We had a pond at home. Turtles. Frogs. Spiders! One summer, our pond had hundreds of dead spiders curled up and floating on the surface. Very strange. But I still went swimming. That should tell you how much I like swimming. I swam with hundreds of dead spiders. Gah!

I eventually got back in the pool. Perhaps when my mom finally arrived. The cold water took her breath away when she dunked herself and her hair back. I thought she had hurt herself. No. Just cold.

“It’s cold??” I thought.

I never felt sick and I never threw up again that day. So strange.

My mom would make balonie sandwiches in the kitchenette. We would take a johnboat out for fishing on the lake. Smell of gas from an outboard motor on the water. Watching Dad steer the boat. Being quiet and watching the trees on the shoreline. It was peaceful. Fun. An adventure. And I feel like that all over again at our little Owl Haven.

Thank you, God, for such an opportunity. I’m so happy.

apartment
There’s that fabled, gabled flat-top roof, but look at that sky! Sigh.

340s

Today, I am 347.6 lbs. I am still steadily losing weight almost every day. There are some days that I don’t lose anything. Those days, however, are few and far between.

I went in for weight loss surgery last December 2016 and since then, I’ve managed to lose 109 lbs. That feels great. Since August 2012, I’ve dropped 166 total. Plus, I’m only 4 1/2 months in. Can you imagine 1 year from now??

It may seem like a pretty standard thing to most people, but at my heaviest, I lost my ability to take a relaxing bath. I always take a shower every day, but occasionally, it’s nice to have a soak. And at 500 lbs, it wasn’t a luxury I could indulge.

So, this last Tuesday, after freezing my toes off most of the day, I thought to try a nice hot bath to warm up. My body temperature is hard to regulate with no thyroid and rapid weight loss. My extremely remote appendages are typically frigid. So, I could either vigorously exercise, throw on a pair of socks or relax in a steamy pool of life-altering suds. Bath it is!

And you know what? I fit. I fit nicely in the tub. With water! More than just a drop! Ain’t that great? I thought so. It was an ordinary achievement in a routine day, but it meant the world to be in the tub again. These small things are what excite me the most.

I can’t wait to fly again! If and when I can afford it. 🙂 Until then, I’ll fly high on my little daily wins.

Trash! (Not the Voss)

FYI: I do NOT buy fancy water. I bought 1 or 2 bottles of Fiji for my daughter (in her entire lifetime) because she likes the bottle. But I don’t like paying for something that is usually free everywhere you go. Bottled water does taste different IMO, but not enough to justify buying a bottle of plastic and adding to the world’s trash problem.


BTW, just as a side note–regarding trash. Yesterday, my family and I were running around town, checking off our weekend to-do list (I usually don’t exit the house on Saturday to avoid people who go anywhere on Saturdays, but we had stuff to do): mailing letters, acquiring new running shoes, cleaning the car that hasn’t been cleaned since vacation! And we dropped off our donate-ables to the Red Racks in downtown Lee’s Summit.

Before we left, we were gathering all of our old clothes for Red Racks (some things don’t fit any more since I lost 100 lbs!) and shoving them into a trash bag. Everything fit inside the bag except an old coat. So my husband zipped the old coat around the trash bag. It looked like a scarecrow. LOL This made it easier to carry everything we had to take. So I started calling the coat-bag Trashcrow. Then as we stepped out our front door, I asked my daughter to grab Trashbuddy. We all laughed. She scooped up Trashbuddy and hugged him all the way to the car. D’aw! Shoulda taken a pic.

Then we stopped at our apartment complex’s trash bin/recycling area and my husband noticed tiny paw prints on the sidewalk. He theorized that raccoons, AKA Trash Pandas, were probably coming across the field and dumpster diving. So, lots of talk about trash animals and people. I just thought it was funny.

But we try to be mindful about trash. <<<—Ah, there’s my point.

Plus, we had to run our errands on Saturday because my husband takes the car during the week for work and we only have one fuel-efficient car. So, we’re trying to do our part. Sort of. This is just planet-ruining, white-suburban, privileged trashguilt-talking. So. Onward. We stopped at TJ Maxx (yes, we’re Maxxinistas) for the shoes.


We had a gift card from Christmas and my daughter needed new shoes. I’ve been shopping several times in the last two days, but I’m seriously NOT a shopper. If you get a gift card, you have to use it. They don’t give you cash any more. Remember the days you could buy some chapstick and get all of the money back?? Yeah. Anyway.

So, I’m standing in line, holding onto the shoes, waiting for the registers to clear and I see some Voss (made in Norway) water.

Now, you should also know, as a side note, that I cannot drink straight-up water any more. MiO I just had weight loss surgery. So, I was really curious if fancy, imported water was actually different and drinkable. It’s been a very frustrating experience not to drink water. Essential life-giver that it is. My stomach just gets crazy wobbly and immediately queasy. 😦

So, at $1.69, with a functional glass bottle to reuse on a daily basis, I thought to give it a try. Plus, $1.69 is not a lot to pay for a glass bottle and water coming all the way from Norway. Right?

Well, guess what??? I can drink fancy Norwegian water with no friggin’ problem. I’ve tried American bottled water, but I still had the same trouble as I did with tap water. I assume it’s something in the water, not the water itself. Unpolluted? Some mineral additive? Water-soaked fish essence from beautiful Norwegian crystal-clear fjords? Idk. But I guzzled it and my stomach was fine!

This makes me happy/sad. Happy that I see now, my stomach is not allergic to water. LOL But sad that American water is somehow bad for my newly-cut stomach? I’m not buying fancy water, but now I know, it’s not me. It’s the tainted water here? My virgin stomach can’t handle treatment chemicals? Makes you think. Makes me think about Flint. Makes me think about our planet. Makes me want to move to Norway and work for Voss. You know, for free water. Possibly.

Stay thirsty, my Friends! For knowledge.

Did any of this make sense??? Hope so.

MiO

Okay, don’t know why. But I can’t drink straight water since my weight loss surgery. I even asked the doctor about it and he said, “Yeah, it’s just one of those weird things about surgery. Other patients have the same complaint.” Which is something you never want your doctor to say.

I have tried tap water, ice water, bottled water, all kinds of water. I can’t drink water. 😦 It makes my stomach hurt for some reason. Like I’m going to puke it right back up.

BUUUT! (that’s a big but) if I put Mio in my water, I can drink it. ??? No problems. So I tried MiO Berry Blast with B vitamins and electrolytes. So good! I need to drink more water, so this helps. I don’t like ingesting chemicals or artificial flavors/colorings all the time, but it’s better than being dehydrated. And it’s better than soda (not supposed to have carbonation, stretches out the stomach) or guzzling tea and/or Gatorade.

So, cheers! Here’s to hydration, no-calorie drinks and getting skinny healthy! *Clink*

Unfailing

Like the ship on a sea,
My body is Home.
You always have rest
Wherever you roam.

To know true Peace
We must struggle and wrestle.
Our cargo is Honesty
Carried far in a vessel.

Don’t give up, please,
Holding through the night.
Words and wisdom will come.
Keep praying for the light.

Like sun in the morning,
Your smile is Life.
Want is not need.
Sacrifice is a Wife.