Colour therapy

     

     "Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world."

— Reverend Virgil A. Kraft      

     I love colour. One can easily see that by the colourful outfits I choose to wear. Perhaps, that is why I enjoy springtime, with its multi-coloured blooms popping up everywhere. 

     Our senses become awakened, as spring unfolds the beauty of the world surrounding us. 

     

     I thank God that He gave us the ability to see in colour. 

     Recently, I read about colour therapy. It suggested different colours seem to create certain feelings within us. 

Orange suggests a sense of calm and security;

Yellow is a happy colour, getting rid of negative thoughts, helping one to relax and think positively; 

Purple helps to free the mind; 

Blue is restful, aiding mental healing, giving a feeling of inner peace — perhaps why, when we lay on the grass looking up at the blue expanse of the sky, it brings a calm to our spirits;

Green relaxes one physically and spiritually, releasing tension— a drive in the country enjoying the beauty of the green fields and meadows, often brings tranquility, giving a new perspective; 

Red, they say, produces a sense of vitality or energy. Lacking in energy lately, I chose to wear red today. 

     




     
     Maybe colour does help to shape how we perceive life, inspiring the creative potential within us. I'm sure God had his reasons for filling the world with colour, besides the enjoyment we receive from it. 

     

     They say, flowers too, have a language all their own, and carry unvoiced messages. We've heard red roses from a lover, 'says it all!'    Orange blossoms suppose to symbolize chastity and loveliness, often found in bridal bouquets, while white suggests purity. 

     

     Flowers are a delight to the soul and food for the spirit.  

     During several visits lately, to our local The Greenery garden centre, I was again awed to see the huge mass of colour displayed throughout their one acre of greenhouses.  I must confess, I was never one to enjoy getting my hands in the soil. But, I marvelled at the lovely, finished gardens Nels always seemed to produce. 

     But, I believe we encounter the God of Creation as we familiarize ourselves with the work of His hands. God planted a garden in Eden, perhaps in what is today, southern Iraq. 

     He then formed man from the dust of the ground, and placed him in it to work it and take care of it. (Genesis 2:7, 15)   

Isn't it odd 

That a Being like God 

Who sees the facade 

Still loves the clod 

He made out of sod? 

Now isn't that odd? 

— Unknown  

     Could it be, why many experience satisfaction and a quiet sense of peace while working the soil with their hands? 

     

     Gardens become a sanctuary for some — a place to heal, to slow down or, to just enjoy and think pleasant thoughts. God is the perfect Gardener. 

     I like to think of us, His children, as flowers in His great garden of life, each with our own unique aroma, 'spreading the fragrance of the knowledge of Him' (2 Corinthians 2:15). 

     

     The Gardener knows each of us by name. He dearly loves us, whether we are a petunia, a daisy or an orchid.  

     
     Jesus said, "I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener... He prunes every branch so that it will be more fruitful." — John 15:1, 2 

     It is crucial that my life is continually abiding in the vine, so that on-going fruit is being produced.  

"Kind hearts are the gardens; Kind thoughts are the roots; Kind words are the flowers; Kind deeds are the fruits."

— Unknown  

     I'd like to think, that over the years I have planted seeds of influence in the lives of children I've taught, moulding their characters for good.   

     "Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant."

— Robert Louis Stevenson  

     The following poem was the inspiration for the title of my book, Seeds of Love — the gift of words that seemed to help shape my values and outlook on life.  

     

Just scatter little seeds of love, as you pass along your way, 

And sweet flowers of grace and beauty, will spring up day by day. 

Just give a sunny smile and speak a cherry word, 

And the joy of helping others, will bring its own reward.

— beulah

Moooooove over for Mommas

     

     Mother's Day 2014, is behind us, but I still wish to share this cute poem, elevating the place of 'mommas' in our society. I believe it was written as a country ballad, but couldn't seem to find its origin. 

Hall of Fame for Mommas 

He got here red and wrinkled, scared and crying, 
Then she took him, and held him to her breast. 
And he sure was glad to get what Momma offered, 
Then he went to sleep and put his fears to rest. 
It didn't seem to matter what he needed, 
He could always count on Momma to supply. 
And regardless of the sleep she might be losing, 
He always saw a twinkle in her eye. 
She taught him all the attributes of greatness, 
That she knew he couldn't learn away from home. 
And by the time she wore the cover off her Bible, 
Her hair was grey and her little man was gone. 
There oughta be a Hall of Fame for Mommas, 
Creation's most unique and precious pearls, 
And heaven help us always to remember, 
That the hand that rocks the cradle, moves the world.   


     The Edinburg Medical College at Edinburg University is the most famous in all the world. A student there among others, was given an exam to write. 

     One of the main questions asked was, "Which is better for babies, cow's milk or mother's milk?" 

     

     The student after careful thought, wrote the following answer: 
The mother's milk is better because:  

• 1. it's more nutritious 
• 2. it's more hygienic  
• 3. it's easier to take on a picnic 
• 4. it's containers are nicer, and lastly, 
• 5. the cat can't get at it.    

     How amusing are answers given by young children in response to questions regarding mothers. Enjoy the following: 

• 1. Why did God make mothers?  

Answer — Think about it, it was the best way to get more people. 

• 2. How did God make mothers? 

Answer — He used dirt, just like the rest of us. 

• 3. Why did God give you your mother and not some other mom? 

Answer — We're related. 

• 4. What ingredients are mothers made of? 

Answer — God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean. 

• 5. What kind of little girl was your mom? 

Answer — I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty bossy. 

• 6. How did your mom meet your dad? 

Answer — Mom was working in a store and Dad was shoplifting. 

• 7. Why did your mom marry your dad? 

Answer — My grandma says that mom didn't have her thinking cap on. 

• 8. Who's the boss at your house? 

Answer — Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed. 

• 9. What does your mom do in her spare time? 

Answer — Mothers don't do spare time. 

• 10. What would it take to make your mom perfect?

Answer — On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.

— beulah

On this, another Mother's Day

   

     "The hand that rocks the cradle moves the world." 

 — William Ross Wallace (1865)

     On this, another Mother's Day, I find my heart bursting with gratitude. To many of you, like myself, we stand in awe of our grown children. To those of you who are still serving, know that you are in the greatest career of all time — motherhood. 

     The following is a beautiful tribute to all who embrace the holy privilege of guiding young lives to adulthood. 

     I wish I could give credit to the author who has so accurately captured the true essence of motherhood. 

     Finding it in my files, I thought it too delightful not to share. The power of a mother's love cannot be underestimated.   

     "The young mother set her foot on the path of life. 'Is this the long way?' she asked. And the guide said,'Yes, and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But, the end will be better than the beginning.' But the young mother was happy and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So, she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams, and the sun shone on them, and the young mother cried, 'Nothing will ever be lovelier than this.' 

     Then the night came, and the storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle. The children said, 'Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come.' 

     And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But, at all times, she said to the children, 'A little patience and we are there.' 

     So the children climbed, and when they reached the top they said,'Mother, we would not have done it without you.'

     And the mother, when she lay down at night, looked up at the stars and said, 'This day is better than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday, I gave them courage. Today, I've given them strength.' 

     And the next day brought strange clouds which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil. The children groped and stumbled, and the mother said, 'Look up. Lift your eyes to the light.' 

     And the children looked, and saw above the clouds an everlasting glory, and it guided them beyond the darkness. 
  
     And that night the Mother said, 'This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God.'"     

     So, shouldn't our ultimate aim as mothers, be just that?

— beulah

A man of integrity and goodwill

The Eagles boys Ernie (left), Nelson, Gesner, Gordie, Lawrence and Basil with their father Edgar.

           

     Why is it that life suddenly becomes more precious when we lose a loved one or a dear friend?

     This past week our family has been mourning the loss of another family member — my late husband's youngest brother, Ernie Eagles. 

     

     In my moments of reflection, I began to realize just how much these brothers had resembled each other; not only by their handsome, similar good looks (at least in their earlier years) — and their warm persona — but also in their strong and quiet composure. 

     The posted messages of condolence regarding my brother-in-law, contained such comments as — "respected", "influenced my life", "never heard an unkind word nor saw an unkind deed." 

He was obviously a man of integrity and goodwill. 

     What an example for his family and community! The legacy he left will live on in his family and through the lives of the many he touched. 

     Our Heavenly Father, who was Ernie's guide throughout his lifetime, had sovereignly determined Ernie's span of life on this earth, and had written it in His royal register. 

     "All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

 — Psalm 139:16

     Our bodies, though fearfully and wonderfully made by our Creator (Psalm 139:14), finally do grow weary, and our heart ceases to function for various reasons. 
     
     I recently read these amazing facts: 

"Our hearts pump at a rate of 70-75 beats per minute. Weighing approximately 11 ounces, a healthy heart pumps 2,000 gallons of blood through 60,000 miles of blood vessels each day. Every day the heart creates enough energy to drive a truck 20 miles. In a lifetime, that is equivalent to driving to the moon and back. A healthy heart can do amazing things. But when it malfunctions, our whole body shuts down."  

     The same can happen to our "spiritual heart." When the word "heart" is spoken of in the Bible, it represents the centre of our emotions, thinking and reasoning. 

     It really is the "command centre" of our life. 

     Proverbs 4:23 says, "Guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." 

     To avoid a spiritual heart attack, we need to daily align our hearts with our Heavenly Father's, by reading His Word and keeping the door of communication wide open.

     
     I have posted a hyperlink to the website with Ernie Eagles' In Memorium above. It is also copied and pasted below.

— beulah

Music to my ears

Okanagan Festival Singers, directed by Leroy Wiens

      

     What a delightful, musical treat I experienced last weekend! 

     None other, than a spring concert featuring the Okanagan Festival Singers of Kelowna, along with a guest choir —Serious Options, from Kamloops. 

     The repertoire each choir chose, was diverse and interesting with a musical taste from different countries of the world. 
     

     I must confess I favoured the Serious Options choir with their unique and smooth presentation. Could it be because Carolyn, my lovely daughter-in-law, was one of the choristers? 

     

Serious Options, directed by Noralee Quast

     
     
     I was impressed to see the group consisted of a variety of singers of varying ages, and pleased to see the enthusiastic participation of several young males. I would like to have seen a few more smiles on more faces like Carolyn's happy one. Kudos goes to both directors, evidently both gifted conductors. 

     The great choral sound was "music to my ears."  

     

     I have had a love of music for as long as I can remember. I found my alto voice as a very young child, harmonizing with my siblings, performing often at community events. 

     Having realized I was blessed with a God-given talent, I desired musical training, and did get to do studies in piano. 

     However, in my era, opportunities were not as available as they are now. Music has continued to enrich my life, and I now see this gift being carried on through my children and their children's lives.     

I Am Music   

I am Music, most ancient of the arts. 
I am more than ancient; I am eternal. 
Even before life began upon this earth, 
I was here — in the winds and waves. 
When humanity came, I at once became the most delicate, most subtle and most powerful medium for the expression of emotions. 
In all ages, I have inspired people with hope, kindled their love, given a voice to their joys, cheered them on to valorous deeds, and soothed them in times of despair. 
I have played a great part in the drama of life, whose end and purpose is the complete perfection of human nature. 
With the aid of humanity, I have become a Fine Art. 
I have a myriad voices and instruments. I am in the hearts of all and on their tongues, in all lands among all peoples. 
For I speak to All, in a language that all can feel. 
Even the deaf hear me, if they but listen to the voices of their own souls. 
I am the food of love. 
I have taught people gentleness and peace; and I have led them onward to heroic deeds. 
I am comfort for the lonely, and I harmonize the discord of crowds. 
I am a necessary luxury to all. 
I am Music.     

— Anonymous

— beulah