Did you see me today when I opened up my face to the world? God created me to give you the gifts of wonder and joy. He placed me in your path. So, did you see me today?
Did you see me today when I changed my garments from spring green to a deep summer hue? Did you marvel at how God created me to make that glorious transformation?
Did you see me today when I lined the blades of grass you passed sparkling with all the glory and fire of the world’s most lovely diamond?
God placed me in your life to create joy and wonder. But…did you see me?
“The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah 40:8
Did you see me today when I opened up my face to the world? God created me to give you the gifts of wonder and joy. He placed me in your path. So, did you see me today?
Did you see me today when I changed my garments from spring green to a deep summer hue? Did you marvel at how God created me to make that glorious transformation?
Did you see me today when I lined the blades of grass you passed sparkling with all the glory and fire of the world’s most lovely diamond?
God placed me in your life to create joy and wonder. But…did you see me?
“The grass withers, the flower fades, but t he word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah 40:8
Because I used to consider myself an artist—before I realized that I was a “copyist,” not an artist—and because I’ve spent most of my adult life painting signs, I have a highly developed sense of colors.
For years I’ve been flummoxed by folks who call orange “yellow” or green “blue.” And how can anyone survey rows of lavender flowers and call them “blue,” instead of purple? Fortunately, I am learning. I am slowly realizing that I have no right to assign to others the task of seeing colors the same way I do. God created them. He created their eyes. Their cones—the part of our eyes that sees color—may be different than mine. My task is to allow them their sight.
With my husband hospitalized, my brother-in-law and I have been spending a large amount of time together. No matter what our conversation, he responds, “Oh, I see.” But clearly—he doesn’t. At least, he doesn’t see the way I see because he misses the point I was attempting to make entirely and draws a totally different conclusion. At first it irritated me because I was endeavoring to explain things so clearly and concisely, and he would respond, “Oh, I see,” and trot out an entirely different scenario.
I am gradually learning to allow him his sight. His life experiences have colored his understanding a different color than my life experiences have colored my understanding.
Some things are without question right and some things are without question wrong. These things are worth fighting for or against and upholding as a standard. God wants that. But God has no interest in which hue on the color chart becomes orange instead of yellow, or green instead of blue. He created all colors.
God created us and gave us free choice. If God allows us to experience life through the color chart that He assigns for us—why should we expect others to walk in our chart instead of the one that God destined for them?
Our task is to allow others their sight.
“For we walk by faith, not by sight.” 2 Corinthians 5:7
I don’t think a single day passes that I don’t say at some point in the day, “I am blessed.”
When I share a Facebook post of someone rescuing a skunk and adding it to their family, I say to myself, “I am blessed that we had a skunk when we were kids.”
When a picture of Scotland’s Loch Ness pops up on the TV along with a report about searching for the Loch Ness Monster, I say to myself, “I am blessed that I’ve been to Loch Ness and searched for Nessie.”
When I walk Savannah and see a lovely flower, I say to myself, “I am blessed to have seen this flower today.”
God has poured out blessings into my life. He began pouring out blessings into my life even before I knew Him. He put me in places and engineered experiences in my life that infuse themselves into the cozy mysteries I write.
I am blessed to have lived in Georgia, Alabama, Texas, Nevada, California, Idaho, and Scotland. I have walked to the end a Scottish road to take photos of leaping dolphins. I have explored the Great Basin Desert in Nevada and watched a mountain lion melt off a rock along the trail. I have panned and prospected for gold in California and Nevada. I know how to pan for gold in rivers and how to operate a wet washer and a dry washer on land.
I am blessed to have poured concrete slabs, built rock flowerbeds, rocked the sides of a house and garden center—and been hired as a landscaper for other jobs. I am blessed that I learned to touch type. I am blessed to have worked as a staff writer for newspapers and have met extraordinary and interesting people—including the governor of Texas who later became President.
I am blessed to have caught and released snakes and horned toads and rescued wildlife. When I see news about a wild raven that has adopted a person—I remember my son Luke rescuing and raising ravens in the Nevada desert including Rap who lived in our house with us, a cat and a dog, and integrated himself into the family. I remember Rap flying along behind Luke when Luke rode his bicycle or four-wheeler, riding on our shoulders when we took a walk, and chasing away any perceived “enemy” threat approaching our house. I am blessed.
I am blessed to have watched a Gila monster, picked olives, walked through citrus fruit orchards, learned to drive in snow, been caught in a tumbleweed circus in the desert, watched porcupines and coyotes trail through my yard, explored ghost towns, ridden horses, had a fox and a raccoon as pets, smelled out possums in the Georgia woods, and to have been raised with completely awesome sisters and brothers: Leslie, Gregory, Vicky, Jerry, Jeff, and Chris.
I am blessed that my grandmother taught me to make hot chocolate and yeast rolls from scratch and how to make gravy.
I am blessed that I survived the bad, painful, and horrific events in my life: constant rape and sexual abuse as a child; a horse kick in the face; getting impregnated twice by the abuser and having two backwoods abortions—nearly bleeding to death followed by hospitalization; an African lion bite on my stomach; a venomous water moccasin bite on my hand and a trip to the hospital in a taxi from another town because Grandmother was having a feud with the local taxi company; marrying a mentally unstable alcoholic to get away from home; contemplating suicide following the unfaithfulness of said alcoholic husband; nursing terminally ill husband number two through cancer and staying at his side until he left for heaven; back surgery, knee surgery, hip surgery followed by an infection which kept me in the hospital for three months and caused diabetes from the constant antibiotic drip; being the sole caregiver of husband number three who has cancer and Parkinson’s Disease…and the most painful experience of all, losing son Luke in a plane crash when he was only 49. I am blessed to have survived, to be able to encourage others, and to be able to dip into life experiences and splash them into the 48 Christian cozy mysteries which I’ve written. (Only 46 available at the moment.)
I am blessed to have lived under a bridge in the back of a pickup truck. I am blessed to have lived in an open-ended garden center with no running water and to have been gifted hay bales to stack up in the winter to cut off the wind and block the cold. I am blessed to have watched baby birds hatch from overhead hanging baskets in the garden center and have them flutter into my lap while I sat quietly in a chair.
I am blessed. Every flower that I see, every bird that I hear, every new place I visit makes me realize how blessed I am.
The greatest sorrow of my life: losing Luke and living so far away from granddaughter Dulcinea.
The greatest blessing of my life: discovering that God is real and that He loves me.
“You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You.” Isaiah 26:2
When I was a kid in school, the ultimate insult was to call someone a “bird brain.” Thankfully, I made it through school before the “F” word hit. I was in junior high school before I ever heard it. I went home and asked my mother what it meant.
Birds are admirable. When my son Luke and I lived in the Great Basin Desert in Nevada, we rescued a baby raven. Luke named it “Rap.” Rap followed Luke and our dog when Luke rode his bicycle or 4-wheeler. Rap chased strangers away from our house. We lived on an alfalfa farm. Rap flew into the barn everyday at noon and walked up and down the long table accepting offerings from farm workers who met to eat their lunches. When Luke’s stepfather worked on the truck, Rap brought him tools—but we soon learned that if he wasn’t watched—Rap would fly off with any tool he fancied. Also in the desert, Luke and I watched ravens drop rocks on marauders to protect their nests.
Striated herons in Asia catch fish by floating bait to lure them close enough to strike. The woodpecker finch from the Galapagos Island extracts insect larvae from tree crevices with a thorn. Egyptian vultures use stones to crack large eggs. Here in Dunoon, Scotland, seagulls drop shells down onto pavement to crack them open so they can extract the residents. Breakfast served.
Jesus said not even a sparrow drops to the ground without God knowing and caring. In Jesus’ day, birds were used as currency.
Old miners on the edge of the desert in Unionville, Nevada, keep magpies as pets and teach them to talk. My grandmother had a parrot who watched TV. The first thing he ever said—mimicking a commercial that was popular at the time—was, “I can’t believe I ate the whole thing.” After that—he was unstoppable. When anything upset him, he would say “poor Popeye,” in a pathetic sounding voice. In the mornings he would call Grandmother and say, “Maybelle, coffee, toast. Popeye wants breakfast.”
All these things are indeed admirable—but none is the reason I admire birds and their intelligence so much. What I most love about birds is their understanding of and deep dependence on God’s will in their lives. Especially in nesting. At the right time each spring, birds nest. Gales can be alive with 80 mph winds, late snowfall can blanket the land, trees can remain bare-branched, flowers heads can linger under the soil—yet the birds nest. They make no excuse for hardship, inclement weather, or turbulence. God’s wisdom tells them it is time to nest…so they nest…regardless of adversity.
Sadly, some people quit nesting in the loving arms of Jesus as soon as trouble trips into their lives. They rehearse all the excuses: how can I believe in God when He let something bad happen to me? I’m living a good life. Why doesn’t God keep all these troubles away from me? I had more friends before I became a Christian. Following Jesus is too hard.
We live in a fallen world. That’s not God’s fault. He never planned for the world to be flawed. Sin entered into the world with Adam and Eve. Before sin entered, there was no death, no violence, no anger—the Garden of Eden was perfect. Animals and people were friends and God walked in the garden with His creation. But when sin slipped into the perfect world…blight replaced perfection.
Birds don’t argue politics. They don’t assume their way is the only way. They fly above contention and discord…and they keep on nesting.
Jesus said, “Do not worry…Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them Are you not of more value than they?” Matthew 6:26.
Jesus has the credentials to declare value. He lifted up His arms and died on the cross to deliver us from our sins, and He rose again on the third day to live forever. With us if we nest with Him.
A news report showed up over here in Scotland. The headline: “Why Great White Sharks Won’t Enter the Gulf of Mexico.” Immediately after that—I learned that scientists are currently tracking five great white sharks in the Gulf of Mexico, and that great whites frequent Florida’s waters, especially in the winter.
Fortunately, I already knew not to trust the news media during the covid scare when those vulnerable to fear rushed to get vaccinated and are now suffering strokes, heart attacks, and brain injuries at an early age. The vaccine gave my husband Alan Parkinson’s Disease. He’s in the hospital now—again. I didn’t get the vaccine. I didn’t take the vaccine because I am immune to scare tactics, both because I read and believe the Bible which says, “do not fear,” and because I’m a Texan—and Texans tend to be immune to bullying tactics.
There is nothing new in pushing false information—even in schools. When I was in first grade in a Georgia school, we were given pages to color for “fun.” It wasn’t fun for me when the teacher made me color my picture over again because I had used the “wrong” colors. She told me sternly, “tree trunks are brown, the sky is blue, grass is green. She was pushing false information—teaching a lie.
Here in our part of Scotland, the sky is seldom blue. It is usually grey. As for tree trunks, oak and olive trees have grey bark. Madrona tree trunks are pink. Aspen trees have white bark. Young palm trees have green trunks. Rainbow eucalyptus trunks splash vividly with all the colors in a box of crayons—just like my first grade picture that the teacher made me recolor.
Not all reference books are accurate either. My parents bought me a book on herpetology when I was a kid. I read that book from cover to cover several times because of my interest in snakes. It stated that snakes do not come out at night. Therefore, when I got back to my birth state of Texas and heard Charley Pride singing, “The snakes crawl at night, that’s what they say, when the sun goes down. Oh, the snakes will play,” I made fun of that song. I told friends it was inaccurate because snakes don’t come out at night. Turns out my treasured snake guide was wrong; snakes are active both day and night, and I thank the Lord for protecting me all the times I bounded through wilderness after dark with no expectation of meeting a venomous snake. Some of the best photos of rattlesnakes on my Facebook feed are from Arizona—and were taken at night.
Safeguarding us from false information is the Bible. Critics like to claim that it is “full of contradictions.” It isn’t. People who make that claim have never read it for themselves and allowed their hearts and spirits to be amazed and abashed by how this Book—the Word of God that was written nearly 3,000 years ago—is still true and applicable today. Consider the prophet Isaiah. He accurately predicted the birth and death of Jesus in 700 BC. When Christopher Columbus read in Isaiah that “God sits above the circle of the earth,” it gave him courage to sail across the ocean and discover new worlds in an age when most believed the earth was flat and ships would fall off if they sailed too far.
There is simply no way to demonize the message of love and grace that came into the world with Jesus and pins the Bible together: love others and put them first. Forgive others and be forgiven. Believe in Jesus and gain everlasting life. That is a report that the news media can ignore and attempt to silence—but can never overcome, because love is stronger than hate, and lies are but for a moment. Truth is everlasting.
Because pushing my husband in a wheelchair and pulling him around the house in his potty chair since he can’t walk has increased the size of my knuckles, I can no longer wear my wedding ring. My husband lost so much weight over the five months he spent in the hospital that his wedding ring was too large—and he lost it. So neither of us wear our wedding rings—but the missing wedding rings do not mean that we are not still married. The rings were merely a symbol of our marriage. A label.
Changing labels does not change reality.
William Shakespeare perhaps said it best in 1595 when he wrote ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Changing the name of the flower does not change the rose.
Geologists often abandon BC—Before Christ, and AD—After Christ’s Death, for BP—Before the Present. Astrologists often replace BC and AD with CE for Common Era and BCE for Before Common Era. These new labels do not negate the fact that we celebrate Christmas as the time that Jesus Christ, God’s own Son, came to earth to live as a man and experience everything we experience so He could understand our trials and temptations and deliver us from them, and so that we could see our God in human flesh. It does not negate the fact that more than 2,000 years ago, Jesus Christ died on a cross and was sealed away in a tomb that could not hold Him. He is Risen. Christians have no grave to visit and reverence. We have an empty tomb.
Labels are tricky things. Easy to change—but impossible to change.
God’s immutability: “It is impossible for God to lie. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast.”
Don’t let human applied labels and criticism wear you down. You are fearfully and wonderfully made and God loves you and has a plan and purpose for you.
Approximately 200 years ago, rock masons tamed Dunoon, Scotland, corralling houses, streets, and green spaces behind unending lines of rock fences of various heights and shapes, from ornate curved with little houses attached to the back for coal storage to basic. The years have whisked by with changes to property ownership and streets. The rock fences have remained unchanged.
Sadly, no written record exists to tell the history of the rock fences or to name the rock masons who built such marvelous structures. I’ve searched. It would seem that the rock fences and their builders were deemed too common place and unappreciated to warrant mention. And, yet, year after year—the rock fences remain silently and steadfastly doing their job.
Some of us can relate to the rock fences. Years pass as we faithfully perform the charges that God has given us—often without recognition or reward. Should we ever feel unappreciated and undervalued, we should think of rock fences and the burdens they so faithfully carry with no accolade. Year after year they make the world around them a better place. They don’t get praise for their existence, but they would be missed if they were gone.
Even better, remember Jesus: “Who being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of man. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled Himself, and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross.” Philippians 2:6
“Jesus was made a little lower than the angels, for the suffering of death…that He, by the grace of God, might taste death for everyone.” Hebrews 2:9
My morning cup of coffee is a Diet Coke. So, too, other members of my family even though our parents drank coffee from waking up to going to bed. I keep saying that when I grow up—I’ll learn to drink coffee.
I don’t have a problem with coffee. I love the smell. I don’t have a problem with folks depending on it to kick start the day. That’s why I drink my soda. But I don’t share or like the coffee memes on social media that intend humor while offering excuses for bad behavior and elevating coffee to divine status: I can’t function until I’ve had my coffee; don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee; my sanity is in a cup—a cup of coffee; coffee saves lives—ask my kids; humanity runs on coffee; great ideas start with coffee, today’s good mood is sponsored by coffee.
Memes that credit coffee with super powers it does not possess take our focus off Jesus, the Savior of the world and give our praise to an inanimate object instead of God.
We don’t need coffee to function—we need God. We couldn’t take the next breath without Him. Great ideas start with God. God controls humanity, not coffee. Today’s good mood is a choice—our choice—regardless of whether we start off the day with coffee, a soda, tea, water, etc. If we breathe, that breath comes from God.
“In Him we live and move and have our being.” Acts 17:28.
But as for chocolate…a balanced diet is chocolate in both hands…
I hate labels. Every person God created is unique, special, and priceless. Not every person has the same talents, gifts, or outward appearance—but each person is born with the fire of God burning in their souls.
Labels separate and divide. “Black Lives Matter.” “White Lives Matter.” All lives matter. All life matters.
Labels are destructive, not instructive. Allowing people to choose their pronouns makes about as much sense as referring to Mount Everest as a “hill” so people in other countries won’t be offended that their mountains are not the tallest in the world. Or deciding that it’s okay to run through a campfire with bare feet because you have designated the burning embers “water.” Labels do not change reality.
This fallen world will never be perfect. We are all travelers passing through. Some spend less time here than others—but no one stays. Nor do humanly-mandated labels. You can slap a label on a can of green beans and call them “Peaches,” but they will still be green beans. I could print posters labeling me as a professional singer—but no one would hire me. I can’t carry a tune—not even in a dump truck.
If a person convicted of violent crimes escapes from prison and the police are forced to use the pronoun “they” to keep from using he, or she—and that same person is loose in your neighborhood and has already killed someone and the police warn you to watch for they and call them immediately if you see they—what the heck are you looking for?
God is a God of order and common sense. Humans can attempt to delete God from their lives by labeling Him out—but it won’t change His creation. Humans can’t move Mount Everest even if they call it a hill. A baby in a mother’s womb is a person, a separate entity from its mother with its own DNA—not tissue or a blob. Abortion doesn’t make a woman unpregnant; it makes her the mother of a dead child even when abortion is labeled “choice.”
Politicians can rant attempting to sway voters with oration; movie companies can throw paint on evil and ugly attempting to transform it into good, and media outlets can choose their own agendas…but Mount Everest won’t fall down—and someday—all humans will fall regardless of the labels they have chosen for their lives.
There are only two labels in this world that make a difference: good and evil. Everything good is from God. Everything bad is from satan. The only eternal labels that exist are accepting God or rejecting God.
“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Galatians 3:28.
As for being a “hill” or a “Mount Everest” in this life; “You shall love your neighbor as yourself, but if you show partiality, you commit sin.” James 2:9.
Stephanie Parker McKean 