Doubt Dragon

What do you do when you doubt? Does everyone doubt? What causes it? I think fear and mistrust.

For me, doubt has to be from Satan. I feel it used on me like a scruffy rag raking over eternal scrapes and scabs. I do not like it. It hurts.

The protector in me says to refuse doubt and fear because there’s nothing you can do about disappointment and loss. Not to sound dreadful, but the truth of the matter is that life is going to eventually be filled with other disappointments and losses.

I’ve combated the doubt dragon pretty much all my life. I’ve willingly given up much out of fear of the loss. Mostly alone. It’s not really something you display on your cuff as a pretty ornament on solid white. So covering it up or pretending it away helps the safe feeling to return. Afterall, that seems to be the most logical thing to do since crawling off into a box would most likely get a person institutionalized. So, do what’s needed to choke down the obvious signs of the nearing changes that land in your guts like a box of rocks. If nothing else is there to help, hang it on pride which won’t allow slumping shoulders.

Don’t think that experience will get you the upper hand on the dragon of doubt. It won’t. Just about the time you think the point is yours something eery creeps in to throw you off the security mark, leaving a person to learn to never quite give up the sword.

But I think dwelling on the bad news here is not a good point to leave the reader with. That’s a waste of your time, and mine. That’s never good.

Here’s the good news: When those bumps and bruises of fear and doubt are reopened and the dragon draws his mighty sword remember David as he lay in caves and cravaces trembling at the evidences of the enemy drawing near.

Even being filled with sin and shame, In DAYS OF DOUBT AND FEAR David called upon our real and true God as he knew he was only a trusting fearless boy turned mighty warrior because PEACE had gone before him and prepared the battle ground;

Not for a war less fought; But for battles continuously engaged by dragons wrapped in scruffy rags!

No matter what comes your way, think about the possibility of laying down the sword and turning to the light of His face.

He loves you and me.


Psalm 44: 3 “It was not by their sword that they won the land, nor did their arm bring them victory; it was your right hand, your arm, and the light of your face, for you loved them.”

Tree Worthy

To you it’s just a picture. But to me it is a representation of what was and is.

I had not seen them for many years as they lay wrapped in their tissue and overlooked year after year. As time passed, other things took their place on her tree, like ribbons and Santas, and snowflakes and stars.

It sat there all day as I continued the holiday decorating but my eyes kept returning each time I passed. Not really remembering what was inside I finally stopped my busyness long enough to take a peek. Scribbled across its lid were the words “My old tree ornaments”. Being a little rusty it took some pulling and prodding, but it did finally screech its way free.

In my own silence I took them from the tin in which they were stored and began to examine them to see if they were still “tree worthy”. After all, they have been around for so long that most of them have faded from blue to silver, red to pink, and from a shiny golden tone to a strange mustard color.

Even the tissue was dingy and fragile as I began to unwrap one by one to discover the realization of what these ornaments stood for: Their beginning, our beginning…. my beginning.

It began in the early 1950’s with nothing much to show for but trust, honor and love. But then came year after year of hard work to make it better and undivided dedication to make it last.

I found myself thinking about the truths they exemplified during the years these old tattered ornaments hung on our tree. I remembered him methodically testing each and every bulb on the long, heavy strand to make sure every single one was going to shine. I realize now it was his patience and attention to detail that inspired him. My memory took me back to when I was sitting at the table watching her make peanut brittle, stained glass candy and Martha Washington balls. I could smell the garlic and spices that she used on the mixed cereal snacks that she shared with everyone. She always let me watch her make them and then turned her head as if not to know if I snuck one off the platter.

Those memories brought me to the realization of just how much these old worn out ornaments represent. I doubt they gave much thought to their legacy at the time as they just did what was natural when you trust, honor and love your family.

Today they hang tattered and faded as are the days gone by…

But lest I never forget…

Oh, how tree worthy!