You are currently browsing the monthly archive for January, 2009.
These were compiled for face Book at the peak of the craze… There’s nothing like bearing your soul to anyone who cares to take a look… Here goes mine!
1. I thought I was done comparing my self to others… I thought it no longer mattered what others thought of me. Not yet true… But it is good to know that I’m not the only one who has been growing and maturing through the years; it’s good to finally be more at ease with myself so I can notice the same in others…
2. Sometimes when I look at anything I’ve written, it looks absolutely inspired; other times it looks simply odd and insignificant. I use to always take myself much too seriously… Now it’s only intermittent behavior.
3. I learned to use my height to make myself untouchable, but 26 years ago Eddy eluded the measuring stick and captured my heart. (We’re about the same height, but I still let him believe he is taller…)
4. I didn’t know I had a fear of heights till I rode an elevator up to the top of the Sears Tower… I once hiked all the way from Yosemite’s Glacier Point to Half Dome, but stopped short at the bottom of the final cable ladder because I felt sick.
5. Eddy and I started an alternative church plant, which met weekly in its building for over 5 years. H20 (living source) has now gone building-less, where we still keep in contact with our friends, and are constantly reassessing what “church” really is. We’ve considered changing our name to aquifer.
6. I slipped on some decomposed granite and broke my ankle while looking for rumored dinosaur tracks. What ensued was a 7 hr. surgery by one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the US, and the inability to walk for over a year…. Now about 4 years later, (even though I still have my metal plate and pins) I’m usually able to walk a couple miles at one time, with no pain!
7. I love nature and like to sit alone and take in all its sights and sounds. I also like to 4-wheel drive through our desert with its rugged foothills and dry washes.
8. I like to collect rocks and small boulders for my yard.
9. I like to buy old stuff and make it new, then sell it or give it away to anyone who recognizes it’s value.
10. I don’t like to read; but I’m writing a book.
11. I once worked in a library, but took so long to put the books away that I got to do all the bulletin boards instead.
12. I received the Bank of America Art award when I graduated from high school, but never realized what it meant till I was 45.
13. I use to teach Kindergarten, but discovered that I’m more an artist-decorator than a teacher; I loved it till all the kids showed up…
14. One of my favorite jobs was taking care of the Lodge at Camp Cedar Falls, where I had a small gift shop for a short while.
15. All my life I’ve loved to sing. I haven’t mastered any musical interment, so that’s what my voice has become. Someday, maybe in heaven, I want to learn how to play the drums.
16. When things really affect me or just hang on my mind, I process them into poetry. Some of my poems come in song.
17. I forget what I’m thinking all the time, so my husband got me a scuba writing board for my shower, ‘cause that’s where my thoughts seem to flow most freely… I also keep a journal with me at other times, just incase.
18. My grandmother died when my dad was born; his father was older and in poor health, so gave my dad to his best friends to rise. I’ve been on a 12-year journey to find my father’s Henderson and Reinke birth families, which has been very fun rewarding.
19. I was born in California, and have been to 46 of these 50 United States; but barely into Canada or Mexico, and never across an ocean.
20. I love to travel… especially to places of personal historical value, and would love to go on a trip to the former Eastern Prussia’s Tilsit, (Today’s Sovetsk, Kaliningrad Russia.) and many other parts of Europe.
21. I love to just sit in my car and watch people. Through out my life I have gained much insight by being able to put myself in other people’s shoes. I love to learn through life experiences; yet often times those end up being the life experiences of others.
22. About 5 years ago I became a cat person…I saved a kitten’s life and we’ve been bonded ever since.
23. People use to say that I looked like princess Dianna; that didn’t last long, but I was recently proud to discover that we are both INFP’s
24. I despise force or competition and always opt for win-win solutions.
25. God has blessed me with much… but my very favorite blessings are my husband and my kids.
Come on God! Why send me people?
You’re so good at all that You do-
They rattle my cage- my comfort zone
Life was easy asleep in my pew
So different then us- I can’t understand
He obviously has no money…
She stands to her feet and raises her hands
They hug me- call everyone honey…
My hand across my mouth- I hear a small voice
What God- You speak to them too?
You’ve opened the eyes of their hurting hearts?
Their sharing what they got from You?
Why can’t You speak to me this way?
I pray – I ask for Your leading…
Why can’t I see angels hovering about?
Lord- when will I ever be ready…
“You haven’t gone through what they have
You can not fit in their shoes…
Don’t judge intentions you can’t understand
Just listen and pray to be used”
Oh Lord, please make me willing
Open my deaf ears too
I want to understand the ways of Your heart
I want to be used- only by You!
Eloyce- January 18, 2009
Why do I still go to church? Many of my friends ask the question… and many of my friends don’t go to church any more. Today it’s me who’s doing the asking…
Church is hard for me as I’ve come to realize that many people in my church family are a paralyzing force in my need to be transparent and real. It can be a truly hostile environment for both me and my husband, but we have no alternative place to go. It’s much easier to stay positive, and close to the God who loves me with no strings attached, if I just stay home where it’s warm and inviting. Sometimes I do…
Yet Eddy and I seem to have found our place, sitting in the overflow room where the timid, the misunderstood or unappreciated tend to gather, and slip out before the last hymn; hoping to avoid being noticed. We bring our church toys even though we have no more kids, and pass them out to family’s with children seated about us who are often time visitors. This seems to make church more enjoyable for both of us.
God has blessed me with a love of good music. Although for some, the word good is debatable, this represents a big part of my turmoil I’m feeling right now. I cannot be involved in a way that is meaningful to me, cause I’ve been stamped unapproved. My music; the way through which God speaks to my soul, has been said to be wrong and distasteful. I’ve recently started singing at church again, but only those songs deemed proper by someone else’s standards.
The curse of criticism, (as Eddy refers to it) I think is at the core of me not being able to always feel confident of who God made me to be… to be comfortable in letting people see the real me; in opening myself up to others, even ones who I know are safe. It’s been a life time of conditioning, and now God has been very busy being my protector when I let him… but I don’t always remember to let him.
The even harder part of all this, is seeing other’s who God has brought to my church, who don’t fit in even more obviously than I. I’m not so worried about the ones who do fit in; my heart goes out to the young, the artistic, the musically talented, the sensitive ones who are looking for a little compassion and understanding. (As well as truth, of course!) I so badly want to protect them from the people who have been so judgmental and hurtful and caused so much harm to others in the past, but there’s not a whole lot I can do…
…or is there?
God plunked a bible verse that I’ve never even memorized into my head last week. I love it when He does that… “From death unto life!” were the words that strongly came to my mind while I was finishing up my sculpture. I came home, googled them and found them to be from 1 John 3:14. “We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brethren. He who does not love abides in death.” I believe God put this on my heart, because even though I didn’t initially realize it when I set out to do this project; these words are exactly what my sculpture portrayed… For me, often times “the brethern” are the hardest ones to love… the ones on the platform, and sitting in the front pews with in my family of God. This must be why I still go to church…
Jesus, please help me to love the way You do. The very ones who spat on You and ultimately put You to death, You loved anyway… Your father God sent You here because He sooo loved… People who don’t even realize what harm they are doing; You still love. This is a rare love that’s hard to understand, yet one that You showed brings life. This is what I want… a Love that brings Life!
Last week my prayer
Just one ray of hope
For my best friend so sad
At the end of his rope
No light in his eyes
But the glisten of tears
He hadn’t felt this bad
So helpless in years
The cry from my heart
To my God of the heavens
Send him someone
To help lift his burdens
Seems everyone Lord
Whom you’ve used here before
Is resting in peace
So you can’t send no more
This plea for my friend
I gave up to God
Then I drifted to sleep
On my pillow did nod
This prayer I forgot
Till just yesterday
When the answer from God
Nearly blew me away!
God still does have people
With no hesetation
To be used for His work
On this earth where He’s placed them
Who still hear His voice
Though their lives are not easy
Who have peace and joy
From a God who’s still giving
You answered the call
What courage that took
Sent a ray of God’s hope
Through an odd means-Face Book
Written for Jaunita Kretschmar
By Eloyce Witzel January 13, 2009
Here’s what I’ve wanted to say
Here’s what I want you to know
It’s okay to just be yourself
It’s also okay to grow
Life is a journey of change
You’ll learn this untill you are done
Maturing- transforming as you go
Yet you’ll always be my son
Growing up takes lots of patience
Don’t worry you’ll get lots of tries
‘Cause wisdom and knowledge come gradual
In God’s timing these elements lie
I didn’t know this when I was your age
Thought at 18 that I would arrive…
Then at 20- I met my first love
With a wedding our lives were intwined
In the next faze we had you kids
It was then that I realized
How little of much- I really did know
Being a mom is what opened my eyes
So it’s you who have tought me so much
‘Cause of you I have learned about love
Just a fraction- of the kind that God showed us here
By sending His son from above
It’s not so much what you look like
It’s nothing that you’re going to do
It must be… you’ve captured a chunk of my heart
It’s what I see deep inside you
Eloyce
January 8, 2009
Every perfect gift is from above
It’s God who’s been the giver
An angry cloud wants to distroy
And leave us none the wiser
I am not going to let it
Dump rain on our parade
I’ll share my big umbrella
We’ll march on anyway!
Arm in arm & shoulder to shoulder
We’ll put our heads together
We’ll huddle as we walk in step
In shelter from the weather
This new year is a gift
This parade a celebration
Of all the things weve seen take place
Our lives of exclamation!
I’m honored to walk this rout with you
We’ll make it to the end
Through driving rain sleet hail and snow
On God we can depend!
Eloyce
January 1, 2009
I began researching my paternal grandparents lives in 1997 with the initial encouragement of my oldest brother Dan, and his new wife Janet who also had an interest in genealogy. We thought that our father who was adopted at birth, would like to know the answers to the questions of who we as a family really were. With the initial help of a friend who was experienced in this type of research, it wasn’t long till I became quite intrigued with the tapestry of facts that I began to discover; facts that seemed to weave themselves together reveling an exquisite pattern of depth and authenticity. One discovery would lead to many more questions, holding new clues of where to continue my search for answers. I was amazed at how each bit of information I found fit together like the missing pieces to an old and abandon puzzle.
At first I started writing down all these facts, figures and dates, trying very hard to keep them all in order. I printed out every shred of factual evidence to prove my exciting and new discoveries. I made binders to store information, labeled with surnames as my search widened. It was all so interesting to me and made such sense. I wanted be able to compile our family history and share it with others, especially my father and my children.
I called my dad on the phone one day, to share all my names, facts and dates with him. Not long into our conversation it was obvious to me didn’t seem to be able to take it all in. No problem, I thought. I’d just wait and share it with him in person; you know, if he could see it all on paper, accompanied by my explanations and proof documents; then it would begin to make more sense to him. I remember precisely the comment he did make at the end of our conversation; If I could find all that information, I should certainly be able find his ½ brother Bill… I told him that dead people were easy to find, but live ones? Now, they were a whole different story! And even though we hadn’t seen nor heard from his brother for over 35 years, and Bill was well into his 70’s… we hoped that he was still alive!
It was about this time I realized; there must be a better way; a way to take away the dryness of all these facts and dates that caused others to lose interest in my work… Talking was never my strong suit; so maybe writing a story would be better received. Yes, this is what I needed to do, write a story to preserve and present our family history. I set out on this task of integrating all the researched lives into words; one of putting names, dates, and facts in order. Amongst my paragraphs I made timelines, trees, branches, and a numbered index to all my proof documents.
Soon I realized that what I still had was only a structure of incredible facts, reading much like a history textbook. All crucial and accurate information, yet lacking in the thoughts and feeling that make any story good and interesting. What I now had was only a frame, lacking in the essential flesh and blood needed to raise these dry bones and bring them back to life…
It wasn’t long till my search did lead me to my father’s only living sibling, Bill, who had shared the same mother; his brother whom he had not been in contact with for some 35 years. Uncle Bill’s stories, joined with the memory of my dad’s adopted father Dan’s stories, provided me a litany of family information from the two best storytellers this world has ever known. Uncle Bill was still very much alive, and had ease with speaking that seem to elude my father and most of us kids…
Also in the mix, were bunches of old pictures, many of them unlabeled, which my biological grandfather Gus had given to my father when he was very young. From my research up to that point, and what my father knew from his growing up years, I was able to piece together even more, with this mysterious and priceless collection of years gone by.
Soon I found and began contacting some of my grandfather’s living relatives… One of his youngest nephew’s who was still alive, had some of the same old family pictures that we had in our collection, only his were labeled; it was like he had the key with the answers to my family history test, and 99% of my answers were correct. He also had more pictures, of which helped answer some of my lingering questions. This man remembered my grandfather from when he was young. My grandfather had stayed with their family for a while in the late 30’s, and he especially remembered helping my grandfather build a fence on their back forty.
In the process of my search of facts; in pouring over seemingly minute details in these old and sometimes tattered pictures and vital records, I began to ask myself how must these people have felt, as they went through these documented times of prolonged hardship, loss, prospect, and joy? What must they have been thinking and feeling at these crucial moments of their lives?
This was the path my mind took as I began to contemplate what it was like to be standing in their shoes at those extraordinary times in the history of my country, and to my surprise, the early founding years of my church. I am very proud to report with a sense of shared vision and purpose, overwhelming instances where my family showed loving empathy, care and respect… even for the “black sheep” of our family.
In this new year of 2009, it is my goal to work as much on my book as possible. This includes more research, for there are still holes in the main structure. That will include more trips to places of historical value… more questions… more clues… reviling more answers… Where no answers exist? More creative thought to fill in the gaps with the possibility of what might have been.
Monterey Bay Academy has always been an integral part of my life. My mother graduated in 1954, and in my childhood years, relatives were faculty as my older cousins and siblings attended school at MBA. It was with much family pride and school spirit that I graduated as a four-year student from MBA in 1981, dreaming that someday my children would be honored to be 3rd generation graduates of my own beloved school.
Approximately 10 years later my husband Eddy and I stopped by the campus on our way home from Soquel camp meeting, excited to show our kids where they would be going to school someday… Our oldest son, 7-year-old Brandon’s reaction surprised us! He started to cry, demanding that we leave immediately! He would not get out of the car, and in broken sobs, he stated that he never wanted to come to this school or visit this awful place ever again!
That was the year that we started praying that God would do a work in Brandon’s heart, and that perhaps other Ridgecrest kids would also have a desire to attend MBA and accompany our kids when that time came. The trend amongst Ridgecrest church members was to send their kids to our local Baptist day school, upon graduation from from our 8 grade church school.
In the year 2000, it was an interesting transition for me as I released my school to my children. Brandon moved into the boy’s dorm, sharing a room with two of our dear friend’s kids from Ridgecrest. It was very hard for me to leave… I wanted so badly to be there too, for this school represented four of the best years of my life! But Eddy and I had more children, good jobs and a home in Ridgecrest … That’s where God had placed us for a reason!
Now, some 17 years since that first prayer, I’ve lost count of the Ridgecrest students who have attended MBA. I cant’ even venture a guess, but one year it was as high as 10… Wow, isn’t God good!
