Reflective Thoughts by Chandra Adams

Sunday morning I needed some Jesus when I woke. Pondering my 2014 word for the year, courage, and wanting to finish well, I grabbed a book I've been wanting to finish for years. Then I placed in on my chest and prayed, "Jesus I need you!" As I fanned the pages trying to locate a starting point, I found and read the following highlighted passage: "I (God) am not merely the best version of you that you can think of. I am more than that," ( The Shack )  The best version of me? Is that really what we think, what I think? Clearly my need is far greater than a better version me. After all, I and my lack of or limited abilities are the issue. Pondering the profound words too deep for an immediate answer, I fell back into fanning the pages for a starting point. There it was, a hand written note from a 5-Star friend (those that are know who they are). By the salutation, I could place the time of the note right at about 5 years ago. The message was short. The ca

  The other day I found myself led to read John 2:3 “W hen the wine ran out, Jesus’ mother told Him, ‘They don’t have any wine.’ ” I have to be honest, I wasn’t overwhelmed with enthusiasm as I began to read, after all, been there, done that. But I quickly purposed to “see” it differently. To “hear” His thoughts, and hopefully, to receive His Word for me.   What I saw, was the simplicity of the words spoken by Mary and the directness in which they were asked. Mary, the mother of Jesus, had a relationship with Christ that permitted a direct approach with the facts. She didn’t make excuses. She didn’t taint it with her opinion. Mary simply delivered the facts as they were to the one who could make a difference. She told the truth.   How many times did we hear those infamous words growing up, “Tell the truth and you won’t get in trouble?” Typically they came in sets of two or three, with a promise and rarely did we believe them to be true. So we lied, the very thing that ac

Last spring I started out on an early morning walk my thoughts drifted from myself to everything around me. The air was crisp, waking my aching body, and the sun greeted me with a warm touch. It wasn't long before I heard and recognized an unfamiliar sound, the sound of a military helicopter approaching. It was loud, but comforting. Then another, even closer. These were the unmistakable sounds of our nation’s finest doing their job, defending our freedom. While I met my morning in a leisurely fashion, others were working hard at keeping me safe. The sound was reassuring, yet brought conviction. Like so many others, I had been guilty of taking my freedom for granted. No shame or fault finding, simply my truth. It’s easy to do, when you are safely removed from the everyday sounds of war and safety. Far from my city life and Texas home, I was hearing the sounds of everyday life on base.  I couldn’t help but reflect on my safety. I could walk the streets and choose how my da

The Onion by C. Adams Fresh in it’s original state, crisp, tasteful, aromatic, and even soft to the touch, are words chosen to describe it. Just like you and I. Before used, broken, or cut, it’s potential full, it’s uses, virtually limitless. Just like you and I. Treatment, right or wrong, in the eyes of the user, can change and even destroy, its original state. Just like you and I. Now, dry, fragile and bitter Is how it can be found. Pressed on all sides, broken in pieces, and lost. Just like you and I. Yet, express themselves they do. Overpowering, and even overwhelmingly, at times. Still they manage to compliment their surroundings. Just like you and I. Some may like them, some may not, but useful, they manage too become. Tough on the outside, even mature in appearance. Just like you and I. Still, no matter what they do, in the end, its tears, pain and suffering they cause. Just like yo

Recently while at a Physical Therapy appointment I learned I was doing everything wrong. In fact, I was causing more damage than good. Life is like this sometimes. Our efforts and actions come from a place of good intentions, yet they result in pain and destruction. In pursuit of comfort, I had accommodated the injured parts of my body, catering to them if you will.   I had overextended and weakened some muscles, while restricting and tightening others, resulting in a loss of functionality. This type of behavior was decreasing my mobility and increasing my pain. So many times this type of physical activity parallels our behavior in close relationships. We over extend ourselves, in order to accommodate others. The result, injury. Or at the least, this interaction leaves one exhausted and discouraged. Sadly, the byproduct is similar, a weakened and less effective relationship.  How do we recover from such an injury? Take responsibility. Tighten up. How? Use our muscles properl