Yours Forever!

By Hazel Holland

You lead us beside quiet waters.  You restore our souls. 
Psalm 23:2-3

Whenever You call my name, Lord, my heart leaps at the sound of Your voice.  I'm eager to follow Your lead now that I no longer want to go my own way.  

As You lead me beside still waters, You quiet my anxious thoughts.  You satisfy my hunger and quench my thirst from Your storehouse of endless delights.  Your arms pick me up when I'm wounded.  Your shoulders carry me when I've lost my way. 

But what changed my heart from the inside out was the day I accepted Your grace.  When You rescued my soul from certain death, You captured my heart with Your love!

(One of my favorite watercolors that my grandmother painted years ago of sheep grazing amongst purple heather on the Yorkshire moors.  It came back to life with the aid of my digital camera, and a little help from Microsoft Office Picture Manager to brighten the faded areas).

Winter Wonderland

By Hazel Holland

I would much rather look at snow scenes from the comfort of a warm house or a warm car than from actually being out in the snow and feeling the cold.  I remember when I painted this watercolor years ago I could see the snow on the distant mountains, but I didn't have to crunch through it to get to my car.  But that is soon going to change.

I just came home from spending a wonderful Christmas with my family where the winters are cold and snow isn't just reserved for the mountains.  So next winter I will have to get use to leaving the comfort of my warm home and crunching through snow to warm up my cold car. 

This will be a big adjustment.  It's been 37 years since I left the cold winters of Ohio and moved to California, and even more since I left Michigan and England.  But the four seasons will be a welcome change even though I don't relish the cold winters...

I will enjoy watching new plants push their way through melting snow as they offer their natural beauty to Springtime. The less humid summers with two-digit temperatures is another reason to make this move.  The vibrant fall colors won't just be in the mountains, but along the streets, and hopefully in my own back yard.

By the time winter comes around again I hope I will be ready to embrace the snow that can make winter a wonderland! 

Down By the Old Mill Stream

By Hazel Holland

When I painted this watercolor of an old mill scene many years ago it was to try and capture the mood of this beautiful rural setting.  I didn't want to forget the charm and quaintness of the way things use to be.  It reminded me of idyllic times in the past when life seemed to be more carefree and less complicated.

And a part of me wants to return there often.  I want to breathe deeply of the fresh air that I feel on my face.  I want to sit under the old oak tree with a good book, and listen to the old mill stream lap at my feet.  Seems there was no need to hurry back then.  Time stood still forever.

Our memories of yesterday down by the old mill stream seem to rejuvenate our spirits.  We recapture our forgotten youth as we watch the mill wheel slowly turn and remember our first kiss.  We know it was summertime back then because the leaves on the oak tree were in full bloom... and we were in love. 

But now the leaves have fallen.  The oak tree is bare and winter is here.  We preferred the summer.  But the seasons change.  And with each new season comes new memories.  The old memories will always be there as a foundation upon which to build the new.  

But we cannot live our lives in the past.  We must live in the present.  Although once we were in love and forever young, now love has come to maturity.  It has more meaning in our lives than a fleeting kiss down by the old mill stream  To love others is a choice.

We have grown wiser and stronger like that old oak tree.  Our ability to love others has grown deeper as we choose to love them more for their sake and less for our own.

We will weather the storms of life far better if we choose to live each moment in the present.  I know that we all take trips back to the old mill stream.  But when we do, tomorrows dreams remain waiting to be experienced...  And we can only experience them as we are present in our lives.  Living in the past we can never hope to fulfill the destiny God has for us now. 

So let's take the best from all our yesterdays and bring them into the present.  For it is in the present that God chooses to dwell in us and we choose to live in the Spirit.  It is in the present that we experience His joy...not back at the old mill streams of our lives.  No matter how beautiful and peaceful we remember those mill streams to be, they are nothing compared to the joy that comes with living in His presence now.

Ordinary Pleasures

By Hazel Holland

A Rich Heritage

By Hazel Holland

"Westcot", my great grandfather's sister's house in  Devon, England, painted by my grandmother in 1928! 

This is one of grandmother's water color paintings that she painted in 1928, and that I had tucked away in a manilla folder for safe-keeping.  I was delighted when I recently discovered it, because forgotten memories and lost dreams can now be restored with the aide of a digital camera!  A little help from Microsoft Office Picture Manager... and the painting came back to life.

And with it came a flood of fond childhood memories... the good times spent at my grandparent's home in Hertforshire, England.  In fact this painting resembles their house and English garden. 

My grandmother planted and took care of the flowers, and my grandfather raised the vegetables and fruit.  Geraniums were grandma's favorite flower to grow, even though as a child I couldn't understand why because they never smelled pretty.  And my grandpa's vegetable garden and apple orchard were his pride and joy and the envy of anyone who saw it.

Practically everything we ate we grew.  And whenever we needed something from the store my grandmother would put it on the shopping list, and grandfather would pick it up on his Friday shopping trip.  He could have ridden the bus to the shops downtown, but he always preferred to walk the three miles.  Sometimes the return trip home would take him a little longer than usual, and I would hear my grandmother mumbling under her breath as she looked at the clock: "You should ride the bus home George... and not be so stubborn!"

But he never did.  He took his time walking the three miles home because he preferred to stop along the way and admire people's gardens, and perhaps chat with a stranger or two.  People would recognize him when they saw him walking with his cane and shopping bag, and he would tip his hat.  He was in no hurry.  He had time to smell the flowers... 

I enjoyed smelling flowers, too.  As a child I liked picking raspberries and strawberries in the early morning while the dew was still clinging to the fresh fruit.  Digging up new potatoes with grandpa and counting how many peas were inside each pod was always fun.  

Most people wouldn't eat raw rhubarb or sour gooseberries before breakfast, but I did.  Never mind that later I sometimes got an awful stomachache... Grandma's Andrews Liver Salts (antacid) always worked... and I loved the fizzy feeling in my mouth!

So many more outdoor memories I have, but I have wonderful indoor memories as well.  My grandmother loved to paint, and I was eager to learn.  She gave me my first art lesson in mixing watercolors when I was seven, and I found out the hard way that it wasn't as easy as it looked.  I discovered quite quickly that "mud" was an easy color to make!   

But it was exciting to see how the colors would change when they were mixed together.  I immediately wanted to make beautiful pictures like she did, but my grandmother was wise.  She gently told me that it would take time, and that I must be patient, and that I must keep practicing.

But it wasn't just art that she taught me...  It was sewing and knitting and crocheting and making doll houses out of large cardboard boxes with real glass for windows, and matchbox furniture.  

She taught me how to play the piano and the auto harp.  And on special occasions she would put my hair up in rag curls at night so that I would have beautiful ringlets the next day.  The list went on and on...  

There was never a dull moment at grandma's house, because she always had time to listen to my childish dreams.  Sometimes she'd even let me eat a cookie or candy between meals... a treat that was never allowed at home.  

Christmastime was the best time of all because I loved the way Grandma's house smelled.  It wasn't just the Christmas tree, the holly berries, or the gingerbread men...but all the wonderful smells that brought back the good memories of the closeness we felt and the love that we shared whenever we were together.

So if you're a grandma or grandpa reading this post right now, grasp every opportunity you can to spend quality and fun time with your grandchildren.  Their little minds are so open and receptive to learning new things.  So find out what they like to do and what makes them happy...  

Then share with them age appropriate things that you liked to do when you were a child, and see what their response is.  More than likely they will be excited to use their minds and hands to create something from their hearts as you sit by and gently guide them.  You'll know that you're a success when you see the pure joy on their faces!

As I look back on my childhood memories...the ones that made the greatest impression on my young mind were the many times grandma and I spent time doing things together.  I learned many life-changing lessons from her loving spirit and patient example. 

My grandmother's actions made me feel like she had taken me into her heart.  That's why I never got tired of the burnt toast and scrambled eggs and cheese she fixed for breakfast every morning because they were prepared with love... and I knew it. 

What a rich heritage I've been given. It wasn't material things that were important to my grandparent's, but loving relationships.  How blessed I am to have experienced this at a young age, and now recognized as an adult.  

My rich heritage has not been in houses or lands or the tangible "things" of this life, but in the intangible things of the heart.  I've inherited a gentle spirit and a compassionate heart, and a great desire to help others learn how to protect their important heart-to-heart relationships, too.

 

Broken for Blessing!

By Hazel Holland

"And I will give them one heart [a new heart] and I will put a new spirit within them; and I will take the stony [unnaturally hardened] heart out of their flesh, and will give them a heart of flesh [sensitive and responsive to the touch of their God]." Ezekiel 11:19 (Amplified Bible)

I can't take the credit for this wonderful pencil drawing of an English fishing village scene, but I wish I could.  All I did was add a little color to it. 

Actually my father, Jeff Brown, drew it back in 1997 when he began drawing for the first time.  He was 80 at the time, and now he's 94!  He's not been drawing lately, but he's still going strong!  Yeah dad!

As I looked at this drawing that my father so beautifully did, I asked the Holy Spirit to show me what He wanted me to see in this picturesque English fishing village with the cobblestone street.  Immediately I knew that He wanted me to share with you how the walls of my heart became hardened like stone because of unforgiveness.  My heart was like the stone buildings and cobblestone street in this picture.

As a child my body would have appeared to be physically present with my family, but so often my heart was removed from their presence.  Over the years a kind of deadening numbness set in, because I had unknowingly closed the door of my heart to my family in order to protect it from further pain.

But God didn't design my heart or your heart to function this way.  Just as our physical hearts need an inflow as well as an outflow of lifeblood in both directions or we will die, so our spiritual hearts need to both receive of His love, and let it flow out of us to others, or we will die!

"Love one another as I have loved you" then becomes a life-giving command of Jesus to us as we realize that God created us to be receivers as well as givers of His love and grace! It's how He made us.  But we can't give of His love and grace to others if we haven't first received His love and grace for ourselves.

As I was pondering these thoughts the Lord reminded me of an experience I had back in 1997 a couple of months after my father drew this picture...  

I was returning home from a church one Sunday evening when I decided to stop by the local El Pollo Loco restaurant and get a spicy black bean burrito.  Back in 1997 this restaurant closed earlier on Sundays, but I didn't realize that when I walked up to the "closed" door to get a burrito.

After I entered the restaurant I noticed that there was no sign of food anywhere, and the waitresses had their backs to me as they busily cleaned up the kitchen.  Suddenly one of them became aware of my presence and jumped as she turned around.   

“How did you get in here?” she asked abruptly. 

“I just walked through the door.” I responded calmly, surprised by such a question.

“You couldn’t have! I locked that door forty-five minutes ago!"

Having said that, she went out the back door of the restaurant and came around to check the front door.  Sure enough it was locked tight.  The manager had to let her in.  As they walked by me they had this incredulous look of awe mixed with confusion on their faces. 

“You must have some kind of supernatural powers!” they both exclaimed.

“No!  I’m a Christian and I serve a supernatural God!” I responded.

Right at that moment, I sensed God's Spirit nudging me to give the young lady who had locked that door... a word from Him.

 

“God is going to open locked doors in your life.  He’s heard the cry of your heart and He wants you to know how much He loves you!”

She was speechless...  She awkwardly thanked me and then went about her business of helping clean up the restaurant, while another waitress insisted on fixing me a burrito, and then I left.

As I walked out the previously locked door, I noticed that it was “power locked.”  There was no way I could have walked through that door “unaided.”  I looked around to see if there were any little rocks that could have somehow prevented it from fully closing.  There were none.  

Immediately I sensed the presence of the Spirit as He began to speak to my heart and tell me that He was going to open locked doors in my life.  Tears filled my eyes and I began to weep as I experienced the tender love in the Father’s heart for me. 

But little did I realize at the time that unforgiveness was going to be one of those locked doors that He would supernaturally open.  As the blazing light from the Cross pierced my stony heart, the walls began to come down, and the cobblestones were broken apart...

I had been broken for blessing.  I had been freed to forgive so that I could become a blessing to others.  If you haven't already been broken by His love and grace, will you let God's Spirit begin to bring down the stony walls within your heart now? 

He wants to break you for blessing, too.  He wants you to receive of His love and grace, and then let it flow out of your new heart to others.♥ 

( It seems that when we have been victims of spiritual abuse... especially as children... we learn to close the door of our hearts at an early age in order to protect ourselves from further abuse...  But God knows how to open our hearts to the rays of His love.♥)

Erasing Dark Shadows

By Hazel Holland

"A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones." Proverbs 17:21-23

This watercolor painting that I painted of a Michigan sunset is a reminder of how I struggled to keep smiling as I faced being confined to a TB hospital for two months back in August of 1967.  It actually amazes me now that I had the determination to paint such bright colors when I was feeling anything but cheerful. 

As I look at the jagged edges of the dark shadows on the mountains I remember how they seemed to parallel my gloomy thoughts and unspoken fears back then.  Now the lines seem too harsh, but back then they clearly reflected the stark reality of daily life.

Although some patients told me that they had been in this hospital forever, I was not going to be one of them.  Others had died in there, but I would live to tell about it.

So in order to try and bring some kind of semblance of balance to the dark shadows of my doubts and fears, I decided to paint the most warm and cheerful fall leaves I could imagine in the foreground of my painting.  Perhaps it would help to dispel my angst with hope.  So each time I would have those dreadful thoughts of being confined to this hospital for eons, I would add a few more orange and yellow leaves to the trees in the foreground.  

As you can see from the density of those orange and yellow leaves, I struggled a bit with anxiety.  But gradually the focus of my thoughts shifted away from myself and my own fears to the needs of the people around me.

I began to wake up each morning with a renewed sense of purpose.  I would make the best of my two month "vacation" because now I had a mission.  I would paint my heart out, and do whatever it took to help erase the dark shadows from other patient's hearts. Instead of spreading around more gloom, I would bring them hope and cheer.  And with God's help I think I did.