It’s All About the Journey

19 Saturday May 2018

Posted by in Life, Reflections

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They say it’s not the destination that counts, but the journey getting there. I agree – to a point. For without a clear destination, a person can get lost. Even with the best planning, however, there are still the unexpected treasures or displeasure to encounter. So, trophy or tragedy, more living goes into the trip than the ‘there’ (except, in my opinion, if it happens to be the Grand Canyon!) Are we there yet?

Yes, it’s the unexpected detours, the rough spots in the road, or a picturesque roadside for a picnic; the outrageous drivers, or fellow companions’ moods; and even the body of the transport that make it interesting; and proves your skill at travel – or living the journey.

Take our little road trip today for example. If you don’t mind the details, you’ll arrive at my intended destination.What was going to be an overnight stay in Hernando, MS to get an early start at the Como, MS auction, changed to “we’ll get an early morning start and save the hotel cost”. The more he looked at some other trucks on-line, the more he leaned toward stopping in Memphis to look at a truck, then on to Como. By the time we went to bed, he had decided we’d just forget the auction and look at two trucks in the Memphis area, Exit 60 and then Collierville. So, this way, we could get Auggie’s day started as usual (pee, poop, eat his breakfast) and settled in for our neighbor Karen to come in after noon to tend to him. Yes, clearly the little pudgy puffy ewok has taken the reins in our life . And what a nice detour he has been!!20180216_154935.jpg

My GPS is a tad bit old but trustworthy for the most part. Gary wants me to enter the destination’s address; he also has ‘farmer directions’ he obtained on the phone. The two rarely match! First stop, an unplanned strawberry farm in McKenzie, TN. So, we’re carrying fresh strawberries, in May, in a car, for all day. OK.

Next stop, a gas station for a large bottle of water to wash the berries. Travel makes one hungry!

Going against the GPS now,  I turned her off so her desperate attempts to make us go her way were thwarted. Exit 60: “We’re here”,  he tells the young man, who answered, “I thought you were calling before you got here. I’ll be ten minutes.” Third stop: road side, waiting 15 minutes for a three-minute drive to ‘the truck’. Or should I say, the piece of junk. Gary says it’s worth about $4,000 to stretch it out and put a something or other on it. Oh.  Off again, to the address he gave me, and GPS on again. Hey, this route is familiar – our son lived in Collierville a short while and the road off of I 40 is very scenic; calming and memorable.

Fourth stop: a truck parked on a lot, (a hot deserted lot) possibly wrecked before. The frame he thinks aloud, is out of line. “No”, I answered uncertainly, “I do not see it”. “What’s your impression?” he asks. Hmmm, an old used truck – what else could I see? Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.

So, it is my job now to decide where we can eat dinner (noon meal). My third call sounded like they understood the gluten question. Home cooking, 0.8 miles away. My phone GPS got us there and surprised us that it is in the Collierville town square. Very pretty, historic and well-preserved! The Silver Caboose proved a fine choice. Homecooking at it’s best with many choices; veggie plates prepared like home, but better! And, Perfect iced tea. 20180519_132630

When the waiter came to take our order, I said, “I’m torn between a salad, or a vegetable plate, because I can’t have wheat gluten”, and as I was adding “I don’t suppose you have a gluten-free bread?” he became very agitated and abrupt. I named my peas, beans and greens selections; Gary ordered, and I started to ask if I may order a piece of grilled chicken, but he was off and running – from me, no doubt. Gary said, “What did you want?” I told him and he motioned to the mannerless waiter, saying “she wants a piece of grilled chicken added to that”. Period. As I added “…if that’s possible…” he said, “be quiet” to me, and “that’s all” to the waiter. I looked a bit stunned because we women do not go for the cut and dry; we want explanation and courtesy, given and taken. Gary said to me, “You’ve got to be insertive to people like that” LOL. I said “you mean assertive?” But at the time, yes, I could have taken my foot and become ‘insertive’. Pardon me, please, you genteel of nature.:) But my man took care of me! The chicken was good.

He’d have liked for me to drive home. Actually he said, “you gonna drive back?” I said no of course, I had things to do, naps to take, uh, I mean notes to take.

Outskirts of Jackson, TN, our GPS says ‘this way’. Gary says ‘my way’. So, GPS is off again; we know the way home. But road construction is never-ending, so a left turn has two lanes unknown to Gary who took up both lanes as we made the turn..  Another car was trying to turn left too. The driver was not grace-full in his reaction. I couldn’t look! The explanation and courtesy thing again; not at all appreciated by my driver, nor the other man. Both should have been thankful there was no accident and driven on. So now we laugh at it and continue on our way.

Scripture repeatedly tells us we have a planner, a spiritual GPS so to speak, to keep us from getting lost. In our spiritual journey we need the same things as we need on a road trip. We need directions, food for growing and sustaining faith; grace and gifts. We make mistakes, and we need re-directing. And then with gratitude we find our way home.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55: 8-9

“Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts!  And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!” Psalm 139:23-24  (ESV)

Happy travels!

 

 

Monday Mistakes – 3rd in Monday Series

13 Sunday May 2018

Posted by in MONDAY MUSINGS, The unexpected

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This is the post that I intended to publish last Monday. Ironically, the title was already “Monday Mistakes” and I forgot I had it ready, so I wrote what I posted last week instead. This is a follow-up on my weed and feed attempt from 2 weeks ago.

The weed and feed deed has been done. I assure you that the blacktop in front of us as well as the driveway will not be sprouting weeds any time soon! However, the middle of the yard should have weeds aplenty! My husband tried in his non-teacher way to tell me how to get started. But these seeder/spreaders are unforgiving; once that high dollar stuff is being fanned across the ground, there’s no bringing it back. Controlling the speed with one foot and one eye on the speedometer; the fan toggle with right hand, steering wheel with left hand, and my other eye trying to turn with my arthritic neck to check on the progress (the open/close handle wanted to jog shut from time to time) was a multi-tasking that I hadn’t done in many years. I’ll spare you the rest of the details, and just hope that I haven’t killed precious things in my effort to take out the unwanted weeds. Does this sound familiar?

Yes, in fact, we can do more damage than good if we do not balance the bitter with the sweet. In my dandelion driven distraction, I forgot to put the cat up; fortunately by the time I actually got started, the dew was all dried so I have hopes that he didn’t pick up the chemicals with his paws. In my haste, I forgot to decrease the distribution width on the first swipe, then I misjudged the radius of my turns and didn’t cut off the fan, so there is much overlapping, and that is not the end of my mistake list. But I had the best of intentions. They say roads are not paved with good intentions.  I was nearly finished with what I knew was not a good job, when I thought about the BIRDS!!! I love them more than pretty grass, so what was I thinking????? Now I will be watching for their welfare for days, with my stomach in a knot until I know that they are OK.

Have you ever put forth a great deal of effort in helping someone, only to decide in the end that you did more harm than good? Yes, so have I. It’s that balance thing again. Carefully selecting enough constructive criticism while being sure they know you care; and providing the encouragement they need is a daunting task. I have recently been in such a situation. After much encouragement from my heart, and sincere prayer for someone, I found that there was still something holding that person back. She just wasn’t able to get over the mountain in her path, but she seemed to be making so much effort! It was breaking my heart. Then when I observed what I’ll describe as slipping back over loose rocks that were sure to trip her as she climbed, I made one last  effort to give a hand up.

Regret seems to love me – it comes to sit with me often.  I just have to remember that my intentions were good when I worked to remove the weeds and fertilize the lawn. My methods were not as well thought out. But we just can’t throw the baby out with the bath water. I learn from mistakes; forgive myself and others; hope for new beginnings; and keep on loving. I believe I can feed, without the weeding next time. Encourage, without offending. Lesson learned.

 

 

Monday Makeovers

06 Sunday May 2018

Posted by in MONDAY MUSINGS

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“…all things are become new.” II Cor. 5:17b

The clothespins were starting to fall out of the ripped side of my old blue bag. It was made of that stuff somewhere between paper and fabric, so there was no mending that! Certain that it would not endure another trip to the clothesline, I began pilfering around for a solution, without having to buy another one;  or more likely, wait through several trips to the town of forgotten errands. Rummaging around in my craft supplies, I spied a piece of heavy canvas, so old that I don’t recall what its origin was. The great nieces had used it for a drop cloth once, but it just never felt right to discard it. So, I’d shuffled it around 100 times, more or less.

  • One old coat hanger and my wire cutters provided a stabilizer for the back side, where I placed:
  •        two grommets from my sewing box, left from a project of three years ago;
  •        removed the actual hanger from the old bag to fit through the grommets;
  •        used an old spool of brown thread for contrast stitching,

and it’s a new clothespin bag!MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

 

Why, you ask, would I care about a clothespin bag? Because for me, and my family, there is nothing that compares with the scent of sheets and pillowcases hung out to dry on the clothesline in the fresh spring air. So that’s the why of that.  As to why I didn’t just go grab another no-trouble replacement at Wal-Mart? There’s a little bit of a DIY’er in me and a lot of cheap, too. So if I can make it out of old parts, and not incur more expense than buying one, why not?

I’m so glad the Lord didn’t just toss me out, but set out to remake, renew, and refurbish me instead. My soul was torn, and my spirit was falling out. The devil was wearing me thin.  But the love of the Father made my soul whole. The Holy Spirit speaks peace to our dismantled spirits through the Word of God. And Jesus Christ sacrificed all the needed materials to make us new.  “This people I have formed for myself; they shall declare my praise” Isaiah 43:21

When God’s people, Israel, had been cast far off, scattered among foreign people and lands, God’s prophet Ezekiel relayed to them that God would restore His people. “Then I will give them one heart, and I will put a new spirit within them, and take the stony heart out of their flesh, and give them a heart of flesh, that they may walk in My statutes and keep My judgements and do them, and they shall be My people, and I will be their God.” Ezekiel 11:19-20.

Today God’s spiritual Israel, His people, “know that if our earthly house, this tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands eternal in the heavens.”  (II Corinthians 5:1, speaking of the resurrection) There is also a renewing in this life that can be a daily blessing. When we as wives, mothers, sisters and friends let each other down, betray our own hearts’ desires and do what we wish we would not; and worse, when we let down the Christ Who gave us the perfect example, we are being the torn ragged old cloths that time and temptation produce. But we have One who loves us much more than we can understand, and He has provided a way to mend and makeover those who go to Him. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” (verse 17)

Thank you Father God for taking my heart’s old tattered cloth and replacing it with the sturdy fabric of faith; for giving me new purpose every day, spurred on by your Spirit and the zeal of fellow Christians. Thank you for a day of rest and worship, preparing me for my Monday makeover. “Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day.” (II Cor. 4:16)

Monday Musings

30 Monday Apr 2018

Posted by in Life, Nature

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PICK YOUR COLOR

They’re All Sweetpexels-photo-65547.jpeg
Monday – so sweet with potential; with all six of the week’s seven days yet spread before us. Like a bag of M&Ms candy with all those colors, you can choose the color you feel like, although they all taste the same. Ultimately, Mondays are like that; each with 24 hours in the day, the paper was delivered, the mail will run, there’ll be meals to eat, and work to do. But for now – on Monday – we get to choose the color we’ll wear. The bag is still full! I can be blue if I choose, or sunny yellow. It’s all in what you pick. In high school I used to eat only the brown ones – that let me savor the taste, but not too much. As time went by, so did my self-control, and I am no longer a respecter of colors.

What will you take on for the new week? Select ravaging red, and take the day by the horns and go! Or bravely wear brown of contentment in the face of a fast paced world. This week’s post will be short, because I intend to take on a new job. I am going to weed and seed the lawn with a new spreader. I hope it produces LOTS of green! This is also the first of what I hope becomes a series of Monday posts. I will continue the M&M theme with the second ‘M’ standing for something to go with Monday, the first ‘M’.  Perhaps “Monday Mommas” is right around the corner:)

Today I am enjoying yellow and blue – sunny weather, blue skies, and four little bluebird eggs in the box still incubating. Last Saturday, I observed the sweetest thing I’ve seen in a while – two bluebirds just kissed! I am not kidding. I saw them fly into a leafless maple, sit side by side, turn to each other and touch beaks; then one flew off and the other watched. Did he go to work? She preened a little, then she, too, flew away and into her box. No, they weren’t feeding each other as I’ve seen them do for their young in the past. I didn’t see nest-building material being exchanged, and the eggs were already in the nest.  No, they just kissed; had to be. It gave me a new understanding of “a peck on the cheek”.

Have a sweet rest of the day!

“Look at the birds of the air for they neither sow nor read nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” Matthew 6:26

Balsamic Vinegar and Rosemary Olive Oil

22 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by in Life, Reflections

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Why make the decisions we make? Purposeful, random, or eenie-meenie-miney-moe’d, something persuades or propels us in one direction or another.  Sometimes I just like the sound of a thing; like EVOO, or balsamic vinegar. I have a bottle of each on the kitchen counter, just because I like the looks and sounds of cooking with them. Over time, I’ve developed a real like for one; a little less for the other. I’ve obviously encountered a decision-making situation today or I wouldn’t be thinking  along that line. As we age we often take on sensitivities and intolerance to various foods and environments. Mine came to be wheat gluten, and over several years I’ve learned where gluten may be hiding and how embarrassing it is to question vendors, who only sell, not make the food. The frustration on their faces when we ask “does that have wheat in it?” is obvious. But it must be asked to make the decision.

A year or two later:  I made a decision on this rainy day to have a small ‘skinny coconut latte’ and I may have found a new best friend to accompany me as I blog. I still like to say “balsamic vinegar”;  and “olive oil” just rolls off the tongue (double entendre unintentional, but I like it). Perhaps I began this post to address decisions. Picking it back up today however, I really do not recall that particular impending decision. But what I do see in it is this: sensitivity and intolerance! As I get older, I find I am less sensitive, but more intolerant. While that may sound conflicting, allow me to explain.  For food and environment, ‘sensitive’ and ‘intolerant’ are pretty much the same. With attitudes, each of those words can go its own way independent of the other one. In the years when I was overly sensitive, everything seemed personal. Comments, actions, attitudes, were perceived as directly pertaining to or because of me. Me. Really? Someone forgot to tell me that the world was not my mother and I would not be accountable to them all. What makes us think we – anyone – is important enough to cause others to have those ‘bird-flipping’ days? What could I have done to deepen another’s frown, or increase the grit in their growl? I truly was relieved to discover years ago that the world’s happiness does not hinge on me. In case you don’t recognize it, that would be called co-dependancy. I learned it in childhood and that’s another story for another day. Isn’t it liberating to know that people can snap at you, frown and scowl, and you can just smile back knowing it isn’t your fault? Now, of course if I have offended, and yes sometimes I do, then it is just as liberating to admit it and say “please forgive”.  But in the world of vinegar-dripping attitudes, just remember that even if it wasn’t our doing, we can still have a sweet effect on the vinegar, and not become acidic ourselves. Drop into their lives a little sugar, salt and pepper, chopped tomatoes, hot peppers and onions and that vinegar comes to life! We called that goulash where I came from.  “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.” (Proverbs 25:11)  Being less sensitive decreases worry and less worry opens the path to positive reactions.

Tolerance, however,  is another thing for me. When I was more sensitive, I was more tolerant in that I was prone to think maybe everybody is right, and I am not. Sensitivity for me, left me less clear about where I stood on a subject; therefore, I was more tolerant of the world’s junk.  I was afraid to make a stand even with a strong platform, so that I wouldn’t stir up some controversy that might be taken personally. This is reminding me of the “double minded man” of James 1, verses 8, 23, and 24 who is indecisive, doubting, and can’t even remember his own image!! I am happier being less tolerant of the things I know my Savior taught against, even though I am still  no fan of controversy! I will, in fact,  go to great lengths to avoid it. That’s just one reason I like to write; it gives me time to carefully phrase, and rephrase things to avoid being abrasive. Though I would never do that intentionally, it just seems that when the tongue gets going, it is usually way ahead of the reins. So, I write.

So then, being intolerant enables me to take a firm stand when I know a thing to be repulsive because now I can clearly separate the things I cannot tolerate, from the people who do them. The people are loved, the actions are not.  I learned recently that one reason the shepherd anoints the sheep’s head with oil is to cause an opponent’s head to slide off when he is butting heads in a challenge. Less damage is done. Another reason is to repel the flies that pester and fester. The Lord has anointed my head with oil, and it is so sweet. I can tolerate the pounding I may invite by being intolerant of what I want no part of.  And I can let insults slide right off!

Rosemary added to olive oil gives it a touch of sweetness, adding to the oil’s many other benefits. A wonderful emollient, it also is loaded with vitamins and antioxidants; and is flavorful alone or with added herbs. I choose basil and olive oil to change our age-old family recipe for goulash. I’m sure this would not be tolerated by my grandmothers, but I think my Mama would love it. She was much more tolerant of my decisions.

Then there is the vinegar I just can’t seem to totally avoid. You know, no matter what kind of vinegar I open, it still smells sharp and tastes acidic. As the Lord anoints my head with the oil of gladness, may the Holy Spirit continue to buffer me that I will not carry acrid sensitivity, but rather joyful certainty. If I have aligned myself with the good Shepherd, I can enjoy the oil, and avoid the vinegar. Maybe that is where this post was going from the start. We can make the decision to spew acrid vinegary attitudes all about, or we can pour the oil to smooth and enhance life for ourselves and others.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over.” Psalm 23:5

COOKIES AND CRAYONS; It’s a Kid’s Life

15 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by in Life, Uncategorized

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Photo on 4-15-18 at 4.41 PM

I was a kid again last Sunday afternoon. Having received a bit of morning news that I was helpless to change, I turned to activity that might be the response from a child. No, I didn’t have a tantrum; in fact, it wasn’t even an anger producing situation at all. It was just one of those times when a child might shrug with helplessness, become saddened, and move on to activities that help him process life’s circumstances and deal, or more accurately, not deal with it.

After worship and a meal, I took myself to Wal-Mart. I needed cookies! Imagine my delight when I found gluten-free Animal Crackers! Now, I do admit a great chocolate chip cookie is hard to beat, but for a kid – my kids – animal crackers were the best! I couldn’t resist that little red circus car of crispy animal shapes to take home to my little ones in the 1980’s. Neither was I about to turn down this Glutino version today, since I have become gluten intolerant over the years.

Next, my Wal-Mart wonderings took me past the colorful Crayola aisle.  Whereas this is a temptation that I normally resist, that day my grownup reasoning was drowned out by recollections of opening a box of sharp, smooth waxy crayons. So I took a box of 24 and casually placed them in my cart, just for me.

After selecting the boring grownup stuff – light bulbs, detergent and cat liter – I found a cake mix and cherry pie filling  to try a new “sugar-free” treat for my hubby friend. (We kids can be so naive.) Eager to try out my new treats,  I had visions of hopping on the back of my cart and coasting up to the checkout counter. But I knew I would just pop a wheelie and end up on my back, in the floor, with a buggy of crayons and cookies on top of me! Shudder.

Once I was home, I shared the Animal Crackers with my Yorkie who was ever so glad I wasn’t thinking like a grownup. I also colored a whole page in a Barbie coloring book that I once bought for our great nieces. As I colored, I was thinking, no wonder kids are such inventors of ideas! My brain storming was in overdrive as I made Barbie a brunette and colored her world.

  • Wal-Mart – that magical place a child learns to ask for as soon as he or she can talk. It’s where they can walk out with something interesting that they didn’t walk in with. They smile and speak with no prejudice.
  • Animal Crackers – simply flavored, easy to hold, crunchy, and a trip to the zoo – all in one little  package! For about 79 cents (in our day) you could feed a child’s imagination. What fun would it be to bite the head off a lion if it didn’t crunch?! Or if a bear didn’t ‘snap’ in half?
  • Crayons – colorful; new sharp points that make it so easy to stay within the lines; and that smell!

The aroma of new Crayola crayons takes me back to childhood where my cousin Jan and I would lie in the floor of their walk-in closet and color our evenings away! The intensity of staying in the lines always made her stick out her tongue and that made me smile. Being the boss of how each picture developed gave us purpose, and a sense of accomplishment. It just felt good to control something in a world so out of our control; same as today.

14 But when Jesus saw it, He was greatly displeased and said to them, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God.
15Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it.”
16 And He took them up in His arms, put His hands on them, and blessed them.

Mark 10:14-16 NKJV

 

Driven and Defended

07 Saturday Apr 2018

Posted by in Faith, Nature

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Once again I am driven by the cold wind to my laptop keyboard.  There’s hardly a discomfort that can’t be improved upon by a cup of coffee and a candle. My picks for today are Green Mountain Signature Blend and a Beehive Pot of Sugared Citron by Aspen Bay Candles. For December, January, February, and even the first part of March, I, like most of you, can gaze upon the glossy white of winter and find beauty and blessing in the frozen stillness of a winter snow. But this is April 7! The free-falling stuff  we awoke to this morning was just not what I wanted to see.

Worse than the white spread over tree blossoms, was the 28 to 32 degree temps of early morning. My first 7 AM thought was of the wheat crops, and for many farmers this late freeze will not be good news. My next thought was of intense gratitude for our daughter’s safe arrival to her home shortly before 2AM, after her Dallas flight had a three-hour delay. Last night I’d closed the front door on a driving north wind with a prayer that God would deliver her safely home, and He did. He no doubt heard my heart thinking, “I won’t even pray for the wheat crop because defending my girl is so much more important”.  So, as much as I wanted to complain this morning about the weather, it was overridden by the blessings of a warm home, happy hearts, and good health.

As I took Auggie out for a walk near noon, that north wind was still at work. Try as it did to remove my cloak of gratitude, I just pulled it more snuggly around me, as I also did with my fleese-lined coat. That reminded me of the childhood fable of the sun and the wind competing to see who would cause the traveler to remove his coat. Of course, the sun won. Like the warmth of the sun, which gave the traveler freedom to remove his heavy overcoat, the sword of the Spirit defends us against the drive of evil, that we may stand; (Ephesians 6:13, 17) and provides the freedom to remove an overcoat of fear, guilt and regret. Such a laden coat may hide our joyful cloak of gratitude.

In our north wind, Auggie and I walk briskly in the exposures between the large evergreens of our fencerow. Then we slow down and enjoy the protection from the wind as we reach the next tree. In a similar way, we enjoy amazing grace and protection in the wind break of our Lord. The elements of life can be pretty cold and fierce, but He beckons us to move in close to Him while we brace for the next wave of ‘whatever’. “How precious is Your lovingkindness, Oh God! Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings.” (Psalm 36:7)

A bit of pulled pork and a jalapeño corn muffin later, I am enjoying the sun through my window. Mercifully, it has cut its way through the cold and cloudy sky. Our Redbud tree is glowing and the Yoshino Cherry blossoms seem happy enough dancing in the wind. Our days may be driven by the forces of nature, but our spirits are defended by a loving God whose Holy Spirit directs, and whose arms protect.

“For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.” (Song of Solomon 2: 11-12)

 

Friendships: Puppies and Porcupines

28 Wednesday Mar 2018

Posted by in Reflections

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Hello! Long time, no see. I’ve been a neglectful blogger lately. My writing time was used to expand one of my articles published previously by Christian Woman Magazine, and I used that to present a talk in a Ladies Retreat in West Virginia. My sister and daughter accompanied me there last weekend. We had a wonderful time of fellowship and fun; so many laughs, hugs and encouragement that I feel recharged and refreshed! I’m not sure we realize, as women in a busy world, that our souls need refilling and refueling on a regular basis. We certainly pour out of them on a regular basis, do we not? I like the slogan on the Alum Creek Ladies Retreat Facebook page, which is “You can’t pour from an empty cup”. That has me thinking about friendship.

There are of course several levels of friendship. There’s the ‘barely know ya’ Facebook ‘friending’ and the ‘so glad to reconnect’ social media friending; there are long-standing work/school/neighborhood relationships that became friendships probably due to simply being there and the frequency of spending time together. Then, there are those unique people from our past who we can see ever so seldom and always feel like we are just picking back up a conversation from only yesterday. You know the kind , who have their ‘only them’ places in your heart. Perhaps it’s the first childhood friend you made (mine is Sandy Perfilio Jordan); or perhaps your high school bestie (enter Janie Hughes Guizlo); and of course the one you lived with as you left home the first time for that adventure called college (Linda Stubblefield Pugh). A different kind of friendship that can only be cultivated through time is that of husband and wife as newly wed days turn into always. He always has my back.

The weekend held for me a buffet of friendships. From the acquaintances that immediately felt like good friends, to the life long cherished friendship that is much more like family. This is the Arthur family of a little place called Bancroft, West Virginia. The mom, Helen, was my baby sitter before my memories begin and the mutual love between her family and mine continues in spite of my mom’s passing and the 450 miles between us. Helen’s daughter Kimberly Holder is my sister in the spirit. We think a lot alike although she is much more thoughtful and humble than I am. I had the privilege of seeing her sister and brother-in-law (Vicki and Whitney Hess) give their live band performance at a little Italian restaurant.  Though I never thought Vicki and I to be anything alike with all her talents, I discovered we have one important thing in common: she was more nervous singing in front of her three friends from Kentucky than all the times she has performed before senators, governors, and such. I too, had just had a case of nervous nellies as I spoke before a group of about 170 gals just like myself – living our seasons, doing our best to make each day count. My sister, my daughter and I were treated like royalty. That’s hospitable friendship.

Speaking of sis and daughter, this is another kind of friendship. Kathy, my sister and Stephanie, my daughter are the most supportive loving people you could ever ask for; more than I ever deserve! These close family members are people you can argue with and still come out friends. We must have those with whom we can share tears and confidences, knowing that it goes no further than them. That’s called trust.

My Mama told me once that to have a friend, you have to be a friend. I believe she got that from Proverbs in the bible, where it says “if a man is to have friends, he must show himself friendly”, and it was her answer to a question I asked.  I sat down at her kitchen table one morning in the months before her passing and said, “Mama, I don’t know what I’ll do without you. You are my best friend; and I don’t make friends the way you do.” That’s when she said how to be a friend. Hers was a sacrificial, wise and true love friendship.

I enjoy a large church congregation full of friends, many of whom I have no doubt would do anything they could if I needed help. Even there, there are always those two or three with whom you share a special bond. One shares a love for writing and has the most beautiful spirit. Another was a labor patient whose baby I was blessed to catch as he entered the world, making two friends of one! A couple of others whose newborns came at the end of an overtime shift where much bonding takes place are dear to my heart. Camaraderie at its best!

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the very special friendship we have in our pets. Pets, especially puppies, bring out a gentleness in us that we start losing at about five years old. I think a three or four-year old would pet a porcupine and sweet talk it if given the chance. I want to be that kind of friend – the one who can love another in spite of the prickly days, the days when you need to be told you are special and not be reminded that it’s due to the quills. Like my puppy, who is always glad to see me come back home, I want to have open arms and heart for those in distress, or with regrets. I think that’s a Jesus kind of love and friendship.

I was blessed today with a visit from my old college roommate. The two of us shared memories and todays’ struggles and brunch. Hers is a non-judgmental kind of friendship, where we can openly discuss family matters and controversial issues with that trust I mentioned earlier. Along with the past weekend, today refilled my cup; I’m refreshed, renewed and refilled. That’s friendship.

Another Good Day (In Spite of Itself)

18 Sunday Feb 2018

Posted by in Life

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I have 20 minutes until it isn’t Saturday any more. For the entire day I kept wanting to write, tapping out little anecdotes in my head about how this day began with a damp outlook, but how we keep ourselves afloat by choosing to be happy rather than letting the grit and grime get us down. However, I just kept moving through the day, making mental notes that have already escaped me, and alas, I am too tired to remember it all. Was it the fact that it has been raining since the beginning of time? Oh, yes, that is how it started; the day, that is. Wet. And for all my patience and umbrella balancing, my little Yorkie couldn’t ‘go’ and my newspaper weighed in at sopping wet despite that blue plastic very permeable sleeve that it wears.  But this I took in stride and found myself not complaining; just thankful for the cutest little dog ever! He sat patiently awaiting his treat while I placed dripping umbrella, doggy jacket, and my shoes on the water proof sunroom floor. There’s the other thing I was thinking – how great it is to have a place to track mud and rain into and not worry about it! Comfort to the max. After spreading the important pages of the paper, that being the crossword puzzle, the front page and the obituaries, over chairs to dry, we headed for the coffee pot and breakfast plans. God bless the newspaper carrier; all I have to do is walk out and pick it up. They, on the other hand, have to get all those papers distributed day after day, no matter the weather. I’ll bet the rain gets through her open car window as she tosses the daily news onto the driveway. What’s more, our carrier is more faithful than the US mail! No kidding; during this winter’s snow, we missed only one day of the paper, but several days of mail were missed.

Well, my 20 minutes are up, and it’s Sunday morning already, but I’m on a roll. Just as I was starting to feel dry, cozy and full I called our daughter who lives two or three hours away, depending on who is driving. Had she gone to the mailbox? No, but she said she would, and when I called her back to see if she got the valentine I sent to her from her fur baby, her voice was changed. She said, “Mama, I’m kind of scared….” Do you know what that does to a mother’s heart when her normally very brave daughter has gone out to the mailbox and comes back inside saying she is scared? The rest of my coffee got cold, and my stomach was churning, but I didn’t let on to her. It appears that someone has obtained her personal information and she has received the first evidence of it. Let’s see, what can I be optimistic about here? The first thing I did was just nothing; I listened, and can’t recall what I did finally say because my mind was racing, and I didn’t want to make her feel worse. As if. So I am extremely grateful for whatever that protective coating is that causes us to sit stunned and silent rather than comprehending everything at once. That has to be a blessing that God built in for our own protection. We ended our phone conversation so that she could get right on the notifications that needed to be made, like bank account, credit reports, and so forth. I went directly to my husband and said “we need to pray – now” and we did. And that was where I became so thankful that I knew I would have to write before the day was over. Gratitude swelled in my heart that we don’t have to suffer insults alone. We do not have to work out the solutions alone. We have a hope for help today as well as for eternity. The next life does not have all dibs on seeing the results of a strong faith. Without the knowledge that I have a God who is able to do exceedingly greater than I can even imagine or ask, I would be left with our simple human devices. Unstable, uncertain, hit or miss people power is not what I want working for my girl! After praying, I immediately called my sister, bypassing her preferred method of texting to communicate. I wasted no time telling her to put her life on hold as she was headed out the door for a wedding shower we were both attending mid morning. “I need to talk to my sister, and fall just a little bit apart”, I said and felt the tears very near. I explained what was happening and that I had kept emotions in check for my daughter, but now I needed to let it flow. Would you believe her niece on her husband’s side of the family had her identity stolen! It was a nightmare for her and she became very well acquainted with what to do and how to proceed. I am so very very sorry for her that it happened, but I am also very thankful there was someone we knew with the voice of experience for my daughter to be advised. I am very thankful too, that my daughter felt better after speaking to “Mary” (fake name). How very thankful I am that I have a husband who can share with me the concern of our children, and to whom I can go to pray with me. What a blessing!  Counting my blessings would be quite incomplete without telling you how much it means to have a sister to call.  I’ve alway been thankful for her, and as much as we fought as children, it is a wonder she will even speak to me. But I think all that fighting creates a bond like no other. Her concern was genuine, and she immediately sent Mary’s phone number to my daughter, and told me it would be difficult, but we’d be okay.

As I arrived at the shower, where my sister had already told of the crime against my daughter, I found open arms and warm hugs for my hurting heart; and enough concern for my daughter’s welfare to reach the whole 150 miles away to her! I called her later and said “you should feel very rich right now, with all the love and good wishes you received today”! Thank you God for the sweet hearts of good friends! Thank you for Macy’s employee who answered my daughter’s call this morning and was so kind and helpful. I should explain that it was a Macy’s statement in the mail this morning, and she doesn’t have a Macy’s account. So, it was explained to her that someone opened an account, many many miles away, using all the personal information that belongs to my daughter, and did so to get the discount on the clothes they bought. The DISCOUNT? When you know you aren’t even going to be paying for them? OK…..Well, I guess that gave them a legitimate reason to open a new account, I say with sarcasm. Whoever that was, will never know that I sat down this morning and prayed for them to have a change of heart and destroy the information they are using, and well, if you’re thinking I asked for them to be blessed, you are wrong. I am after all, a mother. Don’t mess with my cubs. But I did refrain from wishing them any harm. Truly. I am thankful that God has directed us to wish no harm to others, because I don’t think it would have made my day to unleash those kind of negative thoughts. I am going to stay optimistic, and positive, and thankful. A dry roof over our heads; good friends and family; prayer and a Lord Who loves my daughter even more than I do! It was indeed a good day.

This is indeed the day that the Lord has made and I will be glad in it. Because I can.

The In and Out of Season

20 Saturday Jan 2018

Posted by in Nature, The unexpected

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It is coffee-o’clock in the afternoon, and I am pondering the things that were on my mind as I walked Auggie just after noon today. With temperatures between 40 and 50, many folks around here are getting their wish for a thaw. As the saying goes, there’s a blessing and a curse in this. The sound of our walk has changed from the quiet whump whump of boots on snow, to the slosh slush of melting ice and snow underfoot. It is actually more difficult to keep my footing in this than it was on solid ice and fluffy snow.

What was beautiful white snow is now poxed with surfacing mud, weed and grass sprigs, and the gazillion tracks and seed shells strewn by grateful birds. The gleam of sunshine over a white field is clouded over today, and today’s 40 felt colder than 10 degrees did on a sunny day.  After a week of putting Auggie and myself into and out of  sweaters, coat, hood, scarf, boots, gloves, and even at times extra layers, plus a leash, well – I’m easing up on the job and thinking I wouldn’t make a good Alaskan!

No, the sounds and sights are not as pleasing to me, but 6 days without mail and the cancelled plans weren’t great either. Oh, I am not complaining. We certainly don’t experience this scenario much around here. I rather enjoyed the quiet time. I felt a purpose in life – keeping the birds fed, checking on my elderly family members, using groceries judiciously and preparing meals that would keep my man happy (smile – I know how old-fashioned that sounds) and keeping the household prepared just incase we lost electricity along the way.

But this isn’t the crux of my thoughts this morning. It was change. I think a lot about that lately. We went overnight from a 60 degree rain to temps in the teens with a layer of ice and several inches of snow.  Likewise, we went from teens back to 50 degrees in less than 24 hours today. My sister says my reaction time emotionally goes from zero to 90 in a moment. We go from stocked shelves and full refrigerator to “whats for dinner?’ in a few days of home cooking. I went from a peaceful moment of “I think I’ll get something out of the freezer” to a mad race for towels, containers, and yells for help. The freezer was off and our food had thawed. I cooked a great deal, gave some away, threw away  even more, and I now have a clean freezer ready to be refilled. I may have cried a tear or two, recalling the work I put into those garden veggies. It’s a small thing really, and I’m over it. But all those huge things that people endure as their seasons change are not coped with so easily. My heart bleeds for them. As I prepare to speak in March at a Ladies Retreat I will be giving a greater portion of thought to this thing we call change. Seasons.  Our seasons within seasons. The beauty and the beast of seasons as they come and go. And especially the Letting Go as we prepare for another!

Enjoy your season, whatever it is. They go by too quickly to miss a moment of each one. In a flash I will be watching for little garden seeds to sprout, bringing more of those vegetables we love. “Preach the word! Be ready in season and out of season. Convince, rebuke, exhort, with all long-suffering and teaching.” (II Timothy 4:2 NKJV)

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