It was not me who waited too long to go to the bathroom, so in desperation, walking swiftly while pulling down my pants and underwear through the house so as to save time in the bathroom. I would never do that as the patio door, open to the world is in that pathway. I am modest.
It was not me who looked outside this morning and found three inches of snow on the ground. I was not hoping for the look of spring, a green bud or daffodils peeking out of the ground. I know my seasons. March in Wyoming is Not winter.
It was not me who waited till the last minute to mail my mother in laws birthday gift. I am always prompt and on time. So, it was not me either who has not yet ordered her fathers birthday present (for his important 80th birthday) that will take 3-4 weeks to get to him and his birthday is in a week and a half.
It was not me who looked at my house this morning and started planning to get it cleaned up because the housekeeper is coming tomorrow. I am not prideful.
It was certainly not me who sat in the computer chair, needing (again) to be dashing for the potty, but wanting to finish my 'not me' for this week.
I don't live such a boring life that I have to sit here and think a LONG time about what to write. Bye for now
Monday, March 9, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Emmanuel
My eighth grandchild....my third grand son, Emmanuel. Emmanuel was born with Sickle Cell Anemia, type SS. He is six months old. He is a chortling, funny, beautiful, handsome, mischievous, teasing, bundle of boy. He has just learned to sit by himself and to crawl. It's a funny crawl, but it is mobility and he is on the go.
Emmanuel was born to my single daughter, Sarah. Sarah works two jobs and her daddy and I take care of Emmanuel while she is at work. It takes both of us alot of the time.
For Emmanuels first five months of life, he was pretty much like any other normal baby. During his sixth month he has been to the hospital three times. One of those times was very scary. The staff thought at one point that he wasn't going to live. Inside, I was falling apart, while my face stayed serious but serene. I watched Emmanuel lay in the hospital baby crib, moaning while he slept. He didn't move. He was very pale. He had already been poked and prodded, an IV started and wrapped around his little arm.
Our little town is very blessed to have a hospital. It is not a big hospital with specialists that know how to take care of Sickle Cell kids. The staff is learning as they go. Emmanuel is one of two people in the state of Wyoming with this disease. The nearest specialist is in Denver, CO.
They talked of care flighting him to Denver and we tried to prepare our hearts for whatever was going to happen.
There was a period of time during that hospital stay when I was in the room by myself with Emmanuel. I looked at him laying there, so very sick and helpless and little and my heart took over and I wept. I closed my eyes and prayed for strength. I had long ago put Emmanuel in my Heavenly Fathers arms for His care. But still, I am flesh and blood and this is my baby grand son. Tears dripped off my face. I wasn't sobbing. I was releasing Emmanuel yet again to our Father.
A nurse came into the room and asked me if I was OK. I told her that I was OK....only because God was with me. With Him I can stand because He can bind up my weak knees.
Eventually Emmanuel got better and we were allowed to take him home. He wasn't 'well' but he was very slowly getting better. There were a few more complications....more narcotic pain relievers....alot more rocking and singing and praying over him, more tears and more tears.
We have many that we know of praying for Emmanuel and for those of us who take care of him. I find out nearly every day of someone else who emails and says they have been praying for us and want to know how Emmanuel is.
Today, as I sat a moment to rest, I thought of my other eight grandchildren. I particularly thought of my youngest grandson, Samuel who was born about six weeks after Emmanuel. I have never held him or sang to him. I'm not even sure if I bought him something when he was born. I don't know him like I know Emmanuel. I miss that.
It's not 'fair'. Not to Samuel and not to me. But it is what it is. Samuel, along with his brother and sisters and parents are planning to come visit in July. I am looking forward to that so very much! I imagine them all being here and the kids all running around and squeeling in our living room. Emmanuel will love them being here. I plan to get to know my newest grandson. I plan to take HIM shopping and buy HIM an outfit and a toy. I want him to know he is very special to me.
I want Emmanuel to know that he has wonderful cousins and aunts and uncles who love him and pray for him.
The journey of life is a challenging one. I know I am just a pilgrim here.....a stranger in a strange land and I look forward to a better place, where there is no more sickness, no more tears, no more death, no more thousands of miles seperating us from our loved ones. Thank you God for my NINE grandchildren. Every single one of them.
Emmanuel was born to my single daughter, Sarah. Sarah works two jobs and her daddy and I take care of Emmanuel while she is at work. It takes both of us alot of the time.
For Emmanuels first five months of life, he was pretty much like any other normal baby. During his sixth month he has been to the hospital three times. One of those times was very scary. The staff thought at one point that he wasn't going to live. Inside, I was falling apart, while my face stayed serious but serene. I watched Emmanuel lay in the hospital baby crib, moaning while he slept. He didn't move. He was very pale. He had already been poked and prodded, an IV started and wrapped around his little arm.
Our little town is very blessed to have a hospital. It is not a big hospital with specialists that know how to take care of Sickle Cell kids. The staff is learning as they go. Emmanuel is one of two people in the state of Wyoming with this disease. The nearest specialist is in Denver, CO.
They talked of care flighting him to Denver and we tried to prepare our hearts for whatever was going to happen.
There was a period of time during that hospital stay when I was in the room by myself with Emmanuel. I looked at him laying there, so very sick and helpless and little and my heart took over and I wept. I closed my eyes and prayed for strength. I had long ago put Emmanuel in my Heavenly Fathers arms for His care. But still, I am flesh and blood and this is my baby grand son. Tears dripped off my face. I wasn't sobbing. I was releasing Emmanuel yet again to our Father.
A nurse came into the room and asked me if I was OK. I told her that I was OK....only because God was with me. With Him I can stand because He can bind up my weak knees.
Eventually Emmanuel got better and we were allowed to take him home. He wasn't 'well' but he was very slowly getting better. There were a few more complications....more narcotic pain relievers....alot more rocking and singing and praying over him, more tears and more tears.
We have many that we know of praying for Emmanuel and for those of us who take care of him. I find out nearly every day of someone else who emails and says they have been praying for us and want to know how Emmanuel is.
Today, as I sat a moment to rest, I thought of my other eight grandchildren. I particularly thought of my youngest grandson, Samuel who was born about six weeks after Emmanuel. I have never held him or sang to him. I'm not even sure if I bought him something when he was born. I don't know him like I know Emmanuel. I miss that.
It's not 'fair'. Not to Samuel and not to me. But it is what it is. Samuel, along with his brother and sisters and parents are planning to come visit in July. I am looking forward to that so very much! I imagine them all being here and the kids all running around and squeeling in our living room. Emmanuel will love them being here. I plan to get to know my newest grandson. I plan to take HIM shopping and buy HIM an outfit and a toy. I want him to know he is very special to me.
I want Emmanuel to know that he has wonderful cousins and aunts and uncles who love him and pray for him.
The journey of life is a challenging one. I know I am just a pilgrim here.....a stranger in a strange land and I look forward to a better place, where there is no more sickness, no more tears, no more death, no more thousands of miles seperating us from our loved ones. Thank you God for my NINE grandchildren. Every single one of them.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Not ME Tuesday
It was NOT ME who took our dog on an outing in the van just to have the dog spot two other dogs and go wild , getting scratched to pieces. NOT ME.
It was NOT ME who went to a resale shop and bought a Ziploc bag of used baby bottles only to get home and find that they were mismatched nipples and bottles and out of the entire bag only three could be put to use.
It was (and still is) NOT ME who can't figure out why the expensive Dr. Brown baby bottles leak when I try to feed my grandson.
It was NOT ME who insisted that I would only use Dr. Browns baby bottles because they were THE BEST on the market. Uh huh, that was not me.
It was NOT ME who personally sucked on several different kinds of baby nipples to see which I would prefer, so I would know which my grandson would also prefer ;)
It was NOT ME who, while putting nose spray in my nose, slipped and squirted it in my eye instead.
It was NOT ME who tried with one eye to look up that nose spray on the internet to see if it would make me go blind.
It was NOT ME who decided before going to church wednesday night that I would use the video time to catch some ZZZ's, but found the video so interesting, I couldn't doze off.
It was NOT ME that was trying to learn to use the new printer and accidentally printed twenty pages of the same picture.
It was NOT ME who, after retrieving a glass of water in the dark, by my bedside, drank the wrong lip of the cup and ended up dousing myself with the entire glass of water. I would never be so dumb.
That's all for this week.
It was NOT ME who went to a resale shop and bought a Ziploc bag of used baby bottles only to get home and find that they were mismatched nipples and bottles and out of the entire bag only three could be put to use.
It was (and still is) NOT ME who can't figure out why the expensive Dr. Brown baby bottles leak when I try to feed my grandson.
It was NOT ME who insisted that I would only use Dr. Browns baby bottles because they were THE BEST on the market. Uh huh, that was not me.
It was NOT ME who personally sucked on several different kinds of baby nipples to see which I would prefer, so I would know which my grandson would also prefer ;)
It was NOT ME who, while putting nose spray in my nose, slipped and squirted it in my eye instead.
It was NOT ME who tried with one eye to look up that nose spray on the internet to see if it would make me go blind.
It was NOT ME who decided before going to church wednesday night that I would use the video time to catch some ZZZ's, but found the video so interesting, I couldn't doze off.
It was NOT ME that was trying to learn to use the new printer and accidentally printed twenty pages of the same picture.
It was NOT ME who, after retrieving a glass of water in the dark, by my bedside, drank the wrong lip of the cup and ended up dousing myself with the entire glass of water. I would never be so dumb.
That's all for this week.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
NOT ME Tuesday
It was not me that was seen at a down town restaurant ALONE, having breakfast and enjoying a new book while my husband became an Iron Chef for the day, cooking chili over at the city Middle School.
It was still not me who went from breakfast to get dessert and a diet coke and went to the park and read three hours enjoying sunshine and peace and quiet.
It is not me who should still be eating healthy and on limited calories. Nope, not me.
It was not me who couldn't sleep at all while staying at the hospital with my grandson because I didn't have my recliner that was at home.
It wasn't me who made the head nurse angry because I mentioned that she was late again with my grandsons pain medications.
It is not me who is thinking of selling my dog because he has become a traitor and continues to pester my neighbor--wanting her to be his master instead of me.
It was not me who sat in a courtroom Monday listening to a constant stream of young (some as young as 13 years old) people stand trial before a judge and feel despondancy blanket my heart.
It was not me who felt like giving up on this next generation who seem so insolent all of the time.
It was not me that wanted to slap their faces off as they continued to disrespect their parents and the judge.
It was not me who was so upset after being in the courtroom listening that I couldn't eat lunch.
It was not me who cried myself to sleep that night.
It was NOT ME who prayed today for my husband to win the Iron Chef chili cook off at the middle school. Why I would NEVER, NEVER pray for him to win over two other members of our church. Not me.
It was still not me who went from breakfast to get dessert and a diet coke and went to the park and read three hours enjoying sunshine and peace and quiet.
It is not me who should still be eating healthy and on limited calories. Nope, not me.
It was not me who couldn't sleep at all while staying at the hospital with my grandson because I didn't have my recliner that was at home.
It wasn't me who made the head nurse angry because I mentioned that she was late again with my grandsons pain medications.
It is not me who is thinking of selling my dog because he has become a traitor and continues to pester my neighbor--wanting her to be his master instead of me.
It was not me who sat in a courtroom Monday listening to a constant stream of young (some as young as 13 years old) people stand trial before a judge and feel despondancy blanket my heart.
It was not me who felt like giving up on this next generation who seem so insolent all of the time.
It was not me that wanted to slap their faces off as they continued to disrespect their parents and the judge.
It was not me who was so upset after being in the courtroom listening that I couldn't eat lunch.
It was not me who cried myself to sleep that night.
It was NOT ME who prayed today for my husband to win the Iron Chef chili cook off at the middle school. Why I would NEVER, NEVER pray for him to win over two other members of our church. Not me.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
He Suffered But Opened NOT His Mouth
It's Sunday. The first day of the week. A blessed day of the Lord....and I am weary, I am tired. When I woke this morning, my first thought was, "what day is it?". When I realized it was Sunday, my spirit groaned. Being a ministers wife, Sunday is very much a 'work' day. I have to polish myself up...you know, take a shower, do my hair, put on make up, wear 'look good' clothes and on and on. Then, I MUST smile and smile and smile, setting a good example for the congregation.
These things should not be a burden, but many times they FEEL like burdens that make me weary. I am uncomfortable in the church pews. They make my back hurt worse. So, I take a pain pill before heading out for church.
All of this, I laid at the foot of the cross this morning. How God must sigh when he hears me or sees me feeling as I do. Jesus gave his life on the cross......and I'm griping because I have to sit in a church pew. That's some comparison!
How many times will I hear this morning after I say, "hello, how are you?" to my fellow believers, "I'm tired". Yeah, I feel the same way. Yes, I reckon that Jesus was pretty tired the day he went to Calvary. He had been up all night being whipped and degraded and then he was nailed to a cross. I doubt that Jesus thought, "I'm just too tired to be on the cross today". I'm glad he did what he did for me.
Has anyone else noticed that we have a generation of tired teenagers and twenty year olds? Go ahead. I dare you to ask around today and see how many of them respond with 'I'm tired" when you ask how they are.
When I was young I never thought I was tired. I could stay up most of the night and get up at six in the morning and still feel good. When I was actually, really tired, I would never have admitted it......that would have been weak.
So, I have pondered lately, why is this the most popular statement of the young in 2009? The only thing I can come up with is that they do not want any responsibility. Why else would you tell everyone you knew that you were tired? Do todays youth even know what it is like to feel really tired????? I doubt it. I doubt that I do either.
Oh Lord, God, change my heart. Make my heart pure. Let me be more like you, who suffered and did not open your mouth.
These things should not be a burden, but many times they FEEL like burdens that make me weary. I am uncomfortable in the church pews. They make my back hurt worse. So, I take a pain pill before heading out for church.
All of this, I laid at the foot of the cross this morning. How God must sigh when he hears me or sees me feeling as I do. Jesus gave his life on the cross......and I'm griping because I have to sit in a church pew. That's some comparison!
How many times will I hear this morning after I say, "hello, how are you?" to my fellow believers, "I'm tired". Yeah, I feel the same way. Yes, I reckon that Jesus was pretty tired the day he went to Calvary. He had been up all night being whipped and degraded and then he was nailed to a cross. I doubt that Jesus thought, "I'm just too tired to be on the cross today". I'm glad he did what he did for me.
Has anyone else noticed that we have a generation of tired teenagers and twenty year olds? Go ahead. I dare you to ask around today and see how many of them respond with 'I'm tired" when you ask how they are.
When I was young I never thought I was tired. I could stay up most of the night and get up at six in the morning and still feel good. When I was actually, really tired, I would never have admitted it......that would have been weak.
So, I have pondered lately, why is this the most popular statement of the young in 2009? The only thing I can come up with is that they do not want any responsibility. Why else would you tell everyone you knew that you were tired? Do todays youth even know what it is like to feel really tired????? I doubt it. I doubt that I do either.
Oh Lord, God, change my heart. Make my heart pure. Let me be more like you, who suffered and did not open your mouth.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Not ME Tuesday ;)
OK, here goes....
It was not me who screamed "Shut Up" at my husband who did NOT hurt my feelings till I cried like a leaking faucet all over the house.
It was not me who sang bass at church this past Sunday and rather enjoyed it ;)
It was not me who pulled a muscle in her rump and had to sit on a heating pad for four days and is still limping and taking pain pills and muscle relaxers.
It was not me who ate potatoe chips while watching Biggest Loser on TV.
It was not me who ignored the Big Breakfast that my DH bought me Sunday morning and went through the drive through at McDonalds and ordered a dollar sandwhich instead.
It was also not me who asked the worker at the drive through at McDonalds if they were being held hostage when it took eight minutes for them to come and take my order on Sunday morning.
It is not me that has started yet another diet.
It was not me who read two books this past week while sitting on the heating pad.
It was not me who laughed unrepentedly at my daughter, whose daughter put vasaline in her hair, while I remembered my daughter putting Vicks Salve in hers at about the same age.
It was not me who slunk in my seat when my DH invited someone to ride in our van that looks like it hasn't been cleaned out in a year.
It wasn't me who yelled at my husband for throwing a pastry he didn't like out the car window because I wanted to eat it.
That's it for this week. This was rather fun :)
It was not me who screamed "Shut Up" at my husband who did NOT hurt my feelings till I cried like a leaking faucet all over the house.
It was not me who sang bass at church this past Sunday and rather enjoyed it ;)
It was not me who pulled a muscle in her rump and had to sit on a heating pad for four days and is still limping and taking pain pills and muscle relaxers.
It was not me who ate potatoe chips while watching Biggest Loser on TV.
It was not me who ignored the Big Breakfast that my DH bought me Sunday morning and went through the drive through at McDonalds and ordered a dollar sandwhich instead.
It was also not me who asked the worker at the drive through at McDonalds if they were being held hostage when it took eight minutes for them to come and take my order on Sunday morning.
It is not me that has started yet another diet.
It was not me who read two books this past week while sitting on the heating pad.
It was not me who laughed unrepentedly at my daughter, whose daughter put vasaline in her hair, while I remembered my daughter putting Vicks Salve in hers at about the same age.
It was not me who slunk in my seat when my DH invited someone to ride in our van that looks like it hasn't been cleaned out in a year.
It wasn't me who yelled at my husband for throwing a pastry he didn't like out the car window because I wanted to eat it.
That's it for this week. This was rather fun :)
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