It was not me who took the pile of clothes needing to be put away and made piles on my dresser for the night. I always put my clean clothes away.
It was not me who bought $35 shoes for a child who cannot even walk yet because they squeek in the heel as they are beginning to walk.
It was also not me who bought said shoes a size too big because that was all the vendor had left AND made him wear them to church last night.
It was also not me who justified the buying of those gorgous shoes because I can hand them down to my oldest daughters son when Emmanuel outgrows them.
It was not me who wanted to drop everything and get in the car and drive 1200 miles to be with my brother as he has heart surgery on Thursday. It surely was not me that gave up the idea as quickly as I entertained it.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Not Me Monday
Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.
It was not me who baked TWO Arkansas Pound Cakes in two days. It was not me who realized that just because the name is POUND cake, it doesn't mean you only gain one pound if you eat it.
It was not me who was late picking up my oldest son from the airport. I am never late.
It was not me who forgot to turn the heater back on in the house and woke to see my oldest son, Israel, in his winter coat, sitting in a chair in the living room, doing computer work.
It is not me needing to go to the bathroom but not wanting to stop from my "not me's" long enough to go take care of bathroom business.
It was not me sitting in the fellowship room last night while the men had an impromptu meeting, wishing I was anything but the preachers wife.
It was not me LAUGHING at our Mocha dog having a hissy fit at the patio door because another dog five times his size was on the deck. I have an obedient and quiet dog, so it wasn't me.
and....it was not me who took a list with five complaints to my doctor only to hear that every problem could easily be solved if I lost weight. I have an intelligent doctor, so it could not have been me!
It was not me who baked TWO Arkansas Pound Cakes in two days. It was not me who realized that just because the name is POUND cake, it doesn't mean you only gain one pound if you eat it.
It was not me who was late picking up my oldest son from the airport. I am never late.
It was not me who forgot to turn the heater back on in the house and woke to see my oldest son, Israel, in his winter coat, sitting in a chair in the living room, doing computer work.
It is not me needing to go to the bathroom but not wanting to stop from my "not me's" long enough to go take care of bathroom business.
It was not me sitting in the fellowship room last night while the men had an impromptu meeting, wishing I was anything but the preachers wife.
It was not me LAUGHING at our Mocha dog having a hissy fit at the patio door because another dog five times his size was on the deck. I have an obedient and quiet dog, so it wasn't me.
and....it was not me who took a list with five complaints to my doctor only to hear that every problem could easily be solved if I lost weight. I have an intelligent doctor, so it could not have been me!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Not Me
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
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
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 :)
Saturday, January 24, 2009
President Obama Stirs Me To Post
This is one of those events in my life where I am surprised at myself. Several years ago as a resident of Illinois, my attention was drawn to a 'young' black man that was running for the Senate. I listened to him speak and tho there were topics that we did not agree on, still he drew me to himself and encouraged my spirit.
Now, this 'young' man is president of my country. I live in Wyoming, far away from the hustle and bustle of the Chicago area where I once lived and where Senator Obama reigned.
I watched, with that same draw this past Tuesday during the swearing in. I wasn't at home. I was at WalMart....and all the TV's blared out the words that were promised by our new president.
I was very interested. I wanted to see this historic event. I have two bi racial children, whose coloring is much like President Obama's.
I know most of my fellow Christians disdain him. I've heard them, loud and clear. I always wonder how God feels about what they say and so loudly proclaim both in public and in private.
I've been quiet about my voting this time. My husband knows who I voted for and my children know. Other than that, it was a private time between my God and I and my country.
As I watched the swearing in, I feared that my intense interest might draw attention from fellow Wyomingites who for the most part are anti Obama folks. Then, I chided myself for my lack of courage. I am an American Citizen who SHOULD be watching the inauguration of our new president.
Do I have fears about him being president? Yes, I do. I vote Independant, but usually Republican. I vote for who I believe will be the one that possess the most integrity, honesty, hard working, God fearing man.
I am not always proven correct by the end of the term. I pray about my decision but once the president has been decided, I am by scripture, commanded to respect and honor and obey him.
I haven't seen this from my fellow Christians lately. I am embarrassed by the words I have heard out of their mouths. It makes me all the more determined that I will NOT speak evil against the one that God has put into office, even if I do not agree, even if he does ungodly things. I was remembering today that when we, as Christians were commanded to 'honor the emperor'...just who that emperor was and what HE stood for. Shudder!
Oh God, make me an instrument of your peace, Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen!
Now, this 'young' man is president of my country. I live in Wyoming, far away from the hustle and bustle of the Chicago area where I once lived and where Senator Obama reigned.
I watched, with that same draw this past Tuesday during the swearing in. I wasn't at home. I was at WalMart....and all the TV's blared out the words that were promised by our new president.
I was very interested. I wanted to see this historic event. I have two bi racial children, whose coloring is much like President Obama's.
I know most of my fellow Christians disdain him. I've heard them, loud and clear. I always wonder how God feels about what they say and so loudly proclaim both in public and in private.
I've been quiet about my voting this time. My husband knows who I voted for and my children know. Other than that, it was a private time between my God and I and my country.
As I watched the swearing in, I feared that my intense interest might draw attention from fellow Wyomingites who for the most part are anti Obama folks. Then, I chided myself for my lack of courage. I am an American Citizen who SHOULD be watching the inauguration of our new president.
Do I have fears about him being president? Yes, I do. I vote Independant, but usually Republican. I vote for who I believe will be the one that possess the most integrity, honesty, hard working, God fearing man.
I am not always proven correct by the end of the term. I pray about my decision but once the president has been decided, I am by scripture, commanded to respect and honor and obey him.
I haven't seen this from my fellow Christians lately. I am embarrassed by the words I have heard out of their mouths. It makes me all the more determined that I will NOT speak evil against the one that God has put into office, even if I do not agree, even if he does ungodly things. I was remembering today that when we, as Christians were commanded to 'honor the emperor'...just who that emperor was and what HE stood for. Shudder!
Oh God, make me an instrument of your peace, Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen!
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
A Cup of Mocha, Please
As you have read in a previous posting, our old dog, Sami was laid to rest December 31st of last year. Knowing that the day was coming when he would have to give up his life, my youngest daughter, Sarah bought me a puppy last July for my birthday. This puppy is a Chihuahua that my sweet husband, Kevin named "Mocha".
Mocha is now seven months old. He doesn't look like a puppy anymore, but he is DEFINATELY still abiding by puppy laws.
First and foremost he is very cute and very sweet. I am a sap for those big brown eyes of his. He can be so very naughty and yet look at me with those big browns and I melt...well, almost all of the time.
Not so melting am I when I see HOLES he has put in our carpet. We've tried vinegar, we've tried cayenne pepper sprinkled around so he doesn't think the carpet is one of his gazillion toys to 'play' with. Didn't work.
The vet said to get chewy toys for him so he has something to chew on. He has dozens....didn't work.
We've read on internet web sites to give the pups more attention...that they are lacking in attention when pups behave in this fashion. We gave more attention (was this even possible???) and still....didn't work.
We have contracted with a carpet fixer to have the carpet repaired. If this continues, we will have to replace the carpet (we rent).
The weather here in Wyoming can get very cold, especially at night. So, instead of using the doggie outhouse (grass), our Mocha uses the throw rug by the doggie door. It IS better than him using the carpet...yes yes.....but still, he KNOWS that is wrong and slinks around the morning after.
When guests come, he jumps and barks. When guests leave, he jumps and barks. When anyone walks past our house....he runs like an attack dog and barks. If you leave something (like my panties) on the floor in your room...you know, a PRIVATE place in the house.....he finds them and carries them to the front deck to greet your guests that are coming for lunch. How appetizing.
But, at the close of day....when my work is done, and I am in my nightgown and snuggled in my recliner....he is also in the crook of my arm, nuzzling close and snoozing away. What peace he brings to me.
I'll make it through another day if you will just give me "another cup of Mocha, please".
Mocha is now seven months old. He doesn't look like a puppy anymore, but he is DEFINATELY still abiding by puppy laws.
First and foremost he is very cute and very sweet. I am a sap for those big brown eyes of his. He can be so very naughty and yet look at me with those big browns and I melt...well, almost all of the time.
Not so melting am I when I see HOLES he has put in our carpet. We've tried vinegar, we've tried cayenne pepper sprinkled around so he doesn't think the carpet is one of his gazillion toys to 'play' with. Didn't work.
The vet said to get chewy toys for him so he has something to chew on. He has dozens....didn't work.
We've read on internet web sites to give the pups more attention...that they are lacking in attention when pups behave in this fashion. We gave more attention (was this even possible???) and still....didn't work.
We have contracted with a carpet fixer to have the carpet repaired. If this continues, we will have to replace the carpet (we rent).
The weather here in Wyoming can get very cold, especially at night. So, instead of using the doggie outhouse (grass), our Mocha uses the throw rug by the doggie door. It IS better than him using the carpet...yes yes.....but still, he KNOWS that is wrong and slinks around the morning after.
When guests come, he jumps and barks. When guests leave, he jumps and barks. When anyone walks past our house....he runs like an attack dog and barks. If you leave something (like my panties) on the floor in your room...you know, a PRIVATE place in the house.....he finds them and carries them to the front deck to greet your guests that are coming for lunch. How appetizing.
But, at the close of day....when my work is done, and I am in my nightgown and snuggled in my recliner....he is also in the crook of my arm, nuzzling close and snoozing away. What peace he brings to me.
I'll make it through another day if you will just give me "another cup of Mocha, please".
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Church Business Meetings
It's business meeting Saturday. Honestly, I hate these once a month or once a quarter meetings. My stress level is soaring, no matter how much I am praying for the men involved and especially for my precious and dear husband.
It almost irratates me that Kevin says that he is peaceful over the meeting. Doesn't he realize all that can go wrong during one of these?
I am sure it is my past experiences--probably some intermingled Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome that needs to be addressed with my counsellor :)
I am waiting at home to pray and wonder and fret (even tho God has said "Fret Not!"), wringing my hands in anticipation of seeing what the look on my husbands face will be when he returns home. I hate this.
I am sure that is not the good Christian ministers wife attitude that I should have. But here I am, confessing it is the one that pervades my mind today.
What will be the outcome of the difficult things the men are discussing? Will it be that our burdens as ministers will be heavier? Lighter? About the same?
Will the men be one in mind and spirit and come to agreement.
***********
My husband has returned from the mens meeting. The information that he shares with me is not good. The traumatic stress is up front and in my face again. I feel so frustrated that so many men do not stand up for what is good and right and just let things slide. I've seen it all my life and it not only irks me, it grieves me. Where are the leaders that GOD would raise up?
There's much, as a ministers wife that I cannot write here just because of who I am and the job that is entrusted to me. I am seared this morning.
If you are a believer and you pray, please pray for us. There are decisions to be made that are not easy ones. They are grevious to us. Not what we had planned. Sigh.
It would be great if Jesus would just return and we could be done with all this earth trash.
It almost irratates me that Kevin says that he is peaceful over the meeting. Doesn't he realize all that can go wrong during one of these?
I am sure it is my past experiences--probably some intermingled Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome that needs to be addressed with my counsellor :)
I am waiting at home to pray and wonder and fret (even tho God has said "Fret Not!"), wringing my hands in anticipation of seeing what the look on my husbands face will be when he returns home. I hate this.
I am sure that is not the good Christian ministers wife attitude that I should have. But here I am, confessing it is the one that pervades my mind today.
What will be the outcome of the difficult things the men are discussing? Will it be that our burdens as ministers will be heavier? Lighter? About the same?
Will the men be one in mind and spirit and come to agreement.
***********
My husband has returned from the mens meeting. The information that he shares with me is not good. The traumatic stress is up front and in my face again. I feel so frustrated that so many men do not stand up for what is good and right and just let things slide. I've seen it all my life and it not only irks me, it grieves me. Where are the leaders that GOD would raise up?
There's much, as a ministers wife that I cannot write here just because of who I am and the job that is entrusted to me. I am seared this morning.
If you are a believer and you pray, please pray for us. There are decisions to be made that are not easy ones. They are grevious to us. Not what we had planned. Sigh.
It would be great if Jesus would just return and we could be done with all this earth trash.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Do You Take Kevin?
Remember the words the minister said..."Do you take Kevin?"....to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward....blah, blah, blah
It's been 31 years 4 months and 4 days and one hour ago. I didn't know way back then, what a wonderful, wonderful man God had blessed me with. I thought I knew. There was no way I could have known or foreseen what the years ahead would bring and how Kevin and I would meld together and become one.
This man, this wonderful, precious and sweet man is my husband. Sometimes I am still overwhelmed with the wonder of it.
We have gone through many seasons in our life together. After marrying we had all of about two months before I got pregnant with our first child. He was born about a month and a half before our first wedding anniversary. We really never knew time just the two of us as our first pregnancy was one where I threw up every single day, several times a day, and fainted at the most inoportune times.
Israel was born in July, I miscarried shortly thereafter and then was pregnant again in January, birthed second child in October, miscarried shortly thereafter and then pregnant again in March and delivered third baby in December. Had my tubes tied and found out I was pregnant at my six weeks check up. OOPS. We miscarried that baby and had another tubaligation.
When our third child was a year old, we put in an application to become foster parents. We've had 17 foster children over the years. Ten years after our first child, we adopted two children, twins--a boy and a girl, newborn.
Total children: 5.
Days were taken up in the intensity of having three babies in three years and grieving the death of three other infants. The intensity sometimes was overwhelming, but it also was full of laughter, joy at watching the ever learning and growing children, celebrating EVERY holiday, finding reasons to have another party and in all of that, Kevin and I were growing up, too.
Kevin and I shared parenthood. When the older kids were preschool, Kevin would come home from work and while I cleaned up after dinner, Kevin would run the kids through their baths, dress them for bed and then tell them a story and pray with them.
This ritual was repeated with differing details even as the children grew older. They loved their daddys stories and just the other day, Jonathan (now 20 years old) referenced a story that Kevin had told when Jon was about four years old. ha.
The kids continued to get older.....the intensity of having babies changed to the intensity of elementary school, then junior high and then high school. We had teenagers for thirteen years! We went through changing diapers to changing hairstyles, gobs of hairspray, rolled hem jeans, Israel wearing only black or grey, puffed bangs, t-ball, regular ball, basketball, Little Miss Texas, football, learning to play various instruments, having valedictorians, historians and barely graduating by the skin of their teeth.
College came and went, some graduated, some did not....and then, Daddy Kevin got his degree....with his grown kids cheering him on. Go Kevin.
We moved 47 times, created many houses into homes, realized home was the people (us), lived in many different states, met many wonderful people, grew and changed and journeyed together spiritually, studying the Bible and making many decisions.
We have been empty nesters and then welcomed children back home. Discovered grandchildren are awesome! We now have nine.
We are still becoming one and Kevin still says, "I do".
We have entered the last half of our lives. We contemplate 'going home' and the joy that will follow for us. Our lives now are pretty much lives of service for others. Kevin is getting his Masters in Counselling. He NEEDS to learn more about that so our service will be more profitable for others. It stretches us and grows us for him to pursue this. It is good.
Our lives continue to change, to become more one, to have great joys and deep sorrows and dissappointments. Our parents are getting quite old. I have one grandparent left alive on the earth. Our parents have aging issues. We live a long way from them. That is hard. We understand each others feelings about this because we share it.
Our children are across the country in Virginia and Chicago...and two are here. Likewise, grandchildren.
When we were first married Kevin held me and said, "Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be" and clearly, he spoke the truth. Every new day is the best. Do I take Kevin? Yes, still do...more than ever.....
It's been 31 years 4 months and 4 days and one hour ago. I didn't know way back then, what a wonderful, wonderful man God had blessed me with. I thought I knew. There was no way I could have known or foreseen what the years ahead would bring and how Kevin and I would meld together and become one.
This man, this wonderful, precious and sweet man is my husband. Sometimes I am still overwhelmed with the wonder of it.
We have gone through many seasons in our life together. After marrying we had all of about two months before I got pregnant with our first child. He was born about a month and a half before our first wedding anniversary. We really never knew time just the two of us as our first pregnancy was one where I threw up every single day, several times a day, and fainted at the most inoportune times.
Israel was born in July, I miscarried shortly thereafter and then was pregnant again in January, birthed second child in October, miscarried shortly thereafter and then pregnant again in March and delivered third baby in December. Had my tubes tied and found out I was pregnant at my six weeks check up. OOPS. We miscarried that baby and had another tubaligation.
When our third child was a year old, we put in an application to become foster parents. We've had 17 foster children over the years. Ten years after our first child, we adopted two children, twins--a boy and a girl, newborn.
Total children: 5.
Days were taken up in the intensity of having three babies in three years and grieving the death of three other infants. The intensity sometimes was overwhelming, but it also was full of laughter, joy at watching the ever learning and growing children, celebrating EVERY holiday, finding reasons to have another party and in all of that, Kevin and I were growing up, too.
Kevin and I shared parenthood. When the older kids were preschool, Kevin would come home from work and while I cleaned up after dinner, Kevin would run the kids through their baths, dress them for bed and then tell them a story and pray with them.
This ritual was repeated with differing details even as the children grew older. They loved their daddys stories and just the other day, Jonathan (now 20 years old) referenced a story that Kevin had told when Jon was about four years old. ha.
The kids continued to get older.....the intensity of having babies changed to the intensity of elementary school, then junior high and then high school. We had teenagers for thirteen years! We went through changing diapers to changing hairstyles, gobs of hairspray, rolled hem jeans, Israel wearing only black or grey, puffed bangs, t-ball, regular ball, basketball, Little Miss Texas, football, learning to play various instruments, having valedictorians, historians and barely graduating by the skin of their teeth.
College came and went, some graduated, some did not....and then, Daddy Kevin got his degree....with his grown kids cheering him on. Go Kevin.
We moved 47 times, created many houses into homes, realized home was the people (us), lived in many different states, met many wonderful people, grew and changed and journeyed together spiritually, studying the Bible and making many decisions.
We have been empty nesters and then welcomed children back home. Discovered grandchildren are awesome! We now have nine.
We are still becoming one and Kevin still says, "I do".
We have entered the last half of our lives. We contemplate 'going home' and the joy that will follow for us. Our lives now are pretty much lives of service for others. Kevin is getting his Masters in Counselling. He NEEDS to learn more about that so our service will be more profitable for others. It stretches us and grows us for him to pursue this. It is good.
Our lives continue to change, to become more one, to have great joys and deep sorrows and dissappointments. Our parents are getting quite old. I have one grandparent left alive on the earth. Our parents have aging issues. We live a long way from them. That is hard. We understand each others feelings about this because we share it.
Our children are across the country in Virginia and Chicago...and two are here. Likewise, grandchildren.
When we were first married Kevin held me and said, "Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be" and clearly, he spoke the truth. Every new day is the best. Do I take Kevin? Yes, still do...more than ever.....
Friday, October 17, 2008
Waiting for 'the call'
I am in countdown. My oldest daughter is to give birth SOON. Her due date is October 29th, but she has never gone all the way to her due date.
I won't be there for this glorious event and my heart aches and grieves. Such a special moment making a special memory. I will also miss the anticipating WITH my daughter. I love seeing her pregnant. It is beautiful. I know she is aching and tired, especially with this, her fourth child in four years. But, she glows, she's excited and I'm excited too and to be together with this excitement is something that can never be replaced.
My heart has already welcomed Samuel James into our family and I am anxious to see what he looks like. I will miss the labor and the close intercession that I usually do. The singing of blessing during the labor and watching my incredible daughter--what a woman!
This birthing is different. I am home caring for another daughter and another baby. A special baby with special needs. Jessica blessed me with a 'releasing' call; releasing me from being with her for Samuels birth. We both cried. The desires of our hearts were the same.
So, now I wait for 'the call'. I will hear via the phone that my daughter is in labor. And I will pray from afar. It's the same to the Lord, but it is not the same for the Mother. I will pray and I will continue my work in Wyoming. I will pray and I will do some grieving. I will pray and do some laboring right along with my dauhter. And...I will pray and then, I will get 'the call'. We will rejoice together....all is well. Then, I will wait for a picture. Usually I am the one sending out the pictures from Jessica's house.
I'm not the best photographer, and I have managed to run out of batteries during Rose's birth and then totally erase all the one hundred or so pictures of Lela's birth. I obviously am not the usual one doing the picture taking. ha.
So, today.....may be the day. I am guessing, October 27th. I am guessing, 8 lbs 2 ounces. I am guessing, 22 inches long.
And now....we wait for the call.
I won't be there for this glorious event and my heart aches and grieves. Such a special moment making a special memory. I will also miss the anticipating WITH my daughter. I love seeing her pregnant. It is beautiful. I know she is aching and tired, especially with this, her fourth child in four years. But, she glows, she's excited and I'm excited too and to be together with this excitement is something that can never be replaced.
My heart has already welcomed Samuel James into our family and I am anxious to see what he looks like. I will miss the labor and the close intercession that I usually do. The singing of blessing during the labor and watching my incredible daughter--what a woman!
This birthing is different. I am home caring for another daughter and another baby. A special baby with special needs. Jessica blessed me with a 'releasing' call; releasing me from being with her for Samuels birth. We both cried. The desires of our hearts were the same.
So, now I wait for 'the call'. I will hear via the phone that my daughter is in labor. And I will pray from afar. It's the same to the Lord, but it is not the same for the Mother. I will pray and I will continue my work in Wyoming. I will pray and I will do some grieving. I will pray and do some laboring right along with my dauhter. And...I will pray and then, I will get 'the call'. We will rejoice together....all is well. Then, I will wait for a picture. Usually I am the one sending out the pictures from Jessica's house.
I'm not the best photographer, and I have managed to run out of batteries during Rose's birth and then totally erase all the one hundred or so pictures of Lela's birth. I obviously am not the usual one doing the picture taking. ha.
So, today.....may be the day. I am guessing, October 27th. I am guessing, 8 lbs 2 ounces. I am guessing, 22 inches long.
And now....we wait for the call.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
A Blast From The Past
GREAT is HIS faithfulness....oh God my Father. I have to shout "Glory" today. There are pressing moments every day that cause me to sigh out to God. I ask for strength to continue on when my weak body is not living up to my expectations.
Then, God showers down strength, grace and blessings and my spirit is running in the rain of them, like I did when I was a little girl delighting in a spring rain.
Today I had a blast from my past. Kevin received an email from one of our fosters sons from about 26 years ago. A little baby came to live with us for two short weeks. We named him John Mark....after two beloved men in the New Testament. John Mark now carries another name that was given to him by his adoptive parents. He is searching for some of his roots and found our names on a letter that I wrote to him as he was leaving our home and then found our name on the internet.
Thank you, God. It has always been a dream of mine to reconnect with our past foster children in some way. I don't know how much 'John Mark' wants to reconnect and we will respect his desires about that.
I enjoyed having foster babies. The foster 'children' were much more challenging and difficult. The babies I always thought were the most fun. We were the interim family that the baby stayed with until the red tape could go through for their adoptive parents.
Those two weeks that John Mark lived with us were filled with infant fun. We didn't know we would only have him for two weeks and we were shocked when Christian Homes of Abilene called to say the paperwork was through and John Mark would be going to his adoptive parents.
Being a foster parent is special. I always saw it as a gift from God. It was a special time for all our family. And when the babys went on to their new home, our heart strings were stretched. Happy for them; happy for the baby, and us? Well, our mission was 'accomplished', but it took longer for the heart to let go.
Trusting that the Lord's will is perfect, I could again and again place my hand in His and allow Him to sooth my heart strings. I would throw myself into special time with our three children and maybe do some special projects with them. There was always, coming home from the placement, stripping the baby crib and putting away baby toys etc. That is when my tears would flow and I would pray. I waited until Israel, Jessica and Rachel went down for their naps and then, I would go through my grieving ritual.
Our fellow foster parents that we went to church with would also call and ask how we were doing. THEY understood the grieving and the rejoicing and how sometimes it would get a bit mixed together.
.........and then, today. Voices from the past rain upon me. I remembered the name, "John Mark"....it took awhile for me to remember which baby the name went with. All day, little details have been coming back to me and I would smile. It's like Christmas in my heart, opening these little memory packages of this little baby who is now grown with a family of his own.
Wow. Such a blast from the past. Thank you, God. I needed that. "Glory"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Then, God showers down strength, grace and blessings and my spirit is running in the rain of them, like I did when I was a little girl delighting in a spring rain.
Today I had a blast from my past. Kevin received an email from one of our fosters sons from about 26 years ago. A little baby came to live with us for two short weeks. We named him John Mark....after two beloved men in the New Testament. John Mark now carries another name that was given to him by his adoptive parents. He is searching for some of his roots and found our names on a letter that I wrote to him as he was leaving our home and then found our name on the internet.
Thank you, God. It has always been a dream of mine to reconnect with our past foster children in some way. I don't know how much 'John Mark' wants to reconnect and we will respect his desires about that.
I enjoyed having foster babies. The foster 'children' were much more challenging and difficult. The babies I always thought were the most fun. We were the interim family that the baby stayed with until the red tape could go through for their adoptive parents.
Those two weeks that John Mark lived with us were filled with infant fun. We didn't know we would only have him for two weeks and we were shocked when Christian Homes of Abilene called to say the paperwork was through and John Mark would be going to his adoptive parents.
Being a foster parent is special. I always saw it as a gift from God. It was a special time for all our family. And when the babys went on to their new home, our heart strings were stretched. Happy for them; happy for the baby, and us? Well, our mission was 'accomplished', but it took longer for the heart to let go.
Trusting that the Lord's will is perfect, I could again and again place my hand in His and allow Him to sooth my heart strings. I would throw myself into special time with our three children and maybe do some special projects with them. There was always, coming home from the placement, stripping the baby crib and putting away baby toys etc. That is when my tears would flow and I would pray. I waited until Israel, Jessica and Rachel went down for their naps and then, I would go through my grieving ritual.
Our fellow foster parents that we went to church with would also call and ask how we were doing. THEY understood the grieving and the rejoicing and how sometimes it would get a bit mixed together.
.........and then, today. Voices from the past rain upon me. I remembered the name, "John Mark"....it took awhile for me to remember which baby the name went with. All day, little details have been coming back to me and I would smile. It's like Christmas in my heart, opening these little memory packages of this little baby who is now grown with a family of his own.
Wow. Such a blast from the past. Thank you, God. I needed that. "Glory"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
"Let It Be To Me" Part 2
Long ago when I first started blogging, I wrote about "Let It Be To Me as YOU Have Said"...quoting from Mary and Gabriels conversation and applying it to my walk with the Lord.
That is really good in principle. It is right. It is godly.
And it is also down right HARD! when the rubber meets the road.
My rubber is meeting several roads right now. Some with road blocks. Some that are dark.
The road block right now is my journey to Jessicas (my oldest daughter) house for the birth of her fourth child. I want to go. I feel like I need to go. I know she wants me there, even needs me to be there. The road is blocked to me. I keep thinking maybe it is just appearing to be blocked and when the time is right, the block will go away and I can happily go to Virginia and witness my ninth grandchild being born and help my daughter.
I don't want to cause Jessica the pain of not having her mother with her during childbirth. I went through that several times and had a wounded place in my heart for a long time.
I don't want to cause Rachel pain. Rachel is my second daughter who lives at Jessica's house right now. In November it will be a year since I have seen her. I miss her. She misses me and was/is looking forward to me being at the birthing of Samuel. "Lord, I will fail her if I'm not there", I have cried.
I don't want to cause my grandchildren the dissapointment of Grandma Joy not coming in October. Right or wrong, we've been telling them I am coming in October and they are/were excited. It's so nice to have grandchildren longing for grandma to come visit. Honestly, I have never had that before and it was/is something that I wanted so much.
So, here I am...one month before Samuels birthing and I am looking at several road blocks preventing me from going to Virginia.
Then, there is the dark road. My eighth grand child, my third grand son, Emmanuel has just been diagnosed with Sickle Cell Anemia (SCA for short). It's a road I have never walked on before. Emmanuel is just one month old (yesterday). He is beautiful and delightful and LOOKS fine. But now we know, there is a dark road ahead. We have to be careful that he is not where germs are so he won't get sick.
We need to stay well, so we don't make him sick. Emmanuels mother, my youngest daughter, Sarah, had to work and I am Emmanuels caretaker (along with helpful grandfather, Kevin). If we are here, Emmanuel would need a different care taker and he would be exposed to germs his little body are not familiar with and he could get sick. Sarah would worry more.
I try not to be paranoid about the dark road, but me and darkness haven't been the best of friends in the past and we are still not companions.
Today, the rubber is meeting the road. I remember the phrase that Mary said to Gabriel, "Let it be to me as you have said" and I remember that I have told the Lord that I would have that same attitude.
Yet, here I have sat....looking at the road blocks and looking down the dark road with my heart beating too fast and my breaths joining in and I have not remembered that I can safely trust my heart to the Lord of my life.
I repent.
I KNOW in whom I have believed. I know He is able. My heart can safely trust in Him.
I return to my previous resolve. "Let It Be To Me as YOU Have Said"
That is really good in principle. It is right. It is godly.
And it is also down right HARD! when the rubber meets the road.
My rubber is meeting several roads right now. Some with road blocks. Some that are dark.
The road block right now is my journey to Jessicas (my oldest daughter) house for the birth of her fourth child. I want to go. I feel like I need to go. I know she wants me there, even needs me to be there. The road is blocked to me. I keep thinking maybe it is just appearing to be blocked and when the time is right, the block will go away and I can happily go to Virginia and witness my ninth grandchild being born and help my daughter.
I don't want to cause Jessica the pain of not having her mother with her during childbirth. I went through that several times and had a wounded place in my heart for a long time.
I don't want to cause Rachel pain. Rachel is my second daughter who lives at Jessica's house right now. In November it will be a year since I have seen her. I miss her. She misses me and was/is looking forward to me being at the birthing of Samuel. "Lord, I will fail her if I'm not there", I have cried.
I don't want to cause my grandchildren the dissapointment of Grandma Joy not coming in October. Right or wrong, we've been telling them I am coming in October and they are/were excited. It's so nice to have grandchildren longing for grandma to come visit. Honestly, I have never had that before and it was/is something that I wanted so much.
So, here I am...one month before Samuels birthing and I am looking at several road blocks preventing me from going to Virginia.
Then, there is the dark road. My eighth grand child, my third grand son, Emmanuel has just been diagnosed with Sickle Cell Anemia (SCA for short). It's a road I have never walked on before. Emmanuel is just one month old (yesterday). He is beautiful and delightful and LOOKS fine. But now we know, there is a dark road ahead. We have to be careful that he is not where germs are so he won't get sick.
We need to stay well, so we don't make him sick. Emmanuels mother, my youngest daughter, Sarah, had to work and I am Emmanuels caretaker (along with helpful grandfather, Kevin). If we are here, Emmanuel would need a different care taker and he would be exposed to germs his little body are not familiar with and he could get sick. Sarah would worry more.
I try not to be paranoid about the dark road, but me and darkness haven't been the best of friends in the past and we are still not companions.
Today, the rubber is meeting the road. I remember the phrase that Mary said to Gabriel, "Let it be to me as you have said" and I remember that I have told the Lord that I would have that same attitude.
Yet, here I have sat....looking at the road blocks and looking down the dark road with my heart beating too fast and my breaths joining in and I have not remembered that I can safely trust my heart to the Lord of my life.
I repent.
I KNOW in whom I have believed. I know He is able. My heart can safely trust in Him.
I return to my previous resolve. "Let It Be To Me as YOU Have Said"
His Arm is Not Shortened
"Behold, Jehovah's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear" Isaiah 59:1
I was thinking about this verse this morning. For the last several weeks I have had some severe pain in my hands, elbows and shoulders along with my regular back pain. Because of the pain, my arms are not as useful and my hands cannot grip what they used to.
Sometimes I think we believe that God's arm/hand is shortened and that His ear is deaf where He cannot hear when we have prayed and God has not done OUR bidding.
This verse in Isaiah is not very big, but the message is huge. God does not have our disabilities. His hand can reach ANYWHERE. God's hand can save ANYONE. God's ears can always hear us.
If you continue on to verse two, the scripture is clear as to why sometimes God's hand appears to be inadequate and that His ears are deaf to our prayers. It is because of OUR SINS. The scripture says: "But your wrongs have separated you from your God, and your sins have made him hide his face so that he doesn't hear you. ...
I do get weary hearing God's children telling me that God doesn't answer their prayers. If God is truly NOT answering prayer, then maybe we should look at OURSELVES and ask why....not look at God and ask, why?
Is God hiding His face from me? from you? so He doesn't hear you or me?
Are my wrongs seperating me/you from God?
When we are walking in the light as He is in the light, the blood of Jesus cleanses us from EVERY sin. That would make the seperation between God and me/you null and void.
Unlike me, who has to strain and reach (sometimes in vain) for a glass on the shelf because my arms don't work right, God never has to strain to reach His children (me and you).
I thank God through Jesus Christ. I am victor because HE remains victorious and His hand is not slackened towards me/you.
I was thinking about this verse this morning. For the last several weeks I have had some severe pain in my hands, elbows and shoulders along with my regular back pain. Because of the pain, my arms are not as useful and my hands cannot grip what they used to.
Sometimes I think we believe that God's arm/hand is shortened and that His ear is deaf where He cannot hear when we have prayed and God has not done OUR bidding.
This verse in Isaiah is not very big, but the message is huge. God does not have our disabilities. His hand can reach ANYWHERE. God's hand can save ANYONE. God's ears can always hear us.
If you continue on to verse two, the scripture is clear as to why sometimes God's hand appears to be inadequate and that His ears are deaf to our prayers. It is because of OUR SINS. The scripture says: "But your wrongs have separated you from your God, and your sins have made him hide his face so that he doesn't hear you. ...
I do get weary hearing God's children telling me that God doesn't answer their prayers. If God is truly NOT answering prayer, then maybe we should look at OURSELVES and ask why....not look at God and ask, why?
Is God hiding His face from me? from you? so He doesn't hear you or me?
Are my wrongs seperating me/you from God?
When we are walking in the light as He is in the light, the blood of Jesus cleanses us from EVERY sin. That would make the seperation between God and me/you null and void.
Unlike me, who has to strain and reach (sometimes in vain) for a glass on the shelf because my arms don't work right, God never has to strain to reach His children (me and you).
I thank God through Jesus Christ. I am victor because HE remains victorious and His hand is not slackened towards me/you.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
I Am So Blessed
I am blessed....
To have five children
To have eight, almost 9 grandchildren
To have a godly husband who is a man of integrity
To have lived 53+ years.
To have many friends who are all different from each other.
To belong to a church family that loves one another
To have both my parents still living
To have a grandmother still living
To have known all my grandparents
To have known three of my great grandparents
To have both of my brothers still living
To have two godly brothers
To have two godly women married to my brothers
To have a fun mother in law who loves me
To have a godly father in law that I respect and love
To have a voice to praise God with
To be saved by the blood of Jesus
To have a lovely home in which to serve others
To own a Bible
To have a working computer
To have food in the fridge
To have a place to cook food that is convenient
To have a dishwasher (I love my dishwasher!!!)
To have a closet overflowing with clothes
To be mentally, emotionally and spiritually healthy
To have a working vehicle
To have so many reasons to giggle
to have so many blessings....that I must stop here and get to working the blessings I have to share with others.
LOVE YALL>>>>>>bye bye
To have five children
To have eight, almost 9 grandchildren
To have a godly husband who is a man of integrity
To have lived 53+ years.
To have many friends who are all different from each other.
To belong to a church family that loves one another
To have both my parents still living
To have a grandmother still living
To have known all my grandparents
To have known three of my great grandparents
To have both of my brothers still living
To have two godly brothers
To have two godly women married to my brothers
To have a fun mother in law who loves me
To have a godly father in law that I respect and love
To have a voice to praise God with
To be saved by the blood of Jesus
To have a lovely home in which to serve others
To own a Bible
To have a working computer
To have food in the fridge
To have a place to cook food that is convenient
To have a dishwasher (I love my dishwasher!!!)
To have a closet overflowing with clothes
To be mentally, emotionally and spiritually healthy
To have a working vehicle
To have so many reasons to giggle
to have so many blessings....that I must stop here and get to working the blessings I have to share with others.
LOVE YALL>>>>>>bye bye
Monday, September 15, 2008
Was It A Morning Like This?
Do you remember the song, Was It A Morning Like This? It was very popular long ago on the music front. It is even in some of our church hymnals these days.
I was pulling the curtains aside this morning and the sun was so very bright it hurt my eyes. The old song popped into my head. I reviewed the words in my mind, "Was it a morning like this? When Mary ran to the tomb....did the grass sing, the earth rejoice to feel you again? Over and over like a trumpet under ground, did the earth seem to shout "he is risen"........
I don't think I even remember the words exactly right.
As quickly as the song came into my mind....my morning routine shouted all around me. There is breakfast to get...and then, clean up. There is my morning ablutions and then picking up the bedroom...there is helping Sarah with the baby....the phone is ringing....the doorbell announcing the arrival of someone who needs some encouragement and on and on.
As I run around, I am no longer even noticing the bright sunshine or the wonderful old song.
As I walk through the dining room, but sun blinds me and I feel a bit of irritation.
Then, it strikes me.....I had already forgotten the joy I felt at remembering the song and noticing the beautiful sunrise this morning.
As I thought about how quickly LIFE interfered with the joy I had felt at seeing the morning.....I was struck once again with the words of the song, but the meaning was changed. It was more like this.....
Was it a morning like this?
When the glory of the Lord shone, when Jesus was raised from the tomb.
But I was in a rush to get breakfast and get it cleaned up.
And I was thinking about how my day was demanding from me already.
Instead of seeing the importance of the morning gift from God,
I see how the dog has tracked muck in from outside and now I have to vacuum the carpet again today.
I see dishes that were left behind 'around' the sink instead of in it or the dishwasher...
I feel the pain in my joints and think about me, me, me......
Yes, for many, even the day our Lord was resurrected...was a 'morning like this'.
It was 'just a morning"...tho the most important event in history had taken place
....and I was busy 'doing'.
As Anne of Green Gables said to Marilla
"Oh what all you have missed"
So Jesus says to me.
What have I missed because I was so busy 'doing' while God was busy providing for me. What glorious event have I missed because the mundane 'must do's' took over my life.
God, please forgive me for not seeing the morning that YOU had planned.
I was pulling the curtains aside this morning and the sun was so very bright it hurt my eyes. The old song popped into my head. I reviewed the words in my mind, "Was it a morning like this? When Mary ran to the tomb....did the grass sing, the earth rejoice to feel you again? Over and over like a trumpet under ground, did the earth seem to shout "he is risen"........
I don't think I even remember the words exactly right.
As quickly as the song came into my mind....my morning routine shouted all around me. There is breakfast to get...and then, clean up. There is my morning ablutions and then picking up the bedroom...there is helping Sarah with the baby....the phone is ringing....the doorbell announcing the arrival of someone who needs some encouragement and on and on.
As I run around, I am no longer even noticing the bright sunshine or the wonderful old song.
As I walk through the dining room, but sun blinds me and I feel a bit of irritation.
Then, it strikes me.....I had already forgotten the joy I felt at remembering the song and noticing the beautiful sunrise this morning.
As I thought about how quickly LIFE interfered with the joy I had felt at seeing the morning.....I was struck once again with the words of the song, but the meaning was changed. It was more like this.....
Was it a morning like this?
When the glory of the Lord shone, when Jesus was raised from the tomb.
But I was in a rush to get breakfast and get it cleaned up.
And I was thinking about how my day was demanding from me already.
Instead of seeing the importance of the morning gift from God,
I see how the dog has tracked muck in from outside and now I have to vacuum the carpet again today.
I see dishes that were left behind 'around' the sink instead of in it or the dishwasher...
I feel the pain in my joints and think about me, me, me......
Yes, for many, even the day our Lord was resurrected...was a 'morning like this'.
It was 'just a morning"...tho the most important event in history had taken place
....and I was busy 'doing'.
As Anne of Green Gables said to Marilla
"Oh what all you have missed"
So Jesus says to me.
What have I missed because I was so busy 'doing' while God was busy providing for me. What glorious event have I missed because the mundane 'must do's' took over my life.
God, please forgive me for not seeing the morning that YOU had planned.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
9/11
Today is September 11th. My husband, Kevin and I went down to the Court House to stand around the flag pole and 'remember'.
It is something we 'chose' to do. We were both so busy we almost decided not to go. I am so glad that we did.
We need to remember that the freedom that we have is freedom we have had to fight for....and die for.
We are not above terrorism.
It could have been in any town, not just New York.
We need to remember the rise of patriotism that came after the horror.
The generosity.
The spiritual attitude of so many.
Flags flying out of car windows and on many, many houses.
Faith in action.
Yes, I needed to remember 9/11.
It is something we 'chose' to do. We were both so busy we almost decided not to go. I am so glad that we did.
We need to remember that the freedom that we have is freedom we have had to fight for....and die for.
We are not above terrorism.
It could have been in any town, not just New York.
We need to remember the rise of patriotism that came after the horror.
The generosity.
The spiritual attitude of so many.
Flags flying out of car windows and on many, many houses.
Faith in action.
Yes, I needed to remember 9/11.
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