Praise the Lord! A well timed Sunday message and some time together, proved fruitful. Yesterday my friend and I worked out our differences and reconciled! Whew! I'm a sap, I admit it. I love happy endings.
Time marches on. It's amazing when you stop to think about it. No matter how happy the day or how tragic. No matter what happens in our lives, no matter who comes or who goes, who lives, who dies, what diagnosis we are given, what pains are thrown into our laps,we may change, but Time never does.
Time doesn't stop to wait for us to catch up. It never turns around to see if we're keeping up. It doesn't change its course for the rich or poor. It doesn't stop for us even when we beg it to. Time waits for no man. We cannot turn it back. We cannot take back the seconds that slip away, imperceptible when ticking away one at a Time, but accumulated they become a lifetime.
Time is eternal. It is forever. It knows every man, woman and child ever born. It counts the tides, it numbers the sunsets. Time is important--what we do with our Time, how we throw our Time away, how we give our Time to God--or not. For every one born, once the Time clock begins there is never any turning back. You are an eternal being because Time has placed its mark on you.
Time becomes most important in eternity after your last earthly breath is taken. How will your Time be spent? Time has become forever. Will you be with God for all of Time or in hell begging for a drop of water to sooth your thirsty soul. Begging for all of Time, but you see, even in eternity, Time never looks back. Once the threshold has been crossed and you have stepped over the timeline into eternal Time, Time does not hand out seconds--no second chances, no extra seconds to make the right decision. So you see, there really is no Time like the present to make the Time to give Jesus your heart. The Time is now.
8/20/2007
8/17/2007
Perceptions of a Lab Puppy
I realized this morning that our experinces in life skew our perception of reality. That's why we are all so different. That's why things we are say or do are so grossly misinterpreted sometimes. I have a friend who has so twisted my intentions and things I have said that I can't be myself around this person. That's sad.
If I had to compare my personality to something, I would guess I'm closest to a Labrador Retriever puppy. I have a zest and exuberance for life, I love to play and I love praise from my Master. I get along with everybody and I rarely growl--I never bite. I show what I'm feeling with a good strong "wag of my tail." I like to be petted and I pet back. I show affection easily and readily and sometimes I run too hard in the house, bumping into things, occasionally breaking something.
This friend thinks I'm a conniver and needy. Those are two words I would never in a million years ascribe to myself. I am going through a rough time right now and have asked for some moral support, but I don't really consider that needy. I consider that good friendship. Perceptions.
Lately I have detected a huge change in the person's attitude. I am extremely sensitive to people's feelings. I can usually tell what people are thinking when they themselves might not know. People are always asking me, "How did you know what I was thinking?" A gift? Maybe. Sometimes I'd rather not know. Like now. I knew I had said something wrong. My friend went from calling me everyday to ignoring me when I would call. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out there's something wrong. I called more than usual and left messages more than usual to try and talk things through. Finally, we talked and what my friend perceived I had done and what I had done were not even close. It's all about perceptions. Then because I had called so much, she got mad that I had called so much. Well, if one would answer the phone the first time one is called then one other wouldn't have to leave so many messages. Makes sense to me. Perceptions.
I have a tendency to give people gifts, do things for them, wear colors and things they like--I kinda thought that's what relationships were built on. I try to do things that please and I have no ulterior motive. I like to say things that build people up and make them feel good about themselves. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Edify people? This friend has totally misconstrued my attempts to please as being clingy and weak! Oh for heaven's sake when did doing things for people become a crime? If someone tells me blue looks good on me, then I'll wear blue around that person more often than not. I don't consider it clingy to try to please someone you care about. Perceptions.
I hate to see our friendship come to an end, but I'm Easy Like Sunday Morning. I don't like messy, complicated, friendships where each word has to be carefully weighed and I'm always worried about offending. I like to be able to show my exuberance for you without misinterpretation. I like to give you things and have my gifts accepted without your thinking there is an ulterior motive behind the act. I like to be accepted for who I am, warts and all with the understanding that I will do the same for you. I like for love to flow freely and naturally and if it bubbles to the surface of my mouth, let me say it without any obligation on your part to say it back. I like to show my excitement when I'm with you. Perceptions.
The lab puppy in me is fiercely loyal, desiring to please, not easily offended, but when offended I put my tail between my legs for awhile, then later try to poke your hand with my nose to get you to pet me once again, will chase sticks and bring them back to you all day to gain your approval and love the water.
The motivation to manipulate, connive and deceive are foreign to me. They involve complicated thought processes and the desire to hurt people because you want them to do and act as you want them to, not as they are. I'm honest, transparent and simple.
I think because of my friends' past experiences, she can't accept my love and friendship without believing every thing I do and say has an ulterior motive. Perceptions skewed by past experience gives everyone a different perspective on reality. Life is full of what is perceived to be. Accepting people is part of your perception of who they are.
If you perceive that someone is gruff, then you might avoid them. But if you let the reality come to you just at face value, you may find out that person has been hurt and walls have been put up, but they are really dying for love and affection. Their perception of your intent has been skewed by their own reality.
Every relationship comes with different perceptions and a different reality. Relationships work best when no one is trying to force their reality onto you. It doesn't work, because your experiences haven't been the same and that makes what you perceive so very different than me.
Empathy, understanding, insight, wisdom, the ability to see more than one perspective, placing value in differences, gaining knowledge when you allow yourself to enter another's reality, if only for a short while, learning from another 's opinion while being confident enough in your own to not be swayed when it's important, though not stubbornly refusing to change, because, you never know, your reality of what doesn't need to be changed may be off-centered because of your past experience. Perceptions.
If I had to compare my personality to something, I would guess I'm closest to a Labrador Retriever puppy. I have a zest and exuberance for life, I love to play and I love praise from my Master. I get along with everybody and I rarely growl--I never bite. I show what I'm feeling with a good strong "wag of my tail." I like to be petted and I pet back. I show affection easily and readily and sometimes I run too hard in the house, bumping into things, occasionally breaking something.
This friend thinks I'm a conniver and needy. Those are two words I would never in a million years ascribe to myself. I am going through a rough time right now and have asked for some moral support, but I don't really consider that needy. I consider that good friendship. Perceptions.
Lately I have detected a huge change in the person's attitude. I am extremely sensitive to people's feelings. I can usually tell what people are thinking when they themselves might not know. People are always asking me, "How did you know what I was thinking?" A gift? Maybe. Sometimes I'd rather not know. Like now. I knew I had said something wrong. My friend went from calling me everyday to ignoring me when I would call. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out there's something wrong. I called more than usual and left messages more than usual to try and talk things through. Finally, we talked and what my friend perceived I had done and what I had done were not even close. It's all about perceptions. Then because I had called so much, she got mad that I had called so much. Well, if one would answer the phone the first time one is called then one other wouldn't have to leave so many messages. Makes sense to me. Perceptions.
I have a tendency to give people gifts, do things for them, wear colors and things they like--I kinda thought that's what relationships were built on. I try to do things that please and I have no ulterior motive. I like to say things that build people up and make them feel good about themselves. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Edify people? This friend has totally misconstrued my attempts to please as being clingy and weak! Oh for heaven's sake when did doing things for people become a crime? If someone tells me blue looks good on me, then I'll wear blue around that person more often than not. I don't consider it clingy to try to please someone you care about. Perceptions.
I hate to see our friendship come to an end, but I'm Easy Like Sunday Morning. I don't like messy, complicated, friendships where each word has to be carefully weighed and I'm always worried about offending. I like to be able to show my exuberance for you without misinterpretation. I like to give you things and have my gifts accepted without your thinking there is an ulterior motive behind the act. I like to be accepted for who I am, warts and all with the understanding that I will do the same for you. I like for love to flow freely and naturally and if it bubbles to the surface of my mouth, let me say it without any obligation on your part to say it back. I like to show my excitement when I'm with you. Perceptions.
The lab puppy in me is fiercely loyal, desiring to please, not easily offended, but when offended I put my tail between my legs for awhile, then later try to poke your hand with my nose to get you to pet me once again, will chase sticks and bring them back to you all day to gain your approval and love the water.
The motivation to manipulate, connive and deceive are foreign to me. They involve complicated thought processes and the desire to hurt people because you want them to do and act as you want them to, not as they are. I'm honest, transparent and simple.
I think because of my friends' past experiences, she can't accept my love and friendship without believing every thing I do and say has an ulterior motive. Perceptions skewed by past experience gives everyone a different perspective on reality. Life is full of what is perceived to be. Accepting people is part of your perception of who they are.
If you perceive that someone is gruff, then you might avoid them. But if you let the reality come to you just at face value, you may find out that person has been hurt and walls have been put up, but they are really dying for love and affection. Their perception of your intent has been skewed by their own reality.
Every relationship comes with different perceptions and a different reality. Relationships work best when no one is trying to force their reality onto you. It doesn't work, because your experiences haven't been the same and that makes what you perceive so very different than me.
Empathy, understanding, insight, wisdom, the ability to see more than one perspective, placing value in differences, gaining knowledge when you allow yourself to enter another's reality, if only for a short while, learning from another 's opinion while being confident enough in your own to not be swayed when it's important, though not stubbornly refusing to change, because, you never know, your reality of what doesn't need to be changed may be off-centered because of your past experience. Perceptions.
8/16/2007
Rambling
I'm up early this morning. I can't sleep during these final chapters of the book. I don't know about other writers, but for me, this is the hardest place in a book's life to see to fruition. The beginning is easy. I get an idea and start putting the words on paper. The middle is basically a fleshing out of the original idea, but the end. The end is the culmination of all the months, and in my case years, of working on a story. The end has to tie all the ideas together and make the reader sigh with contentment. It's a tragedy, indeed, to read a book and think, "What an awful ending." I'm now on page 295--not that pages are that important, but again, too long and the book begins to drag, readers become bored and don't finish the book and then they don't want to read anymore books by the boring author!
The Bible study went well on Monday. Unlike me, some people just don't show emotion. I'm one of those people who dance and sing when I'm happy, I tell people what I think when I love them, I'm extremely transparent. I think my friend has a bit of a problem showing her emotions, but we're working on it. She smiles some now, which is a very good thing. I asked her if she liked the study and Beth Moore and she just sadi, "Yeah." Of course, if you're new to Bible study with Ms. Moore, and she is, Beth can be overwhelming. She speaks my language of excitement and raw energy, though, so for me, I was in my element the first time I heard her.
Gramma is still hanging on to life. I find it incredible. No food to speak of. Pain medicine and no other, yet she refuses to stop breathing. What a constitution! I hope those genes have been passed on to moi.
I got a call from my Daddy's brother yesterday. My aunt is going to have surgery tomorrow and they give her a 50/50 chance of surviving. This is not an extremely good time to be one of my relatives.
Daddy seems to be slipping some physically. He sleeps sound during the day. I can walk in and he doesn't even stir. It's a little disconcerting. My heart stops while I check to make sure he's breathing. He's more breathless when he stirs. He's eating okay. He eats the same exact thing for breakfast, corn flakes with milk and Mtn Dew. Then during the day he snacks on chocolate-covered graham crackers. For supper he has one of three things: A double cheese burger, plain, from MickeyD's, a roast beef from Arby's or a hot dog from Chez Ma Casa. His taste buds must have gone into permanent hibernation.
He's not wandering around so much anymore. Thank You, Dear Jesus. He complains about the noise we make in the morning in the kitchen. Now, you have to realize, his bedroom is right off the kitchen and he sleeps til 10:30 and 11:00 in the morning. I try to be quiet, but...well, let's just say I try.
A friend of my mothers sent me a memorandum from a national bridge players book yesterday. I had another good cry. They are becoming less frequent now, but the last few days the hole in my heart left from her departure is huge. Just when I think it's closing, I look down and see fresh blood oozing from the wound. Death is a painful reminder that we are a long way from home, aliens in this land with a job to do until we are united once and for all with our Christ.
Sometimes I'm reminded of salmon. There are a lot of us swimming the same way on a journey for the good of the species and yet we are so all alone in the direction our one path takes. Only one fish can occupy one space at any given time. His ultimate goal, nay, responsibility? To lay down his one life for the survival of the many. It's all about sacrifice. Jesus paid it all so should we.
Gotta go. Gotta get back to the grindstone.
Peace be to you all who happen across this path during your ramblings here on earth. Welcome. Enjoy the journey. I pray your stay freshened you, encouraged you and you maybe had a chance to take a detour to get a bite of Bread. So now you leave energized and ready for the next adventure. Godspeed, Mon Amis!
The Bible study went well on Monday. Unlike me, some people just don't show emotion. I'm one of those people who dance and sing when I'm happy, I tell people what I think when I love them, I'm extremely transparent. I think my friend has a bit of a problem showing her emotions, but we're working on it. She smiles some now, which is a very good thing. I asked her if she liked the study and Beth Moore and she just sadi, "Yeah." Of course, if you're new to Bible study with Ms. Moore, and she is, Beth can be overwhelming. She speaks my language of excitement and raw energy, though, so for me, I was in my element the first time I heard her.
Gramma is still hanging on to life. I find it incredible. No food to speak of. Pain medicine and no other, yet she refuses to stop breathing. What a constitution! I hope those genes have been passed on to moi.
I got a call from my Daddy's brother yesterday. My aunt is going to have surgery tomorrow and they give her a 50/50 chance of surviving. This is not an extremely good time to be one of my relatives.
Daddy seems to be slipping some physically. He sleeps sound during the day. I can walk in and he doesn't even stir. It's a little disconcerting. My heart stops while I check to make sure he's breathing. He's more breathless when he stirs. He's eating okay. He eats the same exact thing for breakfast, corn flakes with milk and Mtn Dew. Then during the day he snacks on chocolate-covered graham crackers. For supper he has one of three things: A double cheese burger, plain, from MickeyD's, a roast beef from Arby's or a hot dog from Chez Ma Casa. His taste buds must have gone into permanent hibernation.
He's not wandering around so much anymore. Thank You, Dear Jesus. He complains about the noise we make in the morning in the kitchen. Now, you have to realize, his bedroom is right off the kitchen and he sleeps til 10:30 and 11:00 in the morning. I try to be quiet, but...well, let's just say I try.
A friend of my mothers sent me a memorandum from a national bridge players book yesterday. I had another good cry. They are becoming less frequent now, but the last few days the hole in my heart left from her departure is huge. Just when I think it's closing, I look down and see fresh blood oozing from the wound. Death is a painful reminder that we are a long way from home, aliens in this land with a job to do until we are united once and for all with our Christ.
Sometimes I'm reminded of salmon. There are a lot of us swimming the same way on a journey for the good of the species and yet we are so all alone in the direction our one path takes. Only one fish can occupy one space at any given time. His ultimate goal, nay, responsibility? To lay down his one life for the survival of the many. It's all about sacrifice. Jesus paid it all so should we.
Gotta go. Gotta get back to the grindstone.
Peace be to you all who happen across this path during your ramblings here on earth. Welcome. Enjoy the journey. I pray your stay freshened you, encouraged you and you maybe had a chance to take a detour to get a bite of Bread. So now you leave energized and ready for the next adventure. Godspeed, Mon Amis!
8/13/2007
My Trash, Someone Else's Treasure
Okay, Girls, God is using me once again to minister through my past mistakes which have led to current hurts. This time it is through my marriage experiences. I have prayed for this for years and now--my prayers are becoming reality.
My marriage has been loveless and one of convenience. I stay in it because I need the finances. My husband stays because he doesn't want to lose finances through divorce. He is not a Christian. He has been physically , verbally and emotionally abusive our entire marriage. The physical abuse stopped when he got too old to throw me to the floor. The verbal and emotional stuff still continues, but God has buffered my heart to the jabs. I no longer let him drill holes into my heart where self-esteem escaped like steam from a boiling pot.
Anyway, two dear friends of mine are having marital difficulty. They each have opened up to me and confided to me things about their spouses and their marriage they haven't told others or each other. It's amazing to me how they think they don't know each other very well, yet they have both been on-the-nose about how the other acts. Neither has much empathy for the others' reactions, though. I've been asking God to show me how to help them. I believe their marriage is salvageable. Yesterday, I talked to the female portion of the marriage for over three hours--a lot of it was about her marriage which just celebrated its 35th year. She talked and I took mental notes.
The Holy Spirit prompted me to ask her about doing a Bible study together. She said, "Great." I asked her which one. She had no clue so I suggested Beth Moore's Breaking Free. She said, "Fine." I asked, "When." Again she was speechless so I suggested tomorrow (which is today). She agreed! Awesome. I'm taking two study books with me over to her house today at 11:00am and we are going to embark on this study together. I'm so excited God is using me this way. I'm bursting at the seams.
This woman has a lot of bitterness and apathy, but she's given herself over to God. Now her softening heart is receiving words from Him to let go of her grip on her marriage and to take hold of Him with a firm grip. She's working on it. She's ripe for this study, open to change. Pray for us, Siestas, as we embark on this spiritual journey. I have done this study before, but it certainly won't hurt to rekindle the truths found within the pages.
Now it is becoming crystal clear why I wasn't to direct the Christmas drama. I thought it had everything to do with the book, but that was only a small portion. There is a drama that has been thrown into my lap and it wasn't created out of someone's mind as a work of fiction to be performed. It is real, the characters are real and the ending is yet to be written.
My marriage has been loveless and one of convenience. I stay in it because I need the finances. My husband stays because he doesn't want to lose finances through divorce. He is not a Christian. He has been physically , verbally and emotionally abusive our entire marriage. The physical abuse stopped when he got too old to throw me to the floor. The verbal and emotional stuff still continues, but God has buffered my heart to the jabs. I no longer let him drill holes into my heart where self-esteem escaped like steam from a boiling pot.
Anyway, two dear friends of mine are having marital difficulty. They each have opened up to me and confided to me things about their spouses and their marriage they haven't told others or each other. It's amazing to me how they think they don't know each other very well, yet they have both been on-the-nose about how the other acts. Neither has much empathy for the others' reactions, though. I've been asking God to show me how to help them. I believe their marriage is salvageable. Yesterday, I talked to the female portion of the marriage for over three hours--a lot of it was about her marriage which just celebrated its 35th year. She talked and I took mental notes.
The Holy Spirit prompted me to ask her about doing a Bible study together. She said, "Great." I asked her which one. She had no clue so I suggested Beth Moore's Breaking Free. She said, "Fine." I asked, "When." Again she was speechless so I suggested tomorrow (which is today). She agreed! Awesome. I'm taking two study books with me over to her house today at 11:00am and we are going to embark on this study together. I'm so excited God is using me this way. I'm bursting at the seams.
This woman has a lot of bitterness and apathy, but she's given herself over to God. Now her softening heart is receiving words from Him to let go of her grip on her marriage and to take hold of Him with a firm grip. She's working on it. She's ripe for this study, open to change. Pray for us, Siestas, as we embark on this spiritual journey. I have done this study before, but it certainly won't hurt to rekindle the truths found within the pages.
Now it is becoming crystal clear why I wasn't to direct the Christmas drama. I thought it had everything to do with the book, but that was only a small portion. There is a drama that has been thrown into my lap and it wasn't created out of someone's mind as a work of fiction to be performed. It is real, the characters are real and the ending is yet to be written.
8/11/2007
Final Jeopardy!
Well, I guess you don't live 102 1/2 years to give up when everyone else expects you to. My Gramma was expected to die Thursday. They called all the family in to say their last good-byes, but her stubborn will and tenacity have precluded death. Gramma is taking morphine and nothing else. She has two infections, one in her mouth and the other of unknown origin yet she lives. Everyone keeps asking what God has in mind when He lets her live in such a painful, miserable state. Another question that won't be answered until we see Him face-to-face. I keep thinking, "Children obey your parents so that you may live long in the land." She must have been an extremely obedient child!
Daddy is status quo. He is eating, sitting in his chair and when I come to my study to write, he peeps his head in the door to see if I'm here. That's the only time he gets up which is funny because that's the only time I ask everyone to leave me in solitude.
I've made a big decision that left me sad, but clearly God has led me to make. I direct the church's Christmas drama every year. This week, about two weeks later than usual, I went in to look over the musicals to see which one I would do. This year, I am not to direct. I am to focus all my energy on my Daddy and getting this book published. It's sad because I enjoy it and the community expects it, but right now there is a bigger task at hand. The drama takes a lot out of me. I've ended up in the hospital twice while directing and I usually lose about 10-12 pounds. Plus, when I direct, I can focus on nothing else. My book would have to lay dorment until April when I recover and feel creative again. That just can't happen. I'm into the story of the book and I can't afford to lose it. Others in the church will have to draw together and direct, more than likely part of His plan. To show them they can do it.
That said, the book is slowly drawing to a close. The principle characters are in place now for a final showdown of sorts. I'm on page 251 so I better wrap it up soon or I'll have a War and Peace on my hands. I pumped out about twenty pages today. Thank You, Lord!
Seeking, searching, discovering, coming up empty, starting over, broken hearts, sorrow, excitement, joy, peace, confusion, disappointment, relief, laughter, tears, grief, loss, rest, mountain-tops, valleys and ravines--What are the emotions in the day and life of Jesus Girl!
Well, time to get Daddy his bath. He reminds me of a cat not wanting to get wet.
I love you guys and I cannot begin to express how deeply the comments and encouragement you give mean to me. My heart skips a beat when I see I have a comment from one of you. A special love and warmth to K, my new soul mate and confidante. Love to you, Siesta!
Daddy is status quo. He is eating, sitting in his chair and when I come to my study to write, he peeps his head in the door to see if I'm here. That's the only time he gets up which is funny because that's the only time I ask everyone to leave me in solitude.
I've made a big decision that left me sad, but clearly God has led me to make. I direct the church's Christmas drama every year. This week, about two weeks later than usual, I went in to look over the musicals to see which one I would do. This year, I am not to direct. I am to focus all my energy on my Daddy and getting this book published. It's sad because I enjoy it and the community expects it, but right now there is a bigger task at hand. The drama takes a lot out of me. I've ended up in the hospital twice while directing and I usually lose about 10-12 pounds. Plus, when I direct, I can focus on nothing else. My book would have to lay dorment until April when I recover and feel creative again. That just can't happen. I'm into the story of the book and I can't afford to lose it. Others in the church will have to draw together and direct, more than likely part of His plan. To show them they can do it.
That said, the book is slowly drawing to a close. The principle characters are in place now for a final showdown of sorts. I'm on page 251 so I better wrap it up soon or I'll have a War and Peace on my hands. I pumped out about twenty pages today. Thank You, Lord!
Seeking, searching, discovering, coming up empty, starting over, broken hearts, sorrow, excitement, joy, peace, confusion, disappointment, relief, laughter, tears, grief, loss, rest, mountain-tops, valleys and ravines--What are the emotions in the day and life of Jesus Girl!
Well, time to get Daddy his bath. He reminds me of a cat not wanting to get wet.
I love you guys and I cannot begin to express how deeply the comments and encouragement you give mean to me. My heart skips a beat when I see I have a comment from one of you. A special love and warmth to K, my new soul mate and confidante. Love to you, Siesta!
8/09/2007
A Glimpse into the Known
You have to watch this little girl! Amazing! And the little childern shall lead them.
http://www.godtube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=9e7c4b40cf5a13cea6ca
Gotta call from my Momma's brother tonight. My Gramma is very sick in the hospital. They aren't expecting her to live more than a day or two. She'll be united with her husband and four children, including my Momma. It's been a good 102 years for her. I know she's ready to go home, though.
Tonight while sitting with Daddy in the den trying to watch a little TV he started telling me about how he met his wife (my Momma). Then my husband walked through and my Daddy asked, "How old did you say your Grandaddy is?" He was talking about my husband. Sometimes living with Daddy is such a hoot! He makes me laugh so hard! He laughed with me even though he didn't know why he was laughing which of course made me laugh harder! It's times like these that remind me why and how I can face another day. I saw some of my real Daddy in those eyes tonight. I made hamburgers and corn on the cob. He ate every bite, plus chips. Bravo!
Where does the mind wander off to? What makes it leave the reality of this life for someplace else? Have your experiences and the people you came to know been such disappointments to you that you decided to let them go for your own version of truth or did some interloper barge in, uninvited to steal your senses, confounding you? What takes away the simplicity of remembering the things you were good at? What is it that blocks the way for you to add and subtract simple numbers when math was your best subject? Now? Now you have a hard time knowing the difference between five dollars and five thousand.
Yet tucked away in the recesses of gray matter, particles float in and out of the realm of your grasp. A bit of history. Your wife, whose name you can no longer remember, but you know exactly where you were when you met. My Gramma you know was a good woman, but you don't remember going to visit with her a few weeks ago. What a bizarre design on this puzzle.
I love you, Daddy and I miss you most days. It was good to visit with you today. It was good to see you through those windows to the soul and know somewhere deep in the abyss my Daddy still exist.
Thank You, Lord, for the opportunity. What a sweet balm to my worn soul. You always do know best. You?...well, no words can give justice to Your goodness, so I'll just say, "Good night and thank You."
http://www.godtube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=9e7c4b40cf5a13cea6ca
Gotta call from my Momma's brother tonight. My Gramma is very sick in the hospital. They aren't expecting her to live more than a day or two. She'll be united with her husband and four children, including my Momma. It's been a good 102 years for her. I know she's ready to go home, though.
Tonight while sitting with Daddy in the den trying to watch a little TV he started telling me about how he met his wife (my Momma). Then my husband walked through and my Daddy asked, "How old did you say your Grandaddy is?" He was talking about my husband. Sometimes living with Daddy is such a hoot! He makes me laugh so hard! He laughed with me even though he didn't know why he was laughing which of course made me laugh harder! It's times like these that remind me why and how I can face another day. I saw some of my real Daddy in those eyes tonight. I made hamburgers and corn on the cob. He ate every bite, plus chips. Bravo!
Where does the mind wander off to? What makes it leave the reality of this life for someplace else? Have your experiences and the people you came to know been such disappointments to you that you decided to let them go for your own version of truth or did some interloper barge in, uninvited to steal your senses, confounding you? What takes away the simplicity of remembering the things you were good at? What is it that blocks the way for you to add and subtract simple numbers when math was your best subject? Now? Now you have a hard time knowing the difference between five dollars and five thousand.
Yet tucked away in the recesses of gray matter, particles float in and out of the realm of your grasp. A bit of history. Your wife, whose name you can no longer remember, but you know exactly where you were when you met. My Gramma you know was a good woman, but you don't remember going to visit with her a few weeks ago. What a bizarre design on this puzzle.
I love you, Daddy and I miss you most days. It was good to visit with you today. It was good to see you through those windows to the soul and know somewhere deep in the abyss my Daddy still exist.
Thank You, Lord, for the opportunity. What a sweet balm to my worn soul. You always do know best. You?...well, no words can give justice to Your goodness, so I'll just say, "Good night and thank You."
8/08/2007
Wild!
My husband says I've changed since my Daddy moved in and I guess he's right. I know I'm much quieter now. I'm not so wide-eyed and innocent. Taking care of Daddy is stripping that part of me away. It's taken me awhile to finally grow up. I suppose it happens to the best of us. I kinda like being Peter Pan, though. I'm gonna miss that portion of me. It's something I can never get back, never go to again. Like when you find out for the first time there really is no Santa Claus. Hard as you try to still believe, you just can't. Bye, Peter.
Other, more trivial things, are taking some adjustment, too. Daddy has a tendency to tell me what to do, scold me for going to the movie all the time, turn off the TV because he doesn't want to watch "that junk" even though me or my daughter or both of us might me in the room watching said "junk," show me how to rinse out the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher (I've been married for 17 years!), discipline my sixteen year old human child and my three dog children--they are now leary of his every move, etc.
The little girl in me winces when he scolds, bows down in obedience at his commands, does as told without question, however, the married adult, mother of one resents the intrusion. My home is MY home. I don't need a stranger-and he is a stranger- coming in to tell me how to run things.
And, at the same time he's telling me about what I'm doing wrong, he needs help getting dressed after a shower (which I have to insist he take), he has to be reminded when to eat, reminded that he likes hamburgers, explain what a hamburger is, he has to be shown which way to bed and bath, he has to have the phone answered for him, his checkbook is now my responsibility, and told twenty times a day what my Momma's name was. It's wild!
I'm anxious, too, because I haven't heard back from the publisher. My writing has come to a stand-still. I sat down to the computer last week and it was awful. I didn't know the style of that person's writing at all. I haven't had the urge to try anymore. Even blogging has become stifled and hard.
I just flat out miss my Mom. I called her about everything and now I don't have her. And, to be honest, Daddy being here is a moment-by-moment reminder that she's gone. I would've gone over to talk out my feelings of rejection and discouragement where the book is concerned. She would have talked me through it. Daddy would not have been an issue. In fact, I would have been talking her through some of what she expeerienced with him. Peter. Where is Peter when I need him? I need to fly away to Never Land.
My house is clean though. I'm a terrible housekeeper, but avoiding Daddy has led me to clean. I've been a cleaning engine. It's wild! I got up to go to bed last night and started cleaning my bathroom. My daughter said in astonishment, "What are you doing?" She had never experienced seeing her Mom clean just to clean. No company coming. No reason. Just to clean. Miracles never cease! Wild!
Daddy has started wandering. That is a grave concern to me. What if he goes out into the garage at night and I don't hear him? He would smother. So far, he just wanders into my bedroom about 1:30am looking for Momma. Wild! He asks me to get up and help her because he hears her screaming. Can't explain to him that she's not screaming where she is.
Got a call this morning. My Gramma (102 8/12's) is in the hospital getting potassium and blood transfusions. What are these people thinking? She's tired. She has no idea where she is. She hurts from arthritis. She has to wear a diaper for Pete's sake. Why don't they let her go peacefully? Wild!
I know this book has satan's ire up. My friend, Hope, told me to watch out because he would be angry at the things I'm writing in this book. He is after me with all he's got. No holds barred. Every one of my weaknesses are being attacked. The self-doubt, the fear, the confusion, my marriage--all of it. An attack on every single weakness. I can't think of one that is not under attack.
I will get this book finished. I will get it out there. I will find a publisher. God has sent me on this mission and I will fight for it to the finish! I am in the King's army and I am a soldier of the Cross. He will give me strength. I will endure. I am His and He is mine and together will we scale this mountain--a difficult climb! Wild!
Other, more trivial things, are taking some adjustment, too. Daddy has a tendency to tell me what to do, scold me for going to the movie all the time, turn off the TV because he doesn't want to watch "that junk" even though me or my daughter or both of us might me in the room watching said "junk," show me how to rinse out the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher (I've been married for 17 years!), discipline my sixteen year old human child and my three dog children--they are now leary of his every move, etc.
The little girl in me winces when he scolds, bows down in obedience at his commands, does as told without question, however, the married adult, mother of one resents the intrusion. My home is MY home. I don't need a stranger-and he is a stranger- coming in to tell me how to run things.
And, at the same time he's telling me about what I'm doing wrong, he needs help getting dressed after a shower (which I have to insist he take), he has to be reminded when to eat, reminded that he likes hamburgers, explain what a hamburger is, he has to be shown which way to bed and bath, he has to have the phone answered for him, his checkbook is now my responsibility, and told twenty times a day what my Momma's name was. It's wild!
I'm anxious, too, because I haven't heard back from the publisher. My writing has come to a stand-still. I sat down to the computer last week and it was awful. I didn't know the style of that person's writing at all. I haven't had the urge to try anymore. Even blogging has become stifled and hard.
I just flat out miss my Mom. I called her about everything and now I don't have her. And, to be honest, Daddy being here is a moment-by-moment reminder that she's gone. I would've gone over to talk out my feelings of rejection and discouragement where the book is concerned. She would have talked me through it. Daddy would not have been an issue. In fact, I would have been talking her through some of what she expeerienced with him. Peter. Where is Peter when I need him? I need to fly away to Never Land.
My house is clean though. I'm a terrible housekeeper, but avoiding Daddy has led me to clean. I've been a cleaning engine. It's wild! I got up to go to bed last night and started cleaning my bathroom. My daughter said in astonishment, "What are you doing?" She had never experienced seeing her Mom clean just to clean. No company coming. No reason. Just to clean. Miracles never cease! Wild!
Daddy has started wandering. That is a grave concern to me. What if he goes out into the garage at night and I don't hear him? He would smother. So far, he just wanders into my bedroom about 1:30am looking for Momma. Wild! He asks me to get up and help her because he hears her screaming. Can't explain to him that she's not screaming where she is.
Got a call this morning. My Gramma (102 8/12's) is in the hospital getting potassium and blood transfusions. What are these people thinking? She's tired. She has no idea where she is. She hurts from arthritis. She has to wear a diaper for Pete's sake. Why don't they let her go peacefully? Wild!
I know this book has satan's ire up. My friend, Hope, told me to watch out because he would be angry at the things I'm writing in this book. He is after me with all he's got. No holds barred. Every one of my weaknesses are being attacked. The self-doubt, the fear, the confusion, my marriage--all of it. An attack on every single weakness. I can't think of one that is not under attack.
I will get this book finished. I will get it out there. I will find a publisher. God has sent me on this mission and I will fight for it to the finish! I am in the King's army and I am a soldier of the Cross. He will give me strength. I will endure. I am His and He is mine and together will we scale this mountain--a difficult climb! Wild!
8/04/2007
Christ Is The Matter
Darkness is nothing more than a place where it's hard to find your way. Thankfully, I don't have to. I have The Way and He can see fine. He is The Light. His beam shines bright through the dismal dark of ebony nothingness showing me the path that at times seems so elusive.
I took my eyes off my Dear Savior and looked instead at my surroundings. What I saw, like Peter, gave me cause for panic. And I took the bait from the fisherman of the deep where people drown and for several days he has been dragging me under.
But in His inimitable style, Christ threw out the life raft and said, "I won't make you get in, but here it is. When you're ready, I'll take you, and this vessel, to safety."
I'm in. Tired, with muscles unable to support me because of the fatigue I got from fighting to keep my head above water, but safe. I'm lying here now letting Him tow me to shore. The burden is His. That's where it belongs. He is where I belong.
Despair is no place for a Christian. People see us there and it hurts our testimony. We are Ambassadors for Christ. The Place of Despair is like any other bar or hangout. It's a place to drown ourselves in self-pity, self-loathing, guilt, sorrow, you name it. And that old cunning sea-dog, satan, he will gladly oblige us, holding our head under water until we fill our lungs with life-ending water.
No matter what befalls me, no matter who tries to hurt me or get me down, no matter what, it is exactly that--No matter! Christ is The Matter. Like a shroud covering my face trying to smother breath out of me, despair tried to take my life and spirit, but my Savior came in with His Sword and ripped the shroud into pieces, giving me a place to push my head through so I could take a deep, long breath of Life.
Thank You, Lord, for my siestas who have diligently lifted my name, my hurts, my life up to You. Thank You for answering them in such a timely manner! You are my All in All.
Thank You, girls, for all the hard work. I know sometimes prayer and burdens for others can be taxing, especially when you have great needs of your own. I love you all. Christ is The Matter that holds us together, Amen? Yes, and Amen!
I took my eyes off my Dear Savior and looked instead at my surroundings. What I saw, like Peter, gave me cause for panic. And I took the bait from the fisherman of the deep where people drown and for several days he has been dragging me under.
But in His inimitable style, Christ threw out the life raft and said, "I won't make you get in, but here it is. When you're ready, I'll take you, and this vessel, to safety."
I'm in. Tired, with muscles unable to support me because of the fatigue I got from fighting to keep my head above water, but safe. I'm lying here now letting Him tow me to shore. The burden is His. That's where it belongs. He is where I belong.
Despair is no place for a Christian. People see us there and it hurts our testimony. We are Ambassadors for Christ. The Place of Despair is like any other bar or hangout. It's a place to drown ourselves in self-pity, self-loathing, guilt, sorrow, you name it. And that old cunning sea-dog, satan, he will gladly oblige us, holding our head under water until we fill our lungs with life-ending water.
No matter what befalls me, no matter who tries to hurt me or get me down, no matter what, it is exactly that--No matter! Christ is The Matter. Like a shroud covering my face trying to smother breath out of me, despair tried to take my life and spirit, but my Savior came in with His Sword and ripped the shroud into pieces, giving me a place to push my head through so I could take a deep, long breath of Life.
Thank You, Lord, for my siestas who have diligently lifted my name, my hurts, my life up to You. Thank You for answering them in such a timely manner! You are my All in All.
Thank You, girls, for all the hard work. I know sometimes prayer and burdens for others can be taxing, especially when you have great needs of your own. I love you all. Christ is The Matter that holds us together, Amen? Yes, and Amen!
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