God is good...

For the last 6-8 weeks, I have been suffering from back pain. I wrote it off to catching a draft on my kidney area, or maybe having a kidney stone, or an infection or just being too old and too fat. Two weeks ago, I started preparing for Christmas and moved two rooms of furniture after which I was immobile for two days. That passed and became just a pain again by the next Friday. So... I cleaned my garage. I moved tables, 6 ses of golf clubs, toted a carload to Goodwill, put stuff on the racks over the garage area, some stuff in the basement and living room and just lifted, moved and stored for a few hours. By Saturday, I was on the heating pad, unable to move again, with spasms of pain in my lower back. I couldn't sleep as any movement forced me to wake up and reposition, trying to find a place of comfort. I refused to call a doctor since I was not eager to get treatment or face the reality that I could have been in real trouble. I sufferered through the pain and discomfort and then on Monday night, about 11:30 I rolled wrong and had pain like I had never felt before. I spent the next hour wondering how I could get out of bed to go to the emergency room without waking my family. And then I did something I haven't done in a long long time...I prayed for myself. I prayed for the end of pain, for the comfort of good health, for sleep. I prayed that God send His healing to me and me alone...yes, I acknowledged that there were people who were worse off than I was, but I selfishly prayed for ME! When the alarm went off at four I wondered how I would get out of the bed to turn it off, and I simply rolled over and reached out and ... no pain! I can't explain it. And because I can't explain it, I can say that by remembering where my healing would come from I was able to be healed. Now, I am still a little sore, but on Tuesday I put my socks on without falling over, got dressed without using Duke's "grabber" and was able to sit comfortably all day at work. A doctor might say that the bad roll restored my back to the proper position. A psychologist may say I had just been in the midst of a bout of hypochondria and self-absorbtion that ran its course in my fatigue. An atheist wouldn't say anything because they surely wouldn't have me for a friend after I spent the night in prayer.

But I say...GOD IS GREAT! Don't we know that all we ask for in His name will be given to us? So, till I write again, pray for each other, and please. pray for yourselves. Your needs will be met when your faith is expressed.

Merry Christmas

There! I said it! And guess what? If you answer, and Happy Hanukkah! or Joyous Kwanzaa! I will be respectful of your holiday, too.
Because I know you celebrate Hanukkah, I may wish you a Happy Hanukkah! I will not though automatically become Jewish, nor will I suddenly be an African American by acknowledging your celebration of Kwanzaa.
I just know that each of us celebrates our holidays in different ways and I want to recognize you as a person who respects his or her own beliefs, heritage and existance.
So if I do not say "Happy Holidays" it's because I would not feel right insulting you. Please do not insult me either.

Thanksgiving Prayer

I wish my house had a little more room, and the kitchen a few extra shelves.

But I know there are those who live in gloom, with cardboard to protect themselves…so I’m thankful.

Some days work's unrewarding and co-workers suck, and my salary’s less than I’m worth,

But I know of many, down on their luck, who’d take any job just to get work. …so I’m thankful.

I wish my old car was sporty and cool, leather inside would be nice,

But there are many who walk to work or to school, or bus when the sidewalk’s iced…so I’m thankful.

Last night I didn’t have time to cook so picked up chicken at KFC,

But some can hardly afford to look and end up at the Food Pantry…so I’m thankful.

I know all that I have is more than enough. I have God, church and family and friends.

I know my complaints of the things that are tough, will be meaningless when my life ends. …so I’m thankful.

Every November we gather with cheer, and say thanks for the life we are living.

I need more time than that, maybe all year, to repeat all the blessings I’m given. …so I’m thankful.
 
Happy Thanksgiving my friends. Margaret

Only two prayers?

Someone recently told me that there are only two prayers in the world...HELP ME, HELP ME, HELP ME and THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU.
I was taken aback, since it totally omitted HELP HIM, SAVE HIM, BLESS HIM, HAVE MERCY, and so many others that Christians say. I can't believe that people are so cynical and short sighted that they only see prayer as a means for personal gain or a thank you for what they alone received.
I have been bothered because I didn't speak up...so here is my speak up!
If we consider ourselves Christians and realize that salvation is our gift, we also need to acknowledge God's plan for us. "Help me" alone is not a proper prayer. That suggests that we only have to pray when we are in need. What He gives us without our requesting it is more valuable than any thing we can ask for.  Knowing that God is with us in the times we don't need anything and praying daily just to talk ensures our personal relationship with him. Our requests are not always delivered but  they are always fulfilled. To use "Thank you" as a second prayer suggests that we only have to pray when we receive things. What about those times we do not receive what we want, but instead what we need?
We have to see that our faith is totally outside of the box - we are not a vessel for God to fill with grace and stop up, sealing in His riches. We are a vessel that God fills and leaves open so we can pour out His gifts and blessings on others. Think of your soul like a sieve where the grace of God is poured in and the things you need in HIS PLAN pour out thickly. They are the blessings that stay with you,. The water that seeps through the holes is the blessing you give to those around you in His name.
If there have to be only two prayers, how about GOD, HELP ME DO FOR OTHERS and THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME BE OF SERVICE?
Maybe the person who said HELP ME and THANK YOU just forgot to finish their sentences. I sure hope so.

goals not reached

Here it is, October and I have fallen quite short of my BLOG goal of 1 a week. But, I have done 27 (before this one) and know that there will be more to follow.
I am not quite ready to throw in the towel, but have decided that I set a goal far above what I could accomplish being a newbie and all. Now if I get closer to my goal by the end of the year, I may start my new goal on January 1 instead of doing a full year to February, 2011.
Now I am wondering just who is reading my blogs and who has any opinions on them. I think you need a gmail account to be a member, so I have heard from one person they read them but do not comment. If you have any comments or ideas you want me to receive, but don't want to add them to an open forum, I would love to hear from you.

Email me at ChristChild103@gmail.com

This was just a public service announcement because I needed to get that blog count up!!!

28...WOO WOO!!!!!

Happy what?-day...

On Sunday, 10/3/10 I turned 56 years old. It was a horrible day as I expected the world to stop and greet me - I expected all the times I said "don't worry about it" to be denied and everyone to call and treat me well.
But I had only 2 of my 4 siblings even remember me and with the Packers playing, no real attention from my husband till after the game was over. But this is all because I didn't make my wishes known.
The odd thing is that 3 women from choir called me and sang a lovely harmonized version of "Happy Birthday", I received an e-card from another alto...and by 10:00 Monday morning had received two more messages from choir members - neither from the alto section, telling me they hoped my day had been good.
I got a total of three cards and two gifts at choir on 9/30, another card from my son and daughter (ok - future daughter in law but why act like she isn't part of the family when she is so very important to us all), and my daughter (see above note) knit me three pair of socks...wonderful, colorful and warm socks. My son made sure I had Israel Houghton's new cd...my older sister borrowed my ladder and hugged me and told me I was important and loved. And my Dad called. OK, he couldn't remember why he called, and when he said "I can't remember..." my husband said "to talk to your daughter?" and Daddy remembered.
By noon on the 4th, my other siblings contacted me to tell me that they really were sorry that I had a birthday on such an inconvenient day for them and wished me well regardless. Perhaps their phraseology wasn't quite that way, but once I heard all they had to do, I really did see that my birthday was not exactly that important in the great scheme of things.
Why am I writing this? Because I am so tired of people telling me how nice I am and generous and giving when they should know that I am petty and selfish and demanding, just like everyone else.
And because I added up the great things about my birthday and they far outnumbered the imagined slights and self-proclaimed martyrdom I can feel better about Sunday.
SO MAGGIE!!! Get over it and move on. There will be other birthdays ... and in retrospect, how much better could they be - because other than gifts, cards, and greetings I also got some "smarts".  Happy days to everyone - they are all special.

What do you want on your tombstone?

Old joke...
A group of seniors was asked what they wanted to hear from their friends and family at their funeral...
The first said, "I want to hear 'he was a good man"'
The second took it a step further and said, "It would be nice for them to say 'he was a loving husband and good father'"
The third thought it over and said, "I'd like someone to say 'look! He's breathing!'"

Being a Christian, I wonder if I will be at peace when I die. If I died today, would I hear accolades or would I hear relief? Would my friends even show up or think about it and decide for whatever reason that I would rather have them have a fun evening than go to a depressing wake?
Would they miss me or just find someone else to sit behind my desk at work, fill my seat at choir, and meet for coffee? Will the hole I leave be filled with love or distractions?
I think that with all we face daily, the trials, the temptations, the sadness and the confusion, all we can do is grab tightly to our faith and muddle through.
At my funeral I hope that they say "No matter what, she never lost her faith." The rest will fall in place if I remain faithful to the end.

4 of 4

Elaine - the baby. I know that is not a title a person wants to be saddled with through their whole life, but Elaine was the last of us. She is 12 years younger than me and I doted on her from the beginning. Where MaryBeth had Liz to be a sister to, I had Elaine.When she was young and would wake in the night, she would come to my twin bed and I would scoot over and make room for her. Mom always wanted to know why I didn't take her back to her own bed and, honestly, that meant I would have had to get out of my warm, toasty bed and walk across the hall and it was so much better to just invite her in and snuggle. I loved her for her cuddly nature - her curly blond hair - her lisp caused in part by falling on her upper teeth and damaging them - and her competitive nature. Of those things, the lisp was the only thing she grew out of. Unlike me, she always wanted to be number one. She was (and still is) an accomplished athlete. With my mother's help, she petitioned her grade school to be allowed to play football with the boys at lunch break. In those days, girls played girl games - only boys were allowed to play football. And once she was allowed to, she did play, even though it was not her sport. She set her goals in high school to be one of the better students, one of the first sophomores to get a senior varsity letter in sports, one of the most popular and well loved. She played softball with a group of girls, a few of whom she played with for the next twenty plus years. An excellent soccer player, she now assists her daughters' soccer teams as a team mother, manager and referee. Elaine was a member of the ski patrol, and even tried to teach me how to ski; a valiant effort on her part but I failed miserably.
I worry about Elaine because her nature is so competitive that I fear she will die some day of disappointment. She is so incredibly good at what she does, that if God takes her abilities away, would she be able to function as a normal person? I have the same concern for Clark Kent, David Banner and Diana Trevor. No one should be forced to live in the regular world by hiding their super powers.
When Elaine decided to marry, she picked a man who had the same drive and spirit she did. This is quite a match as each not only wanted to be the best, but to support each other in their achievements. To make things even better, they became the parents of two exceptional girls - Rachael, the eldest, is a first place person - she pushes herself to be number one at school and in sports, mostly soccer and Kayleigh, who is a great athlete, but seems to just want to be good at it all, not having picked a special sport yet. Both girls play basketball, a game their mom never played, and soccer and softball, two sports Elaine loved and excelled at. Elaine first "gold" was in volleyball, but her girls aren't old enough to be part of an accomplished team yet.
Elaine can't be categorized. She has friends to pray with, friends to do sports with, friends to drink with. She is a good Catholic girl who supports her parish by teaching Sunday school and then goes to a Packer party...yes, she is an avid sports fan as well as a player. Elaine is the one most likely to drink the guys under the table and still be able to tell you the game highlights and lowlights. She is a good listener, an incessant talker and an accomplished musician. She hosts parties that no one wants to leave and is a gracious and funny guest at your home.
Elaine is so good at everything that it is hard to not resent her or be jealous - but, as I know from experience, she only puts the pressure to be number one on herself and supports others (me) half-baked efforts.
When we married, my brother and sisters became Dukes special family, but he bonded with Elaine the most. It was a lot to do with her loving nature and the fact that she treated him like a big brother. He was so much older that she just folded into his affection for her and was often more like my daughter than my sister.
Many times she packed up an infant and three year old and drove thirty miles to sit with me when my husband was hospitalized - plus sent over dinners and gave me monetary help to get by till things normalized. None of this was asked for or expected, but I needed the help and she recognized it. For the first time, I was the one who wandered to her bed, woke her up and she scooted over and let me in.

My baby sister - my friend, Elaine.

3 of 4

Kevin - yes, of the five of us, there is a boy. I was overjoyed as I had one older and one younger sister when he was born and really wanted a brother. He was a big baby, something my parents never got over, and they told many stories about it. I am sure that since he works very hard to stay healthy now, he really appreciates hearing Dad tell those old stories about his 10+ pound baby boy.
Kevin was loved, protected and bullied by his 4 sisters. This explains two things - that he moved to Minneapolis years ago and never looked back and that he didn't marry till he was 44 years old. He dated many lovely women, but none really stuck till Lacey. He has always been a good friend for men and women alike, and treats women with respect and admiration. (this directly corrolates to the "bullied" line - you respect women because THEY HIT!)
Kevin has a group of friends that are as welcome in our family as he is in theirs. Being an only son, he created a brotherhood with many of his high school buddies and they remain a tight group today, despite their differences in occupation, education and location.
Kevin is the only performing artist of us. Although we are all quick witted and easily amused, he went to improvisation classes and regularly performs in troupes and plays - has appeared in corporate instructional videos and hosted a local cable show.
Kevin makes it a priority to stay out of the tension and friction that can develop between us sisters, mainly because he loves us all individually. There is no "I like Mary better" or "I love Liz more" because he respects and loves us each for the things we each have to offer. He loves my husband (the feeling is mutual) and they tell stories about things they did together that the rest of us are relieved we did not participate in. Ask him why he doesn't have a Purple Rain cassette.
Kevin has a deep love of his family and this is manifested in his desire to visit with each of us when he comes to Milwaukee. He makes time to see us all individually and makes you believe that he came to town just to see you.
When he and Lacey decided to marry we all wondered why...why did he finally decide to settle with someone and why would a young, exciting woman want to marry him. But when you see them together, the questions cease. They appear to be good friends and genuinely love and enjoy each other. They really have the old PDA thing down as they are always holding hands, touching arms or exchanging looks. And they laugh together...something you need to survive as a couple.
Kevin learned much from his sisters and has taught us things too. He has patience, kindness and love - he has determination, wit and a great sense of humor. He is dependable and responsible. Kevin's independence is that much more liberating for him because he knows where he is, where he is going and where he belongs.
I love my baby brother.

Sleep in peace, my Christian friends...

What do nonbelievers do when they lay down to sleep?


Do they relax with milk or wine or just start counting sheep?

Do they recall the little things that made their day a mess

Or do they wish they could be rich and have to work much less?

I wonder if they know that when you rest at night in love,

Knowing that your life is under guard by those above,

The pain from life is just a load that each of us must bear

But we can turn it over to the Lord’s unending care.

I wonder how they sleep when life could end at any time

And they don’t have a promise of eternity in mind.

I wonder if we told them that the peace we have is real,

Would they allow the Savior in, their wounded souls to heal?

Would they respond that we are nuts and turn their eyes away?

Do they know we won’t let them off? Won’t let them get away?

Will we express our faith and love and tell them of God’s will?

Will we convince them He can help their empty hearts be filled?

Do we show them through our actions; our words and thoughts and deeds

That God above, the Lord of Love, supplies their every need?

Do we show them the love we have as Christians can be shared

To all who throw their selves aside – who step to Christ – who dare?

Did we hold back, or take the reins and charge to fight the fight

That keeps them tossing, turning as they try to rest each night?

If they became believers, their minds could rest in peace

Knowing that through God above, anxiety will cease.

Do we help them see that God alone, in life their souls will keep?

What DO nonbelievers do when they lay down to sleep?

2 of 4

Liz was born 7 1/2 years after me. She was definitely an interesting addition to our family. Mary and I had been so about us for so long that she was like a new doll that we were required to share. We used to tease her about having to trade in a very popular pet monkey (which we never had) to make room for her. She put up with us abusing her toys - specifically a bird that hung briefly from a spring on our bedroom ceiling.  I guess you can only throw so many pillows at a hanging animal before one catches. Boy was she mad at us.
Mary and Liz shared a double bed and that created a bond for them that Liz and I never had. Liz was sort of Mary's baby sister - I got my own later, but that blog is yet to come.
Liz was always the one who depended on her own friends. In truth, she was required to make her own friends since Mary and I were similar ages, and when she started needing friends Elaine was just too young.
When I was in 8th grade, Liz started kindergarten and we would walk to and from school together. It was fun to finally be the big sister.
Mom raised the younger kids much differently from Mary and me. There was a tolerance for fault and lack of rules that allowed Liz to develop her own style at a young age. Mary and I had a  level of discipline never transferred to any of our younger siblings.
Liz paved a rather crazy road wearing risque clothing while hanging with friends who were none too smart, boyfriends who can only be described as missing a chromosome and doing jobs that required minimal commitment. But suddenly she got it - she got it all. She decided that being a waitress was not enough and became a hostess at Red Lobster. Then to a factory job where her ability to adapt made her a valuable (though unappreciated) worker.She decided her choice in men wasn't guaranteeing a future and picked Andrew - a normal guy with drive, ambition and intelligence. She changed her way of acting and settled into a married life with a nice home (actually bought the house she grew up in) a responsible position and a wonderful husband. She recently went to school to graduate as a nail technician. She works full time at a spa, pampering the rich and beautifying the plain. Her incredible work ethic and unique personality make her a natural to work with the public. People depend on her, need her and appreciate her. She shines now that she is in job that requires her artistic skills and rewards her for her work.
Liz is very artistic. She paints, works with yarns and threads, decorates cakes. She is a good housekeeper, not because she is so neat, but because she values her home. Her home is an example of her artistic ability, her spiritual nature and her need to be in control of her life. After years of searching and wondering what she was destined to be, she is finally achieving it.
There is a simplicity about her that may come from satisfaction, or from not really caring, but whatever it is, she has made it work.

Doubts

On July 2nd there was a Gathering at a lovely church in Milwaukee where a group of us got together to praise. There was prayer and song and dance. Our choir participated and we sang and honored the Lord with everyone. It was very moving.
There is a problem though...I am not sure if I belonged there. I am very insecure in my value to my faith. I have long questioned my motives. Am I good to look good to others or to please God?
If I lift a situation in prayer, is it to truly turn it over to God or to find some scapegoat in case things go horribly wrong...or is it that I figure if God helps, the result will be better for ME?
I am filled with doubt and questions about my motives. If you are good because you don't want to be bad, are you bad for not seeing the source of good? If you praise with your heart and soul and then someone commends you for it, are you ok to be thankful and appreciative of the compliment?
What happens when you do a good job and forget to say it was God who helped you through? Does a good deed lose it's meaning when you tell someone you did it? If you help an old lady at the grocery store and brag about it, does the act become almost sinful as a result of the bragging? If you approach a situation as a chance to be good in the eyes of God, does that make it less spontaneous and more self serving? Do I get to heaven because I did things that I knew would please God or did things that truly pleased God?
Am I a good person? I don't know.

1 of 4

How do I start? How do I define the relationship with the one person who is totally different from me but absolutely the same?
Mary and I were born a little over 13 months apart and neither of us can remember life without the other. Granted we each had our own friends and interests, but because of her I never had the heartache of losing a best friend - because she was always there for me and was my best friend.
People thought we were the same, but we were so different. We were light to each other's dark and sun to each other's moon.
Mary has the beauty I will never have. It may be her self-confidence, her drive, her ambition to be the best she can be. Whatever makes her beautiful is past hair and makeup - beyond weight and fancy clothes. It is something that will be there no matter what is seen by the untrained eye.
She fought for everything she has. She turned a desire for a good education into over 25 years in the armed forces as an Army Nurse. She still practices her trade working when she wants at nursing homes and facilities in her area.
She loves her children with her whole heart and, as all mothers know, even when that heart is broken, her bond of love to her kids is not. She is a doting and creative grandmother who is now able to love with no restraint. As my mother told me, grandmothers spoil grandchildren...get used to it. Mary epitomizes that.
Mary is generous and good natured. I love when she walks into a room because her very essense lights it up, and I just sort of bask in that glow. I followed in her shadow for many years, and when I tried to remove myself, I had a sense of loss like none I had ever known. I learned that the shadow was part of me. Being her second made me a stronger first in my own life.
We always joked that when we imagine ourselves rich, famous musicians (neither of us with incredible talent, by the way) she would see herself as the lead singer and I would see myself as back-up. Mary was always my star. Where I am support staff at work, she is administration.
Mary and I were raised to be the best - the brightest - the strongest we could be. We were encouraged to love each other and be different which is why we are so good when together...so connected when apart.
She sometimes wonders why I introduce her as my older sister. It's because I want people to know she is a little older, a little smarter and a little better than me. It isn't years that older defines. I will always look up to her and respect her. People need to know that.
I love her and am proud of her. I am honored to be her sister. Thanks Mom and Dad.

What's next?

 Why do I read things and then my mind goes on and on wondering why it isn't done. For example - I just read a devotional about death where it referred to living a worthwhile life to face God. But I am not concerned about meeting God - I know that my life is still being constructed and when I meet God we will have an honest conversation.
What I worry about is what happens to my spot here on earth. I want to leave a void in the lives of my friends that only Jesus can fill. Especially for my nonbelieving friends. I want the conversations about me to be how I made wonderful things happen by my faith and dedication to Jesus.
I dream that my death will be uneventful. I think that the more people love you, the easier to let you go if they see your confidence that death is not the end.
I don't know why death is on my mind. I just know that "life" is in my heart and isn't that the point?

the funeral

Saturday I drove to Ripon for a funeral. That in itself means nothing. Many people travel further than that to honor a grieving family. What made it unique is that it was the first Catholic funeral I have been to in a long, long time.
I know many will say that Catholics are all about the ceremony - the processions and candles - the vestments and symbols. But, this was a beautiful experience. Maybe it was what many would call "over the top."
I prefer to think that the grief stricken family was reassured at the familiarity of the prayers and songs. I was moved by the words the priest said. I was inspired by the sermon. The priest had reviewed the private notes of the eternal guest and commented on her life of pain and suffering and her courageous choice to give her future to God.
There was a beauty and gentleness, even while we all cried. I didn't know Nicole, but I knew her sister. I knew that to the end, Nicole was loved and the whole service was a reminder to us all that there is no end if we truly believe.
What will happen to all those people is not sure - what happened on a sunny Saturday, is sure. That a select group who came to mourn was renewed and released back to the real world totally in God's presence is what matters.
I hope I can live my life in enough faith to leave this kind of aura over my friends and family. I hope I can love my sisters and brother enough to make sure that when they die, everyone knows more about when they lived.
My new goal is to do 4 more blogs - one each for my siblings so they know from now to the end how much they are loved by me.

Why superheroes hide their powers from their friends.

I have a secret power. Not faster than a speeding bullet or more powerful than a locomotive...can hardly leap a sleeping dog in a single bound, but I discovered an ability more powerful than any of those.
Let me clarify. Yesterday after an incredibly long day, I had a relaxing pedicure and then stopped at the grocery store on the way home to get potato chips and milk. Hamburgers were planned for dinner and I was elected to swing into Pick N Save for the chips. Milk was an added request that I received via text on my way out of the salon. I was not enthused because it was raining and chilly and I had to leave the car to run to the store and then out again and when I got home no one had so much as opened the burger buns. So guess who had to pull the burgers out, season them, toast the buns as they were not completely defrosted...put out the condiments, set the table...you got it! Me! And I had been at work by six that morning and it was already 7pm...boy was I pissed!!!
So I didn't talk to anyone and just threw things around the kitchen and got it all done and when I had to say grace at dinner, it was short and not very sweet. Bless this food - amen...because bless this family and friends and dinner was too much for me to ask cuz I was MAD!!
Then I heard my son snap at his girlfriend and she snapped right back - and my husband whined at my son who retorted rudely and then we had the quietest dinner because no one was talking to anyone. And I realized that by walking into this quiet group and going on the attack immediately, I had discovered a super power. My power deflated all good will, discouraged all pleasantries and destroyed the evening for everyone. What had I done?
What if I had approached my family with warmth instead of anger? We'll never know what it would have done to yesterday...I can't change that. But by hiding my power I can change today. And tomorrow will be better.

Jigsaw

 I like to go to MSN games and do the three daily jigsaw puzzles - the pictures are pretty and I keep the difficulty at normal as I do not flatter myself to think I am ready to handle difficult...and today I did my third puzzle and I lost a piece. I know that is impossible, but I had used all the pieces I could see and there was a hole in the center of the puzzle. But by adjusting the screen side to side and up and down I found a piece, sitting beneath the bottom of my screen. And there it was - a complete jigsaw puzzle. Some days are like that. I get up and get dressed. Everything is assembled and packed up and I go to work. It's like any other day but in the midst of the routine, something is wrong. It's like the puzzle. I think I have all the pieces - that being able to function and complete the mundane tasks of the day is a sign that things are complete, but there is something missing.
Now I don't claim to have the answers, but I do know that the days I add the Word of God to my day - the days I take the few extra minutes to open the Bible, read a chapter, a verse, a passage...those are the days I have all the pieces.
When all the pieces are assembled, if there is a hole, I know that I am missing something. I see that the most important piece is the one that completes me - my faith.

introducing...Olivia Grace

Although due to arrive on May 27th, Olivia decided that May 12 was more to her liking and that was that. Anyone who has ever had a baby or known someone who was expecting knows that all the planning in the world, arranging, appointments to induce labor and scheduled cesearean births doesn't mean the baby will arrive as scheduled.
Olivia Grace is seen in the loving arms of her 1 year old sister Aubrey Elizabeth. Right now it appears to be more curiosity than love, but let it be known, and I can say this firsthand, that the closeness in age will cause a bond to develop that no argument, other relationships, distance or silence will ever destroy.
Congratulations to the loving parents, Emily and Shane, the unselfish grandmother MaryBeth and the supporting family that will spend the rest of their lives loving and praying for these little girls.

Happy Birthday, Aubrey

Today my great-niece Aubrey is one year old. From a Christian standpoint, that is singularly one of the strongest statements of faith I have ever written.
God has allowed us to unite one of a millon cells of a man with a tiny part of a woman, and participate in the creation of another human person.
I know that God is the true creator, but this is His letting us in on the joy He felt as He created the world all those years ago. Imagine what a couple feels knowing that they are encouraging growth and life. Or any of us who cannot conceive a child and are witnesses to this incredible growth. Now multiply that by millions and billions. This is what God has experienced and then blessed us with.
When I hear someone say that there is no God, that creation is just a coincidental result of a chain of events (of course these same people can't cite a source of that chain) or that we are foolish and naive to believe that there is anything greater than us...I think they should look at a baby. Watch a child - watch the growth, the learning, the discovery. You can explain the physical process to say how, but what about the why? What about looking past the medical and into the spiritual? What makes my child different from all the others? Why are there children who don't grow the same way as others? And why they are still loved? Watch and see the time that a parent is truly depended on and the time they are forced to let go. Watch how the parents become observers in their own child's life.
There is more than science and medicine to define a child's presence in our world. There is faith because we know that all the unanswered questions are because God has deigned it that way.
Today Aubrey is one year old. Happy birthday precious child of God.

Old People Rock!

On Sunday the choir sang the worship service at Luther Manor.
They have a beautiful chapel and it filled with old people who walked in on their own; people with walkers; people in wheelchairs. We saw people get guided in because they wanted to worship and didn't want to be confined to their roomsfor worship on a rainy Sunday morning.
Whatever their health, these people got up, got dressed and came to church. How many healthy people stayed in bed yesterday and skipped worship? How many self-titled Christians didn't even remember to pray yesterday morning? How often has that been me?
Sometimes in retrospect we find faults with something that we enjoyed in the moment. This experience had no fault.
Yesterday I went to a worship and could feel the faith, see the people praying, hear the Lord's Prayer said in strong voices, weak voices, voices that didn't sound at all but eyes that shone while they heard the words Christ gave us to pray...this is why we were there.
Our faith wavers and our vision gets blurred, but every now and then we see our commitment in action. We faced more years of faith than we could possible imagine and felt the joy of the worship. We saw eyes that couldn't read or see clearly, yet could see God in their own lives every day. We were thanked by men and women - the older and very old - by nodding heads and held hands. We saw smiles and received hugs.
We made a difference because God led us to Luther Manor and helped us serve Him.
THANK YOU, LUTHER MANOR!

where have I been?

Someone, at my request, has read my blogs and commented on the length of them. Immediately, and because it was someone I respected, I started to second guess my ramblings. I was sure that if anyone else would read them, they would think me nauseous and boring...but then I remembered that I am not blogging to be a world famous blogger. I am blogging because I have a zillion thoughts that I can put into words and that I may need to look back on them some day.
Funny how the moment I hear a comment from someone I start rethinking my words and forgetting my motives.
I am using a blog format because there are people out there who know me and have asked me to put my prose and poetry down on paper. Although BLOG is a cute short word, my devotions are usually 4-5 minutes and my poetry goes till I run out of rhymes. Yes, I am an iambic pentameter person - or at least I have a rhythm and cadance that is balanced throughout.
So while I am trying to write to please any reader, I am not producing a product. My friends and family know that I do not use one word when I can use a number of them, and I never use a sentence when a paragraph will do.
Bear with me, everyone. I warn you now that if I mention a devotion, it is going to read aloud at 4-5 minutes. If it starts as a poem, it will run a full page. If I just recount my day, it'll be a rambling of events that really mean a lot to me...
I am glad there are bloggers who have turned it into an art form - people who have mastered their words and inspired and reassured others. I have a goal and I will read their works and learn and someday I will produce a blog that is concise, interesting and easy to digest. But not today.

Time flies.

Says who?
Birds fly, creating invisible streams in the sky, gently floating over our world and landing silently.
Bees fly, from flower to flower, doing a job gracefully and with a determination you can only aspire to.
Airplanes fly, filled with people who are going to better places for fun, or home for reunions,or to exciting cities for business.
Time is a bird or bee or plane?
NO! Time is a carpenter and one of little skill.
Time has a chisel for my face, leaving behind furrows in my brow and creases around my eyes and mouth. Time has a tiny hammer that pounds on my joints and bones leaving soreness and pain. Time has wood putty which it uses to generously pad my midsection.
Yet when you think of it, carpenters take wood and create intricate tables...time takes little babies and creates adult people.
For all my complaints and whining, I think that I will think of myself as not an aging woman, but as a weathered, antique table, more valuable for it's longevity and preservation.

I'd go on, but look at the time...time flies, you know.

The silent ending

My father's wife of 23 years died last Thursday of a massive stroke, She was actually out with her girlfriends for lunch and cards and collapsed in the restaurant. She was taken to the hospital and attached to a respirator to give the illusion of life until the family would have a chance to say goodbye. All that could came to St. Lukes and stood around - totally useless to Eleanor but totally supportive of each other.
I felt no sadness for Eleanor. She was leaving the world in the company of people she loved, from an activity she enjoyed.
I'm sad for my Dad. I am sad for Eleanor's daughters, relatives and friends. I fear for some of their spirits and faith life.
A priest came in to bless her. The respirator was disconnected. I sat and watched as the monitors showed her heart gradually slow down - 85...75...65...and to nothing. It was quiet.There was no annoying alarm - no rush of nurses to the room.  Her heart just slowly and silently stopped. I know that Eleanor was called by God to a better place. I know she was on His good side and that she would now live forever in His care. I want to shout "She's OK now!" and I want to call to everyone to repent and prepare to face their Creator.
But that would break the silence.
So I whisper...are you ready?

IT'S COMING..........................

The tension is building. Everyone is on the edge of their seats. It's one of those moments between anticipating what is going to happen and the shock when it does.

No, this is not how I feel when I see a scary movie. This is what every real woman feels when she enters the department store to see rows and rows of tiny pieces of fabric on hangers...swimsuit season!

Yes, once that darned groundhog declares that spring will follow winter, women all over the world are facing the 3W's. (winter weight woes). Sometimes the 3W's aren't measured in pounds, but in that feeling that you haven't moved much for 4 months so can't possibly look good. Some are fortunate enough to go to a gym, trainer or have a machine that they see more than their families, but winter still creeps in and if it can't slip in some cellulite, it'll add a wrinkle, dry out your hair or fade normally tanned skin. Winter is a reality check for everyone who thinks they are healthy and wealthy enough to escape aging.

Once the swimsuits hit the racks, it becomes obvious that we didn't escape. To make it worse, there are people out there telling us that anyone can look good in the right swimsuit. I wish I had a nickle for each article I read that advises how to elongate your leg line, flatten your tummy or accentuate your bust. I wish I had a penny from each woman who believes it - and one of those pennies would be mine.

(parental warning: some of the following examples contain graphic images that young women should not be exposed to. Let them learn the hard way, like we did!)

I have tried on high cut suits to make my legs look longer and healthier but the cellulite makes it look more like a rocky mountain than a softly sloping hill. My "stems" have assumed some varicose veins and, I have to admit, do look like strong, trees...after a major fire and all that is left is the thick trunks and darkened branches.

What about the empire waist? Flowing gently away from the body, covering fat tummy and big butt. Of course, that was a treat! There is not a skirt long enough to do this without billowing out over my rear bumpers making it obvious that there is junk in this trunk.

How about a top that gently blouses over a longer short? Wonderful! Now all I need to know is how to keep the longer short from creeping uncomfortably up into my crotch and crack.

And let's diminish or accentuate the bust. Why do the girls with a lot want to hide it and those without want to show it? Guess what people? Biggies with binding burst out...pimples with push ups plop. You can create an image, but sooner or later something happens to reveal what you truly have or don't have.

Oh, the horror! I have resigned myself to the fact that only tons of exercise, sensible dieting and thousands of dollars in plastic surgery would make me into the person that graces the covers of magazines and catalog swimwear and lingerie pages. At my age, what good will it do me? I will never be asked to be a model of anything, not even muumuus. It's hard to imagine a 55 1/2 year old staring out of a magazine in nothing but minimal coverage. Even tanned, thin and taut, I am still 55 1/2 years old.

Plus, has anyone priced a good swimming suit lately? To spend all that money on something you will wear once or twice is a total waste. But the spending doesn't end there. Many buy cute little robes to cover up the suits when they are out. (Then why wear a suit?) Think of it...swimsuit, cover-up, matching sandals, manicure and pedicure and maybe electrolysis, special conditioners to keep your hair from drying out, sunscreen, large towel. The list goes on and on. Your swimming experience may cost hundreds of dollars by the time you are done. And we haven't even thought of where you are swimming? Spa membership? Public pool? Backyard pool above or below ground? More money.

The best bet? Got a friend with a pool? Go there for a picnic - wear a pair of conservative shorts and a non-white t-shirt. You hope someone throws you into water so you can be excused from putting on a suit. Dry off in the warm sun and enjoy your day. Who is going to say anything? it wasn't your fault.
What did that cost you? Time and a dish to pass.

So when you see what appears to be remnants of fabric hanging in a shop, it only takes a frugal attitude, common sense or a mirror to keep you from succumbing to their evil influence. Be brave - be strong - and above all...get your air conditioning looked at so you can stay indoors and not worry about different ways to stay comfortable in the summer heat.

And remember... autumn and winter are just around the corner.

Evil possible...proceed with God

Here is my second devotion that I wrote and chose to not read at choir. I hope you like it, too.


EVIL POSSIBLE
I love my new car – really. It is big and comfortable, drives well in snow and rain, and warns me about things like when to change my oil, if I have an overcharged battery, or low windshield washer fluid or open doors. But my personal favorite is “ice possible – drive with care”.
I really laugh at the “ice possible - drive with care” notice because if it is 3 degrees with a wind chill in the negative teens, I think it should say something more decisive. How about, “if there isn’t ice, you aren’t outside” Or just “its cold – there’s ICE. Deal with it.”
However, when it is one of those warm mornings, high 20’s and low 30’s, I tend to forget that there may be ice waiting for me out there. I kind of get lulled because I’m not wearing my warm hat and scarf and I forget the “black ice” on the roads and that the wet sidewalk may be really slick. Those days, the ice possible warning is an eye opener and reminds me that things may not be as safe as they appear.
I think sometimes it is the same in our lives. On Sunday we sit in church and we are surrounded by other Christians and the pastor is telling us of the evil that is out there. He tells us of the mercy of God and the sacrifice of Jesus. He tells us all these things while we sit in the warmth of the church and we feel all touchy feely about God and faith and we can defeat any enemy because we are filled with spirit. EVIL POSSIBLE – DRIVE WITH GOD. It’s a 3 degree message. We came to church knowing that evil was possible. We are getting the message that we are prepared for.
Then Monday arrives. We get out of bed and start our day. We thank God for another day. Maybe we take quiet time in a soft chair or private spot and pray or do devotions. And we see the message – EVIL POSSIBLE – DRIVE WITH GOD. It’s still 3 degrees out. We are getting a message that we are already prepared for. We are receiving the warning for something we know about and are expecting.
So the day starts and the kids are just not cooperating and may miss their ride to school…the traffic is brutal on the way to work…the boss is so upset and who else can he yell at?...spilled coffee on the report that was just printed and now it has to be printed again but that crazy at the next desk is printing a novel about caring for her cat and the printer delay is going to be HOW LONG? There is a skipped lunch and now it’s time to go and what’s really been accomplished today? At home, the kids have projects that are due tomorrow (let’s make a working volcano before bedtime) and there is nothing defrosted for dinner so it’s cereal and mac ‘n cheese, and WHOA!!!
These are the 32 degree moments. This is when the chance to forget the message you know so well is most possible. This is when you need to see EVIL POSSIBLE – DRIVE WITH GOD. This is when you are making choices to see if you have the strength to be patient and tolerant or to be resentful and vindictive. Do you yell at the kids and bully them or start organizing things to smooth out their morning? Do you whine about the other drivers and their habits or listen to soft music or scripture, knowing that you allow plenty of time to get to work so you may as well enjoy it? Do you pass the buck in defense of yourself so the boss backs off or remember that the real guilty person is having a bad time at home and you can talk to them rationally later? Do you feel discouraged when you see your coffee soaked report or laugh because you have a top for your coffee cup that you never use and you knew that one day this would happen. Do you yell at the cat lady or remember she lives alone except for her cat and he is more than just a pet to her? Do you complain about hunger or grab a snack and remember those who are staving? Do you stress over having no time with the kids because you have so much to do, or get everyone making peanut butter sandwiches while you all work on the volcano? And do you start laughing because it can only get better … because you saw the warning sign: EVIL POSSIBLE – DRIVE WITH GOD.
I hear so many people who say that wearing or displaying a cross, having a Bible in sight, listening to Christian music is just a show. But I have a Bible on my desk and at home. I play Christian music when possible. I have devotionals at my favorite chair and I have a cross with a dove round my neck.
I don’t think that I am showing off my faith or putting on a show. I am preparing for the 32 degree moments. I am reminding myself every day: EVIL POSSIBLE – DRIVE WITH GOD.
In the car, at my desk, in my house, I need a reminder that when things are good and safe and I am distracted by life, a touch to my neck, a desire to read while relaxing, looking for a reference folder at work…I see that I have God with me. I am reminded that I am always in the sanctuary ready to hear the word.
I know that MY God is the God who created everything I see, provided everything I have and is the reason for everything I am.
Most important - I am part of a group that remembers: EVIL POSSIBLE – DRIVE WITH GOD.

An Angel's View

An Angel’s View…
by Margaret Duchrow, Feb, 2010

Oddly, God had left his throne and walked to the edge of heaven. The one and only Lord of all creation was looking down on earth just like the angels tend to do. Angels are always curious about the antics and activities of man, but God always seemed to know what was going on and our excited comments amused but did not surprise Him in the slightest.

This was different. All these days He was watching a boy – a normal human boy, playing and growing. This boy was special. He walked to the temple and spoke with the Rabbis and officials like an equal. Every earthly day the boy grew until one day we looked from the heavenly visage to the earthly face and saw that the boy was so much like God, you would have thought them the same being. This boy was obviously not of man – but absolutely of God. Soon we watched a young man, then a mature man, inspiring and enriching the lives of those around Him.

How joyous the heavens as one by one, and then ten by ten, men turned to God through His only son - the man they knew as Jesus.

But last week, things changed. A dark cloud seemed to develop and hang between heaven and earth. There was joy and cheering as Jesus entered town, but soon it was clear that something had gone terribly wrong. The good feeling and joy had been replaced by anger and bitterness. Jealousy had seized the leaders and fallen angels were dancing in the street.

God watched, not angry or confused. He appeared resigned – nearly emotionless as the scene played itself out…so far below, but it felt so near. We watched and listened. Jesus was in a garden, talking and praying and God softly exhaled and we heard a whisper…it begins.
The sounds of a mob became louder and louder. I saw a kiss…but the sound that echoed through the heavens was a slap. God drew back as if he himself had been struck. He watched the man, his only son, get dragged away and beaten and abused. Those same people who joked and laughed and listened to him a week ago now jeered and shouted in anger – and the words that had united and excited them now infuriated them. Was it the calmness of the man or the truth of his words that they hated?

The earthly shell of Jesus was torn and broken – the human blood of his body running in the streets. Jesus fought the path up to the hill, carrying a cross. God reached down as if wanting to help him carry it, but drew back his hand. God’s face reflected pain yet he did not turn away from Jesus…or ask the angels for help. And we would have helped.
Jesus was nailed to the cross, put on display and left to die a horrible, human death.
He cried out to God, not to condemn the evil that happened – not to save himself from the humiliation and pain…but to forgive those who did not realize what they were doing.

And then, Jesus, with no malice for those around him and recognizing that his time on earth was done, declared…it is finished.
His head bowed and there was no sign of life – no sound – nothing.

God dropped his head and when he raised it again a sound came out. Not a word, but more a roar that was so loud and filled with pain that all in heaven covered their ears…and the reverberation was so great it descended to earth and shook it with unrelenting fury. The heavens closed; blotting out the sun, moon and stars. And God reached out his hand – and with the nail of one finger, slit the curtain of the temple…

We gasped and seeing our surprise, God declared: The barriers have been destroyed forever. The last sign of the separation of God and man is no more. In three days, all doubt will be banished. Those who believe in me, will see that my son is of me and they will know that he is God.
They will take the word to those who didn’t witness what happened here and they will tell them. I will give to all my children what I promised through the prophets and Jesus.
Once again to know…they are my people and I am their God.

And the angels knew that it was over…and just beginning.

another Wednesday and I am inspired

I can't believe it's Idol Wednesday already. I have Buffalo Chicken Chili in the slow cooker, a plan to make Texas toast and rice to accompany it and some weight watchers bars in the freezer for dessert. Everything is coordinated to be done by 6:00pm. Guests arrive by 5:30, food is served, tv is ready to go.
Wouldn't my life be better if I had it all organized that well? I mean, my life was totally organized before it happened. College, work, travel - married in late 20's - 2 kids - financially secure by 50.
That was replaced by a few night courses, work (at least something was on plan), married at 19 - 1 child - who can be financially secure anymore?
But I am not complaining. I think I look back on my life and see that it was educational, exciting and challenging.
But I was Pinocchio, thinking that the blue fairy would arrive and turn me into a real person. My problem was that it was an imaginary person that I planned on being. I thought freedom of choice meant that I was going to make myself. How arrogant I was! Once I started to experience things and make choices, those choices totally changed everything.
God created me with a purpose, knowing full well where I was going to succeed and where I was going to fail. He made sure that I had all the tools to be the person HE intended. But I had to learn to use the tools. And, I'm not very good with tools.
Anyway, (I'd make a long story short but it's way too late for that) I did everything I wanted and yet was not anyone I wanted to be. One day, though, I had enough and decided to reinvent myself, but this time I started using the tools. It was hard at first. You know, I had a Bible and used it for crossword puzzle clues and references for Jeopardy answers. Then to have someone say, did you ever read the book of John?, I was challenged...then curious...then obsessed...and finally disgusted with myself for not doing this years ago. I still didn't know how to use it, but at least it wasn't a dusty tool anymore.
So God guided me to a church where there were people to show me how to use my tools. Like "Baby's First Hammer" I used them clumsily. Little by little though, I got better and I moved on to learn to use other tools: different Bible interpretations, resources, devotionals and references.
I started to notice that the drinking, smoking, vulgar people in my life were being replaced by God loving, generous, sober people who were willing to accept who I was at that moment without condemning who I was in times past.
My writing became laced with thoughts of goodness, kindness and blessings. I found myself humming Christian music and hymns; praying in public before meals; thanking God for everything I had and accomplished; giving glory where glory was due.
No more Pinocchio, no more waiting for the blue fairy, no more thinking it was because of me that I was who I was. Finally, I am starting to figure it out. I give it to God and He sorts it, organizes it and gives me back what I need.
My life is in good hands!

Sunday is almost gone...

...and I am wondering where the weekend went.
I actually had a good weekend, doing dinner and birthday shopping with Chris on Friday, and on Saturday there was a block watch meeting, dinner with Chris and Sam and then, best of all, CHOIR WEEKEND.
Our anthem was "To Dwell In the House" and it was inspiring. I did have a sad experience on Saturday after the service. Duke and I are the Saturday evening prayer ministers. This isn't for any other reason than that we joined the prayer ministry and no one else wanted to pray on Saturday evenings. We have some people we pray with regularly; Mary Jane, an older lady who needs regular prayer to maintain her confidence and faith. She is tormented thinking she is a burden on her children and feels useless. She is a diamond of a person and just doesn't see it. Her sons, Mike and Dave, are wonderful and bring her to service. One of the reasons is to pray with us. Then there is Trent who we pray with before he goes to the rescue mission to lead Saturday service. We get an occasional person who is looking for a quick prayer for a family member, travel or job search, and sometimes someone who just wants to pray.
Last night was different. A woman, Terri, came up and instead of standing with us walked past and sat behind where we were standing. I asked, did you want to pray, and she reached in her purse and pulled out her cell phone. She showed me a picture of her 15 year old son, obviously a special needs child, and started crying. You see, he had died on Friday and her heart was broken. She spoke of how at birth he was expected to live 6 months - how they named him David Daniel after two of the strongest forces in the Bible - of how he inspired everyone with his smile and good nature - how his younger siblings loved him - how his nurses fought to get him the best time and equipment because he was not just a dying child to them. She explained how her husband did total care during the day while she worked, and how while she drove home on Friday, David had stopped breathing and gone to God.
Like any Christian who mourns, she acknowledged that he was in a better place and she knew that now he could do all the things that he couldn't do while alive. She also knew that this changed everything. She had focused on him for almost 16 years - where they went depended on how he would fit in - what they did depended on how he was feeling. Now they finally had a sort of freedom that they never had before, and she was almost fearful of it. To make it worse, she hadn't contacted the church yet, and she didn't know who to turn to. I took her phone number and when I got home, I contacted Nancy Erickson, the pastor's wife, on her behalf.
The point? (remember, my first blog said that maybe I would just ramble on...)
I was really out of my league with helping this woman. I can sympathize with her and pray for her, but can I truly help her? I know that prayer is one of the strongest tools we have for healing. I know that sometimes, especially when the world is spinning out of control, all we need is someone to listen to us and hug us.
In the end, when time comes to face death and the ones I love leave me, how will I handle it? Will I go to church to pray? Will I move forward in confidence or fear? Will I see the light that is in the tunnel, not just at the end? I'll let you know when it happens. Today, I just cheer for the world I have, the family I love and the God who will never leave me.

I'm scared...

I guess it was just a matter of time before I lost my secure facade and became just another scared person in a threatening world. I woke up this morning with that feeling that it was all going to come tumbling down. I am so small in this world.
Yesterday I really didn't behave very well. I was angry at times and I was insecure. I was trying to move on with my own work, but at work, my coworkers kept telling me stories...most of which bored me to death. That is always a sign that I am a little off because usually I find the stories the guys tell me to be funny or interesting, even if I don't have any idea what they are saying.
But it was different yesterday. I didn't want to hear the stories that would only add confusion to my already confused day.
Why can't I just move on and ignore what is happening around me? Why are there days when I smile and nod and days when I strike out and put down. At least I was able to be professional enough to not yell at anyone. If only I could keep them from "getting to" me.
Today I need to pray - all day. I need to put my emotions, fears, and anger into a prayer box and turn it over to God. I need to let Him be the one to deal with negative emotions and help me throw them from my being. I need to be the person God intended me to be. Is it true that the more we try to move towards God, the closer the evil elements move to us to prevent this trip? I think my fear and trepidation is being fueled by my desire to be complete in God's plan. I think that the closer I get to God, the better my day will be.
EVIL! BE GONE! There is no room for you in my life. God is my focus and you have no place here. Go play somewhere else.

CHRISTOPHER'S BIRTHDAY

Today is my son's 32nd birthday - do you know how old that makes me? Yes, you are correct...whatever number you gave.
I am sitting around watching the replay of the Winter Olympic opening ceremony as I fell asleep during it and I think Duke was asleep before the beginning. It is an inspiring thing, these Olympics. I mean, you look at all the frustration and anger in the world - then you see the war, the destruction, the heartache...you witness the torture and torment of countries, the violence and destruction and the persecution of the peoples...you see the missionaries all over, even today, being beaten and driven out, or even killed, because they bring peace and a message of equality and redemption...and you must be wondering how all these countries can put aside their differences and compete with rules and respect. I wonder how the athletes and true competitors of the world can represent their countries in the peaceful fight of the Olympics and know that once home they will once again witness the anger and politics that keep them from true peace.
I pray every day for my family and friends to have peace, success and to keep their faith. I am just one single person. Maybe the thousands upon thousands who watch the Olympics in peace could say the same prayer and maybe, just maybe, the result will be peace in our lifetimes.
SIGH! maybe...................

the Bad Day

OK, yesterday was choir but I had an upset stomach all day and then was slightly feverish once I got home. If I am getting a virus I decided to stay home and not spread it. But I digress as my horrible, crappy day started first thing and then moved down to feeling sick and ...
I pass a lady almost every day on Florist avenue. She is walking and I don't know where she goes, but she is ready to work with a lunch bag and purse. So yesterday I stopped and asked her where she was going...she said "Goodwill" and I said, oh, if you had been going my way I would have offered you a ride. Can you believe that?! Goodwill involves my turning right instead of left on 91st street and going up around one block. But I thought it was not on my way. So after I left her walking in the snowy street, I started thinking that being a Christian was not helping people who were going my way but going out of my way for people. I got to work but there was a problem with a Bridgestone price from Mark B and he seemed to think that I could solve it and when I told him I couldn't he was really snippy about he guesses he has to handle it...then Tom H questioned something I have been doing for a while and seemed to think that because WM changed the criteria yesterday I was responsible for it not being done their way in the past... I had words with Christopher because by this time I was tired of being the one who everyone depended on to magically solve all the problems. And the copier ran out of toner with no notice and that meant I didn't have time to order a new toner so the copier and fax are shut down till more arrives...that one was my fault for trusting electronics instead of intuition. Final tally...bad, bad, day.
Today, it's 16 degrees out. I stopped to pick up the lady on Florist. Her name is Rosalind and she is going to be picked up every time I see her from now on. Especially since winter is not over and she may appreciate a ride even if it is only a few blocks. I am starting my day in the grace of my creator and not in the selfishness of Margaret.

It's going to be a very good day!

Can I Blog? We'll see.........................

I journal every day at home (ok, almost every day) but it is my personal notes and prayers for the day. I have decided to make my journal a prayer journal and share my thoughts via blog. Of course, this means I have to be nice to everyone just in case anyone looks in to see what I am writing about. So I will test this out and see.
I don't know how to text so everything will be spelled out and punctuated according to the rules I was forced to learn and abide by as a child. OH - and NO PROFANITY. I don't aim to shock, just to write. You may find my most recent poetry and maybe some prose. Maybe you'll find recipes that turned out very well, or just rambling, like this. But, I will try to keep up with it weekly. That is my goal. So by this date next year, you should have at least 52 entries to read and hopefully enjoy. Happy Thursday everyone!